#GRACE THE ACE IN SPACE

[insanityisdivine]

Cinderella lost his boot!

[ephemii]

˙⋆✮Grace Alexander, INTRO✮⋆˙

(finally lol)

. INFORMATION; .

.°⭑ ͙͘͡★ ⭑°.

✶ class: 1A

✶ birthday: January 18 (capricorn)

✶ age: 17

✶ height: 163 cm

✶ dominant hand: right

✶ from: ???

✶ club: gargoyle studies club

✶ favorite subject: history of magic

✶ hobbies: painting, reading

✶ pet peeve: gossipers

✶ favorite food: shrimp soup

✶ least favorite food: yogurt

. TIDBITS; .

.°⭑ ͙͘͡★ ⭑°.

✶ by the time she was told that NRC was an all boys school, she had already been found out by Ace and Deuce. The very next day, she gave herself a haircut, procured a makeshift binder out of old scraps she found in Ramshackle, and the few friends she made adamantly referred to her as a guy. It was almost as if everyone else had imagined her feminine origins.

✶ that being said, it didn't take long for the staff to find out. Crewel tailored a proper binder for her, and even went as far as brewing her a special potion as an extra precaution. She was told to "never get used to this type of hospitality", yet by the end of every month, a prim little box tied with a sleek black ribbon would always be sitting at her front door.

✶ she keeps to herself, and is seldom known to get into trouble. That being said, when being around Ace and Deuce, it's always hard not to get into all sorts of trouble despite her best efforts. Despite the image she projects, she can be quite the brute— sheer force of will is both a terrifying strength and an awful weakness of hers.

✶ fiercely loyal as a friend, and isn't afraid to show her appreciation for others. Her first year friends find it off-putting sometimes, but it does strengthen their bond, if even by a smidgen. Grace once told Deuce how thankful she was to have him as a friend and that he was one of the first to shed some light on her grim situation, and he had to turn away to hide his misty eyes.

✶ huge, and I mean massive crush on Malleus. It took her friends a long while to connect the dots, but their reaction to the newly acquired information was nothing short of hilarious and maybe slightly offensive. The nocturnal fae is none the wiser to their unfaltering stares as he passes by their group during lunch.

✶ has a bit of a lack of personal space. More often described as a curious cat, she likes to peep and slot herself once something or someone catches her attention. It becomes a quickly known fact that she has no qualms over sharing, even if others do. One time, Leona stayed awake for an entire lecture for the first time since his freshman years— not to listen, but to stare vehemently at his golden rings wrapped around Grace's fingers during an elective class. She merely grinned mischievously once she caught his eye.

There's a lot more I could add, but maybe I'll leave those for fics and drabbles lol (which I also need to start working on.. I have like 10 drafts already 😵‍💫) but if you've read this far, thank you! 🩷🩷🩷

[hopeastrz]

LIBRA THROUGH THE HOUSES: where you adorn the world with a touch of grace♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.

TIP: could also apply to your venus placement!, also graceful as in where or how you’re known to be the most beautiful!

NOTE thank you so much for your support, you can check my master-list here, lots of love xoxo!!♡˚₊‧⁺˖

LIBRA IN THE 1ST HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE AC:

Starting off strong with the divas, the queens and models, the placement of the best looking women i’ve ever encountered, you’re so graceful in the way you handle yourself, the way you walk and present yourself. You may have a very beautiful waist, jaws and butt, sorry to be so upfront but good googly moogly that thang is juicy af, ehem.. your presence is just so adorable and attractive, your outward behavior is always graceful and your physical appearance is on point!, i really love the way you guys dress!, you’re known to have a beautiful face and looks!.

LIBRA IN THE 2ND HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 2ND HOUSE:

The food you cook can never be missed, i just love how you decorate your food and always make sure it looks beautiful, like using pretty plates and utensils with pastel colors, but umm.. please make sure your food tastes as good as it looks, (please don’t come for me) you guys tend to also prefer eating in aesthetically pleasing restaurants and cafés, you might prefer perfumes with vanilla scents (since vanilla is ruled by venus) and somehow you’re make up is always so flawless (tell me why??? What’s your secret!?? Sold your soul to the devil????) you my also have pretty wallets, oh and very beautiful material possessions, like paintings, antiques, and also your music taste is one of the best things about you, lastly your voice is quite charming and graceful, it may be kinda low or soft on the ears.

LIBRA IN THE 3RD HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 3RD HOUSE:

The type of people to drive oh so gracefully, always making sure to follow the rules and have their passengers feel oh so welcomed and comfortable throughout the ride, you may keep snacks in your car, always need to have it smell beautiful, always have your favorite music blasting around the car, you’re the type to decorate it cars with charms and cute aesthetic things.. you may also have been known in your school, you might’ve been popular or you school in general is popular and looks beautiful!, also your neighborhood might’ve looked very nice too, and you’re known around there to be a beauty!.

LIBRA IN THE 4TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 4TH HOUSE:

THE BEST BAKERS I KNOW, QUEENS AND KINGS OF CARBOHYDRATES AND VANILLA, STOP BECAUSE WHY ARE YOUR BROWNIES AND COOKIES SO DELICIOUS HELLO? we need to have a serious conversation after you give me all of your recipes, also why does your houses and room look so beautiful?, you are the real masters of interior design, like you really know the tips, tricks and the just right color schemes to bring out the best out of every space!, you may also have the best home in the neighborhood or have the best apartment throughout the residency. You may also prefer a minimal aesthetic looking self care products even if they weren’t even benefiting, and you may be the best looking member of your family, you’re the image of it, or all of your family members are quite beautiful, i do believe too that this placement indicates having a beautiful spouse!. Also not to sound like a creep but beautiful chests? Breasts? and it’s not even about the size, im talking about the shape in general (ughh don’t ask me how i know i just do)

LIBRA IN THE 5TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 5TH HOUSE:

Beautiful boyfriends?, you really tend to choose people whom you hookup with carefully, if they’re not good looking bye bye to them (not everyone ofc, beauty definition is diverse to people) you’re known to go to places that look very beautiful and sophisticated for vacations?, also your art!, one of the most elegant and creative art makers you’ll meet in your life, you also may love drawing or painting as a hobby, just any soft and Venusian hobby and practice, maybe even you’re a make up artist!, also you’re hair is known to be the most beautiful about you!.

LIBRA IN THE 6TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 6TH HOUSE.

Pilates princesses?, yes yes yes, i feel like you’re the type who look very beautiful while training since you might prefer low impact practices like yoga and pilates, very graceful while you workout, no sweat or any bad smell and you always have a cup in your to stay hydrated, and it kinda makes since because you’re a taurus rising!, people may enjoy going to different kind of workout practices with you, and you might also be known around your coworkers to be very handsome or charming, you may be the most beautiful one in your company, also you might be the type to dress your dogs or pets in general and groom their hair and build pink houses for them or treat them like your babies!, also your bodies are very beautiful, waist area is very charismatic!.

LIBRA IN THE 7TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE DC.

The father of your children, or your spouse may be quite beautiful, or you’re the one who’s known to be a beautiful housewife/spouse!, really charming, if you ever decide to start a business it may be generally focused on venusian themes, like art, clothes, perfumes, makeup etc… you may also hear things like ‘your taste in men/woman’ is very beautiful etc. your spouse may also find you very beautiful, and of you wanna uncover your hidden enemies see who are close to your spouse, who tend to copy your looks subtly.

LIBRA IN THE 8TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 8TH HOUSE.

Well well should i really pinpoint the obvious?, sexy queens and kings, your kinks may involve art in some sorts or ways?, like painting on each others bodies idk, very ‘lady on the streets freak in the sheets’ placement, you may also be known to have a beautiful kitty, also you’re usually sucker for future spouse readings pacs and astrology content on tumblr lmao, keep feeding your delusions my ladies because you may really manifest your ideal one!, you may also make plastic surgeries to fulfill the ideal image you have for yourself (pisces rising).

LIBRA IN THE 9TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 9TH HOUSE.

You may have studied arts in university or architecture and even law, studies that involved beauty and art, or literature and law, you probably went to one of the most prestigious universities, or your uni looked beautiful, has beautiful sceneries. You also prefer to read rom coms or erotic novels for some reason, you really love romance, and also you may travel to specific countries because they’re known to be beautiful and artistic, like France for example, you probably fit every country beauty standards!, (because of the Aquarius rising, fit every country standards but your own)

LIBRA IN THE 10TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE MC.

The most beautiful woman around the workplace and in your career idc, oh also you might like dating people from work, especially those who has a higher position than you!, like your bosses for example, you also may work with some really beautiful people, like modeling career for example!, you work with beautiful woman or even celebrities, also you may have a really graceful and admired public image!, your career also pays you quite generous amounts of money, salary may be good!!, and you may be lucky in this area, you catch people’s attention easily because of how beautiful you are, and also your long term goals may involve marriage, finding/becoming the ideal spouse or change your looks.

LIBRA IN THE 11TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 11TH HOUSE.

The regina George of your friends group and the Zendaya of social media, blessed with grace and beauty, also good company!. Whatever you do you may see people do the same, i know someone who had this placement back in Highschool and she used to wear glasses, whenever she changed them her friends who also wore glasses always loved to get the same glasses as hers lmao and she had a girl who copied her. you also might be known to be very creative and aesthetic on social media, if you have a personal account or a random account for whatever topic you will make sure it looks aesthetically pleasing, you’ll be told things as ‘your feed so aesthetic’ etc.. you also love taking care of your bio and make sure your posts match each other, also i believe this is one of the trendsetter indicators placement!.

You are really so kind and iconic to the point that whoever enters your life becomes better looking and take care of themselves, it seems like they’ve had a drastic glow up after meeting you because of really how iconic you are, you might also open their eyes onto things they’ve never known, think about it.. how many person changed their style because of you?.

LIBRA IN THE 12TH HOUSE | LIBRA DEGREES 7°, 19° ON THE 12TH HOUSE.

Sleeping beauties?, is your second name princess aurora?, im not even kidding when i say you sleep beautifully, like for real, you barley toss and turn while sleeping, if you for example slept on your right side you without any doubt will wake up in the exact same position, you guys rarely snore, talk or even do anything that might be considered annoying while sleeping, also you know these people who wake up with perfect hair and a fresh face in the morning?, that’s you!. You may also appear in your lovers dreams a-lot, or your husband in case you’re married, you might excel in fulfilling other people’s fantasy about you too because may appear to be the picture perfect partner or the ideal trophy wife, and your enemies may be people whom you’ve had a close romantic relationship with or your business partners, and conflicts may end in court.

also this might be kinda random but do you cook seafood the best or like love it the most?, and also do you make the best cocktails or drinks?, your past may be solely focused on romantic relationships or you have a constant fear of relationships going wrong.

[sugusatosluut]

The Nanny?

Synopsis: Mark finally meets the nanny that Debbie won’t stop talking about.

A/N: I want to preface this by saying thank you all for your kind reblogs and the likes! Makes me so happy that these silly little fics give you guys some joy. Requests are open 🩷🩶💙

Mark finally had some free time to spend with his mother Debbie. He waited at their favorite coffe spot for his mom to arrive with Oliver so they could spend some quality time together. His mother had been mentioning something about special sitters or a daycare for children of supers. Whatever she was talking about, Mark had no time to hear about it, but he had time today. He wanted to know about this society of babysitters his mom believed in. Would Oliver be safe? Would his mother be safe? All valid questions he should have asked upon hearing about this for months.

Debbie finally arrived, Mark watched as she parked, got out of the front seat and scrambled possibly for Oliver in the back seat. To Mark’s surprise, Debbie entered the shop without Oliver in hand and a smile on her face. The gift in her hands was fairly small. She handed the box off silently while still smiling at Mark. She gave Mark a peck on his head and sat down in front of him.

“Hi honey, how are you today?” Debbie asked refreshed.

“Good—listen mom, where’s Oliver?” He asked pretty bluntly.

“Mark, I’ve tried to tell you about this new nanny for months, you gotta keep up with your family and stop spending all that time in space and with Cecil.” She sighed.

“Sorry mom.. what nanny? Can you start from the top?” He asked.

Debbie explained to mark that she interviewed twenty seven babysitters. Each was unique but she could always tell when they were sent by Cecil, or if they weren’t as qualified. Just when she’d given up hope, you walked in. The last interview of the day made her fear for her expectations, until you mentioned that you have a younger sibling who’s always been a super. You offered full time care, housekeeping duties, teaching Oliver and even offered overnight care if Debbie or Mark needed a break or couldn’t make it home. You ended up being the perfect pick. For months, you’d been staying at the Grayson’s caring for Oliver, cleaning and sleeping in Nolan’s old office which was made into a guest bedroom for you. You were practically Debbie’s saving grace.

Upon hearing how you basically saved his mother, Mark was a little skeptical about if you were really working for Cecil or if this was all just a lie. You were usually quiet so Mark would never know you were in his home. This was a but much for Mark to take in, especially because before coming to earth, Mark was Oliver’s sole caretaker. Who could do it better than him?

After lunch Debbie and Mark made it home. You were in the living room playing a memory game with Oliver when they walked into the living room. Mark was expecting Oliver to run to him, calling him “bra-bra” but instead, Oliver stayed focused on the memory game and you, the nanny, who sat taking turns with him matching cards.

“Good afternoon Debbie, Mark. Oliver’s been acing this memory game, you’ve got an Einstein.” You chuckled.

“Thank you y/n.” Debbie hugged you before setting her bags down.

“I’m grilling steak and making pasta tonight for dinner, so you can relax. Mark will you be staying for dinner?” You asked.

“Yeah, sure why not.”

Mark was in shock of how beautiful and kind you were. He was expecting some experienced lady well beyond her years but you? You’re the last thing he would have ever guessed. This didn’t change anything though. He needed to investigate further.

You grilled dinner for the Graysons. The table was set, Oliver’s high chair was prepared and the house was spotless. Mark still felt off. Maybe he was gaslighting himself to protect his family and himself? The fact of the matter is you’re too nice and he doesn’t know you that well. Everyone sat at the table as you buckled Oliver into his seat.you gave Oliver some steak, some applesauce and little cubes of cheese. The baby was growing fast, he was always wanting new things.

“Uhh- y/n, Oliver’s a baby, he can’t have steak.” Mark said.

“Oliver’s grown a lot the past few months Mark, he loves solid foods. Especially chewey foods.” You chuckled. Debbie chuckled handing Oliver a small piece of steak that you cut for him.

“Yummy!” Oliver exclaimed.

“It’s so great to finally meet you Mark. Your mom always tells me how busy you are, how were your last few fights?” You asked.

“Great, it’s hard to be in two places at once though. I wanna care for my family but the world needs protection too.” He said.

“I get that completely, you’re doing a great job. Oliver is so lucky to have you as his brother!” You smiled.

“So, you know Cecil Stedman?” He asked.

“I do. But I don’t work for him. I only know him because my younger brother works for him. Cecil’s not exactly my favorite person and I don’t quite like him that much either. That man is known for crossing boundaries and finding loopholes.” You scoffed.

Mark couldn’t disagree with you there.

“Seriously! The man is just so invasive. You ask him to leave you alone and then suddenly your whole family is getting spied on. This is the man that wants respect and for people to work with him?” Debbie laughed.

Mark hadn’t seen his mom laugh in forever, and it was great to see her finally relax and be happy. After dinner, you and Mark cleaned up the kitchen together. Debbie settled Oliver down for bed and went to go to bed herself. It was nice to be around this family compared to your own. You really never got to see them anymore. Your brother was off fighting some threat in another country while your parents tried to hold you to his standards and use you as the free help if they ever needed him taken care of. It’s probably why you’re so good at your job. You were so deep into your thoughts that you were staring out the window. You didn’t even realize you and Mark had finished cleaning the entire kitchen.

“Hey.. you okay?” Mark asked standing next to you.

“Hm? —oh yeah, sorry. Just a lot going on in my brain. I love being here, Oliver is a wonderful kid and your mom is amazing. I just wish I had this with my family.” You smiled at him. It really was no big deal.

“I’m sorry.. and I want to apologize for being kind of an ass. I was wrong about you. I didn’t say anything to my mom about it and I shouldn’t have come off so strong but I like you. It’s hard for me to trust people especially after my dad. You’re good with Oliver and my mom… and you’re good with me too.” Mark smiled.

He looked at you for quite sometime. Mark had an idea but he would have to wait until Debbie and Oliver were asleep. The night was still young. You showered, changed and prepared your bed for a long night’s sleep until Mark knocked on your cracked door.

“Knock knock” he said smiling. Mark wasn’t in his pajamas, he was in his suit, holding a very much awake Oliver.

“Oh, hey!” You whispered.

“Little man was wide awake in his crib. He wanted to see you.” Mark smiled as he held Oliver.

Oliver cooed, you waited for Mark to give him to you, but it seemed as if he was conflicted. If Mark wanted to put his brother back to sleep, you wouldn’t dare rob him of this time.

“Mark if you have to go fight crime or save the world I’d be happy to let Oliver sleep in my room unless you want to put him to sleep first.” You smiled.

Mark gave you a look of worry. He smiled to Oliver and then to himself.

“Stay awake, I’ll be back.” He said.

It took him a little while, but Mark finally put Oliver to sleep after getting some pointers from you about what Oliver needs for him to get tired.

Mark approached your room again, seeing that you were just barely awake, eyes starting to close as you sat at the edge of your bed. Mark made his presence known before coming to sit next to you.

“Wanna go on a joyride?” He asked.

“Hm? Oh I dunno Mark what about Debbie and Oliver?” You asked.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll be back in an hour.” He smiled at you.

Mark picked you up, you both traveled for a taste of the world’s greatest ice cream. You both bonded and got to know eachother much better before stopping back at the house. You and Mark were in his bedroom watching tv and hanging out.

“I hope I was able to make you more comfortable here in our home y/n. Oliver’s lucky to have a nanny like you and I’m lucky to have someone who cares so much about my family and I. That’s all I’ve been asking for and you do it perfectly.” He smiled at you.

You yawned, standing up and making your way towards Mark’s bedroom door.

“I’m here for you guys, I’m gonna go lay down. Thank you for tonight Mark, you’re too sweet and kind. I’ll see you in the morning.” You smiled at him.

Before leaving his room. Mark stood up and walked towards you. It compelled him, the way you were so kind and respectful. Internally he was conflicted, but externally he knew what he needed from you. So Mark stood close to you, holding your face in his hands and kissed you zealously. Your face was red from the contact. His lips were soft and warm, you wanted more but out of respect for Debbie and love for Oliver, this was your one freebie. Do not take advantage of this.

The next morning you and Mark awoke happily and eager to greet eachother in the morning. Debbie noticed the excitement and joined in hugging her son and you.

“Come on mark we’re gonna be late to the mixer!” She said as she grabbed her keys and rushed to the car.

You said goodbye to Debbie and mark as you waved goodbye with Oliver’s hands. They took off and Debbie took this opportunity to tease him as they entered the car together.

“So… the Nanny?” Debbie chuckled.

“Ugh—mom!” Mark shouted.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Rebirth

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Summary: MC dies and is reborn as an angel to be with her lover (Simeon) / MC dies and is reborn as an angel and falls from grace to be with her lover (everyone else). The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon & Solomon x Reader Word Count: 3,642

Lucifer was not one who was known to show emotion so easily. Usually, he kept his feelings locked up tight for no one else to see.

But, seeing his dead lover standing in front of him was as good an excuse as any to slip up on his cold facade.

He was in front of you before you had even seen him, scrutinizing you with a watchful eye as he tried to discern whether you were real or not.

You couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips as you took in his appearance.

He could tell that it was you and that you were real, but he couldn’t figure out how it was possible.

Slowly, you showed him your wings, explaining everything about your rebirth and your fall. 

There was a switch that flipped inside of Lucifer when he saw your wings. First, he was relieved to see that they weren’t angelic anymore.

After all, even if the fall hadn’t changed them into demon wings, being with him certainly would.

Second, his mind was spinning as he thought about how much stronger you must be now that you were a fallen angel.

The idea of you walking through the Devildom and having a presence that demanded respect from others now was enough to set his sin off and take you back to the House of Lamentation.

He wasted no time in bringing you to his bedroom. He had missed you way too much to waste a single second of his time with you.

He couldn’t help but admire your wings once more when the two of you were in his room. 

He thought it was ironic that you had actually fallen from grace considering the amount of times he had spent with you in the bedroom making you “fall from grace.”

This took a whole new literal meaning for him and the idea made a small blush rise to his cheeks as he realized it wouldn’t be the last time you fell from grace for him either.

The first time Mammon saw you again in the Devildom, he immediately rushed over to you and pulled you into a hug.

He knew that you had died and he didn’t know how you were even in front of him right now. 

He didn’t care if you were a ghost, a hallucination, or whatever else you could have been.

He just needed you back in his arms where you belonged, even if it was just for a moment.

He had been miserable without you, down-right depressed, and even if this wasn’t real, he was going to savor every moment of it.

You hugged him back with just as much love, craving his touch as much as he had been craving yours.

After the initial few moments passed and Mammon realized you hadn’t disappeared yet, he pulled back to look at you. 

“How are ya’ here?” he asked you, taking in all of your features as if it was the first time seeing them.

When you explained everything to him about being reborn as an angel and falling to be with him again, he wasn’t sure how to feel. There were too many emotions and not enough time to sort through all of them.

But, the most prominent emotion he felt was love. Love for you and loved by you.

He immediately pulled you into a kiss, the feeling of your lips burning on his own.

When the two of you were in the privacy of his room, Mammon begged you to show him your wings.

If you were a fallen angel, you definitely had them and the curiosity of what they looked like was killing him.

You complied, a bit nervous about what he would think of them. Mammon wasn’t expecting them to look that good on you.

He couldn’t even come up with words, instead turning bright red, as he tried to push any and all intruding thoughts out of his mind.

He was absolutely loving how much of a badass you looked like as a fallen angel.

But, definitely sulked a bit when he realized he couldn’t call you “his human” anymore.

You had to go to the House of Lamentation to see Levi again.

He hadn’t left his room since your death and he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.

Everything reminded him of you and it was too painful so he spent his time in solidarity, hoping to distract himself from the pain with the things he loved.

When he heard knocking on the door, he ignored it. When the knocking continued, he promptly told whoever it was to go away. When it still didn’t stop, he opened the door angrily, ready to tell whoever it was off.

But, the last thing he expected was for you to be on the other side of the door and he was completely caught off-guard.

He experienced a rush of emotions as you closed the gap between the two of you, knowing that if you didn’t, the two of you would be stuck in this endless stalemate.

Levi froze as he felt your arms around him - arms he had fantasized about being around him again.

He was sure this wasn’t real, that you would disappear any moment, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

You pulled away after a moment, and Levi was still in shock.

He stayed quiet as you explained everything and you mistook his silence for disbelief. 

So, you had no choice but to show him your wings to prove that everything you were saying was real.

And, seeing your new wings snapped him out of his trance instantly as he immediately began fangirling over them.

They looked so good on you, and they had such a unique texture. He was a blushing mess as he realized he touched them without asking for permission. 

You thought it was cute, how he was still nervous to touch you despite him touching you countless times before.

He had a million questions for you that you did your best to answer and it’s only after his interrogation that he realized you were really back.

And as he processed that information, he couldn’t be any happier than now with you - his new fallen angel.

Satan took a moment to analyze everything about his current surroundings when he saw you.

You stood in front of him, a bit away, wanting nothing more than to run directly into his arms while he stood there running every possibility through his mind.

He approached you carefully, taking in every piece of evidence he could acquire to prove you weren’t real.

He stood directly in front of you now, able to reach out and touch you. He gently stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, questioning his own senses.

Because you felt real. And you looked real. But he had seen you die.

You already knew what Satan was thinking without him having to say a word and you gently took his hands in yours before telling him, “I’m real.”

Your words gave him all the validation he needed and within a moment, you were pulled into his embrace.

Your head rested against his chest as he held you impossibly close before asking, “But, how?”

You pulled away from the hug to explain everything to Satan and to say he was surprised was an understatement.

You being here certainly made things easier for him. After all, he had been studying re-animation spells since the moment you died, intent on bringing you back to life.

He didn’t even know that it was possible for you to be reborn as an angel. You did have a piece of Lilith inside of you, but would that have been enough?

He was a man of hard facts and proof. So it wasn’t until you were showing him your angel wings, distorted from the fall, that he allowed himself to believe what was happening.

And you were like a whole new muse for him. Not only did he get his lover back, but he was so excited to explore all your new powers with you as an angel.

He never got wings like his other brothers so he didn’t know a whole lot about them on a personal level and now he was getting the chance to inspect them in great detail with you by his side once again.

Asmo is a complete mess the second he sees you again. Crying, hugs, kisses all over. You’ll get the full treatment when you’re back in his arms. 

You already knew how much Asmo loved you. He made it a point to express it to you every day.

But, he’ll want to make sure you know it again when you come back to him. He wants to make sure you can feel it so that you never leave him again.

He was a wreck without you. He was lonely and sad and it was a terrible look for him.

But now that you were back, it felt like the pieces of his heart were slowly healing back together.

Everything felt right in his world when you were in his arms and he planned on never letting go.

But, you needed him to let go, just for a moment. So you could explain what had happened.

He brought you to his bedroom so that the two of you could speak in private and when you told him everything, his eyes lit up with excitement.

His mind was filled with images of how attractive you must look with your new wings and he had to see them.

You agreed to show them to him, knowing it would make him happy and as he took them in, you could see his eyes feeling with lust.

You looked even more attractive than he could ever imagine.

It was a good thing the two of you were in his bedroom already because he wanted to show you how much he loved you and now, he planned on showing you all of the advantages that came with having wings.

Beel loved you and that was a fact that would never change even if your appearance did.

The moment he saw you again, he didn’t see anything else around him.

Your wings were currently out, but he didn’t even notice them, focusing solely on you being in his arms again.

He had been hurting so much since you died and now that you were in front of him, he just needed to feel you in his arms again.

He refused to budge from the hug as he asked you how you were there, so you had to explain everything while your head was pressed against his chest.

He took in all of the information you had said, but he was having a hard time processing it.

You were reborn as an angel? And you fell from the Celestial Realm to be with him?

He finally pulled away from the hug to take in your appearance and that’s when he noticed the wings that were now attached to you.

His big hands reached out to touch them and, despite their size, the touch was gentle. 

You blushed at the contact and Beel realized how intimate what he just did was. 

He didn’t mean to act so brashly, but he couldn’t help it - your wings were beautiful.

He absolutely loved them and it just gave him more of you to love and cherish.

He took in your wings once more, burning the image of them into his mind, before pulling you into his embrace again and placing a loving kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” he told you, barely above a whisper, feeling like he had just regained his entire world.

You gave him a small smile before leaning up and placing your lips on his in a loving kiss before replying, “Thank you for loving me.”

Beel is not only happy about your new appearance but he’s thankful you have more power to help keep you safe in the Devildom now.

Belphie’s eyes are wide when he finally sees you again after all the time that had passed since you died.

He didn’t know how to react because he didn’t know how much he could trust what he was seeing.

He is immediately filled with love and relief but goes against his instinct to pull you into his embrace, choosing to get answers first.

You told him everything you could and Belphie almost couldn’t believe the words that you were saying.

When you were done with your explanation, you waited patiently for Belphie to speak.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” he replied after some time and you felt deflated. You didn’t know how to make him believe you were real.

“I mean the Y/N I knew could never be nice enough to be reborn as an angel,” he added with a teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

You were now glaring at him from the small insult and that look was all it took for him to know that it was really you.

“I mean you don’t even have wings,” Belphie continued. He loved being a brat and riling you up.

You let out a sigh before showing him your wings and that immediately shut him up as he looked at them with admiration.

A small blush rose to his cheeks as he averted his gaze, trying to hide his attraction to them.

But, you knew him too well and couldn’t help but want your revenge for his earlier comment.

“What’s the matter, Belphie? You don’t think they’re attractive do you?” you asked innocently and his blush only deepened.

The two of you often got into these battles, refusing to back down and this time was no different. 

If it was a fight to make each other more flustered, he wanted to win just as much as you and it didn’t take him more than a moment to escalate things by pulling you into a kiss.

You might have some extra power and new wings now that you were a fallen angel, but your and Belphie’s relationship would always be the same no matter how you changed.

Barbatos hadn’t given Diavolo any indication as to what was going on when he asked him to come to the main foyer.

But, of all the things, he did not expect to see his lover who had recently died standing there before him.

Diavolo was overwhelmed by what he was feeling when he saw you there, wanting nothing more than to go to you.

He looked to his friend and butler, silently asking for confirmation that you were really there.

Barbatos nodded his head and in an instant, Diavolo was standing in front of you, gently cupping your cheek as his golden eyes looked into yours.

“Have you really come back to me?” he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of this being fake despite Barbatos confirming it was real.

You placed one of your hands over his own before nodding your head and explaining how you were standing there before him.

Diavolo was confused as to how you were reborn as an angel, but he focused on the second part of your story.

You fell from grace - for him. And that detail made him fall in love with you all over again.

You pulled away from his touch for a moment to show him your wings and Diavolo’s eyes darkened as he looked at them.

Not only were you an angel - but you were a fallen angel and there was something incredibly alluring about that. There was something that felt wrongfully right about that. Especially to the future King of the Devildom.

Diavolo wasted no time in inviting you to his bedroom, wanting to finally feel your touch again. 

Not to mention the fact that he wanted to test out your new strength as a fallen angel.

Barbatos was the one who sought you out instead of the other way around. 

But, with his powers, what else could be expected?

You had died before and he was able to bring you back, but something was different this time. He couldn’t bring you back like before and it was like driving a knife through his heart.

He didn’t give up hope though. He promised himself he would find a way to revive you. To bring you back to him.

And, while he was searching he happened to catch a glimpse of you. It should have been impossible because you were dead - right?

He looked further into it and that’s when he saw everything from you being reborn to everything that led up to you falling to come back to him.

And he met you right at the spot you fell at. You were disoriented and in pain, but as you slowly came to, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you.

When your vision cleared, you saw none other than Barbatos holding you, a small smirk resting on his face as he asked, “What have you gotten yourself into this time, darling?”

And that pet name was enough to send a shiver down your spine as you looked into his green eyes that were shining with excitement. 

They trailed down your face before flickering over to your wings - wings that had been manipulated from ones of light to ones of darkness because of the fall.

And he found a twisted gratification in the idea of you “falling from grace”. But, who could blame him? He was a demon and you were his lover.

He immediately took you back to the Demon Lord’s Castle and spent the rest of the night with you. 

He had spent far too much time away from you and he had a lot to make up for.

Simeon had returned to the Celestial Realm after his time in the Devildom, but something was fundamentally different about him ever since he lost you.

He didn’t smile as much and the look in his eyes was noticeably duller because he had lost the love of his life.

Simeon was the first to find out that you were being reborn as an angel and the news had shaken him to his core.

He didn’t know what the proper response was to finding out your lover was not only coming back to life but being reborn as an angel.

He demanded he be there when you woke up from the deep slumber you had previously been in.

And he watched over your body as you slept, praying that it would work. Praying that you would come back to him.

When you slowly fluttered your eyes open, Simeon had to hold back his tears as he immediately pulled you into his arms, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

He took in everything about you and you let out a small chuckle at how tightly he was holding onto you.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against you, his lips brushing against your neck and sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulled back to look into your eyes and couldn’t help the smile that formed across his lips.

You stretched your wings out, wanting to see your new appearance and you took them in before looking at Simeon.

A small blush tinted your cheeks as you saw him staring at your wings with a kind of intensity that was far too intimate for any setting but the bedroom.

“How do they look?” you asked him and he brought his eyes to meet yours, feeling the pain that he had been feeling steadily washing away.

He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb before stating, “You’re beautiful.”

Solomon had been searching high and low for the most powerful grimoires in the world, trying to find any way to bring you back to life.

And he wasn’t going to stop until he found a way to have you back in his arms.

But, he never would have dreamed that you would come back to him all on your own.

It didn’t matter if you were a fallen angel or if you still had your grace. Solomon loved you either way.

You could have come back in any form and he would love you, as long as you were you.

If you stayed in your true angel form, Solomon can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

The passion wouldn’t change in your relationship and he had to admit there was something taboo and sinful about being intimate with you as an angel.

But that made things all the more exciting, especially because he knew how powerful you were now.

If you had fallen from grace to return to the Devildom, Solomon would still think you were just as beautiful.

But instead of an innocent beauty, it was one that demanded everyone’s attention. 

You looked badass and the dark and slightly twisted look of your angelic appearance was enough to drive him mad with attraction.

As an angel, he would know you had newfound power, but as a fallen angel, there’s an even more intimidating presence that came with that power.

Solomon was used to being the most powerful being in the room, but with you being reborn, your power felt like it matched, if not overpowered, his own and that idea was exhilarating.

Whether you were a fallen angel or not, Solomon would waste no time in being with you.

Regardless of your status of grace, you were his lover and he felt like it had been too long since he had been able to remind you of that fact.

[admiringlove]

tw: nsfw, afab/fem! reader. themes of insecurity. a/n. this is me practicing to write smut properly. do drop a comment if there's any advice or comments because i'm only just starting to write nsfw after a decade of writing sfw things 😭🙏

[22:02] . . .

“hey.”

you open the door just a sliver first, out of habit, out of anxiety, out of something you can’t name, and then wider—letting it swing open until it hits the rubber stopper near the wall. you’re leaning on it, the wood cool against the back of your arm, and the hallway lights pour in behind geto like they’re illuminating something cinematic. but he’s just there. as usual. hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, chin tilted down just slightly like he’s already bracing for your mood, your sharp tongue, your jokes. he steps in without asking, of course he does. doesn’t even give you a second glance as he passes by, like he already owns the air between you.

you watch his back retreat into your space—your soft, stupid, lived-in dorm with the dumb clutter and gojo’s idiotic meme posters and the bunny plushie you still sleep with—and you sigh, defeated in the way you only get around him. you throw yourself on the bed the way someone might fall into water: all abandon and no grace. the mattress groans beneath you, and you reach blindly for your book, the one you were pretending to read before he knocked.

“you didn’t look too good today,” suguru says casually. not cruel. just noticing. “i go too rough on you in training?”

“you wish,” you mutter, but it’s a breathless thing. you’re already losing the thread of what you meant to say next, already faltering. because when you glance up, he’s watching you.

and not in that indifferent, smug way you’re used to. no, tonight he’s watching you the way someone might watch the clouds before a storm, or the water before it breaks into waves. calculating. quiet. his brow lifts slightly, and suddenly you’re flustered. you’re tucking your legs under you. you’re sitting up straighter. you’re all too aware of how fucking childish your dorm looks. you want to hide the plushies, the figurines, the chipped mugs with silly quotes on them, the tangle of rollerblades and laundry in the corner.

and he’s still just staring. you are eighteen years old but somehow you feel twelve in front of him.

because this is geto suguru, and the thing about suguru is that everyone knows what you feel. it’s not a secret. not really. you’re sure even the new first years can see it. your feelings stick to you like static. like glitter. like something embarrassing you can’t scrub off. and the worst part? he knows. of course he knows. he’s him. he knows and he does nothing. says nothing. just keeps stringing you along with touches that don’t mean anything and smiles that might mean everything.

you look down. you rub your thighs together where they’re bare above the hem of your shorts. you can feel the heat rising to your face. “i don’t know. i’ve just been stressed lately.”

“stressed?” he echoes. skeptical. the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly. “your cursed energy feels fine. missions are going well. didn’t you ace all your exams?”

“yeah, i mean, i did. but…” you shrug, your voice trailing into a quieter register. “i don’t know. it feels like i’m burning out. like i’m... like i’m disappearing a little more every day and i don’t know how to stop it.”

he tilts his head, something slow and calculating moving behind his eyes. he looks at you like he’s cataloguing every little tick in your expression. every word you don’t say. “don’t you do anything to destress?”

you shrug again, a little defensive now. “i do. i play games with satoru. i go out with shoko. i go rollerblading with haibara and nanami. i get food with you.”

geto rolls his eyes, and stands up. and now your whole body is on high alert.

you shift slightly on the bed, tracking him as he walks toward you. your back straightens without meaning to, your hands fidget in your lap, your gaze dips but then darts back up—like you’re scared to watch him and scared not to. his steps are lazy but deliberate. his presence fills the room like heat, like static, like something you don’t know how to handle.

“i mean something that really gets your mind off things,” he says, voice low now, deeper. “off jujutsu. off curses. off all this trying-to-be-better bullshit. something that makes you forget the weight.”

“i just said i—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“honey.”

he says it flat. like it’s nothing. like it’s air. but it breaks you open.

your whole body stills. your heart stops, or jumps, or stutters—you can’t tell anymore. the word hits you low and warm in your belly. like syrup. like sin. and he’s standing between your legs now. you don’t remember letting him get this close, but he is. so close. close enough that you can smell his cologne. close enough that your breath is fanning against his stomach.

“video games and burgers aren’t gonna fix burnout,” suguru says, lifting his hand. the pads of his fingers brush beneath your chin, tilt your face up like you’re made of something softer than you feel. “you need to find something that helps you come back to your body. that makes you feel like yourself again.”

your mind goes completely, utterly blank.

because a year ago, you dreamed about this. a thousand different versions of it. of him standing in this tiny room with its ugly carpet and hand-me-down furniture and mismatched blankets. of him with you—really with you. and now it’s happening. and you don’t know what to say. what to do. you just look up at him, wide-eyed and trembling and painfully aware of how little there is between your skin and his. and your heart, god, your heart—beating too loud. too fast.

you swallow. “i can’t think,” you say softly, almost a whisper. almost a confession.

suguru just smiles. slow. knowing. ruinous. “good,” he says.

“tell me,” he murmurs, voice a velvet edge. his fingers trail over your cheek with the kind of care that feels surgical. like he’s trying to peel you back, layer by layer, until there’s nothing left but pulse and breath. his index finger pauses at your temple, resting there, light but deliberate. as if he could press through the bone and unravel the knots behind your eyes. “do you touch yourself?”

you blink. like a fool. like a deer in the middle of a highway. like someone who was never built for this kind of intimacy, at least not with him. you stare up at geto, wide-eyed and stilled, until your mouth finally works around the echo: “do i what?”

his grin is unfair. crooked and indulgent, something close to cruel but not quite. not really. he licks his lips, eyes half-lidded as he leans in just enough for his breath to skate over your skin. “do you touch yourself, dummy?”

dummy. a nickname soaked in condescension and something teasing and dangerous and so casually affectionate it borders on unkind. it makes your stomach clench, the humiliation immediate and bright, because you are a dummy in front of suguru. you always have been.

you’ve loved him too long, too quietly. you’ve followed him through fire and rain and boredom. you’ve laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny. you’ve clung to every offhanded compliment like it was scripture. and now? now he’s touching your face like you’re glass he’s trying to see through. and smiling at you like he knows exactly what you’ll say before you say it. still, your voice comes out small.

“i do,” you admit. it’s pathetic, the way you say it. barely above a whisper. your hands fidget in your lap, knees nudging together, shame gathering under your skin like a fever. “but… not like that.”

his smile fades, just the tiniest bit, replaced with something slower. quieter. more curious than mocking. “not like what?”

you’re staring at his mouth now. at the way it moves when he speaks. at the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips without thinking. you want to blame the heat in your face on the way he’s looking at you, but the truth is you’ve been this way since the moment you let him into your room.

you hesitate. your throat clicks when you swallow.

“like…” you pause. your eyes fall to his shirt collar. to the bare sliver of skin at his throat. to the faint pulse there. you wonder if it speeds up the way yours does.

“…like orgasmed.”

the word comes out too final. like a confession in a hospital bed. like something ugly and medical and wrong. you hate it. you hate saying it out loud, especially in front of suguru, especially when his gaze sharpens immediately. not cruel, no—but focused. attentive in the way men become when they want something they don’t yet have. when they’ve just discovered that they’re the first. that you’ve never—not with anyone. not even yourself.

his brow creases a little. not from pity. but consideration.

you can feel it shift between you. the weight of that revelation. the way it makes the air a little heavier, the silence a little longer. and for a second, you want to take it back. want to lie. want to pretend you’re not as young and foolish and untouched as he always suspected.

but suguru just lets out a soft sound. barely a hum. then he slides his hand from your cheek to your throat, thumb pressing gently at the hollow there. his other hand finds your wrist, holds it like it’s fragile.

“then,” he says, voice dipped in honey and smoke, “i guess we should fix that.”

“h-huh?” you look up, blinking, like you’ve just woken from a half-remembered dream. “what do you mean, ‘we should fix that’?”

he drags the words out slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the weight of them. “i mean,” he says, voice low and thick with something unspoken, “show me.”

you blink again, as if the meaning might slip past you, but it doesn’t. you know exactly what he’s asking. it’s there, heavy and sharp between you, like a secret you’ve carried too long. your ribs cave inward, your body folding in on itself, caught somewhere between wanting and fearing. it’s like you’re suspended in limbo, waiting for a sleep that never comes. you’ve waited so long—so fucking long—for him to make a move, to break the silence, to cross the line. but he never has. and now, with the moment finally here, you don’t know what to do. all this time, you would’ve traded every drop of blood, every ounce of sweat and tear, for just one look from him. one sign that you mattered more than a passing thought.

“suguru,” you whisper, voice barely more than a breath. “i…”

“lay back, pretty,” he interrupts, sliding down to his knees at the edge of your bed. his smirk is slow, knowing, like he’s finally shedding the weight of the distance between you. you watch him lean in, the space between you shrinking until it’s nothing but heat and breath. then his lips press softly against the bare skin of your thigh, cool and deliberate. you gulp, breath hitching, a shaky exhale escaping you. “suguru, ’m not sure about this.”

his eyes lift to meet yours, sharp but patient, hand splayed wide across your thigh as if to anchor you. “do you want me to stop?” his brow arches, waiting, but there’s no cruelty there. you know that if you said the word, he would stop. immediately. because that’s who he is. mean, yes, but never careless. almost cruel, but never actually.

but now, here he is. taking the first step. kneeling before you, lips still ghosting against your skin. you swallow hard, throat bobbing, and then shake your head. no. not yet. not ever.

his brow dips again, and he presses another kiss to your thigh, soft and slow, sending tingles skittering across your nerves. then he murmurs, voice a velvet thread pulling you closer, “come on. show me how you do it.”

you feel like you’re slipping into a new kind of hell. the air thickens around you, and you scoot back just a little, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. you can feel him watching—suguru—his sharp gaze tracing every inch of you, and somehow, that only makes everything worse. your hands come up to rub your thighs together again, but this time, you’re painfully aware of what’s happening beneath your skin. you feel it. warm, slick, impossible to ignore. you gulp, voice barely steady. “i start like this.”

your hands tremble as they rise to your neck, fingers ghosting over skin that feels suddenly too exposed. you move slow, deliberate, as if each touch is a secret you’re sharing with yourself, and with him. one hand drifts to your collarbone, the other hovers just above your breast, fingers brushing lightly, teasing. geto watches. he’s watching, always watching, and god, you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together again, desperate for some kind of relief. your breath catches, shaky and uneven, and your hand closes over your breast, squeezing. a gasp slips out—unbidden, raw—and your fingers find your nipple, kneading it like they belong there, like they’ve been waiting for this moment. and still, his eyes don’t leave you. your thighs part slowly, hesitantly, and your breath grows shallower, more ragged.

“t-then,” you falter, voice breaking as you lower one hand, letting your fingers brush over his hand still resting on your thigh. it hasn’t moved—not once. you trace your fingertips over your inner thigh, inching higher, higher, until you can feel almost the dampness of your cunt against your skin.

“i-i should probably stand, huh? to get my shorts... off,” you stammer, voice small and uncertain.

he says nothing. just breathes in sharply, the sound low and deliberate. then he rises, deliberately slow, bending down again. his hands find the hem of your waistband without hesitation, fingers curling around the fabric. with one smooth motion, he pulls your shorts off, letting them fall away like a barrier removed.

you watch as his eyes widen, the sharpness in them flickering like a flame caught in a sudden gust. he blinks, and you know he’s realizing there’s nothing there. nothing beneath your shorts. your skin bare, exposed in a way that feels both terrifying and electric. you swallow hard, voice catching before you manage, “s-sugu—”

“sit back down,” he says, voice tight, strained with something you can’t quite name. “fuck, sit down.”

you obey without hesitation. the weight of his command settles over you like a tide you can’t fight. it feels like the only thing you’re meant to do. like you’re already under him, beneath his will, and you always will be. you watch as he lowers himself back to his knees in front of you, eyes fixed on your face—waiting, patient, expectant. and you respond. you spread your legs, slow and deliberate, and he winces. a sharp, almost pained movement that makes your chest tighten.

“what?” you murmur, about to close them again, but his hand stays firm on your thigh, anchoring you. you furrow your brows, confused.

“didn’t expect you to do it so easily,” he says, voice low and rough. “y’know, letting me see you. fuck.”

your gaze follows his line of vision, down to where your slickness glistens—wet and shining like a secret spilled onto your sheets. you shift slightly, feeling the dampness spread, warm and sticky against your skin. “i—um…”

“keep going,” he urges, softer now, like a teacher coaxing a hesitant student. “i’ll tell you where you’re going wrong.”

“where i’m going wrong?” you echo, a flicker of amusement in your voice. one hand moves down, trembling slightly as your fingers brush over yourself. your index finger teases your entrance, slow and deliberate, not curling, just exploring. you catch the way suguru swallows, the subtle tightening in his pants, the bead of sweat gathering at his temple. it’s like you’re unraveling him, piece by piece, and for the first time, you don’t feel like a child in front of him anymore.

you press a finger inside, slow and steady, savoring the stretch, the slick heat that wraps around you. your body hums with a fierce, burning pleasure—sharp and deep and impossible to ignore. your cunt feels alive in a way it never does when you’re alone—heightened, raw, as if every nerve ending is on fire just because he’s watching. because you’re being watched. “then i keep going like this, but i never come. i can go up to three fingers, too, i think.”

he curses under his breath, low and rough. “jesus.”

“y-yeah,” you say, shifting one foot up to the edge of the bed, opening yourself wider. his eyes lock onto yours, dark, before he asks, “don’t you touch your clit?”

“’s too sensitive,” you admit, shaking your head. “i can never stay there too long.”

he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes with a mix of amusement and disbelief. then his gaze drops to your slick folds, then back up to you. “can i?”

your stomach twists in a delicious way, a coil tightening low and slow. you nod, breath hitching. “yeah.”

he’s on you in an instant. lips crashing against yours, urgent, demanding as he pulls you down, one hand tangling in the back of your neck. you moan into the kiss, breath shaky and warm. his other hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers grazing your ribs before he lifts the fabric, revealing the bare skin beneath. he clicks his tongue again, a sound thick with surprise and something darker when he realizes there’s no bra.

“you always go around wearing nothing under your clothes?”

“no,” you breathe out, chest rising and falling unevenly, “just on nights i’m about to sleep early. maybe touch myself for a bit.”

“can never make yourself come, anyway,” he says, voice edged with a sharp bite as his fingers spread your thighs wider, exposing you fully. “what’s the point?”

“can’t a girl try?” you challenge, falling back onto the bed but propping yourself up on your elbows, eyes locked on his. he grins then—slow, devilish, the kind of grin that promises trouble.

his fingers slide up from your slick entrance, tracing the delicate folds before settling on your clit. the touch is featherlight at first, teasing, coaxing. a moan escapes you, unguardedly raw, your head falling back as the sensation spreads like wildfire through your body. it’s nothing like when you do it alone—this is deeper, more consuming. his fingers pulse and circle with a rhythm that feels both foreign and achingly familiar, and your skin flushes hot, every nerve ending alive with pleasure.

your breath quickens, as waves of heat roll through you, building, building, until your body trembles on the edge of something fierce and overwhelming. you’re lost in the sensation—so different, so much more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. and through it all, he watches, unyieldingly attentive, like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this moment.

“you feel this?” suguru murmurs, voice low. “this is what you were too ‘sensitive’ to do.”

“don’t tease me,” you breathe back, panting, voice thick with want and frustration. “you’re supposed to be teaching me.”

he hums softly, a chuckle vibrating against your skin before his lips press a wet kiss to the crown of your head. his finger slides down your slit, but his thumb lingers, resting on your clit. a sharp gasp escapes you when he teases at your entrance—he doesn’t push inside, doesn’t dare. instead, he just watches, that smug smile curling at the edges of his mouth as you shudder beneath his touch, feeling a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known.

“touching yourself isn’t just about doing it for the sake of it, dummy,” he says, thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. you groan, eyes squeezed shut, hands clutching at him, at the sheets, at anything you can hold onto. his voice drops lower, thick with something fierce and knowing. “it’s about the ride. the high. the chase. and the release.”

“i’ve never felt anything like this,” you whisper, trembling.

he chuckles again, then slides a finger inside you without hesitation. your eyes widen at the sudden fullness, the delicious stretch. “well,” he says, voice steady, “i’m not stopping till you come.”

“and what if... what if i can’t?” you breathe out, voice fragile as he adds another finger, thicker, longer than yours ever were. every nerve in your body seems to flare, senses sharpened to a razor’s edge. the world narrows to the heat between your legs, the slick press of his fingers, the sound of your own ragged breaths.

he shakes his head, low and amused. “you can. you were just too chicken to touch yourself properly. let go, dummy.”

“stop calling me that,” you say, voice breaking between gasps, as he leans down to kiss you again, lips soft but demanding.

the wet, desperate sounds spilling from your cunt are nothing short of sin—so lewd, so raw, so achingly good. it’s a flood of sensation that crashes through you, deeper and richer than anything you’ve ever dared to feel before.

it’s so good. it makes you feel so good. so much more than before.

“you feel it building?” he asks, brow raised like he’s already reading the answer on your face.

you press your lips into a straight line, breath catching just a little. “a bit.”

“a bit,” he repeats under his breath, with a sharp edge of attitude. he huffs, amused. “you’re a tough one, aren’t you?”

“h-huh?” your brows knit together, confused for a moment, before he leans in and kisses the hollow of your neck. the air rushes out of your lungs in a sharp gasp as his lips suck and press there, sending a jolt straight through you. you moan his name, loud and raw, the sound trembling from deep inside. something about this—your nearly bare skin against his fully clothed body, the hard press of his cock against your thigh—sets your nerves on fire. you whisper, desperate, “i need you.”

he pauses, hovering over you, voice low and steady. “i’m not fucking you tonight.”

“what does that mean?” you ask, brows furrowing, voice sharp and accusing, just as his fingers speed up their rhythm against your clit.

and then you feel it—the slow, relentless building coil of pleasure tightening inside you. you gasp, breath breaking in the most desperate way. suguru chuckles softly, that devilish smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “so my dummy here doesn’t get off to my fingers inside her, but on her clit. that’s interesting.”

“n-no,” you pant, overwhelmed. his breath hot against your skin, his cock pressing steady against your thigh, his fingers moving with a surety that makes your body tremble. “go back to the part where you said you’re not fucking me tonight.”

“i’m not,” he says, shaking his head slowly, voice low. “i’m gonna make you come, then we’re gonna sneak out and get burgers at the diner with satoru and shoko. that’s why i came here. to get you.”

“you're such a dick,” you breathe, unable to bear the mounting pleasure anymore. it’s been building, relentlessly fierce, with no release in sight. his voice in your ear, the wet sounds between your thighs, his fingers still buried inside you, thumb circling your clit like it’s the only thing that matters. he rubs slow, then presses harder, and when he does both at once, it steals your breath away—like the air’s been sucked from your lungs. “t-there!”

“i got it, didn’t i?” he laughs, voice warm and teasing as he kisses the shell of your ear. when he presses again, you inhale sharply, voice trembling. “’m gonna come.”

“perfect,” he whispers, “keep going. grind against it.”

and you do. you obey without hesitation because nothing else exists. your vision narrows to a tunnel, and he’s the only light at the end of it. everything else blurs into haze as you grind your hips, arch your back, buck your body like this is the one thing you’ve been waiting for your whole life.

and then you come. it’s not a crashing explosion but a soaring high that lifts you, leaves you breathless and still. you lie there, trembling, as he pulls his fingers from you. your head feels light, your body quivering with aftershocks. your cunt spasms around empty air, and he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your head, showing you the slick sheen on his fingers. you can’t look away as he slowly, deliberately cleans them with his tongue, licking every drop of you from his skin.

it makes your whole body twitch with a delicious shiver.

“look at you,” he says softly, voice thick with something tender. “that feel good?”

“yeah,” you whisper, words barely there. “it felt like everything you said. the chase. the high. whatever.”

“yeah?” he grins, eyes dark and amused. “it was everything, huh?”

you hum, sitting up slowly, pulling your shirt back down over your flushed skin. you watch as he rifles through your dresser, tossing a pair of sweatpants at you. then he pulls out a pair of black panties, holding them up with a wicked smile.

“these look good.”

“f-for now? to sneak out?” you ask, voice small.

“no, dummy,” suguru says, eyes glinting like the devil himself, before stuffing them into his pocket. “for me to keep.”

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Did it first || Jeff the killer

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: yandere!jeff, stalking, murder, squirting

Jeff thought you were perfect. He immortalized you. You were his saving grace in a world so cold. You lived a normal life, one that wasn't an option for him anymore. You worked at a law firm, lived in the suburbs. Being with you was like checking his life out at your doorstep before coming inside. If he was being truthful, your average life was apart of his attraction to you. His infatuation with you was anything but healthy. This wasn't a love story for him. It was a passion, a pure and uncensored obsession. He didn't know what to do with these emotions. These pent up desires and cravings. The best part about it?

You didn't even know he was there.

While watching you, he always wondered to himself, what you were thinking? Despite seemingly being invested in whatever was in front of you, your eyes always seemed to stare into outer space. Something was on your mind, Jeff just couldn't place what it was. That was of course, until a man showed up at your doorstep.

That man wasn't Jeff. Jeff learned this man to be a coworker of yours named Jim. The pale killer spent an ungodly amount of time researching Jim. Who was he? Why was he at your house? What was Jim to you? You had never shown romantic interest in anyone before. Jeff had been with you for over a year now and you had never shown desire for another partner. It made the pale killer sick to watch him bring you flowers and chocolates. It made his stomach churn, watching you accept them. The loser didn't even know your favorite flower was lily's not stereotypical roses. He also didn't even bother to know you were allergic to nuts, unable to eat the store bought chocolates. Jeff may not have been a materialistic lover, but he most certainly went above and beyond physically.

You unknowingly had your own guard dog. You walked home from work every weeknight at a crisp six pm, right as the sun would start to set. Your car had 'somehow' broken down a few months ago, the car dealership telling you there were so many internal issues you might as well invest in a new car. What could Jeff say? It was easier to watch over you on foot. He considered himself an unconvential guardian angel of sorts. Jeff lost count of how many men he had mercilessly slaughtered after cat calling you or trying to follow you. Jeff took pride in it, being your savior. He was disgusted as he watched you smile and hug Jim. He shook his head, gritting his teeth. Clearly being your savior wasn't enough. What could Jim provide that he couldn't? Was it sex? Jeff knew your house like the back of his hand. You always left the right window in your living room cracked open for fresh air. Jeff may have tampered with your AC to ensure he could gain proper entry.

He didn't want you to have any intruders he couldn't protect you from. Jeff slid into your closet, watching through the cracked door as you let Jim lay you down on your bed. It took everything in him to not slit his throat right then and there. He watched as Jim sloppily kissed you, practically slobbering on your lips. You were a good actress, pretending to be more turned on then you actually were. Jeff knew all too well what you being hot and bothered looked like. The late nights you spent touching yourself to BDSM porn. He ensured to watch the same videos you did, just to make sure he knew what you were into for when the time came. Jim clearly didn't do even half of his research, skipping foreplay with you entirely. You pretended to not be bothered. If wasn't for the pure envy that ran through Jeff's veins he would've enjoyed the show. You were on all fours, back not even arched in the slightest. Jim couldn't see your beautiful face, but Jeff could. You were bored out of your mind as he fucked you.

Jeff would like to think what he did next was out of your best interest. He patiently waited until Jim finished, not bothering to tend to your needs. He watched the man slump beside you, his eyes fluttering shut. No aftercare either? Jeff sighed. You really knew how to pick em. He watched you slide out of bed naked, your ass jiggling as you slithered out of the room. You shut the bedroom door, giving Jeff the perfect opportunity to make his grand appearance. "Show time," He snickered to himself, pushing your closet door open. Jeff would have loved nothing more than to take his time with Jim. To cut open his insides and make him eat his own intestines. But the pale killer knew there was more important matters at hand. Your satisfaction meant more than his own, meaning Jeff would need to make this as quick as possible. He climbed onto the bed, slapping Jim awake. Jim awoke with beady and fearful eyes, unable to make a sound before Jeff plunged his knife into his chest. "Go to sleep," He snarled, twisting the knife into his chest. Normally Jeff would have taken the time to do his signature, but he could hear you turning on the shower.

You didn't deserve to have to make yourself cum. Sure your experiment was a complete and utter failure, but Jeff knew you were just testing the waters. He knew without a shadow of a doubt you were just testing how far Jeff would go for you. And this? The corpse that was displayed on your mattress? This would show you. But what would show you even more, was him finally gaining the courage to say hi. He watched the life slowly drain from Jim's eyes as he climbed out of your bed, carelessly opening your bedroom door with his bloody hand. He walked over to your bathroom, the steam from the hot water leaking through the door. Jeff could hear your pathetic little whimpers. You were so predictable. The pale killer let himself inside, your sinful noises coming to a halt. "Jim?" You called out, already wrapped in the showers warmth. Jeff slid off his shoes, before yanking the shower curtain open. You jumped, your mouth opening to form a scream. Jeff's large hand covered your lips at the last millisecond, the hot water soaking his blood stained clothes. This was your first time seeing him, Jeff expected this. He expected you to be taken aback by his beauty and unique appearance.

"Relax doll, I took care of that dipshit that didn't make you cum," He said, breathless. The blood from his clothes began to go down the drain, your panicked eyes darting side to side as you took in his hideous appearance. Obsidian and soulless eyes, paper white skin, and a carved smile that was so terrifying it almost didn't look real. "I'm gonna move my hand now gorgeous, I won't scream if I were you. Wouldn't want you to end up like good ole Jim," Jeff advised. Jeff couldn't kill you, he most certainly wouldn't. But you needed a bit of training. Your beautiful mind just needed some time to adjust to him forcefully advancing to the next level in your relationship. He slowly slid his hand away, your back pressed against the cool marble tiles of the shower wall. You didn't know what to say, utterly speechless as the killer stood before you. "My name is Jeff. I'm your guardian angel, doll. I'm all yours. And you? You're all mine," He said, a sincere grin spreading across his lips. You were shell shocked, staring at him in fear as he stared down at you. He brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it as gently as he could muster. "Do you hear me doll? You belong to me. No more Jim. No other shrimp dick fuck. Me. Just me," Jeff panted. The terror that was running through your veins was thrilling to watch, your face involuntarily shifting into dozens of different emotions at once.

Your eyes flooded with tears, your face flushing red. "Don't cry, there there," Jeff cooed, wiping away one of your fallen tears with his thumb. When they continued coming Jeff brought himself closer to you, flattening out his tongue across your cheek and licking your tears off of your skin. You swallowed shallowly, your body trembling from fear. His saliva felt disgusting against your skin, his hair and clothes now soaked from the ongoing shower water. "I won't rush things, I know this may be overwhelming for you," Jeff said. He was trying to be understanding and considerate. You were delicate and needed to be treated as such. He leaned back, a couple of inches separating his face from yours as water trailed down his face. "But I love you and i'm going to show you just how much," Jeff purred. You stared as he lowered himself to his knees. Your core was still throbbing, your legs glued shut from the moment Jeff revealed himself. Yet you couldn't deny how badly you wanted release, Jim failing to satisfy you in any sort of measurement. You knew it would be bad karma, allowing a serial killer to get you off. But you feared what would happen if you denied his advances, your hormones leading to you allowing him to pry open your thighs.

Your cunt. Oh your cunt. Jeff was in heaven, just seeing your slick up close and personal. "You know i've spent many nights watching you, playing with your clit. Trying to get your tiny fingers up to reach that sweet spot," Jeff rambled. He used two fingers to open your folds, admiring you. "But seeing it up close. Fuck, you are perfect," Jeff praised. Without another word he brought his mouth to your aching folds, your hand flying over your mouth to conceal your unholy moans. Jeff peered up at you, delivering a sharp slap to your thigh. "I didn't wait all of this time for silence. Be loud for me. Don't worry doll, no one can hear you," He snickered, knowing the double meaning to his words. Unsurely you lowered your shaky hand, bracing yourself against the tiles as he reattached his mouth to your cunt. Jeff knew you were wet enough to handle his fingers, the pale killer shoving two of them inside of you. You groaned, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as he lapped at your folds. It was terrifying, having an unhinged killer buried between your thighs. But when was the last time you had felt something like this? A man willing to pleasure you? That put your needs first?

Sure, Jeff looked absolutely terrifying. But he killed for you. He killed some loser that didn't satisfy you and was now determined to make you cum on his face. Jeff felt your body begin to relax, one of your small hands finding his hair. He groaned into your folds as you grinded against his face. You were doing it. You were giving into him and he didn't even have to threaten you. He curled his fingers inside of you, relishing in the feeling of your gummy walls clinging onto him. You were so much tighter than he could've imagined. You tasted so much sweeter than he could have dreamed. After all of the late nights he spent watching. All of the endless hours he spent at the mansion, jerking his cock and dreaming of this very moment. You were giving into him, moaning his name. Your legs were struggling to stay upright, causing Jeff to manhandle you. He grabbed your legs, lifting them off of the ground and over his shoulders as if you weighed nothing. You were completely reliant on him to stay upright, your heart skipping a beat as all of your weight was on Jeff's face. Jeff didn't have any issue with this, his tongue assaulting your clit as you pulled at his hair.

You couldn't control your unholy noises, the fact a literal corpse was rotting in your house fading away as Jeff devoured you. He was determined to make you cum for him. He needed you to cum for him. He had fantasized of this moment for so long, he couldn't fail. You could feel the cord inside of you tightening, your body betraying any residue of fear that was left. "Jeff," You cried, whimpering as he abused your g spot with his lengthy fingers. The sound of you moaning his name made Jeff's cock grow harder, his own desires catching up with him. He gripped your thigh as you released, whining as you squirted on his face. You gasped, eyes wide and cheeks red with embarrassment. The shower water had now ran cold, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Jeff set you down, abruptly turning off the water. "I'd love to stay and fuck you senseless but, you do have a corpse in your bed," Jeff pointed out. He silently resented himself for killing him first instead of last. "Right," You panted, out of breath. Jeff stepped out of the shower, offering you his hand. "Here's what you're gonna do doll. You're gonna go back in there like nothing happened and call the police. You never saw me. You just went to take a shower and came back to him dead," Jeff instructed. You licked your dry lips, swallowing.

Could you mentally handle seeing a mangled dead body? "W-What if they suspect me?" You stuttered. Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. He pulled his knife out of his hoodie, showing it to you. "I'm taking the murder weapon with me," Jeff explained. You began to feel overwhelmed, tears flooding your waterline. Jeff shushed you lovingly, stroking your cheek again.

"I know it's a lot doll. But don't worry. It's me and you now. Me and you."

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 7

Previous parts may be found here.

Johnny finds a new purpose. CW: domestic violence.

-

((A video begins, shaky. It focuses on you, sitting at the dining table in your old apartment, your head in your hands. Tears have dripped onto the wood in front of you. As the camera approaches, you give a great sniff and lean back in your seat, tearful eyes meeting the lens. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice warbling. 

“Filming in case you get violent,” your boyfriend says. He turns the camera around to front facing, showing where he sports a swollen lower lip, tugging it outward to show where his teeth had cut into soft flesh. “See what you did to me? Now can we talk like two civil adults or are you going to hit me again?” 

“Get the camera out of my face,” you grit out through your teeth.

The camera comes closer. “You’re getting worked up. I can tell. Try taking some deep breaths.” 

“I said get it out of my face!” you shout. 

“There’s no talking to you when you’re like this. Why don’t you just hit me again? I know you want to,” he says. 

The camera comes closer, closer, close enough to tap teasingly against your temple. The video goes chaotic as the phone is knocked from his hands to the floor, clattering loudly against the tile. Socked feet come into the frame and the phone is picked up, turned back on you. Your head is in your hands again, but no more tears are falling on the table. 

He gives a quiet laugh—but that can be edited out.

The video ends.))

-

Johnny finds a new pastime: planning murder. 

He paces the walkable space in the apartment. The sound must drive the people below them crazy: tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump, but there are never any complaints. If there were, Simon would handle them with all the grace he had left (which is to say none). When Johnny refuses to leave the apartment, he dresses warm because Simon keeps the AC up: long pants he can pull up himself (buttoning jeans is on his List of things to relearn), soft long-sleeved shirts. They put a safety pin through the sleeve without any arm to fill it because Johnny hates for it to be flapping in the breeze when he really gets walking. Like he is now. 

“The camera’s a problem,” he says, accent rough. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Simon all morning. The two are still on the outs with each other—that is to say that Johnny is giving him the coldest shoulder, refusing his help for as many tasks as possible, and scowling darkly whenever he can’t. 

Johnny points to the corner of the room at Simon’s blank expression. “One camera, northeastern end of the hallway. There’s another in the elevator, but it only faces inward. I’m no’ worried about it.” 

Simon realizes belatedly what Johnny is getting at. 

“Drop it, Johnny.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Say less. Or nothing.” 

Johnny mutters something foul under his breath that Simon pretends not to have heard. He pretends that he is an empty vessel, no heart left to hurt. Before Johnny, he’d nearly believed that to be true. Now he just wishes it were. 

After a lengthy silence that Johnny spends staring at the wall which separates his apartment from yours, he asks: “Do yeh think the cameras work or they’re only there fer show?” 

Simon lets out all his breath through his nose and refuses to dignify that with a response. He wants to leave. He wants to disappear downstairs for a cigarette, for something to do with his hands and something to calm his jittering nerves. While he used to fear that Johnny would kill himself if left alone, Simon has a new fear: that Johnny will kill someone else if he is left alone. How fucking fucked up can things get before Simon’s vessel breaks? 

He opens a text to you, debates with himself and loses. Thirty minutes? he asks.

To Johnny, he’s ashamed to say that he says: “You’re due for your pills.” 

“Aye. Then give them to me.” 

He dishes out two of the little green ovals, the one that usually knock Johnny flat on his arse for three or four hours at a time. Simon isn’t sure if you’ll answer his text, but he plans to try to rest either way, even if he has to pin Johnny’s body to the bed with his own to do it with any sort of peace. 

To Simon’s relief, you message back just as Johnny’s eyes are drooping. His gait becomes affected by the drugs in his system, ataxic and stumbling, and when Simon goes and takes the crutch from him, tucks Johnny’s arm over his shoulder, the smaller man lets him. 

“Still angry at you,” mutters Johnny as Simon lays him down in bed and covers him with a blanket. He looks relaxed the way only Oxy can make him, limbs heavy with cotton. His eyes close almost right away, soft snores filling the air, but Simon sits on the side of the bed for several more minutes just watching him. Missing him—missing the old him. The one with two arms. Hating himself for feeling that way. 

“I’m begging you Johnny,” he whispers to the quiet snoring man, his mouth barely moving. “I’m begging you to leave this idea alone. Because if you’re committed to it, then I’m going to have to help you. Because I can’t let them take you somewhere ever again where I can’t follow you. Don’t make me a killer again. Please.”

There’s a quiet knock at the door. Simon thumbs at his eyes just to be safe and lets you in. 

You’re dressed from the diner, sweat on your forehead from your walk to the apartment. It’s the first time you two have seen each other since that terrible day that Johnny chose to sit next to your piece of shit boyfriend at the bar. Without the other man there, there is more life in your cautious eyes as you glance toward the bedroom in silent question. 

“Asleep,” Simon affirms. 

“You should go join him,” you whisper. “You look tired.” 

“I just might. If that’s alright.” 

You nod your head. Simon’s heart clenches with the strangest sensation for you, one he hasn’t felt for anyone save Johnny: fondness. If he thinks too long about why you’re here—just repaying a debt that doesn’t truly exist—he’ll talk himself out of the rest he needs. Let him talk himself out of it another day, after a little sleep. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice rougher than he would like it to be. 

He goes and curls up on the bed beside Johnny, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him, and falls asleep before his head hits the pillow. 

And when he wakes, nearly two hours have passed. You’re standing at the foot of their bed like a child coming to wake their parents in the night, and it nearly startles a sound out of him. Heart pounding, he sits up, sleep vanishing from his system. Your hands are anxious, wringing together in front of you as you rush out of the bedroom once you know he’s awake. He gives Johnny a cursory glance—still snoring—and follows you. 

“I let you sleep as long as I could, but I really need to leave now,” you whisper. 

“You should have woken me,” Simon says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you answer mindlessly, already working your apartment key from your pocket.

“Don’t lie to me,” says Simon, stern but soft. 

The two of you stare at each other. 

“Okay,” you say at length. “I won’t.” 

A lie if Simon’s ever heard one. 

-

That night when your boyfriend is asleep,  you go back to your drawer. For a moment, you can’t find the lighter. A part of you is convinced that it will be gone, that he will have found it and moved it and be biding his time to bring it up to you, and just when you are nearly convinced to give up, your hand encloses around the hard piece of metal and plastic and you pull it free. You carry it into the bathroom just to flick the pinwheel once, watching the fire burst into life. In the little orange flame, you’re convinced that you see Johnny and Simon, their figures curled around each other on their bed in the darkness where you had stood like an intruder waiting to make yourself known. Your heart aches with a throbbing you can’t understand. You let the flame die and smuggle the lighter back into the drawer. 

-

Johnny thinks about everything. 

The cameras: who he plans to talk to to find out if they’re real and if so where the footage is being held. The entry points: the front door which you rarely leave unlocked, and the balcony doors which he is already considering how to get to. The method: simplicity is best, something which looks like a terrible, untimely accident. A slip and a fall, a head injury beyond repair, a broken neck. Nothing traceable, no weapons. The alibi: Simon. 

Simon would vouch for him, Johnny knows. Even if they aren’t on good terms (and just thinking of the other man makes Johnny’s blood boil), Johnny still loves him, and Johnny knows that Simon loves him back. Simon would die for him. Nearly has, many times. Time doesn’t change something like that, except to make it stronger. 

Johnny barely notices it, but as the days pass, he grows stronger too. The walking comes a little easier. Sometimes he manages inside the apartment without the crutch, his knee a dormant throb as he grips onto the nearest surface when his balance goes wonky. 

With the good comes the bad. There’s a little less pain, yes, but also less pain pills in the bottle and even fewer doctors willing to prescribe them to him. They want to know what else Johnny is trying to lessen his pain; how’s therapy going, has he tried icing and elevating his knee, does he use Tylenol? None of them understand what it’s like to function at his level of pain every day. He counts the pills left in the bottle and dreads the day they run out. 

The nightmares get worse, too. He starts digging through the snow every night looking for his arm and uncovering bodies instead: the men who had died on the helicopter, sometimes Simon, sometimes you. He takes his Keppra every day and has no more seizures, but the medicine makes him feel restless in his own skin, like he’s in a cocoon, like he’s transforming into something. Something else. 

Maybe it’s just in his head. Maybe there’s just something in the air. 

Saturday is coming, after all. 

-

Thursday, Johnny’s anger wavers. He moves quieter now without the crutch, and it gives him the stealth to sneak up on Simon for the first time since his accident. He catches his lover with his head in his hands at the kitchen table, fingers buried in his short blond hair, the picture of exhausted defeat. Johnny must make some sound, his socks brushing against the linoleum, because then Simon’s head snaps up, face morphing into a neutral expression. But there’s no hiding the shadows beneath his eyes. There’s no hiding the way the frown lines on either side of his mouth look more at home than ever. 

The craving for him rises up in Johnny so keenly that it’s almost a pain. He doesn’t fight it, just hobbles quietly across the kitchen to stand at Simon’s side and let Simon lean his head against Johnny’s belly. Johnny runs his fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, thinking about how foreign it feels to be doing this with the wrong hand. With the Weak Hand. 

“Yer a stubborn bastard,” Johnny whispers. 

“Talking to yourself in the mirror again, Johnny?” 

Before Johnny can answer, there comes the sound of rising voices from the hallway. Your voice is easily recognizable—and angry. The two meet eyes briefly and then both are dashing (as well as Johnny can dash) to the front door, holding their breath to better hear the argument taking place just beyond their door. 

“—don’t like it, then you can go back to the shelter.” 

A door slams shut. Johnny flinches at the sound. 

Your hand pounds against the wood. “Let me in you fucking cunt!” you shout. “I pay for this shithole, you let me in or I swear to God—”

It’s rare for them to be so in sync these days, but as Johnny reaches for the latch lock, Simon reaches for the deadbolt. Their fingers brush against the knob as they twist the door open in perfect harmony, Ghost and Soap, both on your six. 

You freeze, fist raised to beat savagely against the door again. Your face is swollen from tears, cheeks wet, hair disheveled. Your knuckles are peeling. Wiping your face dry of tears, you can say nothing—no excuse, no explanation for your actions. You lamely point at the door. 

“He…he’s locked me out.” 

Simon silently nudges their door open wider just a hair, a silent offer. 

You take it. 

-

It’s the first time you’ve ever been inside their apartment when Johnny is awake. Johnny doesn’t have his arm crutch as he guides you to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair for you, and it’s strange to see him without it. 

“Would yeh make tea?” Johnny asks Simon. 

Simon gets to work without comment, filling the kettle and pulling cups from the cabinet. You remember the taste of tea from the last time Simon offered you some: bitter without any sugar, but so warm in your belly. Soothing. Your stomach growls. You press your fist against it and hope to silence any further noises. 

“Does that happen often?” Johnny asks, exuding an eerie calmness as he takes the seat across from you. “Him locking yeh out, I mean.”

You shrug a shoulder miserably. It happens more often than you’d admit even under duress. He knows you have limited options when you’re locked out of the apartment, with no friends to go to and no family nearby. There are shelters, but they are terrible places where terrible things happen to needful people. You won’t go there anymore. Not ever again. 

You know what he really wants: for you to beg to be allowed back in. And eventually you will. You always do. Just…not yet. 

“You can stay here for as long as you need to,” says Simon, setting a teacup in front of you. You had disappeared into your own head for a moment—for a handful of minutes—and you could feel their eyes on you. Judging you. 

Except when you meet the clear blue gaze of Johnny, there’s no hint of judgement in them. He looks like he’s trying to see through you to the chair at your back. When he catches you looking, he forces a smile, something soft and kind and maybe not truthful. 

Were you an idiot to be alone in this apartment with two strange men? You felt that they were good people, but your instincts were broken. They had misled you before.

“He makes me out to look like I’m crazy,” you whisper, speech pressured, hands wringing in your lap. “But I’m not crazy. I swear. I’m not—“

“We believe you,” Simon says simply. 

And you believe him. The relief is almost enough to make you cry fresh tears, but you blink them away, on the verge of a splitting headache already from all the tears you had cried. 

“How’s giving up smoking going?” you ask to change the subject. You burn your tongue on your tea again, but it feels good to fill up your belly like this, so you drain the cup. 

“Fantastically,” says Johnny with a grin. “Lost my lighter.” 

Your face burns with warmth. 

“Bad luck,” you offer. 

Johnny’s grin widens. He hums. 

Simon stays silent, one hand coming to rest against Johnny’s knee beneath the table, if the slope of his arm tells you anything. It makes you want to dash your mug to the floor, it hurts so much. You want something like it so bad. 

“I’m going to take a walk around the block I think,” you say, standing. A piece of you feels left behind in the chair, broken into bits. “Cool off a bit. Thank you for the tea.” 

“It’s just tea,” Simon reminds you, also standing. He goes to the table by the door and you hear the rustling of keys. When he returns, he has a silver one in the palm of his hand. “Take this. If you ever get locked out again—come over here. We’re probably home, but if we aren’t, just let yourself in.”

“I couldn’t,” you say, eyes wide. 

“You can.” He puts the key in your hand firmly. “You will. Understand?” 

You swallow the knot in your throat and nod your head, reluctant but grateful. 

You slip out the front door, the key burning a hole in your pocket. 

Once the door has shut behind you, Johnny stands from the table, chair legs screeching against the linoleum. He goes to Simon and wraps his arms around him. The two embrace for the first time in days. 

“Yer a good man, Simon Riley.” 

Simon sighs softly and lets his head rest against the crown of Johnny’s own. First a coward, then a bastard, now a good man. What a metamorphosis. 

He’s afraid of who he might turn out to be next. 

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

order 88 | headcanons | Heartslabyul | Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: ignoring them and giving silent treatment. Unintentionally a bit angsty, how could you ever ignore them

Requests open as of now if request now if you have any😎

➺ Ace Trappola

He is honestly really offended and keeps mocking you saying how you can’t keep it up forever. But once he realizes it’s been longer than a few minutes he gets actually agitated. He sits right next to you, staring expectantly. If you move away he gets closer. He gets really clingy and does everything to make you talk again. Texts you, bribes you, ignores you back, pokes you, tickles you, just everything.

“Look at the video I sent you.” He said while elbowing you, but you say nothing but just continue doing whatever on your phone. He grits his teeth and he suddenly squeezes the side of your waist. He laughs at your reaction and tries to poke at your stomach as you try to ignore him and defend yourself from his attacks. Best to give in at that point.

➺ Deuce Spade

He’s so sad, he doesn’t really notice it at first and just assumes you’re spaced out until you turn and walk away from him. He chases after you and, like Ace, follows you around and clings to you. He’s basically begging to know what he did wrong and asks a lot of questions and apologizes for everything. He still wants to be near you even if you’re mad at him.

“[Name], are you okay?” He leaned over to you but you didn’t even glance at him, just reading the book you had. “I’m sorry for whatever I did.” With no response back he looks at the book you’re reading and sighs. He grabs your free hand and squeezes it apologetically. Unconsciously you may squeeze his hand back.

➺ Cater Diamond

He’s unbearable, it feels like he’s being brutally punched in the gut whenever you ignore him so it’s agony. He needs your attention. HE NEEDS IT. You have to watch the videos he sends you and you have to respond to all of it. More importantly you need to talk to him. He will grab you and look at you in the eye and ask why. Though your silence and turning away is enough to make him sulk. He just keeps whining until you give in. Which he doesn’t know when but he’ll do it as long as he has to. He sets up a Timelapse video of you until you talk again. He uses any tactic to break your silence.

“[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]!” He chanted while pulling your arm, “You can’t ignore me forever! Whatever it is I’m super sorry and I won’t do it again but please talk to me…” You didn’t even glance his way but he grabbed your chin and forces eye contact. He pulls you in close and gives you a slow kiss, cut short because of you pulling away bashfully. He leans over and smirks, “C’mon.”

➺ Trey Clover

He tries to reflect on what he has done to deserve this but he is still really disheartened by being so blatantly ignored. He tries to talk to you for a bit, asking how your day was and if you need help with anything. He’ll probably fix your hair for you and clean up some, trying to get in your good graces again. If that doesn’t work then he does what he does best, which is baking. He bakes your favorite pastry.

“[Name], are you hungry?” He asks but no response, not even a glance. He sighs and sets it down in front of you, before picking up a piece and holding it close to your face. He can see you inhale it and you blink a few times while struggling to contain your urge to eat it. He smirks, “If you want it, use your words.”

➺ Riddle Rosehearts

You can see the heartbreak on his face when he greets you and you move right past him. Maybe you were spaced out? But once you do it again he’s troubled. He approaches you calm but in the inside he’s desperate trying not to crash out. He asks to talk it out and he wants to apologize properly. But once ignored again he’s freaking out. He grabs your hand and unexpectedly just hugs you.

“In order to understand what I did wrong, I must know what it was. It cannot be a true apology if you leave me in the dark.” He says earnestly though you walk away. You don’t get very far as he grabs your hand and with a pause he pulls you in. His arms wrap around you and he presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Yell at me, insult me, just say something.”

[lunar-system]

Edward Teach: The Star.

Adapted from the traditional Ride-Waite-Smith tarot, this version of the Star shows Ed kneeling down serenely by the spring of life, bare to the world, ready to heal after tumultuous events.

Stede as the Sun to follow, Izzy as the Moon can be found here.

Longer exploration of the card's symbolism under the cut.

***

The Star: Hope, openness, especially after a crisis. Renewal, healing, restoration.

Rachel Pollack writes: "This is the calm after a great change, whether it comes after a drastic planetary shift or a personal upheaval. There are still difficult times ahead, but the Star tells us to trust."

In the card Ed is depicted with a short, growing beard. Multiple personal upheavals and great changes have already happened, and he is settling into a new reality. Who is he when he is stripped from titles, uniforms and roles? In the space of the Star, he has enough trust to try and find out.

Pollack continues: "In Star, we find our inner strength and belief. The Star teaches us to accept whatever it is, to drop all our shields, to believe. The water poured out signifies healing, emotional and physical."

Ed as the Star is learning to shine his own light after witnessing Stede shine as the Sun. Trust and belief don't come easy, but as the Star he can be vulnerable enough to try again. The water flows from an infinite source, letting the emotions come and go.

Even though the Star opens up towards a bright future, Ed carries his history with him. His tattoos, pictures from other tarot cards, tell about his past:

Chest: Three of Swords, the infamous card of heartbreak. "Trust no one."

Left side thigh: the face of the Devil from the Devil card. One of the largest tattoos he has, projecting his self-image. "I'm the devil."

Right side thigh: Lobster from the Moon card, a beast that lurks under the surface, in the unconscious. "I'm the Kraken."

Right side: wolf from the Moon card. In my depiction of the Moon, Izzy stands for the wolf. Here the loyal wolf is cast to the side, left howling after the broken heart.

Belly: Ram from the throne of the Emperor, a symbol of masculine power. The placement on the lower belly suggest a trans reading of the character.

Chest, around the heart: birds from Ace of Cups, suggesting new beginnings even for a broken heart.

With his past carved to his skin, Ed is kneeling at the edge of land. One of his feet is planted firmly on the ground while the other graces the water. In Tarot, earth is often connected to the material, such as the body, and the conscious mind. Water is the element of emotions and the subconscious. At the edge of the water, Ed is in balance, grounded both in his body and in his emotions, the conscious and the subconscious. The water he pours rejuvenates them both.

TL;DR: After great personal upheavals, Ed as the Star is ready to heal and trust. He carries his past with him, but is ready to shine his own light and have faith in himself and for the future. He is vulnerable and at peace, and he is connected both to the ground and the water, nourishing them both with the water he pours.

***

Sources

Image source: Pamela Colman Smith, 1909, republished as Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany

Text source: Rachel Pollack, A Journey of 78 Steps, 2011, as cited in the booklet for instruction and guidance of Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany

[teaspoontarot]

Pick A Card: What Will The New Year Bring?

Pick a pile 1-4!

These messages are meant to sweeten your day and add a teaspoon of fun! You will always know yourself and your situation the best, therefore everything written here is just to give you a little nudge or to add a little sweetness!

🍵 Teaspoon

Pile 1 💫

Back in business! This past year has had its ups and downs especially regarding the home or close friends. Possibly involving rumor or gossip that has caused tension and pain. You’ve opened the windows and let the air blow through so anything that didn’t need to stay has found its way out.This year you’re focusing on the practical side of life. The turning of a new leaf 🍃.

You’ve been honest with yourself and others and now you’re moving on! You’re no longer waiting for someone to join you in your life and are now focused on just enjoying the ride as it comes. Good tidings and joy for this new year, a more relaxed (or enjoyable) roller-coaster than the one you just got off of. This year isn’t so much about slowing down but more so appreciating how far you’ve come.

There’s still a lot left to do but from where you’re standing the view already looks pretty great. You’re putting down new roots and making a name for yourself!

The new year brings stability and foundation. A new business venture or recognition. A rise in self-esteem and better communication. Joy to be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Two of Swords ⚔️

“Aim for a meeting of minds, for your mutual interest…working on trust and knowing when to trust a hunch”

Affirmations

“When I Think I’ve Surrendered, I Surrender More”

“I Speak Positively of Others”

“I Spread Joy”

Pile 2 ✨

Healing, healing, healing. Learning to forgive yourself and to love yourself with grace. There’s someone you’ve walked away from and the pain still stings. You’ve been stabbed in the side and still hoped that it was simply an accident.

You want to love and cherish so much that you feel a bit silly. Maybe you feel like you need to force yourself back to reality or that what you want simply isn’t for you. This is gentle reminding you that whatever happened does not mean the end. Very rarely is the world so black and white, and frequently things that are broken can be healed or find a new space in the world.

Do not be harsher on yourself than you would be to somebody else. You don’t have to always rise above it all, sometimes it’s nice to rest and find a place to sleep. Stormy waters do not make stronger swimmers, just more tired one. You may feel like you’ve been drowning for years and you’ve only been able to find stray driftwood to cling onto. You will find land, and it will feel strange but good. You’ve swam for so long it feels odd to rest. Forgive yourself for the rest you need. The help will fill it’s way to you.

Your new year brings much needed space, healing, and little discomfort but ultimately what is needed to find stability and foundation.

Tarot Card For The Year Ahead

Ace of Cups 💘

"The start of something wonderful: a taste of whatever is your Holy Grail”

Affirmations

“I Find Deeper Meaning, And Personal Growth Amid The Discomfort”

“I Am Forgiving”

Pile 3🎆

Dreams coming true! You’ve been focused and have faced obstacles you never thought you could get over. Now comes the easy part! Be excited and gracious as this new year rings in. The times when you were honest even though it scared you are pushing you forward.

Honesty does not have to be cruel, it can be sweet and show truth warmth for yourself and others. You’re finding the people who understand you the most and the goals you’ve carried on your back for so long you have finally found space for them.

You’ve climbed the mountain with a heavy burden and now it is time to enjoy the sunrise! Take a seat, have a drink of your choice and share a laugh.

The new year is all about joy, friends, family and an appreciation of what it took to get there. People have your back and you have theirs, true partnership! Love surrounds you in the new year! Enjoy it!

Tarot For The Year Ahead

Ten of Swords 🌠

“The battle has been won! Expect a hug release of pent-up energy in your heart and body”

Three of Swords 🌟

“You have the opportunity to establish the contract. Be fair in your arrangements”

Eight of Pentacles🌹

“A regular and reliable arrangement or resource: sometimes we just want someone who can comfortably deliver”

Affirmations

“My Energy Creates My Reality. What I Focus On Is What I Will Manifest”

“I Do Good”

Pile 4🌸

Everything that you're wanting is waiting for you but you have to let go of someone or something. This is the year of transformation or renewal. Spring is coming and it wants to invite you in with open arms. Let yourself bloom as you need to.

You are being asked to take a little more control in the matters that may be impacting you. There may be a hard conversation you will have to have with yourself about what you truly want. You have to be honest with yourself. There’s an open door waiting for you but you fear walking through it and worry about the consequences of such an action. A slight feeling of indecision but you already know the answer, it’s the moving forward that is scary.

There are people that will meet you on the other side, and there are others rooting for you to take that first step. Like baby bird trying to crack open it’s shell. The world is awaiting you, in all of it’s harsh beauty. Staying where you are will lead to discontent.

The new year bring you discomfort, but truth and the power to push forward.

Tarot For The Year Ahead

The Awakening🎊

“Accept a unique opportunity. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Make a liberating change in your worldview”

Seven of Pentacles✈️

“Don’t overthink a situation that simply needs to run its course”

The Hanged One🚞

“Be aware of an uncomfortable limbo. Being stuck in role”

Affirmations

“I Am The Dreamer of My Dream”

“I Consume Only My Fair Share”

“I Hold Purity In High Esteem”

“I Regard All Altars With Respect”

[robin-evry]

Maybe some Yuu that is like selkie from mythology?

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐄!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🦭🦭

Selkies are mythological creatures that can shapeshift between seal and human forms by removing or putting on their seal skin. They feature prominently in the oral traditions and mythology of various cultures, especially those of Celtic and Norse origin. Selkies are shapeshifters, transforming between seal and human form by shedding and replacing their skin. In their human form, selkie folk are always referred to as being incredibly attractive. They are graceful, kind natured and amorous, resulting in any humans coming across them falling desperately in love.

Poor selkies!yuu somebody has stolen their pelt and is unable to return back to the sea, since they are a natural born shape shifter nobody in nrc would suspect them of being a selkies.

The reason why they want anyone to find out about them being a selkies is due to if someone finds their shroud they will be forced into servitude and serve the ones that possess their shroud so they usually keep their identity hush hush.

Many students describe them as melancholic and wistful they are nice but wish to avoid any social events and prefer their solitude over people, the reason is due to selkies!yuu seeing people on the surface as temporary believing they will see them once and will never see them again once they return to the ocean.

But it doesn't mean that selkies!yuu is alone they have the first years which they consider to be their inner circle, you could always find them with the first years. Selkies!yuu is a very close off person towards people they don't know but once you get to know them they will open up.

During moments when they miss the sea, they will put on their headset and listen to ocean sound ASMR close their eyes, and imagine them being at home. There's a secluded lake near the ramshackle dorm and they would soak their feet in the water and just imagine being at the ocean while they're closing their eyes and listen towards the ASMR.

they instinctively gravitate toward lakes, pools, and even large fountains. Being near water soothes their homesickness.

Their body temperature is naturally cool, and they are extremely uncomfortable in dry heat. Summer in the Savanaclaw dorm or scarabia in the hot desert? Absolute torture.

They would take hydration breaks because if not they would pass out since the surface atmosphere is new a thing towards them, I mean they went to the surface multiple but not as long as this

Selkies are naturally adapted to the ocean, meaning their bodies retain moisture differently than humans. Since NRC is a land-based environment, Selkie!Yuu struggles with dehydration more than the average student.

Without regular contact with water, their skin starts feeling tight and uncomfortable, similar to how a fish out of water dries up.

If they go too long without hydrating, they may become sluggish, tired, or even lightheaded—like a seal stranded on land for too long. As well are used to cold, wet environments, meaning they struggle with heat and dry air.

They would bring a wet towel everywhere if the location they are at has limited resources of water.

Like real-life seals, they can bend in weird ways. Ace and Deuce once saw them twist to scratch their back with their foot and were horrified. As well as having the having of "grooming" they're friends similar towards real life seals, if someone close to them is messy they absentmindedly fix it. They usually do this when grim is messy, they would pick him up and fix the messes regardless of how much grim struggle to get out of their hands.

They sometimes forget to breathe when concentrating. In the water, holding their breath comes naturally, but on land, this habit makes them accidentally space out.

Many students view them as these cool and distant students that hate interacting with people but in reality they are just socially distant towards the ones they view as strangers. As well as them being physically attractive many people are drawn towards this cold version of yuu even tho they are nothing like that. Many students have fallen in love with them and tried to confess but it always ends up in rejection but it doesn't stop flowers or chocolates on their desk.

They hoard smooth, shiny objects. If they find polished stones, glass beads, or coins, they quietly pocket them. They once tried to take a mirror shard from Pomefiore, which caused them to bleed from the shard and a lecture from vil.

One time vil asked them what was their daily skin routine and saying how it is always flawless and shiny everyday and with a confused look selkies!yuu just answered with water and left.

Instead of sleeping in the bedroom they slept in the bathtub in ramshackle with water in it and ice cubes in it mimicking the cold water they usually get used to in the ocean.

Mostly the people they're looking out for and tried to distance themselves from is the octaniville trio specifically Azul who's very curious about their mythology and since he's a merfolk he heard some words about selkies.

Azul sees Selkie!Yuu as both an anomaly and an opportunity. He’s read about Selkies and their pelt-binding myths, and he desperately wants to get his hands on their seal skin.

Jade is morbidly fascinated with Selkie!Yuu. He’s heard legends about Selkies, but he wants to test if the myths are true. Selkie!Yuu has absolutely caught him staring at them with an eerie, intrigued expression.

Floyd thinks their seal-like traits are hilarious and loves messing with them. He pokes their cheeks, tries to flip them over, and randomly splashes water on them just to see their reaction. Absolutely tries to pick them up to see if they’re squishy like a real seal because as well he has never squeezed a real seal before If they’re in a bad mood, he’ll literally drag them to the Monstro Lounge’s tank and shove them in.

In school by far their mediocre by the standard of their grades is not bad or excellent just in the middle. As well possessing incredible talent in water magic.

One of the habits they grow in their time on the surface is their love games, absolutely adored those rpg games like animal crossing.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture: 🐇🩵What guides do you want to hear right now?🩵🐇

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵

🐇Masterlist🐇

🩵Pile 1: Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords and 4 of Pentacles.

It is essential that you start to trust yourself more. You have incredible potential that can take you far and help you achieve all those dreams you long for. However, sometimes you put obstacles in your way that prevent you from moving forward. It is time for you to realize that those limits are only mental and that you can overcome them.

Take a moment to clear your mind and focus on what you really want to achieve. If you put in the effort and work hard, you will see that you can achieve your goals. But it is also essential that you believe in your abilities and talents. Self-confidence is key to being able to show the world what you can really offer.

You have a personality that can shine and attract others, you just need to put aside those doubts that hold you back. Instead of getting stuck in your thoughts, start embracing your charisma and showing it without fear. Remember that you have everything you need to succeed, so go ahead, you can do it!

🩵Song:

🪻Pile 2: The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles and 2 of Wands.

There are a lot of positive things coming your way. All the hard work you've been doing is going to pay off, so don't get discouraged. It's normal to feel a little frustrated or exhausted right now, but it's important to keep an optimistic attitude, because what you've been wanting so much is just around the corner.

You will achieve great things and people around you will notice. However, it's essential that you stay grounded and don't forget your roots. Humbleness is key on this path, and remember that every step you take brings you closer to your goals. Your effort and dedication will not go unnoticed, and that's something you should celebrate. You have a voice that resonates strongly and has the potential to inspire many. I'm sure you'll soon see the impact you can have on others, and it may be sooner than you imagine. So keep going, keep faith in yourself and your abilities, because the best is yet to come and you deserve to enjoy every moment of this journey.

🪻Song:

🎀Pile 3: King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles and 3 of Cups.

It's time for you to take a break and celebrate everything you've achieved so far. It's essential that you find a space of calm in your life, where you can focus on the here and now. You may feel a little confused right now, as if you're not clear about where you're going, but in reality, that's part of the process. Life has its ups and downs, and sometimes, getting a little lost is what allows us to rediscover our path.

I feel that taking advantage of these moments of calm can be very. It is in these moments of reflection that you can connect with your true desires and passions, discovering what really motivates you and what you want to do throughout your life. So, instead of worrying about what is to come, allow yourself to enjoy this journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

Remember that not everything has to be resolved immediately. Sometimes, answers come when we least expect them, and situations tend to fall into place naturally. So relax and trust that everything will fall into. Enjoy every step you take, every small achievement, and don't worry so much about the future; the important thing is to live in the present and learn from every experience that comes your way.

🎀Song:

🩵🐇Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🐇🩵

[baewritez]

Just A Little Touch Up (0)

( Aaron Pierre X Plus Size OC )

Summary : The black and white life of a makeup artist is given color by A-List Client

Tags : Work Place Romance , Age Gap , Plus Size OC , BDSM , 18 +

 How does one find themselves bent over a kitchen counter with their hands tied behind their back? Better yet how does one find themselves pent under one of the most beautiful men to grace my eyes?! But that is it; that is what holds the answer. If you were to ask how I ended up in this position, I would say it was an exchange of looks, eyes full of desires, wants, needs so pure like honey that you could almost taste its sweetness. His eyes, like crashing waves held me captive fixed in place while a smirk started to spread on his face. I want to be the next thing spread across those juicy pump lips, as if thunder rolled out his lips so confidently, he said “So do you know how long we are in hair and makeup for?” his voice piercing the darkest part of my desires leaving with a newfound longing.  

Strumming over my words “t-t-t-two hours I think” warm air filled the trailer blowing past him as he walked up the stairs closing the door as he stepped in. His cologne of warm nutmeg and patchouli oil filled the air as I fought the urge to take a deep breath. “Thanks, my assistant and manager won’t be on set til 9:00am so it’s just me and you.” Looking up at him I felt like a dwarf, and he was a skyscraper as he moved closer towards me. “Um that is okay I think I can be finished with your makeup before then. You can sit here.” I gestured with my hand to the black makeup chair in front of me. He held out his large hand towards me. “I am Aaron” I looked at the veins near his knuckles; my mouth started to water as I tried to swallow my thirst down. The image of his big hands grabbing my curly puff and pulling flashed in my mind. SLAPPING my hand down I took a step a back and smiled. My heartbeat was like an alarm in my ear at just the idea of being close to him set it into a frenzy. “Would you like a water or coffee?”  His hand slowly went back down to his side as confusion blossomed on his face, but he gently brushed off the interaction and exchange. As he started to get settled into the seat his bulky frame filled the space around me as I instinctively grabbed the counter behind me. A look of concern washed over his face as his handsome facial features scrunched up. Holding up both of his hands the white shirt and black leather jacket raised up to show his chiseled deep v leading to what I could only think was euphoria “I don’t bite, Love” his husky voice breaking the awkward silence. But all I wanted was for him to leave bite marks and hickeys where no one could see and even in places where they could be seen. I wanted him to show the world that I was his; but that was a fantasy. “So, water, right?” My voice trembled, as I started to break my gaze from his charcoal jeans as it now covered the valley of ecstasy. Slowly tracing up past his white v neck t-shirt into his hazelnut brown and storm cloud eyes taking in his clear and blemish free skin. “Water is perfect, Love.” he replies. Aaron moves his arm to rest of the side arm of the chair and he places his hand on chin and rests it on his full amber beard. Taking a deep breathe I turned to face the counter and mirror; I bent down opening the mini fridge to grab a cool bottle of water as a shiver ran down my spine. Coming up from the fridge I am stopped in my tracks as I glance into the mirror only to be frozen in time as Aaron’s eyes created a fire in his wake. I am the match, and he was setting me ablaze his eyes moving from legs to my ass gliding up like a feather. My palms start to form sweat beads became clammy. It’s as if I was rubbed up against a balloon the hair on my neck and arm stands small shocks pulse throughout my body. The sound of our heavy breathing and the humming of the ac unit filled my ears. He was my Hades making me his Persephone as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth. My mouth is left open the idea of his thick finger filling that emptiness sends another shiver down my spine and my body goes relax. The thud of the bottle snaps both of us out of drunken stupor.

** A/N : I hope i didn't keep you waiting too long. If you like the preview let me know. Welcome to BaeWritez where desire can be fulfilled. - XOXO BAE

[thyandrawrites]

I was too ace to catch this the first time, but now that I'm on a rewatch, I am starting to understand why all the li lun / zhou yichen shippers have been raving on about the sexual tension between those two 😂 when they fight in ep 23 it's all physical and dirty, and it's got none of the grace and the swish and daintyness of typical xianxia fights. After the sword breaks, there's not even magic anymore. They're all up in each other space with fists and punches and bites. God, I don't think I've ever seen a fight in this genre where someone bites someone else and breaks skin. And it's ZYC of all people who does it, breaking character for a moment, fighting dirty, dishonorably, because this is personal. LL is targeting the child. The little brother figure whose only real mistake was having to grow up too fast in a world that is unfair and cruel, particularly so to kind people. And ZYC is furious about it. Furious that Li Lun can look at BJ and only see the perfect container for his demonic powers, and not a boy who is scared, a boy who keeps braving the dark despite his fear. And so gone is Yichen's restraint, his dignity, alongside the sword. There's no more time to play fair. Li Lun went too far.

And then there's Li Lun's side. It's not enough to incapacitate Yichen, or to metaphorically castrate him via the breaking of his sword. No. It wouldn't be enough to simply kill him, either. ZYC needs to see the real face of the man choking him. He needs to know it's even more personal for him. This is the human who had the audacity to point his sword at a great demon and promise to take his life. The life that should've been Li Lun's to reclaim take. ZYC dared put himself between an older blood feud, and yet still managed to gain ZYZ's loyalty despite it all. Like, damn. Put your whole fist inside an open wound, will you, Yichen?

So it's only around ZYC that LL loses all his composure, too. It's almost compulsive, his fixation on ZYC's throat, the way he always lunges for it, even when they eventually join sides and he gifts him his demonic powers. You went too far first, he says back with the sheer physicality of getting all up in Yichen's face to tighten his hands or his arms around his neck, when just moments before he had been strangling others with vines instead. When he always uses vines to strangle literally everyone else. But not this guy. LL needs to feel his pulse die out, and with it that cursed Bingyi bloodline that stole his man and his will to live, that promised to stop the most powerful demon from what LL believes to be the final purifying act, the ridding of all human lies and deceit, and with it the grief LL feels, too.

And I'm sitting here like. Oh. Oh. I get it now. It's not just the metaphorical sex they just had on screen for 10 minutes here (😂). it's also about the way both characters are shaped into who they are now by their grief, by their losses, that makes them cling until they're raw and bleeding all over the last things they hold dear. That... I kinda dig, ngl

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Part 13 (Yan Sabo x Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

All the other chapters

The angst has arrived. Thank you to @tryingandfailingtowrite and @gouraminnow for their help <3 <3 <3

Also I'm sorry I didn't respond to anyone's comments last time I promise I read them and I will respond this time.

Ace POV

The wind whipped the hair out of Ace’s face as he leaned against the railing of the ship when he felt a familiar sensation behind him. Once upon a time, he could feel sensation across his entire back but now there was a dead zone in the middle where his nerve endings never reconnected. After the second Mera Mera, he didn’t feel hot or cold due to the fire within him, but even now he couldn’t feel anything where Akainu had injured him. Not a scratch or a cut, not a kiss or a hug, or the feeling of another person’s skin against his own.

Like he wasn’t feeling now as Marco stood behind him. Ace had spent months trying to remember the exact feeling of Marco’s cool skin against his own, how his lover’s chest always felt like a balm to his soul. Ace’s mind raced with everything he’d done to Sunny, all the ways in which he’d wrecked her life, and didn’t want to confront his thoughts about Marco. So when he felt Marco’s long graceful arms around him and grip the railing on either side of his body, Ace ducked under one of his former lover’s arms and did his best to create space as he moved over to the side. Ace crossed his arms and turned to face him as he leaned his back against the railing, away from Marco’s achingly familiar touch. He couldn’t look his former brother in the eye, so he stared hard at his scuffed boots.

“Long time no see yoi,” Marco’s tone was pleasant while he continued to face the sea. The warm salty air ruffled his familiar haircut, though Ace could see a few more gray hairs littered in his blonde locks. They’d had an awkward exchange already when Marco had first landed on the ship. But Marco had been all business then, his voice sharp as he demanded details about Sunny and her condition. There was no time for long conversations between them among the chaos of the battle’s aftermath. Now there was a large stretch of time until Marco left again and Ace was alone once more.

“Yeah,” Ace replied with his eyes still on his boots, unsure where to start. There was so much unsaid between them that Ace didn’t know where to begin. He decided to go with what was easiest, “how’s Sunny?”

“She’s better, I healed what I could. I wish you’d called me immediately, maybe we could have changed the outcome yoi,” Marco replied in his usual calm tone. Ace’s eyebrows scrunched downwards as he scowled.

“What do you mean, ‘healed what you could? Is she better or not?” Ace’s eyes finally met Marco’s with a harsh squint to them as he asked Marco. The doctor sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Her body is healed - her hands, her jaw, her ribs - all fine. She has some lingering effects from her traumatic brain injury, but those should heal in time. It’s just… I couldn’t heal her eye. Maybe Law can or - she might even be able to herself. But she lost vision in her left eye, I can’t bring it back,” Marco said softly. Ace processed Marco’s words for a few minutes, while his grip on his arms grew tighter and tighter. He closed his eyes and forced the tears back. Ace hated cry babies after all, including himself.

“Ace, no one blames you for anything -”

“You just said that I could’ve changed the outcome if I called sooner. So Sunny must blame me. They all do, I know they do.” Ace said, unsure exactly who he was thinking about at that moment.

“And how would you know that yoi? You haven't talked to her at all. You didn’t tell any of us that you were alive - we had to see it on national TV. You haven’t talked to anyone since -”

“Since I killed our Captain -”

“No, Ace. That’s not - we missed you, it’s not your fault, -” Marco started to say softly before Ace’s voice overpowered his.

“IT IS! IT IS MY FAULT!” Ace exploded and flung his arms out to the side as he stood upright. His finger poked into Marco’s chest as he continued to direct his tirade at his former crewmate. “Just admit it, Marco! Admit it’s my fault she’s blind, it was my fault she was hurt, it’s my fault any of this happened! I was the one who pushed her to make the fruit, I was the one who couldn’t fight Akainu AGAIN! I’m the reason Pops -” Ace knew he was caught in a full rant now but it felt good to finally let it all out. His hands shook as bottled up self loathing spewed from him like toxic sludge. 

“Ace-”

“Is dead, the reason the crew is gone, the ship is destroyed, the reason that fuckin’ Blackbeard -”

“Ace stop-” Marco let Ace’s words wash over him as he did his best to interrupt at the same time. Ace barreled along, he had no desire to hear the sympathy he didn’t deserve.

“Is a fuckin’ Emperor now, the reason Luffy almost died, and -”

Marco finally stopped Ace’s speech - his hands soft on Ace’s jaw as he grabbed and pulled him close to kiss him on the lips. Ace closed his eyes and allowed himself to be brought deeper into the kiss, Marco’s lips gentle on his own. Marco’s other hand wound around Ace to grip the back of his neck as Marco gently massaged the tight muscles. Ace nearly moaned from the sudden contact - he’d dreamed about Marco, Yamato, and Deuce for years but hadn’t had the courage to contact any of them.  After he broke away, Marco rested his chin on Ace’s head as he pulled Ace into a hug.

“Stop for a moment yoi. Take a breath,” Marco commanded softly while he ran his long fingers over Ace’s scar. Ace saw teal flames lighting up behind him through the corner of his eye.

“Don’t heal it,” Ace mumbled into Marco’s broad chest as his arms wrapped around his lover’s body.

“Hm? Why not? The scar tissue -” 

“Don’t deserve it,” Ace muttered and rested his forehead on Marco’s clavicle. In the two years apart Marco had somehow become even more attractive than Ace remembered, his chest and back broader and more well muscled. Marco clicked his tongue but stopped his healing flames as Ace had requested.

“Still self loathing then?” Marco asked while he continued to run his hands up and down Ace’s back. Ace desperately wished he could feel most of it but stayed silent while he relished the feel of Marco’s hands on him. They stayed like that for a few minutes in silence, each lost in their thoughts. Marco pushed Ace away from his body and grabbed him by the shoulders before he gave him a light shake.

“No one blames you for anything that happened yoi. None of what happened with us - Pops, the crew, Blackbeard - none of it was your fault -”

“It was, you told me not to go after him and I didn’t listen -”

“And that was your choice. We could have stopped you, all of us could have kept you from going but we gave you the freedom to choose, just like Sunny had. That doesn’t make Blackbeard’s actions your fault -”

“And I fucking failed again with Sunny! You saw what happened out there, I completely froze up. Made completely of fire and I fucking froze. She nearly died,” Ace said with a sniffle while a tear tracked down his freckled cheek. Marco tutted again and wiped the tear off Ace’s cheek.

“You need to go talk to her yoi. She’s been waiting to see you, you can’t hide anymore. I’ll be here after you talk to deal with things between us. But you need to go to Sunny -”

“I know, I know. It’s just - what do I even say? ‘Sorry for fucking up so bad you almost died’? ‘Sorry I didn’t tell you that letting me into your life would end up in misery just like everyone else?’ Like, I don’t -” Ace ran his fingers through his long shaggy bangs as he bit his lip, his thoughts locked on the last time he saw you laid out on your infirmary bed, bandaged and bruised.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. You at least owe her a face to face conversation now that she’s awake and can talk,” Marco chided lightly while he rubbed Ace’s arms. Ace looked up at Marco’s concerned face and inhaled a sharp breath. 

“You’re right, I’ll go later -” Ace messed with the strings of his hat when he responded in a dodgy tone. Marco’s easy going eyes narrowed in a way Ace hadn’t seen since the Moby, when Ace wasn’t taking Marco’s medical advice.

“You’ll go now, ” Marco voice was firm as he turned Ace around and walked with him toward the door to the ship’s decks arm in arm.

“Guess I’m going now,” Ace mumbled, grateful for the push from Marco even if he literally dragged his feet.

Your POV

“Sunny, I - I don’t - I never wanted - things weren’t supposed to be this way,” Sabo stuttered at your statement while he wiped his eyes from the tears that continued to fall. “Sunny, I - you  - you can be mad at me, you know. I don’t - You don’t have to pretend this is all ok. I never wanted you to look like me -”

“I’m not mad at you for my injuries, Sabo,” you said and wiped your eyes and nose on the sleeve of your pajamas. “It’s not your fault this happened, I made my choices,” you said in a soft voice. Sabo reached out and touched your now healed hand as his gaze formed a familiar intense stare. 

“I won’t fail you again, Sunny. I can’t - I won’t, ” Sabo’s eyes boring into yours as he swore a firm promise of protection. It was all too familiar to when he swore he’d take care of you, that you’d never have to look after yourself again. You didn’t answer but turned your head to the left so you could look out the window again. You knew your magnification worked; you’d tried it out when Marco healed your jaw. The problem was everything else wasn’t quite the same, simple tasks were now a struggle. It took you significantly longer to process what people told you, to read anything, or to organize your thoughts into coherent ideas. Even turning your head had taken longer than you anticipated.

“Ok,” you said softly. You didn’t want to console Sabo, you were still mad at him for putting you in seastone. On top of that, you were the one who had gotten injured, not him. Sabo and Ace had killed thousands of Marines without remorse or injury from what you’d gathered from the nurses. 

“Is Marco coming back? I have some questions about my brain injury,” you asked Sabo, who was still gripped your hand in his. 

“He’s not leaving for a few days so there’s plenty of time to -” Sabo’s response faded as the door creaked open to reveal Ace on the other side with Marco behind him. Ace’s face was already pinched in a frown as he fidgeted with the hat in his hand. Marco gave Ace a small push inside the room and motioned to Sabo with a finger.

“This is a conversation that needs to happen, Sabo. Come on, Sunny will be fine for a few minutes yoi,” Marco said with an authoritative tone. Sabo bristled slightly and his grip on you only lessened when he took in Ace’s red rimmed eyes.

“I’ll be on the deck if you need me,” Sabo said with a final press of his hand to yours. You nodded as Sabo and Marco left quickly, and shut the door softly behind them. You and Ace stared at each other for a few long moments, the silence only broken by the sound of the birds and waves crashing against the ship. You had a difficult time starting conversations since your TBI, you knew clinically that it could happen but it was a completely new experience when it happened to you. You did have something to say to Ace but what is was lingered beyond your grasp. Maybe he’d start the conversation kindly and you’d be able to suss it out. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” Ace said and kicked his boot against the floor.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked in a clipped tone. You remembered now, you were annoyed and angry at Ace for ignoring you for so long.

“Not seeing you fast enough, I guess,” Ace spun his cowboy hat on a finger as he answered. It was hard for you to concentrate while he spun it, so you shook your head and looked away.

“Oh, so it’s me who has the problem? Is that it?” you hissed while you crossed your arms, “I’ve been waiting for so long to see for myself that you’re ok but if you’re going to be petulant and pissy I’d rather not see you at all.”

 He flinched at the venom in your voice and stood straighter. You were already emotionally spent from the healing and had waited long enough to see Ace. You’d thought about this conversation many times and it involved hugs and fond wishes, not raised voices and arguments.

“Why would you want to see me? I ruined your entire life,” Ace hissed back, his gaze firmly locked with yours. The vitriol in his voice took you aback but you weren’t going to let him push you around. You knew he didn’t really mean it, that it was just his insecurity that shone through in moments of vulnerability. You’d heard it a few times on the island when you did nice things for him or gave him compliments about himself. Ace always reacted with a shove, quick to push away anyone who expressed love.

“You didn’t ruin my life, I made my own choices -” you said, your voice still scratchy after a week of silence. You were so tired of Sabo and Ace taking your decisions out of your hands and making it seem like you were forced into your current situation. Sure, it wasn’t sunshine and flowers but you’d lose an eye over a friend again and again.

“Well, I don’t think it was in your plans to blow up the fleet admiral and the rest of your life!” Ace exclaimed and threw his arms to the side before he crossed them. He planted his hat on his head to obscure his eyes from you.

“I WANTED TO!” you yelled back while you threw your arms in the air like he had. “I could have gotten back to the Marines! They already had…uh…” you snapped your finger to think of the word you wanted, a now frustratingly common occurrence, “caught me, recaptured me, did you know that? I coulda left BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO SEE YOU DIE!”  

Your voice grew more hoarse at the rare rise in your volume and rubbed your throat to assuage the burn. You wanted to pull your hair out, you were so frustrated - why couldn’t Sabo and Ace believe you that it was your choice?

“Oh really? Maybe you'll change your mind when you look at this,” Ace said before he handed you a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. When you unfolded it, you saw a picture of your younger self during basic duty captioned with the words WANTED: ALIVE ONLY. Your eye flicked to the bottom to check your bounty; you didn’t need to be able to read quickly to understand what you was in front of you. Your hands shook and the paper wafted to your lap as Ace gave you a sympathetic look.

One billion beri. 

You had a one billion beri bounty.

Your head was pounding as you whipped your legs out from under the blankets to put your feet on the floor for the first time in weeks. You couldn’t lay in bed right now, you needed to feel something tangible against your feet. You pushed yourself to stand and ignored Ace’s gentle grip when his hands landed on your arms.

“Hey wait Sunflower, I don’t think you should -” Ace’s voice reached you but didn’t register as your mind fell into a tailspin. You breathed in quick, shallow breaths but it felt like you couldn’t suck in enough air as you thought about the bounty now hanging over your head. Where would you go? Where could you go? How were you going to - with a bounty that high you’d be picked off by the first bounty hunter that saw you and sent back to the Marines and sent to Impel Down for the rest of your days with pirates and guards and underwater. And why did they only want you alive? Did they want you to - they probably wanted you to make more bombs or bad fruits or something and -

The room began to spin as you felt like you were losing consciousness in slow bursts. Someone’s voice had risen to a yell but you didn’t know who it was or what they were saying. Ace’s warm hands gripped your torso as he tried to push you back into the bed. You fought against the arms that held you in an attempt to keep you from moving out of the bed. Your eye caught the bright blue of your Marine neckerchief on the Wanted poster and you stared into the eyes of a younger version of yourself as you slumped forward.

The arms let go momentarily as you gripped the hair on either side of your head and gave it a harsh pull. Someone was now behind you on the bed; their arms and legs wrapped around you in a bear hug. Instead of ripping your hair out, your arms were now crushed against your own body as the person cradled you from behind. You tried to thrash against the hold they had you in but your muscles were weak and they were stronger than you. After you wore yourself out, you sat on the bed while your chest heaved with hard pants. They were warm, you realized, warmer than a normal person would be. The heat had you thinking about laying in the sand on a balmy summer’s day.

“Hey. Shhh. Hey, Sunny. Hey, breathe with me,” someone said and their stubbly cheek rested on your back. You tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t work, the air caught in your throat as you repeatedly thought of the billion beris on your head. Your mind whirled with the questions of where would you go and what would you do. Your hands shook with the certainty that someone was going to hurt you again; you almost died the first time, you wouldn’t survive another. This was it, your death sentence was spelled out with six large black letters WANTED and a billion beris behind it.

“C’mon Sunflower, c’mon, shhh. It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Ace. Shhhh, you’re alright, you’re alright. You’re safe, you have me and Sabo and Marco here, shhhh, nothing’s gonna happen to ya,” the voice continued to repeat words and phrases at you until you started to calm down. Your frantic mind clung to the even tone of the man as he held you tight.

“Shhh, it’s ok, nothing’s gonna happen, you’re safe, no one’s gonna get you,” Ace kept on as he hugged you from behind while he rocked both of you gently. You took in a deep breath and released it shakily like the breath got stuck in your throat.

“There you are, again, Sunflower, come on, breathe for me,” Ace encouraged you, his chest still pressed to your back as you felt his hot breath over your upper arm where the thin blue hospital gown wasn’t covering it. “Sunny, I missed you so so much, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I just thought you hated me, that you would never want to see me again. You don’t need to worry, I’ll help you, me ‘n Sabo -”

You had started to regain control of your breathing when the door was kicked in with a bang. You screamed and ducked to cover your head as the door burst open, the door pushed open with one hand by Sabo and Marco hot on his heels. Sabo had his pipe in his hands ready for action while Marco wound the stethoscope back around his neck. 

“What’s going on? Did Sunny get hurt? I heard yelling,” Sabo demanded and scanned the room for any interlopers. 

“Goddammit, don’t do that,” Ace hissed while hepulled your hands off your head. “She just calmed down,” Ace put his chin on your shoulder but didn’t unwrap himself from around you. 

“The nurses noted a huge spike in her vitals and called for me. Did anything happen?” Marco asked calmly as he came to sit next to you on the bed with the stethoscope in his hands. 

“Well, the thing is, she kinda freaked out. I’ve seen her freaking before but this was different,” Ace’s grip on your arms loosened as he explained. 

“What triggered the panic?” Marco asked with the buds of the stethoscope now in his ears. He brought the bell towards your wrist and you allowed him to take your pulse, your arm slow to extend from where it had been cramped against your chest.

“I showed her the bounty poster,” he grumbled from behind you and your torso seemed like a human shield from his brothers.

“YOU IDIOT!” Sabo and Marco yelled together. The loud noise made you jolt, especially since Marco was so near. 

“I specifically told you not to show her!” Sabo threw his hands up emphatically while he barked at his brother.

“We’ve had so many conversations about time and place, yoi. Why would you show it to her now?” Marco chided and a vein began to throb in his forehead. Ace didn’t answer either one of them but you felt his body grow hotter against your back. 

“Sunny, I’m sorry you saw that. I was going to show you in a few days,” Sabo pleaded while he reached for you. You shrunk back but Ace’s body behind your own didn’t allow you much room to recede from Sabo’s touch. This was all too much for you right now but you couldn’t figure out how to let everyone know. Marco glanced at your face for a moment before he placed his stethoscope around his neck and stood up. 

“Everyone out,” he ordered with a sharp look at Ace, “including you yoi. She needs to rest right now and the excitement isn’t helping. Out, now.” 

You were sorry for the loss of his heated body as he climbed out of the bed but you wanted to unscramble your mind. Everything seemed to move too quickly and the confusion in your mind grew as you struggled to gather the scattered pieces of your thoughts. It didn’t help that the steady throb in your eye grew increasingly painful the more you tried to think. Sabo nodded and held the door open for Ace as they walked side by side to leave. You heard Sabo immediately begin to argue with Ace and wanted to interject but they were too far away to hear you.

“I’m having a hard time with uhm….thinking?” you said, your answer more a question than a statement. There were so many actions that you remembered being easier but between all the medications you had been on and the concussion, you felt like you were having to relearn to think.

“Common side effects of a TBI. You might also not be able to find words easily, organize your thoughts well, follow conversations, that kind of thing. It should go away in a few weeks to months -”

“ Months?!” you exclaimed and tears came unbidden to your eyes. Your head swam both from the previous conversations and with the news as you tried to prevent yourself from bursting into tears in front of The Phoenix. You hadn’t been a crier before but you had been so up and down that it was hard to maintain an even mood.

You weren’t seized by panic like before when you found out about your new bounty. This was different, Marco had tacitly told you that you amounted to nothing. All your life, you told yourself that it was OK that you weren’t the prettiest or the most popular or the best at anything because you were smart. And you used that one part of you as the one shining light that you clung to in your darkest moments. No matter what happened, you’d be able to reason and think your way out of any problem. You were smart , that’s what everyone thought of you. Not interesting, or fun, or someone worth being a friend, but smart. And now that was gone too. Marco’s large hand settled on your shoulder in comfort but you shrugged it off.

“Stop. It’s  - I’m ok. I just need some time alone,” you said before you closed your eyes and massaged your neck.

“Of course,” Marco flashed you a pitying look as he responded.

 “Do you want me to get Sabo?” he asked as an afterthought, already halfway out the door.  “We’re all here for you if you need us,” Marco said before he shut the door behind himself as he left. 

“No,” you whispered, Marco even being in the room already forgotten as your thoughts drifted. You sat in your bed, unable to think or react to anything. You stared out the window and tried to think of something - anything - that would change the outcomes you were facing. Your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn’t sort them like you had in the past, which just proved Marco right. The window was to your left so you laid back against the pillow and stared at the afternoon sky outside.

Eventually your thoughts quieted to silence in your mind as you thought about nothing. You almost felt like you were under the influence of medication again as you stared blankly out the window. Maybe you’d be able to think of a plan in a few months but for now you felt adrift, a life raft lost on the sea. You sat silently and a hand rose to absently rub your bad eye when it began to itch.

By the time that Sabo came back to your room, the sun had already set. You hadn’t moved from your position, not even to drink water. Your head was still turned on your pillow while you continued to look out the small window as the stars lit up the sky.

“Feeling any better?” Sabo asked quietly and took a seat next to you on the bed.

“No,” you said in a small voice, “but I have a question.”

“Of course,” Sabo said before he scooted closer to you. He looked so earnest and eager, like a dog who found its master after an extended absence. Once upon a time you would have cared, maybe even been flattered, but that kind of thing didn’t really matter anymore.

“Will the RA still keep me on now that I can’t research?” You slid your gaze from the sky outside when you asked him this, your stare firm when you looked at him. It was a question that had continually cropped up in your mind since your conversation with Marco. Sabo tilted his head to the side, his own bad eye revealed under his hair.

“You don’t have to complete any research, that’s never been -”

“So I don’t have to complete Project Seraphim? What’s the point of keeping me then?” you asked, hearkening back to the conversation you’d overheard long ago on the island with Ace.

“Wh - no, Sunny, it’s not like that. You can stay with us for as long as you want to -”

“That’s not what I heard before,” you said in a monotone and returned your good eye to the window, “I can’t read, I can’t think, I can’t research…I don’t know what to do. I can’t think of a…a…um…” 

 Your voice trailed off as you tried to think of the word you wanted and think through your idea. It was just beyond your mental reach, and you felt the urge to scream in frustration begin to build in you. Sabo waited patiently for you to finish your thought without interrupting you.

“Plan. I can’t think of a plan. If I can’t be of service, no one will want me and I’ll have to go somewhere else. And my b-bounty is so high, I don’t know what to do,” you said while an errant tear escaped your eye. 

“Oh, Sunny -” Sabo started to coo at you and this only drove your frustration higher. You didn’t want his pity or his fake concern, you wanted your damn mind to work .

“Stop. Stop talking to me like that,” you said and rubbed your bad eye again.

“Stop what? And don’t rub your eye, I know it’s hard but don’t,” Sabo said lightly and he reached across you to remove your hand from your face. He curled his fingers around yours as he began to talk to you. 

“It probably doesn’t itch, it’s phantom pain. What did you want me to stop?” Sabo’s voice was soft as he spoke to you, his fingers still entangled with yours while his thumb rubbed gently across your wrist.

“Talking to me like you care about me beyond what I can do for you. I’ve known the whole time that you wanted me to work for the RA, don't try to deny it. I heard you on the snail the first night we were on the island,” you accused before you tried weakly to pull your hand back. Sabo didn’t let go but frowned at your words.

“I did say those things, I won’t deny it. But it's not like that, it was so Dragon would see the benefit -” you cut Sabo off with another question that came to you suddenly. You wanted to get it out before it flitted out of your memory like an errant butterfly. 

“How did anyone find out what happened? I would have thought the Marines would have covered everything up,” you asked. 

“The whole fight was being live-snailed and broadcast to RA HQ. Dragon released the footage worldwide so people could see the Navy attacking and get a morale boost from Akainu-” Sabo said as you slumped back, not wanting to hear again about what happened between you and the Fleet Commander. 

“So there's really nowhere I can go.” You pinched the left side of your neck between your thumb and fingers as you spoke. It had been sore for days but nothing seemed to help the near constant ache.

“You’re staying with me and the RA,” Sabo said definitively, “You’ll be protected, we’re not going to let the Marines get you again. You don’t have to work if you don’t want to -”

“It doesn’t really matter if I want to, Sabo. I can’t right now. I can’t read, I can’t understand anything, I can’t even think right. You don’t have to worry about me overworking myself, I can’t work at all,” you said as a hysterical laugh bubbled up from your throat. The bark of your laughter filled the room as Sabo’s frown deepened. 

“I’m completely useless! A billion beri bounty and utterly useless - for anything!” you said and your laughter morphed into deep sobs. You doubled over while you covered your face with your hands to hide yourself from Sabo. You were so tired of crying but you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking down, your face tilted down to avoid looking at him as tears hit the thin cotton blanket on your lap. 

“Sunny, you’re not what you can produce. If you never worked again, I’d like you just the same,” Sabo bent his head to catch your eye and tightened his grip on your hand. You tried to rub your bad eye with your free hand but Sabo caught that one too, and he held them gently but firmly within his own.

“Sunny, look at me,” Sabo said softly and he refused to stop his attempt to catch your gaze. You looked up at him with tears obscuring the vision you still had left.

“I’ve always liked you. Always. Ever since the first time I saw you at that Marine base. I like everything about you - your curiosity, your kindness, your resilience, your cleverness -”

“But all that’s gone -” you cried out and tried to jerk back your hands, but Sabo’s grip was unrelenting, and he easily kept your wrists in his hands.

“It isn’t, it isn’t gone. You’re still the same person you were before, the same sweet, wonderful, kind, Sunny. Everything else doesn’t matter -”

“It matters to me ! I’m not the same person I was before - before the fight, before the island, before you, ” you began to cry again while you responded. Sabo considered you for a few moments before he released your hands back to you and setting them in your lap.

“You know I have a bad eye and some scarring, did Ace tell you how I was injured?” he asked and scooted farther from you. You shook your head as you sniffled.

“I was 11 years old and had stolen a sailing ship intending to become a pirate. Unfortunately, I was attacked by World Nobles who destroyed the ship and me along with it. I was dead in the water before Dragon saved my life and brought me to the RA where I was rehabilitated. He saved my life but I didn’t get everything back - I lost my eye, my memories, and my hand.” Confusion at Sabo’s statement made you pick your head up to look at him closer.

“Your hand? B-but, it works just fine -” Sabo gave you a small smile and continued his story while he took his glove off his left hand. 

“It works well, yes. But you’ve never seen me without long sleeves and gloves, not once. This is why,” Sabo said as he peeled the glove away from his fingers by the tips. Underneath was a fully articulated metal hand covered in small cables that ran up to Sabo’s wrist. Sabo opened it and closed it under your watch as you unabashedly stared. 

“But it feels like -” 

“The glove has extra insulation that mimics the feeling of flesh when I wear it. The hand is realistic enough that only a few people know my secret. Lindbergh made it for me, you’ll meet him at the RA base,” Sabo said as you turned his hand over for inspection. 

Sabo POV  

Sabo watched you look over his robotic hand with a small smile on his face. You were completely absorbed in the mechanics of his hand as your prior anxiety was forgotten in the face of the new curiosity in front of you. Sabo knew you were having a hard time adjusting but seeing you poking the cables and moving his fingers carefully to watch the hydraulics work showed him that you were the same person you’d always been, he just had to get you to see it too. 

“Very high quality piece. Interesting mechanics, too. Can you roll up your sleeve so I can see where it attaches to your arm? Ooh, really complex hydraulics…one of my side hobbies is robotics, well, it used to be. But I was reading all about cybernetics and cyborgs, really very interesting…can you feel anything in the hand? Any sensation? Have you read about what’s coming out of Water 7? From Cyborg Franky? He’s really the smartest person in the world, I think. Well, in his field. Either way, he’s truly a visionary. He’s changed his body to run on cola, maybe your hand could too - but what would be the point?” you rambled on while you moved Sabo’s index finger to full extension. He hummed happily and you looked up as if you finally remembered the hand was attached to Sabo. You looked sheepish to have gotten off track during his reveal but Sabo couldn’t have been happier.

“Sorry, I just got excited,” you said and put his hand down slowly. You leaned your head to the side and pulled down, trying to elongate and stretch your tight neck muscles. After that you unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn and forced Sabo to have one of his own.

“Don’t be sorry, I love this side of you. You still have your curiosity and thirst for knowledge. Everything else - reading, processing, eye strain - I’ll help you with. I happen to have experience in losing an eye,” Sabo said with a smile. You gave a small smile, no more than moving the corners of your mouth up but it was a start. 

“Starting with this, hold on,” Sabo said and stood from the bed. He didn’t put his glove back on even though the sensation of being without it made him feel as if he was completely naked.

“W-wait, Sabo, what are you -” Sabo cut you off as he easily moved the bed - with you in it - across the floor to the opposite wall, the window now to your right.

“Now you don’t have to turn your neck to look out the window. You can look at the moon as much as you’d like. I bet your neck’s sore from looking in one direction all day, yeah?” 

“Y-yeah,” you rubbed your neck as you responded absently. 

“See, I’ll help you get to where you want to be. One step at a time, together.” Sabo said with a firm nod. You returned the gesture but yawned again while you covered your mouth with your hand.

“I think it’s bedtime. We can start relearning things tomorrow, OK?” Sabo picked up his glove and flashed you a small smile while he spoke. Your eyelids began to droop even before you confirmed Sabo’s words with a nod.

“Can you go get Ace?” you asked as you laid back on your pillows. Sabo’s eyebrow quirked up.

“He’s ah, busy with Marco right now. Do you need something from him? I can get it for you,” Sabo said. He’d seen Marco pinning Ace to the side of the ship with a taloned foot while his hands held Ace’s over his head. Ace wasn’t fighting physically but he was crying and loudly whispering as Marco spoke to him in hushed tones. When Sabo passed by, Marco had turned an arm into a feathered wing and shielded Ace from his brother’s sight.

“Oh, uhm, no. Nothing really, it's fine,” your face turned a slight shade of red as you stammered.

“Sunny, please, let me help you. I want to, you have to say what you need,” Sabo urged. More blood rushed to your face as you picked at fuzz on your blanket.

“It's just that, um, well, when we were on the island together, he would - well, we would sleep in the um, same bed. And it was really relaxing for me, with the um, you know, warmth. I would always fall asleep so quickly,” you said nervously. “But he's busy, so, but um yeah, it's not a big deal.” 

“Sorry, Love. Maybe I’ll see him later and I can ask then,” he replied and began to put on his glove again. Sabo wished it was him you called for but it wasn't the case. After he finished with the glove, Sabo grabbed his pipe and started for the door. His left hand was on the handle when he heard you speak again. 

“I mean, maybe you could, if you wanted to, sleep in the bed? Nothing like, just with clothes on- well, we’ve done it before, a lot of times, I just didn’t think - I wasn’t sure if -” you hesitated as Sabo’s hand paused on the doorknob. 

Sabo had worked for the Revolutionary Army for a long time and had been trained to never give up information, even under duress or torture. He was thankful for all the hours spent with Dragon and Hack now as he turned to you as casually as he could muster. This was the first time in his memory that you’d actually sought out his touch rather than just accepting what Sabo had pushed on you. He didn’t want to blow his chances by being too forward or aggressive.

“I don’t mind. If it would help you sleep better, that is,” Sabo said as he tried  to will himself to be less awkward. “Are you sure you want me to join you?” 

You bit your lip and nodded while you moved yourself closer to the wall. Sabo removed his hat once more and climbed into the bed deliberately slowly to give you ample time to refuse or change your mind. He was still fully clothed as he laid down next to you on his side. You curled up into him without hesitation as you sought the heat that he provided you. 

“Warmer,” you said sleepily and tucked your face against his chest.

“Demanding,” Sabo replied lightly with a chuckle as he heated his temperature slightly higher. You hummed but didn’t reply as the two of you drifted into silence, your cheek pressed against his chest. Sabo felt his body finally relax as he realized he was also tired, it had been an emotional day for everyone. He had nearly fallen asleep when he felt you tug at his glove.

“ ‘M still mad about the seastone,” you murmured. Sabo grunted.

“That’s fair, I deserve it. We’ll talk about it and I’ll apologize in the morning,” he replied. He did want to talk about what happened but now wasn’t the time as you finally relaxed and drifted off into sleep.

“C’n I feel your real hand?” you asked, half asleep. He didn’t have to ask to know you meant his robotic hand.

“Mm,” Sabo agreed, removing his glove. Laying his hand down on the bed, your fingertips roved over the metal as if trying to commit it to memory.

“S’cool,” you mumbled before you laced your fingers around his. 

The last memory Sabo had of that night was falling asleep with your hand holding his own. 

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