#all of them dancing in a crowd in practically no disguises

[paintedkinzy-88]

I don't do this often but this meme IMMEDIATELY made me think of you, lol!

Way to summarize the entirety of ROTTMNT in one image.

I mean Donnie has an entire TANK. That they use regularly. Splinter himself took it on a joyride. And Raph’s mystics ain’t exactly subtle. As just a couple examples.

[thesunshinebunny]

The Red Lotus - Part 1

Part 2

Pairings: Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You live as normal a life as someone who sees demons on the daily can. You see their marks. You smell their hunger. You know exactly when they're trying to hide. You live quietly, killing what needs killing, keeping your peace. So when a shiny new K-pop boy group literally bursts into your street, reeking of demon energy and bad cologne, your first instinct is to walk away. Too bad they don't take hints. Too bad you're not in the mood. Too bad they picked the wrong girl to haunt.

Warnings: slow-burn (like painfully slow), crack fic, a very long one fic, action, fighting, supernatural beings, blood, angst, eventually smut and adults content (mdni)

It was a morning like any other. I went out to do my thing—no rush, no real motivation—phone in one hand, my thoughts looping like a remix of anxiety and lack of caffeine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary... until I heard the music. Pop. Bright. As sugary as cotton candy melted in unicorn juice. I only looked up because the air shifted. Like someone had just turned on a blender full of euphoria.

A group of guys was dancing and singing in the middle of the street. No DJ. No stage. Just a ridiculous number of people drooling around them. They called themselves the Saja Boys. Five of them. Each one styled like a walking billboard for “we’re sexy and we know it.” Their moves were so synchronized you’d think they were born dancing. The song? “Soda Pop.” The kind of tune that makes you cringe if you’ve got more than two brain cells. And me—with my two and a half—I stood there, watching them from the curb. Out of curiosity. Out of boredom. Nothing else.

-“This looks like it came out of a gummy bear factory,” I muttered, leaning against a rusted streetlamp.

It’s not that I can’t recognize talent. They danced like the fate of the world depended on each step triggering a chain reaction to save the universe. But there was something… off. A flicker in the air. Shadows that didn’t match the light source. A faint violet shimmer around their movements, like threads weaving into patterns not of this world. Took me a few seconds longer than usual to realize what I was seeing. These weren’t light tricks. No fancy effects hiding in their sleeves. Just patterns—violet, subtle, unsettling.

Demons. And major ones, by the look of it.

But I didn’t say anything. Why would I? Not my problem. Never is, never was, unless they’re close enough for me to stab and send them back to their realm.

One of them saw me. The one with obsidian hair and big-leader energy. Jinu, if the squealing girls on my left were to be believed. The same group that practically fainted when the pink-haired one sent them a flying heart. He locked eyes with me like he expected me to melt on the spot. I just raised an eyebrow.

I smiled. One of those empty, purely decorative smiles. Then turned on my heel. I didn’t have time for demons disguised as idols. Let them have their moment. Their music sucked anyway. I heard them wrap up, announcing some TV performance later that night. The crowd noise spiked as they disappeared… or so I felt.

I took my usual shortcut home. A long alley, lined with graffiti-covered walls and trash bags doubling as accidental urban decor. I turned the corner—and there they were. All five. Standing. Waiting? Their backs to me. Walking slowly, silently. No chatting, no celebrating their “big” debut. I walked faster, eyes glued to my phone. Ten steps. Just ten, and I’d be free of this idol hellscape.

But luck was clearly on vacation. As I passed them, one of them bumped my shoulder, making me stumble. The youngest-looking one, mint-green hair, licking a lollipop like life bored him to death... which, honestly, probably true. He turned around. They all did. Staring.

That kind of stare that scans, waits. For an apology? A scream? Maybe tears?

I gathered myself as quickly as I could. “Sorry,” I muttered, still glued to my phone, head down.

I heard footsteps behind me. One, then another. Then more. Way too close for comfort. Curiosity got the better of me—I turned.

Same black-haired guy. The leader that I assumed so well. Tension crackled in the air like a snapped wire.

-“Seemed like you weren’t too impressed by our debut,” he said. His voice matched his singing—intense.

-“Not a fan of candy-coated K-pop,” I replied, flatly.

His four backup demons gathered around him. Stylish, weird, and painfully unoriginal. Two with pink hair? Try a different bottle next time. The heart-headed one tilted his head like he was trying to read my mind.

-“Maybe give us the benefit of the doubt?” Jinu again.

The tall one with the strong arms chuckled and rested one over Jinu’s shoulder. He scanned me. I scanned back.

That shirt did him no favors color-wise, but those pecs? Definitely eye candy. I’m not blind. I can admit when a body looks damn good. Still didn’t mean I was going to fall for them. Clearly, each member had a persona—some soft, some bold. If that was their strategy, well... good for them.

If I had to say, the two quieter ones—the one with hair in his face and the mint guy—drew more attention by being dead silent. Watching me like they were searching under my skin.

-“I’m hard to impress,” I said, without energy.

And I kept walking. No running. No trembling. But my pulse was tapping out a beat I didn’t sign up for. I planned to leave this boy band in the dust. No interest in seeing them again—not even on TV.

Of course, luck’s never fully on my side. Sometimes it likes to play cute little tricks.

Night fell. I didn’t feel like grocery shopping, but my pantry was basically air. Living alone could be a drag, but I didn’t complain. I love solitude… when demons aren’t around to ruin it. But hey, nothing a knife to the face can’t fix.

The walk to the store wasn’t long, just annoying. If I wanted to be under my blankets by midnight, I had to take the grossest shortcut in town: the alley behind the men’s bathhouse. It smelled like old moisture and expired soap. Every time I passed, I quickened my steps, careful not to draw male attention—inside or out. Being a twenty-year-old girl walking the streets of Seoul at night? Not the safest.

Store trip was short but efficient. Got everything I needed—plus a couple of ice creams from the same freezer stocked with Soda Pop. I choked back a gag. That song still gave me chills. Awful.

I left the store as fast as possible, phone in hand, head down. Distracted but alert. Always alert. If I sped up, I’d be home in five minutes. One more pass through the bathhouse alley. This time, the stench was worse—though only ten minutes had passed. My body tensed before my brain caught up. Something had changed. Whatever it was, it was coming from the bathhouse.

The back door burst open like it had been kicked. Five figures sprinted out. Impeccable. Not wet. Not naked. Clothes intact. Quick steps. Heavy breathing. They were running. From what? No idea. But they clearly weren’t expecting me.

-“Holy fuck” I jumped at the bang.

Because of course. Of course I’d run into the idol boy band again. Twice in one day. From a bathhouse, no less. Scandalous. Didn’t they have a live appearance right now? Not that I had a TV to confirm. Wouldn’t have bothered anyway. Probably a fan chased them in—regardless of gender.

Jinu stopped cold. The others followed.

-“You again?” said the buff one.

-“Don’t worry, I’m not thrilled to see you either.” I gripped my grocery bags and kept walking. And then—time slowed.

I saw him. The old man, seated on a stone bench inside, scrubbing his back. And behind him, like a shadow made of water, a lesser demon began to emerge.

It hovered behind him, opening its mouth, sucking the old man’s soul like it was a buffet. My palms went ice cold. I was close, but not close enough. If I lunged, the guys would notice. I’d raise suspicion—inside the bathhouse and in the alley. I couldn’t save the old man. I just had to watch.

I wanted to leave. Pretend I saw nothing. But the Saja Boys noticed. They saw the tension in my body. The shift in my gaze.

-“Something wrong?” Jinu asked, stepping closer.

-“Just not a great look for a young lady to be surrounded by five guys at night, don’t you think?”

I gripped my bags tighter and turned to leave. But they didn’t let me. Jinu was in front of me in a blink—probably teleportation. The others boxed me in from behind.

Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

-“You gonna let me go, or are we about to break into a musical number? ‘Cause if it’s the latter, I don’t know your choreography.”

-“What an… interesting creature,” said the lavender-haired one, calm and collected.

-“Oh, so you do speak,” I muttered. Keeping my composure was hard, but I wasn’t here to fight. I didn’t have the gear for it.

Jinu stepped closer, shrinking the gap, suffocating the air between us. This was getting on my nerves. A lot.

Remember what I said? I don’t mess with demons unless they get in my personal space? Well, they were begging for a lesson.

No hesitation. No wasted second. I flicked my wrist, dropped the grocery bags, and the collapsible baton snapped out of my sleeve with a metallic click—sweetest sound in the world. I slammed it into Jinu’s balls with surgical precision.

He collapsed, choking out a sound between agony and outrage. It was art. Pure art.

-“If I were you, I’d rethink the whole ‘intimidating women in alleys’ thing.

I crouched down, picked up my phone—miraculously intact—and the bags. One of them was soaked, reeking of peach. A shattered soju bottle. The one I was looking forward to all week. Dead. Among the eggs and instant ramyeon. Perfect.

I turned to give them a final warning—but I didn’t speak.

Because I felt it.

Behind me. That slimy, hot, rotten presence. The water demon. Now focused on me. I didn’t need to look. I haven’t needed to for a decade. I moved fast. Drew the dagger from my boot and, without turning, flung it backward—right into its face.

It hit the ground with a wet thud. Violet and pink particles burst into the air. Just me and the Saja Boys again, in that disgusting alley.

Note to self: never walk this way again.

I picked up the last fallen bag. All contents safe. The five demons—half beautiful, half boring to my eyes—stared like I’d grown a second head.

-“Watch yourself” I muttered, and walked off like I hadn’t just murdered a cross-dimensional entity.

[darkmatilda]

𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer finds you in a place that might be attacked and tries to save your life—only for you to end up saving his instead

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, reader is at a club, mention of consumed alcohol in the past (but not drinking in the fic) spencer gets (lightly) beaten up, reader kills (shoots) the unsub

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.8k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

There were many things Spencer Reid hated about clubs.

He had stepped into one just five minutes ago, and he had already checked off most of them. The purple and pink lights played a never-ending game of tag, intertwining, their intensity constantly shifting—one moment revealing the silhouettes around him in sharp clarity, the next melting them into a single, writhing, deafening mass. Completely cut off from their surroundings—bodies so absorbed in swaying to the pounding beat that they paid no mind to brushing against random strangers or accidentally shoving them aside.

He lost sight of Prentiss almost immediately. They had agreed to split up, sure but he would have preferred to at least know which direction she had gone. There were too many brunettes around to pick her out, and every time he tried to look around, he lost what little control he had over his path, colliding with someone's shoulder.

Eventually, he slowed his pace, nearly coming to a stop—one motionless pillar among the swaying crowd, set apart not just by his stillness but by the reason he was there in the first place.

Work felt like too trivial an excuse. Preventing a tragedy…maybe a bit too grandiose.

Another case, another unsub. This time, a more local one. Someone sneaking into clubs, specifically tampering with fog machines and replacing their contents with toxic gas. One moment, the crowd lost in dance. The next, gasping for breath and collapsing in convulsions on the floor, a pop song cruelly lingering above them as they took their last breath.

Well, not in every case—many had survived the attack. Thanks to their testimonies, they had built a profile of the unsub before they even identified him.

And once they had the profile, they were able to predict when and where he would strike next. Not exactly where. There were several clubs on his radar, forcing them to split into pairs. Time was against them, and they couldn’t afford the delay that bringing in a larger team would cause.

His gaze found the DJ booth. Deep down, he knew Prentiss was doing the exact same thing, wherever she was. Right next to it stod the fog machine—meant to enhance the sensory experience, he supposed, though he didn’t entirely understand the appeal.

In any case, they couldn’t just arrest the guy. Mostly because this guy wasn’t him. They had determined that the unsub had to sneak in to execute his plan, likely disguised as a maintenance worker—someone unremarkable, someone no one would question. Equipment needed servicing from time to time, after all.

That left them with one option. Observation. Waiting for the right moment. Literally waiting to catch the unsub in the act. 

He knew he had to get even closer.

That wasn’t exactly easy, given that it was a Saturday night and the club was packed wall to wall. Spencer took a deep breath—air thick with heat of the bodies—and fixed his gaze straight ahead, hoping that focusing would at least minimize how often he bumped into people.

The tactic itself, in theory, sounded like something that had a chance of success. He couldn’t control the movements of the people around him, but he could control his own—could force his awkward body to maximize its barely existing coordination, slipping through the crowd with as much grace as he could manage.

In practice, however, he froze mid-step the moment his eyes locked onto a single, specific point just ahead of him.

At first, he thought he was imagining things. The play of lights was deceptive—he could have easily been mistaken.

The thing was, when it came to her mistaking her for someone else was nearly impossible. And Spencer had long suspected that it wasn’t just about physical attractiveness.

At that moment, she was surrounded by women—women who had dressed in whatever made them feel their most confident for a night out, women who, as a result, looked undeniably striking. And yet, none of them had caught his eye as quickly or as completely as she had.

Maybe it was simply because he knew her, and the human brain was wired to pick out familiar shapes. Or maybe it was that obscure thought that had once crept into his mind—that there was something almost siren-like about her. In the way her hips moved so fluidly, in how people instinctively seemed to make space for her, in the way every gaze that landed on her lingered just a second too long, caught in quiet admiration.

And that was the ironic part.

Despite all the glances she effortlessly drew—glances she had long since grown used to, had learned to take in stride—she still somehow managed to feel his.

Spencer, still frozen in place, registered the exact moment her eyebrows lifted—first in surprise, then in amusement. He also registered how, almost without hesitation, she started moving toward him.

She didn’t need to elbow her way through the crowd. She never did.

Watching her fluid, measured steps slowly closing the space between them, he finally grasped one crucial fact.

She was in the same club as him. At the same time as him.

But he wasn’t there for fun.

He was there to prevent a mass poisoning. And it wasn’t until she stood right in front of him, head tilted slightly, lips curved in that playful way of hers, that it hit him. 

She had no idea what was potentially about to happen.

None of the other people there did. 

"Spencer Reid," she said slowly, deliberately, as if tasting his name for the first time.

He heard her perfectly despite the pounding music, but apparently, she decided he hadn’t—because she took another step closer. A step that cut through most of the already minimal space between them.

He had to tilt his head down just to keep his gaze on her.

"In a club. Alone. The world must be ending, because I’m not nearly drunk enough to be imagining you."

He felt his body take in a breath without his permission. His gaze flicked above her, back to the DJ booth. The same DJ as before—he recognized him by the neon pink shirt. No one had taken his place. No one was near him. Yet.

Their eyes met again.

His throat simply refused to work. He had no idea what to say, and not because someone had just bumped into his back, pushing him even closer. He had to steady himself with a light grip on her shoulder to avoid crashing into her entirely.

He glanced at his own hand on her skin, bathed in the pink and violet glow of the club lights. It looked almost forein, as if it didn’t belong to him.

Spencer didn’t know what to say—not because she was there, but because she was there. In this place, in this moment, where so many things could go wrong.

Sure, they worked together. But she wasn’t here on a case. Tonight, she was just another unaware, innocent civilian—one of the many people it was his job to protect.

Protect, but not warn. A warning would cause chaos among everyone present, sending them rushing toward the exit, ruining their chance to catch the unsub just when they knew the location he planned to strike.

Her hand waved in front of his eyes, making sure he was still present. Spencer swallowed, forcing himself to say something—anything—while he figured out what he really should say.

"Do you often imagine me when you're drunk?" he asked.

The very first thing that came to his mind. Surprisingly, it didn’t turn out to be such a terrible choice.

The woman pursed her lips in a thin line, as if genuinely considering it.

“It’s happened a few times,” she admitted without a hint of embarrassment, in the most casual tone possible. She let out a quiet chuckle, as if recalling something. “Last time, I was flirting with some guy, also in a club. I was convinced it was you, but the longer we talked, the more something felt off. Some element. I just didn’t know if it was the flirting or the fact that you were in a club at all…” 

He let her speak while his eyes once again scanned the surroundings. He reminded himself that they weren’t alone. The people around them—people just as unaware of the potential danger as she was.

Of course, he assumed they’d manage to prevent it. But he wouldn’t be himself if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind what if…

Then he’d be guilty of not telling her. Of not simply ordering her to leave immediately. She probably wouldn’t have listened—knowing her—but he would’ve found a way to make her.

He chalked it up to a natural instinct. They didn’t have to be particularly close for him to not want anything to happen to her. They didn’t even have to particularly like or tolerate each other.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about all the other oblivious people in the club. But it was definitely harder to distance himself from her—when it was her face he saw nearly every day.

"Are you here alone?" Spencer asked suddenly

He must have interrupted her—her lips remained slightly parted.

"With a few friends," she stated, pausing as she studied him analytically. "Why? Asking if you can join us?"

He sighed at her response. A few friends. If he told her, she’d probably want to warn them too—which wasn’t surprising or wrong—but there was a chance that those friends also had friends here. And in the blink of an eye, it could trigger mass panic. Chaos.

He shut his eyes for a moment, hesitating.

"Spencer, what is wrong with you?" Her voice reached his ears, and he felt her hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

When he looked at her again, her expression had completely changed.

Full of realization.

"Wait, I think I know what you’re doing here."

He had hesitated long enough for her to figure it out on her own. But at least that forced him to make a decision faster.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in toward her—something that, logically, made no sense. Their conversation was already happening within such a small space, close enough that he could see the way the light above them shifted in her eyes. There was no need to lower his voice conspiratorially. And yet, for some reason, he did.

He leaned in near her shoulder, speaking close to her ear.

Her hand remained on his shoulder, waiting for whatever he was about to say.

"Go home," he said simply.

She didn’t move, though he felt her fingers press slightly deeper against his skin, as when he confirmed her own suspicions.

"Take your friends if you have to. Just leave, okay?"

He waited for a moment, certain he could feel her taking a deep breath, steadying herself, keeping calm. When he straightened just enough to meet her gaze again, she was composed.

She didn’t know what exactly was happening—she had every right to be panicked—but she wasn’t.

"Is it really that serious?" she asked.

He glanced toward the DJ booth, scanning the situation. He considered her question. Honestly? No. Not that serious. They didn’t even have confirmation that their unsub was targeting this particular club.And yet, he gave her a small, confirming nod.At worst, she’d lose one night of fun with her friends for nothing. Better that than losing her life.

She answered him with a nod of her own.

Spencer watched the movement, exhaling slowly, but as his gaze dropped once more to the space just beyond her shoulder, he noticed something strange.

He straightened fully, and her hand slipped from his shoulder, falling away.

She turned, following his line of sight, but she didn’t know what to look for. A moment later, she turned back to him, confused. But he knew. And he had just seen it.

Reid stepped past her.

Oddly enough, pushing through the crowd no longer felt like an issue. He looked over his shoulder—almost reflexively—meeting her eyes for one brief second. Go home tried to tell her again, with no words. 

Some might find it strange how quickly he recognized the unsub in the crowd. While some would call it a hunch or instinct, he would simply call it experience. So many solved cases, so many profiles written, so many criminals interrogated. He had simply managed to pick him out. 

What he hadn’t anticipated was that the unsub would recognize him.

Not personally, but he would sense that something was off the moment their eyes met by chance.

He might have been aware that the FBI was on his tail.

Either way, as soon as he realized Spencer was heading toward him, he abruptly changed direction, picking up his pace. He was no longer moving toward the smoke machine—now, he was weaving blindly through the crowd.

Still, Reid couldn’t just let him slip away, of course.

He stayed on his heels, hoping that Prentiss was somewhere out there and had also recognized the man as their unsub. That she had even noticed him at all. He didn’t know whether the unsub was armed, but either way, he couldn’t reach for his weapon while still surrounded by people. His breathing quickened from the pace he was keeping, but he couldn’t afford to slow down—not if he wanted to keep him in sight.

Where was the unsub going?

He found out soon enough when he saw him slip through the emergency exit—somehow left unguarded—into a dark, empty alleyway.

Spencer realized he had made a huge mistake after just the first two steps. He had looked around too slowly, focusing too much on the left side when something hit him in the face from the right. The force was too much for a bare fist. He suspected brass knuckles. Mostly because it knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling onto the hard pavement. As he shielded his head from the fall, the weapon slipped from his hand. Instinctively, he reached for it, a reflex, considering how badly the world was spinning in front of his eyes.

Before he could even brush it with his fingers, the hard sole of a boot landed on his toes, not breaking them, but definitely pulling more than just a pained hiss from his lips. The sound of dragging—the weapon kicked far out of his reach. He cursed under his breath, and possibly out loud. Not only because he had been so easily disarmed and neutralized, but because the realization hit him quickly. When a criminal doesn't bend down to retrieve a dropped weapon, it usually means one simple thing. They have their own.

And well, for the first time, he didn’t feel satisfied by being right. When he managed to prop himself up on his elbow with controlled movement, still feeling the pulse in his temples, the first thing he saw was the gleam of a barrel aimed directly at him. A long moment where their eyes locked. Spencer was about to say something. A lot of words pressed at his lips—there had to be a way to stop him from pulling the trigger. He knew the entire profile, and he could manipulate him. 

But before any sound could escape his mouth, the shot rang out.

The stab in his chest was so intense that he thought—he was absolutely certain—the shot had hit him. His heart—there was no point in even pressing his hand to it to check. It would have been covered in blood in an instant, and he wouldn’t even have time to look at it before he collapsed back to the ground, this time dead. But that didn’t happen, although something did fall.

The tall figure right in front of him collapsed to the ground, revealing who had been a few steps behind him.

The hand gripping the weapon so confidently that for a moment, he thought it was Prentiss.

That would have been the most logical option. After all, they had been sent there together, and it was her he expected to see. Not someone who had come to spend the evening with friends. Someone who, despite his warning, had followed him for some reason and, at the right moment, had lifted the weapon that had been knocked away by the unsub Spencer’s weapon and aimed it.

Someone who now stood still, staring down at his fallen form, with one hand still extended in front of them until it fell stiffly to their side.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment that felt almost unreal.

Finally, Spencer forced himself to look away from her and, feeling like he was in some strange dream, clumsily managed to get to his feet. When he succeeded in standing upright, her figure appeared right next to him, her hand gripping his shoulder, as if ensuring he wouldn’t fall again. For the first time in a while, he breathed— the taste of the air after almost being shot was strange. He needed two more breaths like that before he could even begin to process what had just happened. Her face—not directly in front of him, but slightly to the side, so that he had to turn his head to look at her. 

It might have sounded illogical, but he had the feeling that fear was only just beginning to appear on her face. When she shot the unsub right in the back of his head, her expression had shown nothing at all.

"I..." Spencer began, stopping as the pain pressed against his skull again. It was dull, but when he placed his hand on it, he didn't see any blood. He took that as a good sign. A sign that started to slowly clear things up. The unsub was dead. Okay, that happened. Sometimes, capturing him alive just wasn’t possible.

But he hadn’t been killed by him, as he perhaps should have been. He had been killed by her. How had she even ended up there?

"I told you to go home," he said sharply.

For a moment, she was silent, staring at him in disbelief, as if she couldn’t understand the meaning of his words. Meanwhile, Spencer felt a fleeting surge of anger. She had followed him, which was absolutely irresponsible. If the unsub hadn’t uncovered the weapon, or if he had decided to pick it up, she would have been completely defenseless because, as far as he knew, she hadn’t been carrying her own. And then she would have found herself in a dark alley with, quite simply, a murderer.

Her lips parted and closed again, as if trying to speak, but instead, she snorted. At least, she tried to. It wasn’t her usual, mocking snort, although she attempted it. It came out weak, barely audible, and then Spencer lowered his gaze, noticing that the hand holding his gun was trembling. She tightened her grip on the handle, trying to stop it.

“And some thank you?” she asked. “For, hmm, let’s see, saving your life?”

He felt a bit stupid, to be honest. Especially when he noticed her taking a deep breath and turning her head toward the body lying on the ground.

“I didn’t aim for his head,” she admitted, more to herself than to him.

He looked at her profile with hesitation. He hadn’t thought about it before, but this was probably the first time she had ever killed someone. Most of her work in the FBI had been in the confines of the lab, and she was rarely in situations that would require something like this.

Yet, she had still done it. Shoot, at the right moment, without hesitation.

Seeing that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the dead man, he gently reached up and touched her cheek, turning her face back toward him. She flinched at the gesture, her eyes momentarily widening, almost vulnerable, before she clenched them shut, tension rising in her temples.

“But it’s a good thing I did,” she said, opening her eyes again. She shook off the emotions that had briefly settled there, adopting her usual expression. Most people probably wouldn’t even notice anything had changed. “Otherwise, he probably would’ve killed you. So…”

She didn’t finish, shrugging stiffly.

Spencer felt an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, rising up to his throat. A sudden wave of guilt, knowing that it was his fault and his lack of field skills that had led to this situation. He had to swallow it down before he could speak again.

“He killed a lot of people,” he told her. She deserved to know that. “And he was planning to do the same today. Maybe even to you. Your friends, and…”

He didn’t know what else he wanted to add, or if his words were in any way helpful. He hoped they were. They both lingered in silence, and Spencer realized that, in fact, he hadn’t even thanked her for what she did. But, well, that was life, not a favor to be repaid with a simple thank you. He knew, though, that he would be able to return to the daily grind of things as if nothing had happened, without offering anything in return. His gaze fell once more on her hand, still gripping the gun. He gently took it from her.

“I shot him,” he suddenly said.

The woman gave him a confused look.

“If anyone asks,” he added, aware that she still didn’t quite understand what he meant. In fact, he was having trouble putting it into words himself. “I mean, technically, you shouldn’t even know about all of this. No one knows you were here, so...you can just...forget about it, if you want.”

It wasn’t that the killing would get her into trouble. Considering she saved his life, she wouldn’t face any real consequences. However, her name would have to be mentioned in the report. Not a big deal, but Spencer just had the feeling that the less it attached to her, the better.

She was silent for a long time, and Spencer thought maybe she didn’t like the idea. He even considered retracting his words, just dismissing it as nothing. But then he noticed and heard her take a deep breath, and for a brief moment, something resembling a grateful smile appeared on her face.

“Okay,” she agreed with a weak nod. She glanced thoughtfully toward the club before turning her gaze back to him. “I guess I should go then.”

She didn’t move, as if waiting for something else.

“Right,” he muttered. “Right...thanks, by the way. For, you know, saving my life.”

It seemed like she was on the verge of a quiet chuckle, and he felt a little better.

“You’ll make it up to me somehow,” she replied.

This time, she didn’t acknowledge his words with a nod. Instead, she stepped closer, looping one arm around his neck, resting her chin against his shoulder, and staying still in that position, letting out just a sigh. Spencer, for most of the moment, felt too frozen to respond. And when he finally managed to, when he placed his hand gently on her back, returning the embrace, it was only a second before she pulled away and walked off.

[polydeuces]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it—the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

[jmkjournalblog]

"Soulmates" Part 1

Part 2

Pairing:Wednesday Addams x FemVampire! Reader

Summary: The Fem!reader, vampire with a penchant for dark humor and psychopathic tendencies, is sent to Nevermore Academy by her parents following an unpleasant incident involving the murder of a couple of triple students in her previous school. Despite their contrasting personalities, the reader and Wednesday form a complex bond, navigating their differences while facing challenges that threaten to keep them apart.

A/N: This text combines three chapters written at different times, so there might be slight differences in style. Also, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes))

Warnings: Shitty humor

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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the picturesque town. It was a quaint, almost idyllic place, with its cobblestone streets and charming old buildings—a far cry from the darkness that lurked within the reader's soul. She stood at the edge of town, a lone figure amidst the bustle of the afternoon crowd. Tall and imposing, with an air of quiet confidence that set her apart from the ordinary townsfolk, she surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

The Y/n was not here by choice. No, she had been sent—a pawn in a game she had no desire to play. Her parents, in their infinite wisdom—or perhaps, their utter lack thereof—had deemed it necessary to exile her to Nevermore Academy, a school for misfits and outcasts. It was a punishment disguised as a solution, a way to rid themselves of a daughter whose darkness they could no longer abide.

And so, here she was, alone in a town that reeked of desperation and decay, a stranger in a strange land. It was a bitter irony, she thought, that a creature such as herself—a creature of the night, born to roam the shadows—should find herself so utterly exposed in the harsh light of day. But she was not one to dwell on self-pity, nor was she inclined to mourn the loss of a home she had long outgrown. No, she would embrace this new chapter of her existence with the same ferocity that she embraced life itself.

With a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes, the Y/n turned her gaze towards the looming silhouette of Nevermore Academy, its spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a long-forgotten deity. And as she took her first steps towards her new prison, she couldn't help but wonder what twisted fate awaited her within its hallowed halls.

*Y/n POV*

As I stepped into the imposing entrance hall of Nevermore Academy, I was greeted by the sight of a young girl. She was dressed in the school uniform, her blond hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she approached with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Welcome to Nevermore Academy," she said with a wry smile, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Enid Sinclair. And you must be the new arrival."

I nodded, returning her handshake. Enid's warmth and charm were a welcome contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hung me like a shroud.

"Nice to meet you," I replied with a forced smile. There's no point in being rude, this school is my last resort, and it's better to try to be nicer to people. "I must admit, I wasn't sure if anyone would meet me."

" I always give a tour of the school to new students, especially since you will be my roommate." A smile spread across her face. God, I wish I could be as carefree "It's going to be so much fun, you, me and Wednesday are three new best friends".

Three best friends? Well, that's one way to look at it—a trio of misfits ready to conquer the world, or at least survive sharing a room.

"Wow, lucky me," I muttered inwardly, plastering on a grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "I've always wanted to be part of a trio. How did you know?" 

I forced another polite smile, masking my inner cynicism with practiced ease. "Okay, we can't stand here all day. Let's go. "

After walking around all the main areas of the school, Enid and I headed towards our room. The whole time we were walking, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was definitely going to be interesting. Enid had her own issues, but I'd always been attracted to people who looked at the world with an unhealthy amount of optimism. Talking to her should dilute my morbid thoughts with a touch of sweet idiocy. For being alone with myself again does me no good, though it gives me a lot of pleasure.

“So, roomie, ready to see your new abode?” - Enid said with a smile, her hand resting on the doorknob. With a casual shrug, I followed her into the room.

A huge room greeted us, with beds on both sides. The left side was a riot of colors, what I would call “colorblind worst nightmare” It was a cacophony of hues that defied description. Plush toys adorned one wall. Well at least it is not dakimakura with half-naked characters from anime or furi costumes. On the other side of the room, the atmosphere was stark—black linens on the bed, a desk, and a typewriter. Its practically untouched. It felt more like a museum piece than a living space, devoid of any trace of personality. Enid had mentioned that the other girl had only recently moved in…

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM ROOM?” – Enid asked in irritation.

Her voice startling me out of my thoughts. Distractedly looking around the room, I completely missed the girl who was tearing off colored stickers from the right half of the huge window. It must be Wednesday.

“Dividing our room equally,” replied Wednesday, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked the last of the colored paper to Enid's side for emphasis. "It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side." She finished in a calm tone, as she returned to the desk at her side of the room.

God, I love drama.

“I...” I could literally see Enid's ears steaming right now.

“Silence would be appreciated.” Wednesday spoke as she quickly cut her roommate off. "This is my writing time."

I like this school already.

“Your writing time ? ” Enid asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wednesday rolled up her sleeves as she situated herself in front of her typewriter. “I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same your vlog might be coherent.” she slides the carriage of the typewriter to the side as she continued, “I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation.”

She read serial killer diaries? One point to the goth girl.

Enid clenched her fists “I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love.”

“Your followers are clearly imbeciles.” Wednesday stood up from her desk as she moved infront of Enid. “They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures.”

“Uh, you mean emoji's?” a small smile appears on Enid face “It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you.”

“When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole.” She continues “By the way, there are two D's in Addams." she moved back over to her desk. “If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly.”

“Ahem”- as much as I'd love for this delightful show to continue, I can't just stand there like an idiot with things to do. I could certainly settle down nicely on my suitcase to brew some coffee and continue watching this wonderful drama, but I think sooner or later they'll notice me.

“Oh, sorry about that please, I'm just not used to this attitude. Wednesday, meet Y/n. She's going to live with us too.”

“That's okay, Enid, you can continue this lovely conversation, very intriguing actually. All I need to do is put my things somewhere and ideally lie down myself. The long drive and the splendid but somewhat drawn-out tour, has tired me out.”

Wednesday turned to me. “Nice to meet you, now if you'll excuse it’s my writing time,” she said, before turning back to her typewriter. She began methodically tapping the keys of her typewriter.

I smiled to myself, amused by the interaction. These two were definitely something else.

“Ms. Thornhill has decided that your bed will be on Wednesday's side, there's more room and the closet is close by. Bed should be arriving soon, but in the meantime, you can lay out your things, the outer two doors are yours.”

“Got it, okay then, that's what I'll do for now.”

Taking the suitcase in my hands I headed over to the closet, starting to put things away. I've always had a problem with this, not that I don't like it on the contrary, pedantically folding shirt to shirt, pants to pants, has always calmed me down. Things in the closet should look like they're on the counter of a boutique. If something doesn't look right, I can't sleep well.

Enid put on a song. I guess this is another one of God's tests for all the sins I've done. Don't get me wrong, I like music, but on rare occasions. People who play it on a regular basis to soundtrack their daily routine are the real psychopaths.

“Turn it off!” Wednesday gets up from her chair and heads over to Enid.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exchange. It was moments like this that made me grateful for immortality. Trying not to attract attention, I peeked out from behind the locker door, amused by the unfolding drama.

“This is your final warning!”

As she got too close Enid raised her hands and let out her rainbow painted nails out a claw. “Don't mess with me. This kitty’s got claws and I’m not afraid to use them.”

Suddenly the door swings open and a woman walks into the room.

“Good evening girls.” She looks around the room throwing a glance first at me and then at Wednesday. “I wanted to make sure that Wednesday and Y/n was settling in...”

She walks to the middle of the room, kicking up mud from her shoes on the wooden floor…. It drives me insane.

“I’m Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome.”

“She's been smothering us with hospitality, I hope to return the favor. In her sleep”.

Such unconcealed aggression, I like it.

“Enid did a great job of showing and telling me everything, thank her so much, and it's nice to meet you,” I interjected, wanting to move the conversation along.

Ms. Thornhill turned to me, offering a warm smile. “I'm very glad it went well.”

“The only thing I would like to ask about is the bed. I wouldn't really want to sleep on the floor on the first day in such a beautiful place. It would have dampened all the excitement I got out of today.”

“Oh right, the guys were supposed to bring it, but it looks like they're running late. I'll have to find them again and tell them.”

At this rate, I was going to sleep on the floor tonight.

“Ms. Thornhill, why do we need the guys? Why don't you just show me where to get it, and I'll take it from there? I think I'm strong enough to do that,” I replied with a sweet smile.

She looked at me in disbelief. I smiled a little, letting her catch a glimpse of my fangs.

“Ah, okay, I didn't realize right away. Not all vampires who are in this school have abilities such as strength or speed, so...Let's go,” she said, turning around and heading for the door. I followed her, casting a disdainful glance at the dirt left on the floor.

Who even does things like that?

Y/n POV

The walk with Ms. Thornhill was uneventful, except for her curious glances, which I pretended not to notice. She seemed… overly friendly, and her cheery disposition grated against every instinct I had. There was something unsettling in how her smile lingered just a bit too long. Still, I played the obedient new student—sweet smiles, polite nods, not even a hint of fangs. It wasn’t hard to find the storage area, cluttered with dusty furniture and half-forgotten relics from who knows how long ago. With little more than a gesture, I hefted the bedframe onto my shoulder, making it look far easier than it should have been.

As I walked back through the hallways of Nevermore, I couldn’t help but scan the dimly lit corridors and high arched ceilings. This place was dripping with history and secrets—I could practically taste it in the air. I wondered what kind of skeletons were hiding in these closets and whether any of them were literal. The thought amused me enough to crack a smile, which I quickly smothered when I caught sight of the door to our room.

Returning to find Enid attempting to cheerfully hang more decorations—and failing spectacularly in the face of Wednesday’s withering glares—was almost worth the trouble. Almost. I stepped into the room, set down the bedframe with a soft thud, and stretched slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh that earned me a sideways glance from both girls. I raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, who, naturally, looked unimpressed.

“You’re back,” she stated flatly, her attention already returning to the clack of typewriter keys. “I’d begun hoping you’d gotten lost and decided to stay that way.”

I grinned, leaning casually against the wall as I met her icy gaze. “Oh, did you miss me already, Wednesday? I’m touched.” I let my words drip with playful mockery, watching for her reaction.

She didn’t even pause her typing. “I don’t miss nuisances. They have a way of making themselves known whether one wishes it or not.”

“Well, it’s good to know I’ve made an impression,” I replied lightly, crossing my arms. “I do so hate being forgettable.”

There it was—a slight pause in her keystrokes. Barely perceptible, but I saw it. Victory. She resumed typing, but I could see the muscles in her jaw tense, and that alone was worth every ounce of effort. Behind me, Enid let out an exaggerated groan.

“Can you two not flirt for five minutes?” Enid asked, half-exasperated and half-amused as she tossed another garish pillow onto her bed.

“Flirting?” I said innocently, a hand coming to my chest. “Enid, I think you’ve misunderstood me. I was simply trying to have a civil conversation.”

“Your idea of civil conversation seems to involve needling people until they bleed,” Wednesday remarked coolly, finally glancing my way. “I’m sure you’re quite proud of yourself.”

“Oh, very,” I said, flashing a grin that showed just the hint of fang. “But I only needle people who are interesting. Take that as a compliment.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a spark in her dark eyes. A dangerous, calculating spark. “Compliments from you hold about as much value as a counterfeit coin. Useless and possibly diseased.”

I tilted my head, letting my smile widen. “And yet you’ve pocketed it anyway.”

“Enough!” Enid interjected, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m already regretting my decision to be roommates with either of you.”

“I thought we were best friends, Enid?” I teased, giving her a mock-wounded look. She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

As the brief silence fell, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, the clack of the keys resuming with renewed vigor. I moved to finish setting up my space, feeling her presence keenly even as she pretended, I didn’t exist. But I knew better. She’d noticed me, whether she liked it or not. And I intended to keep it that way.

I focused on arranging the few belongings I had, keeping one eye on my two roommates. Enid flitted around, determined to keep the atmosphere upbeat despite the thickening tension, while Wednesday remained stoic, her fingers tapping out words with relentless precision. The mechanical clatter of the typewriter filled the room, a fitting soundtrack to our peculiar dynamic.

As I stowed the last of my clothes, I moved to the shared windowsill. Half of it, Wednesday’s half, was bare and colorless, just like the rest of her side. I dragged a finger across the divider she’d drawn—black tape down the middle, stark and deliberate. When she’d divided the room, she hadn’t left any margin for negotiation. That was fine. I wasn’t one to negotiate either.

“Did you choose the décor yourself?” I asked, tone light but teasing. “It really says a lot about you.”

The typewriter stopped mid-sentence, and her head turned, her expression a mask of cold detachment. “If by ‘a lot’ you mean ‘nothing,’ then you are correct. My surroundings reflect my disregard for frivolity.”

I leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed, giving her a slow once-over. “Yes, I see that. Stark, somber, a touch of morbidity… What’s next, Wednesday? Iron bars over your window? A ‘keep out’ sign? Or is this already your version of a welcome mat?”

“Those who need signs to warn them of danger are already too foolish to avoid it,” she retorted, her voice like ice. She didn’t look away, and I felt the weight of her attention settle on me like a dare.

“Danger? That sounds intriguing.” I stepped closer, deliberately closing the space between us. “But I’d rather find out for myself than take your word for it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she’d lash out. Instead, she simply pushed her chair back with a quiet scrape and stood. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, stepping closer herself. We were nearly face-to-face now, her glare as sharp as a blade.

“Only when I’m provoked,” I said, my voice softening, the challenge in it unmistakable. “Or intrigued.”

For a heartbeat, I thought she might reach for one of her knives. It wouldn’t have surprised me. But then she stepped back, and the flicker of emotion was gone, replaced by a cold, composed exterior. “Intrigue is a fleeting distraction. You’ll tire of it soon enough.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I murmured, watching her turn her back to me and return to her typewriter. I had to give it to her; she was disciplined. She’d withdrawn from the confrontation as if it hadn’t fazed her, as if the moment hadn’t happened. But it had.

Enid broke the silence, plopping down onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t we all just get along? Isn’t this supposed to be like… the beginning of a beautiful friendship?”

“I don’t recall asking for friendship,” Wednesday replied without looking up.

“And I don’t recall rejecting it,” I added with a smirk, earning a scoff from Wednesday.

“See?” Enid grinned, ever the optimist. “Progress! I’m telling you, we’re going to be the best trio ever. Just give it time.”

“Optimism is a fool’s currency,” Wednesday stated, resuming her typing. “It’s usually spent too freely and leaves the owner penniless.”

“Good thing I have plenty to spare,” Enid shot back, unfazed. She turned to me. “Y/n, you’ll see. She’s all doom and gloom now, but she’ll warm up eventually.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I said, letting the implication linger. “Though I have to admit, I like her just the way she is.”

Wednesday’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second, and my grin widened. There it was again—the tell that she was paying attention, even if she pretended otherwise.

Enid reached for her phone, likely ready to drown out the tension with music or social media, but she paused, her expression curious. “So, Y/n… what brought you to Nevermore?”

“Exile,” I said simply, my voice taking on a darker edge. “I’m here because my family thought it would be safer to have me… away.”

Enid blinked, unsure whether I was joking. “Safer for who?”

“Exactly.” I allowed a flicker of my fangs to show, then shrugged. “But this place isn’t so bad. It might even grow on me.”

“It’s full of disappointments,” Wednesday said coolly, not missing a beat. “Don’t let the shadows fool you.”

“Disappointments keep things interesting,” I replied, stepping back toward my side of the room. “And I’ve always been drawn to interesting things.”

I felt her eyes on me even after she turned back to her writing. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, maybe—but undeniably fun.

The next morning, the air was crisp, and a thin layer of fog crept around the gothic towers of Nevermore Academy. I found myself sitting on the edge of my freshly delivered bed, lacing up my boots. The rest of the room was quiet, but I could feel a watchful presence. Turning slightly, I caught Wednesday’s reflection in the mirror; she was silently observing me while pretending to prepare her things. Her eyes were intense as ever, like she was sizing me up, waiting for me to make the first move. It amused me, and I made no effort to hide my grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, breaking the tension in the room.

She blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that barely disguised her disdain. “Please spare me your nauseating pleasantries.”

“Why, Wednesday, it almost sounds like you didn’t sleep well.” I stood, stretching. “I’d say I’m hurt by that, but I do recall you typing well into the night. Plotting murder, perhaps?”

“If I were plotting murder, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she replied with a deadpan expression.

I laughed softly, loving how quick she was. “Noted. I’ll try to be more deserving of your mercy.” I leaned closer as I passed her on the way to the door. “For now.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she was far from indifferent. Oh, this was definitely going to be an interesting place.

The hallway was bustling with other students, each an oddity in their own right—shapeshifters, psychics, sirens, and more. I navigated the throng with ease, catching glimpses of curious eyes that lingered just a moment too long. Whispers followed me. New arrivals always attracted attention, and I wasn’t exactly the type to blend in.

“Y/n!” Enid’s cheery voice pierced the noise, and she bounded over like a hyperactive puppy, practically glowing with excitement. “How did you sleep? Oh! You’re going to love breakfast here—it’s the best part of the day!”

“I’m surprised you managed to sleep at all with the ambiance,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I half-expected bats to swoop down from the rafters.

“Oh, they’ve tried.” She shrugged with a wide smile. “But seriously, come on! The sausages are to die for.”

I followed her, letting Enid’s chatter wash over me. She was like a rainbow in this dreary place, and, strangely, I found her optimism a welcome contrast. Wednesday walked a few steps behind us, silent and brooding as ever. It was almost comforting.

The cafeteria was a storm of voices, laughter, and clinking trays. Enid led me through the throng of students, her energy a stark contrast to the brooding architecture of Nevermore. We found a spot at a small table near one of the tall, stained-glass windows. As I settled in, a presence made itself known—a girl with sleek black hair, crimson-tinted sunglasses, and a confident air that turned heads without effort. She walked up, holding her tray like she owned the place.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, but it was rhetorical. She was already sitting down, her eyes on me.

Enid perked up. “Oh! Y/n, this is Yoko Tanaka. Yoko, meet Y/n. She’s new.”

“Yoko,” I repeated, my gaze trailing over her with casual interest. I extended a hand, playing along. “Nice to meet you.”

Her grip was cool, steady. She didn’t let go right away, and her lips curled into a smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. So, Enid’s newest roommate, huh? Welcome to the madhouse.”

I returned her smile, undeterred by the playful challenge in her tone. “Thanks. From what I’ve seen, I’m going to fit right in.”

“Really?” Yoko’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. “It takes a lot to fit in here. But something tells me you’ll manage.” She tilted her head slightly. “You’re not... ordinary, are you?”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I might,” she replied, the light catching the edge of her sunglasses. “Most newcomers are easy to read. But you? You’re a little... more.”

Wednesday, who had been quietly picking at her food, suddenly spoke up. “If you two are done exchanging veiled flirtations, there are more important matters at hand.”

I turned my gaze to her, a smirk playing on my lips. “You know, Wednesday, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“Jealousy is a pointless emotion,” she said flatly, though her eyes seemed to darken. “I simply despise wasted time.”

“Oh, so you’d rather spend your time... constructively?” I asked, feigning deep interest. “Writing your next bestseller or analyzing the cafeteria’s murder statistics?”

She set her fork down with deliberate precision. “Both. I find productivity in all things. Unlike some people who waste their breath on hollow banter.”

“See?” I leaned forward conspiratorially, turning to Yoko. “This is what I get for trying to lighten the mood.”

Yoko laughed, a rich, throaty sound that drew a few glances. “You two are something. But don’t worry—I enjoy the kind of banter that makes the daylight hours less boring.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, deciding to prod a little. “To liven things up for me?”

She pushed her sunglasses up, revealing striking eyes that glimmered with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. Vampires don’t often get surprises, you know.”

“Vampires?” I arched an eyebrow, pretending not to know. “Is that what we’re calling ourselves these days?”

Enid jumped in with a cheerful clap of her hands. “Y/n’s also a vampire, Yoko! You two should totally hang out. Maybe you can teach her the ropes!”

Yoko’s smile widened, showing a hint of fang. “Oh, I’d be delighted. As long as she doesn’t get scared too easily.”

I matched her smile, unflinching. “Scared? That’s not really my thing.”

“Good.” Yoko’s voice dropped, her gaze sharpening. “Because there are plenty of things in Nevermore that will test your limits. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

Before I could respond, Wednesday stood up abruptly, gathering her tray. “This conversation has officially crossed into drivel. Some of us have standards.”

“Leaving already?” I asked, enjoying the way her expression never wavered.

“Unlike you, I have productive tasks awaiting me.” She paused, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Try not to lower the collective intelligence of the room while I’m gone.”

I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

She left without another word, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a hint of amusement hidden beneath her icy exterior. Yoko watched her go, then turned back to me, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Good,” I replied. “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 1 - Terms and Conditions

A/N: Here we are, the first chapter of this series. I’m so excited!! Leave a heart, comment and reblog if you’ve enjoyed it.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: slow burn.

Terms and Conditions

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The reception was held at a private venue overlooking the New York skyline—a glittering palace of glass and ego where billionaires mingled with politicians, and journalists loitered in the shadows like champagne-drunk piranhas.

You stood at the top of a winding staircase, dress impeccable, posture flawless, and mind somewhere between fight-or-flight and where’s the emergency dessert table.

Next to you, Tony adjusted the cuff of his suit, gaze sweeping over the crowd like a man used to commanding armies and afterparties. He looked dazzling. Unbothered. A little too good at pretending.

“You ready for your public debut, Mrs. Stark?” he murmured without looking at you.

You gave a tight smile. “No. But my heels are already killing me, so I’m too far gone to back out now.”

Tony chuckled under his breath. “That’s the spirit.”

The announcement came seconds later—some flouncy voice introducing the newlyweds like royalty entering a battlefield. The staircase suddenly stretched into a catwalk, the steps longer, the air hotter.

He offered his arm. You took it. The cameras exploded like fireworks. You both descended with matching smiles, perfectly practiced and utterly hollow.

You made rounds like two diplomats negotiating peace, shaking hands, accepting compliments, dodging questions that were disguised as well-wishes.

Tony basked in it, tossing charm like confetti. “Oh, that? Yes, the merger’s going beautifully. Married life is just another strategic partnership, isn’t it?”

You, meanwhile, perfected the art of smiling with only your eyes, while plotting how to fake a fainting spell without embarrassing your ancestors.

From across the room, you spotted a cluster of familiar faces: Rhodey, already watching you with a knowing look; and then—Steve Rogers. In a suit. Next to Bucky Barnes, who looked like someone had shoved him into a tuxedo and threatened to withhold bourbon if he didn’t behave.

They were talking to Happy, who waved you over like a proud uncle at a talent show.

“Look who’s survived the gauntlet,” Happy said as you reached them. He handed you a flute of something bubbly. “You didn’t trip on the stairs. That’s a win.”

Steve extended his hand. “Congratulations. I hope this wasn’t entirely your idea.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Not even remotely.”

Bucky gave you an appraising look. “You’re the one who called Stark a walking headline during that MIT tech summit, right?”

Tony, who had rejoined you, sipped his drink. “Still the best insult I’ve ever been awarded. It’s framed in the lab.”

Bucky smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Steve elbowed him, but you caught it—the faint grin pulling at his mouth. Something in your chest relaxed, just a little.

.

Eventually, the emcee summoned you to the dance floor for the moment. The first dance as a married couple. The public seal of a very private contract with a kiss you were dreading.

Tony guided you onto the floor, his hand warm against your back. The music swelled, something slow and dramatic.

You swayed together, more poised than close.

“You holding up?” he asked, voice low.

“Faking it like a pro.”

He smiled at that. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

The cameras waited. So did the crowd. You could feel it.

You felt his fingers tighten subtly at your waist. His face leaned in, not too close, not too soft. Just enough to graze his mouth across yours, a whisper of a kiss, chased by the echo of a thousand shutters.

It felt like nothing. And somehow, it was everything.

The applause from the dance barely faded before the clink of a spoon against crystal rang out. All heads turned toward the podium.

Pepper Potts stood there, poised and radiant in ivory. Graceful, powerful.

“I’ve known Tony for almost a decade now,” she began, voice smooth. “I’ve seen him through breakthroughs, meltdowns, questionable hairstyles, and even more questionable relationships.”

Polite laughter rippled through the room.

Pepper’s eyes flicked toward you, sharp, appraising.

“And then—you happened. It’s not often that someone can surprise Tony Stark… let alone survive it.”

More laughter. You smiled, but something in your gut coiled tight.

She turned slightly, her tone lilting. “And if anyone can handle the chaos that comes with being married to a genius-slash-menace, I imagine it’s someone who didn’t flinch during their prenup negotiation.”

That got actual chuckles. Tony lifted his glass in amusement.

You didn’t miss it—how she held back the last sip of her toast. Like she wasn’t quite ready to swallow it all.

“To compromise that feels like control, affection that’s occasionally inconvenient, and a marriage that’s already trending.”

And then, softer, just enough for you and Tony to feel it.

“To Tony. For finally finding someone who challenges him… without trying to fix him.”

That landed. You felt it slide under your skin. The crowd clapped. Tony didn’t smile this time.

And neither did you.

You filed it away. Pepper might’ve given up the title, but she hadn’t vacated the throne.

.

You slipped away later. The room had grown louder, stuffier, all that glitter settling like dust in your lungs. You found the balcony empty and deliciously cold.

The city pulsed beneath you. And for a second, you just… breathed.

“You made it through,” came a voice.

You turned to find Rhodey beside you, nursing a drink and looking smug.

“Barely,” you said.

He handed you a mini dessert. “Sugar helps.”

You took it. Bit in. Let the sugar melt on your tongue and the noise fade behind you.

“It’s going to get weirder before it gets better,” he said gently. “But you’ve got this. Just… don’t let Tony bulldoze over the real you. That’d be a damn waste.”

Your throat tightened a little. You nodded.

Somewhere inside, Tony laughed too loud.

You glanced through the glass doors, catching a flicker of him—shoulders relaxed, head tipped back, a drink in one hand. The woman next to him was statuesque, glossy, and leaning in with the kind of familiarity that made your stomach tighten.

Her hand brushed his arm as she laughed at something—probably not even that funny—and Tony didn’t pull away. He smiled that smile. The one that belonged in headlines and hotel rooms.

You looked away before the moment could gather more weight than it deserved.

This was the arrangement, after all. Separate lives. Public smiles. Private detours.

Still, you tucked the image away like a shard under your ribs—sharp, and certain to sting later.

You braced yourself.

Because if tonight was any indication, this marriage wouldn’t just be difficult.

It would be a masterclass in patience.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 24: Into Enemy Territory 

The first gif cause our love sick cook, was wild in Dressrosa.

This second gif, is because once you read what I have in store, it'll all make sense (heheh) also cause Sabo is fine too LMFAOO

A/N: Yall this chapter has so much involved! We got betrayal, drama, passion, everything dressrosa has to offer. And we also have a Sanji POV, and a surprise guest, you wont believe who it is. Don't worry we will be getting more flashbacks as well, once you see who is the surprise guest, as Y/N and him have a history together. Thank you guys so much for following along with the chapters, I will go back to link previous one. Thank you for the likes and reblogs, as well as interactions and follows. Chapter 25 is about to be good! and chapters 26 and 27.... ohh they cooking! again all is fair in love and war ;) And without further a do lets get to it! 

Word Count: 5.3K

Sanji X Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One Piece Reader. 

Y/N POV… 

As we walked into the island of Dressrosa, the whole place came to life. The vibrant atmosphere was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The streets were filled with the smell of delicious meals, and everywhere you looked, people were dancing. It felt like stepping into a dream.

“This place looks enchanting,” I said in awe, taking in the lively sights around us.

“Mmmm, smells good!” Franky exclaimed, his eyes gleaming as he sniffed the air. Luffy, Kinemon, and Sanji shared the same excitement, practically drooling as they took in the enticing aromas.

Zoro and I exchanged amused smirks at their reactions.

But what truly startled me was the sight of the dolls walking among the crowds as if they were human. They were everywhere, blending in so seamlessly that I almost didn’t notice at first.

“What... are those?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as one passed by, its wooden face unnervingly lifelike.

"Living toys?" Zoro muttered, frowning. "Weird place."

“I don’t trust this,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.

“Neither do I,” he replied, his eyes scanning the crowd, always on guard.Everywhere you looked, toys moved about like ordinary citizens, their wooden or mechanical bodies blending in with the bustling activity. Just then, a shout broke through the noise of the town.

"It’s happened again!" A toy frantically called for attention, its mechanical arms waving in alarm. "A man’s been stabbed again!"

“Again? You guys got a maniac on the loose or something?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow at the situation.

The toy in front of us shook its head, explaining in an oddly casual tone, “No, it’s just very passionate women, and they’re the jealous type, you know? So if their lover cheats on them… bad stuff happens.”

Zoro frowned in confusion, while the toy continued, “It’s always the pretty ones who are especially stabby.”

I slapped my forehead, muttering, “Great, just what I needed—jealous, stab-happy women.”

Luffy, unfazed as usual, crossed his arms and sighed dramatically, “Great, the toys are alive. I’m over it now! Come on, let’s eat!” he yelled excitedly, already marching off in search of food.

Kinemon then proceeded to conjure up our disguises. The men were dressed in sharp suits, blending into the refined crowd of Dressrosa. When it came to my outfit, however, I was left in a sleek yet revealing black mini dress. It had a high neck, but the back was open all the way down to my lower back. I wore tall black heels to match, and my weapons were discreetly strapped to a thigh holster, just barely noticeable under the short hem of the dress. My hair was pulled into a tight bun, with a few loose strands framing my face.

"Kinemon!" I protested, crossing my arms. "Why am I the most exposed here?"

Sanji, predictably, was in heaven. "You’re stunning, Y/N! Absolutely stunning!" he gushed, his eyes practically heart-shaped.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, but then caught sight of Zoro, who was dressed in a sharp suit. I raised an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him. "Wow, Zoro. I never thought I'd see you looking this... refined."

Zoro shot me a smirk, his eyes roaming over my outfit for a second. “I could say the same for you,” he said with a low chuckle. Then, leaning closer, he whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “That favor I’ve got coming... maybe now’s the perfect time to cash it in.”

My cheeks warmed at his flirtation, but before I could respond, Sanji burst into a fit. “Mosshead! Don’t you dare try anything with Y/N! She deserves better than some brainless swordsman like you!”

Zoro gave him a deadpan look, completely unfazed. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t asking for your opinion, curly-brow.”

The two started bickering again, as usual, but I couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. With that, we continued onward, Luffy already well ahead, practically drooling as he tracked down the scent of food like a hound on a mission.

As we sat at the table, food piled high in front of us, Luffy wasted no time stuffing his face, oblivious to everything except the delicious dishes in front of him. The rest of us, however, were more cautious, scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary.

“I must search for Kanjuro. There's no time to be sitting and eating, Sir Luffy!" Kinemon insisted, fidgeting nervously.

"Relax, Kinemon," I said, taking a sip of water.

“Yeah, besides, we need to gather intel first," Franky chimed in.

As we were discussing our plan, I noticed a blind man playing at the roulette table across the room. He was winning, but the dealer began to cheat. Sanji, puffing on a cigarette, muttered, “They're nothing but low-life thugs."

“Poor guy's about to get robbed," I said, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the blind man.

Suddenly, Luffy stood up, wandering over to the table just as the dealer tried to trick the man again. The blind man had bet on white, and sure enough, the ball landed on white. But the dealer, with a sly grin, claimed it was black.

“It landed on white, congrats gramps," Luffy said, casually continuing to eat from his plate, completely ignoring the tension building around him.

The dealer's face darkened with anger. "No, it's black," he snapped.

Luffy, unfazed, simply repeated, “Nope. It's white.”

A few bystanders whispered to each other, clearly recognizing the dealer's connections. "Doesn't he know who they work for?" one of them muttered.

"Looks like Luffy got himself involved again," Sanji sighed, shaking his head.

“Yup,” I replied, just as a waiter suddenly placed a glass of wine in front of me.

Startled, I looked up. “I didn’t order any wine,” I said.

The waiter smiled politely. “This one’s on the house,” he said, before walking away.

Zoro glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna drink it?”

I grinned and replied, “You know I can’t turn down wine. But I'll share a little with you.”

I took a small sip, savoring the taste. “This is delicious,” I said, taking a few more sips.

Just then, the situation at the roulette table escalated. The dealers were about to strike Luffy, but before I could intervene, the blind man acted first. He unleashed a powerful attack that sent the thugs crashing through the floor, leaving a gaping hole in the ground.

“How the hell did he do that?!” Franky exclaimed, wide-eyed.

The blind man calmly made his way toward the exit as Luffy called out to him, asking for his name. But the man remained silent, disappearing into the night.

“This guy is no ordinary guy," I muttered, watching him leave.

Before we could fully process what had happened, Zoro suddenly looked down at his waist, panic flashing across his face. "One of my swords is missing... Shusui!" he growled. "How can I be so careless?!"

"It must’ve been the fairies," said a toy/waiter

“Fairies?!” I repeated, confused.

Zoro, without a word, bolted through the window, having spotted his sword stuck on a distant rooftop.

“You got cocky, now give it back!” Zoro shouted at the unseen culprit.

“Zoro!” I called after him, sprinting in his direction.

“Y/N, don’t follow mosshead!” Sanji yelled, chasing after us.

Kinemon joined the chase, shouting, “You will return that sword to its rightful owner!”

Luffy wanted to follow, but Franky grabbed him. One by one, we all took off after Zoro.

“Zoro, come back!” I yelled, struggling to keep up. "These heels aren't meant for gravel!" I cursed under my breath, running as fast as I could.

“Y/N! Get back here, leave mosshead alone!” Sanji hollered, still trailing behind.

Breathless, I finally had to slow down, glancing around and realizing I had lost Zoro. “Damn it, Zoro, where’d you go?!” I muttered to myself, scanning the area. There was no sign of Zoro. Or Sanji, for that matter.

“So much for staying close,” I sighed, gathering my bearings as I continued to search for them both. 

The streets of Dressrosa were a maze, and it seemed like I was just running in circles. "Damn it!" I muttered under my breath. "At this rate, I’ll never be able to find them."

Just as I was about to stop and catch my breath, I heard a voice yell out, “Catch the girl! Don’t let her get away!” My heart jumped as I saw three men rapidly closing in on me.

“Crap, not good!” I gasped, my legs already in motion as I sprinted through the narrow streets. My mind raced for options, and I clenched my left hand, ready to use my ability for a boost to escape. But before I could act, a strong hand suddenly grabbed me, pulling me into the shadows of a nearby alley.

A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my panicked scream as the other hand gripped my waist, pressing me tightly against a firm chest. I struggled to break free, my instincts screaming to fight back, but a familiar voice whispered urgently in my ear, “Hush. Relax.”

The men chasing me ran past the alley, still shouting. “She vanished! Damn it, keep looking! The boss wants her!”

I stayed frozen for a moment, my mind still processing the sudden ambush.

“Phew, that was a close one, Princess,” the voice said again, calm and teasing. Just as I was about to use my right leg to send him flying, he swiftly dodged, his reflexes too fast.

“That anklet I gave you is coming in handy, I see,” he added with a smirk. The dim light of the alley revealed just enough of his face for me to recognize him.

Realization washed over me, my heart skipping a beat as I whispered in disbelief, “Sam?”

The figure before me grinned, his familiar presence both a surprise and a relief. What was he doing here?

Sanji POV…  

“Damn it, Mosshead!” I growled, racing after him. “I told you to wait, damn it! Now’s not the time to wander off!” My voice echoed down the alley as I finally caught up to the green-haired swordsman.

Zoro turned to me with his usual nonchalant attitude. “Where’s Y/N?” I demanded, feeling the weight of her absence now that things were getting dicey.

“How should I know?” Zoro replied, shrugging as if it didn’t matter.

I clenched my fist, ready to punch some sense into him. “Damn it, Zoro! Now Y/N is more endangered thanks to you running off!”

The two of us immediately broke into our usual bickering, faces close, shouting back and forth.

Zoro scoffed. "If she’s in danger, it’s not because of me, Curly-brow.

“At least I’m not some lost swordsman who’s got no clue what’s happening half the time!”

“Better lost than chasing skirts every five seconds,” he grumbled.

I huffed, but before I could retort, something caught my eye. “Wait, what’s that?” I asked, noticing a crowd gathered just ahead.

“What, did you find the fairy?” Zoro asked, clearly uninterested.

“No… her,” I said, my eyes locking onto a woman getting ready to dance. Her movements were elegant and graceful, captivating the entire audience as she danced the flamenco, each step more mesmerizing than the last. For her grand finale, she tossed a rose into the air, and to my surprise, it landed right in my hand.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, staring dreamily at the rose and the woman, completely entranced by her grace.

Zoro rolled his eyes. “You forget how stab-happy these women are? A guy like you is going to wind up with holes all over.”

Still fawning over the woman, I barely heard Zoro’s warning. “Hmm, looks like you’re not lovesick for Y/N anymore, huh? Good, less competition for the rest of us,” Zoro added with a smirk.

That snapped me out of my trance. I turned toward him, fists clenched. “Oi, Mosshead, I’m still—” I started, but before I could finish, my gaze drifted back to the dancer as she winked at me. My heart fluttered.

“Oh, she can stab me as many times as she wants,” I muttered, clutching my chest, my mind clouded with affection. When I turned back, Zoro had already vanished. “Crap! He’s gone! That bastard gave me the slip!”

Frustrated, I marched forward, determined to find him, but my mind kept wandering. “Nothing but couples around here… it’s like they’re all trying to make me jealous or something.” I couldn’t help but picture Y/N in my thoughts again. What if I got a second chance with her? I imagined us strolling along the streets, her hand in mine, her head resting on my shoulder. What I wouldn’t give for just one more chance...

“Excuse me, sir?” a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. “Aren’t you the man I locked eyes with earlier?”

Startled, I looked up to see the dancer standing before me. “Wha—?!”

She stepped closer, her hands brushing against my chest. “Please, hold me in a romantic embrace,” she whispered, pressing herself against me, her lips suddenly sealing with mine before I could even process what was happening.

Soldiers nearby searched frantically. “Did you see where she went?!”

“No, looks like we lost her!” another soldier responded as they ran off in the opposite direction.

Her lips still on mine, I felt my body relax as I instinctively wrapped my arms around her hips. When she finally pulled away, she glanced around cautiously. “I think they’re gone now. Thank you, kind sir,” she said, preparing to step back.

But my grip tightened, refusing to let her go. “It’s okay… you can stay a little longer,” I said, hearts in my eyes as I felt the warmth of her touch linger. Blood trickled from my nose as I stared at her dreamily. 

“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” I said, still completely smitten by the dancer. My nose continued to bleed as I stood there, heart pounding.

She tilted her head with a concerned look. “Are you alright? Did I bump my head into your nose, perhaps?”

“No, the impact I felt was the shock of meeting you,” I replied, the blood from my nose dribbling as my thoughts raced.

“But it must hurt,” the dancer purred, stepping closer.

“I’ve fallen off a cliff... into the abyss of love,” I said dramatically, clutching my chest as if my heart was on fire.

“Please, don’t say that,” she sighed dramatically, a sadness washing over her features. “I’ve already given up on love.”

Her words struck me, but before I could respond, she continued with a heavy heart. “Every man I’ve ever loved… they—” she began, but I quickly grabbed her wrist, eyes still swirling with hearts.

“Yes! They all died happy men!” I declared, completely entranced by her. My heart was blazing now, burning with the fire of passion I felt for this beautiful woman. “But those goons back there... why were they chasing you? Please, if there’s anything you need assistance with, just say the word!”

The dancer lowered her eyes and sighed deeply. “Those men... they are the police. There was a man, things between us went sour, and... so I stabbed him,” she admitted, her voice trembling.

My eyes widened in awe. “So, it’s true!” I said, eyes sparkling. “The women here are so passionate that they stab for love!” Giving her a thumbs-up, I added, “OK! I totally get it!”

“Wait!” she cried out, her voice breaking. Tears began to fill her eyes as she continued, “You must stop... I beg you not to indulge this wicked woman. I might just fall in love with you.”

Her words made my heart skip a beat. She’s already falling for me!

“I should have told you,” she continued, her voice softer now. “My name is Violet. If you don’t mind... could you escort me to the next town? And while we are there, there’s... a man I need you to kill.”

As she blushed, Violet grabbed my hands gently. Her eyes, so filled with emotion, sparkled under the dim light.

I barely heard the last part—my mind was too enchanted by her beauty, her presence, her everything. “Of course, Violet,” I whispered, completely under her spell. “Anything for you.”

To my dearest Nami and Robin... to my beloved Y/N... I pray that you have it in your heart to forgive this shameful man, for I may have found the one, I thought to myself, torn between memories and the woman at my side. Violet. Her presence drew me in like no other, and as we walked closer together, I couldn’t help but drape my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in gently.

"Think of me as your personal bodyguard," I said with a smirk, hoping to sound both charming and protective. We continued our walk until we arrived at a closed restaurant. I led the way inside, and as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed it was fully stocked with ingredients. Perfect, I thought.

Suddenly, the cooks appeared, looking baffled and defensive. “Why the hell are you here!?” one of them barked.

Without a second thought, I swiftly knocked them out. I didn’t have time for interruptions. My focus was solely on preparing a meal for Violet. I moved with purpose, gathering ingredients and beginning to cook with the finesse only I possessed. The sound of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of meat filled the air.

But then, through the haze of my focus, I faintly heard voices outside. Mosshead? Kin'emon? I paused for a moment, recognizing them. I chose to ignore it, continuing to work on the dish. My hands moved automatically, but my mind drifted to Y/N.

What would she think of all this? The thought gnawed at me. I wondered if Y/N would be upset seeing me so close to Violet. I could almost picture her face—disappointed, confused, hurt, maybe?

"What's going on?" Violet's soft voice snapped me back to reality.

"Oh, nothing!" I quickly replied, trying to mask the conflict brewing in my heart. I smiled at her as I continued prepping her meal, pouring all my care into every movement, yet my thoughts kept wandering back to Y/N. What have I gotten myself into?

Y/N POV… 

I stood frozen, staring at Sam. My body wouldn't respond—shock had taken over. What is he doing here? I wondered, my thoughts racing. Could something have happened to King, John, and the others? Just as the silence began to feel unbearable, Sam broke through it with that familiar smirk.

"Well, princess, cat got your tongue? I never thought you'd be the silent type," he teased, his smile almost disarming.

Without thinking, I rushed towards him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. “Oh, Sam, I’ve missed you so much,” I murmured into his chest, nuzzling closer to the warmth I hadn’t realized I craved so badly. “I didn’t think I’d see you this soon either!”

He hugged me back, but something felt off—he was too quiet. That strange silence lingered, making me pull back slightly, looking up at his face. That’s when I noticed it.

“Wait, Sam... when did you get this scar?” I asked, reaching out slowly to touch the mark etched from his eye to his right cheek. His hair had also grown longer, much longer than I remembered. “And your hair... it’s grown a lot too,” I added softly, my fingers weaving through his strands.

Sam groaned in response to my touch, almost like he’d missed it as much as I had.

But before I could say more, he grabbed my wrist gently and led me inside a small, dimly lit home. Rose petals adorned the floor, and candles flickered along the walls, casting a soft glow. “Sam, whose house is this?” I asked, confused and slightly unsettled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

He stood with his back to me, his voice low and serious. “There’s something I need to tell you, princess.” He took off his hat, revealing his messy blond hair underneath. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you…”

“What... what are you talking about?” I stammered, a sinking feeling creeping into my chest. Slowly, I reached out to touch his shoulder, hoping to ground myself.

"My name... isn’t Sam. My real name is… Sabo," he said, turning to face me with an expression that was both earnest and heartbreaking.

“What?” My voice shook as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “This isn’t funny, Sam. What are you talking about?”

“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, stepping closer. "But I need you to know... those two years we spent together on that island, getting to know each other, all of that was real. The moments we shared, the things we did... those were real."

My breathing became shallow, the room spinning as I struggled to process the revelation. Sabo? I couldn’t think straight, and before I knew it, Sabo gently cupped my face in his hands, trying to steady my frantic breathing.

“Y/N, just breathe,” he said softly, but his voice felt distant as my vision blurred. The last thing I saw before everything faded into darkness was Sabo’s face—his eyes full of regret and something else I couldn’t place. 

.

.As my vision cleared, groaning, I grabbed my head, trying to piece together what had just happened. “Wha... What happened?” I muttered, my thoughts still hazy.

“Well, I told you my real name, and you happened to faint,” came the voice next to me. My eyes widened as I turned to my left and saw Sabo lying beside me. Everything came rushing back in waves, the truth he’d revealed, the shock of it all.

Before I could fully react, I moved to get out of bed, but Sabo was quicker. With one hand, he grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. Instinctively, I kicked back, but he was already prepared. In a swift move, he straddled me, his weight holding me down.

"Now, Princess, you and I both know how well I know your moves," Sabo said with a calm smile, as if this was all some kind of game to him. He placed his free hand on my hip, rubbing small circles, his touch sending an unnerving shiver through me.

“Get off me!” I shouted, still struggling beneath him.

"Just hear me out, will you?" Sabo's voice softened, trying to coax me into listening.

“Why should I?” I shot back, anger rising in my chest. “You’ve lied to me for two years, and now you want to tell me the truth?!”

“You don’t understand, Y/N, I—” Sabo began, but I cut him off, headbutting him hard enough to make him loosen his grip. Seizing the opportunity, I tried to escape, but once again, Sabo grabbed my legs and dragged me back onto the bed with surprising ease.

“You’ve still got that feisty spirit, huh?” he chuckled, effortlessly pinning me down again. His blue eyes locked with mine, unwavering as he leaned closer. "I know you want to fight me right now, but just hear me out. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

His words hung in the air as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, then slowly trailing down to my neck. My body betrayed me, an involuntary moan escaping as he hit a sensitive spot.

Sabo smirked at my reaction. "I see you're still sensitive there." His tone was teasing, but his eyes held something deeper, something serious.

“What do you want, Sabo? Who the hell are you?” I asked breathlessly, still pinned under his weight.

“Well, are you going to relax so I can explain,” he teased, his face inches from mine, “or are you going to try and headbutt me again?”

His smile was both infuriating and disarming, and I could feel my resolve wavering as I debated whether to fight him or finally let him speak. Slowly, I began to relax, though my guard was still up. I looked at Sabo, narrowing my eyes. "Okay, fine! Talk!" I snapped, my voice betraying a mix of frustration and curiosity.

Sabo’s expression softened, relief briefly crossing his face before he began. “I’m the Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army. My boss is Dragon, who just so happens to be Luffy’s father, Your captain, Luffy happens to be my brother also.”

I felt my heart skip a beat at that. Luffy’s dad? What else had I missed? But Sabo kept going, gauging my reaction carefully.

“The reason I was on that island,” he continued, “was to gather intel for Dragon. I had to create that fake persona, Y/N, but you have to believe me—everything we shared, everything we did, that was real.” His voice trembled slightly, and I could see the weight of his words in his eyes.

“Why lie to me?” I whispered, my voice breaking as emotion started to well up. “Why did you pretend to be someone else?” Tears stung my eyes, the weight of the two years we had spent together crashing down on me. It felt like mourning someone I thought I knew—a person who didn’t even exist.

Sabo reached out and gently caressed my cheek, his touch soft but filled with regret. “I had no choice but to create that identity... But I swear, I never lied about how I felt. Everything between us was real.”

My breath hitched. “Is that why… you never came to send me off when my two years were done?” I asked, my voice cracking. His absence had haunted me, and now I knew why.

“Yes,” Sabo admitted, his gaze never leaving mine. “Once you left, I had to return to my mission. I couldn’t risk being exposed.”

He slowly released my wrists, sensing that I had calmed down, though he remained straddling me. My head throbbed with all the revelations, the betrayal, and the strange lingering affection I still felt. Before I could say anything, Sabo’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked quietly, his eyes filled with guilt.

I looked at him, my heart torn in so many directions. “I…” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “I don’t hate you, Sabo. I hate that you lied to me for two years… but I don’t hate you. I still see the same person I knew back then. And I still care about you.”

His expression softened, and without warning, he leaned down, pulling me into a tight hug. His face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, and the soft feel of his blond waves brushing against my skin made me giggle. “Sabo,” I laughed, the sound unintentional but welcome.

Sabo pulled back slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face before he kissed my neck again, his lips lingering. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I cursed my body for betraying me again.

“Sabo,” I gasped, the sound of his name slipping out before I could stop it.

His lips hovered near my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice dripping with desire as he continued his attack on my neck, his kisses growing bolder.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, causing a low groan to escape him. The sound sent a shiver down my spine. 

I tugged at his hair again, feeling the heat between us rise, and Sabo let out another low groan, the sound vibrating through me. His lips found mine, soft at first but filled with something deeper, something he was trying to convey with every kiss. I pulled him closer, feeling the tension building, my body pressing against his as his hands moved expertly to unbutton his shirt. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing the toned muscles I had only imagined touching before. My hands roamed his chest and arms, exploring every inch of him as our lips locked in a passionate kiss.

A moan escaped me, and Sabo was the first to break away, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads pressed together. My hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under my fingertips. His voice was low, husky with desire. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited to kiss you again," he whispered, his breath ghosting over my lips before he leaned in to place a soft peck on them.

I couldn’t resist teasing him, a playful smirk forming on my lips. "Is that so?" I murmured, my fingers trailing down his chest with slow, deliberate movements, causing his muscles to tense under my touch. “You seem a bit eager, Sabo.”

His eyes darkened, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Eager, huh? You think I can’t handle a little teasing?” His hand slid down to my waist, pulling me closer as his lips brushed against my ear. “You forget how well I know you.”

I bit my lip, stifling another moan as he nibbled at my earlobe. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” I whispered back, leaning in to kiss his neck, lingering just enough to make him groan again. My hands explored his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as I pressed soft kisses down his throat, each one a deliberate tease.

Sabo chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening. “Careful, princess,” he whispered, his voice dripping with that familiar mischievous tone. “You might regret teasing me like this.”

I smirked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Maybe I’m counting on it.”

In a swift motion, he flipped us over, and I was straddling him, my back exposed through the open slit of my dress. His hands explored the bare skin on my back, sending a wave of heat through me.

Sabo pulled me closer, his lips finding my neck again. Each kiss was a tantalizing mix of affection and desire. “My brother is lucky to have you in his crew,” he murmured between kisses. “What I wouldn’t give to have you with me in the Revolutionary Army.”

His words were like a burning ember against my skin, making me gasp. “Luffy?!” I exclaimed, my mind racing. “Oh my gosh, how long has it been?! My crew—”

I tried to get up, but Sabo’s grip on my wrists tightened. “I need to go!” I urged, the urgency clear in my voice. “I have to find Luffy and the others!”

Sabo’s expression shifted from playful to serious. He stood up, pulling on his shirt as he spoke. “Before you go, you need to know something. You have to get to the Colosseum. There's something happening there that you can’t miss.”

I handed him his shirt, feeling frustration and concern building up inside me. “Sabo, this isn’t a joking matter!” I said, my voice tinged with desperation. “My crew needs me!”

He took a step closer, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You’re still as adorable as ever,” he said softly. “Go, find Luffy and the others. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Without another word, I dashed out the door, my heart pounding with a mix of worry and anticipation. Sabo’s chuckle echoed behind me, slowly fading into the clamor of the bustling crowd. I had no time to lose—I had to find my crew and get to the Colosseum before it was too late.

.

.

.

.

[eldritch-spouse]

Pinnie I want Lacai to give me kissing lessons (I'm a virgin who's never been kissed even though I'm in my 20s it's so embarrassing)

[Oh shut it, things will happen when they're supposed to happen, jfc. Fem reader. Also, terrible idea as a whole.]

TW: Dubcon.

Boy, he lucked out. Lacai really got lucky this time.

See, when Lord Vesper spends a little more time in the surface than usual, Lacai is allowed to wander. On a bit of a tight leash, but wander nonetheless. And when Lacai's crafty, when luck favors him, he can mingle with the perfect crowds.

What he didn't expect however, was to find someone amongst the crowds like you this time. A virgin. Cute, shy little thing. The type of human concubi in Lust would lick their lips at and claw each other over. He can picture it now, demons of all ranks circling around your helpless form like sharks in a tank, bloodshed and frenzied arousal, tugging at your clothes, groping, biting- You'd be ruined.

Which makes the impcubus all the more giddy to have you all to himself.

Lacai is shorter than you, and yet, when he first approached you, you nearly jumped out of your skin. He could hear your poor heart thunder against its ribcage, a hint of immediate desire muffled by the scent of great panic.

He had to beckon you somewhere quieter, hidden, to be able to have a real conversation with you, bring you out of your shell. This careful process is one that not all of his kin have patience or time for, but Lacai is no stranger to it, enjoying getting to know some of his meals on a deeper level. And besides, virgins should be treated with care. If he is to be your guide into shared carnality, then he must make more than a good impression.

Conversation flowed surprisingly easily between you two, gentle laughter and awe from your part as the imp regaled you with happenings from his home, his work. Most of them scandalous in some way or another... And, as time passed, the fear you exhibited started to melt, your tense shoulders relaxed, those small hints of want starting to grow into genuine thirst. Lacai himself blushed, the pull of a soul yet to experience sex being stronger on those of low-rank, he perspired faintly.

Without him even having to steer the topic too much, you eventually brought up your inexperience, your desire to experience things you claim most people your age already have. It struck him as a bit silly that you were complaining about it as if you were in a race to the finish line -When really these first experiences ought to not be rushed- But fiend that he is, Lacai was very quick to assure you that such a simple request could become reality.

You wanted experience?

You wanted a kiss from someone who's embraced many a lover before?

He'd do that for you.

It seems, much to his fortune, that sexuality isn't the only thing you are inexperienced in. Because anyone who has ever dealt with demons would think twice before accepting a transaction disguised as a favor.

You didn't.

You were as blind as a bat, seeing only your goals within reach, and not the teeth behind Lacai's smirk as he rested a hand on your cheek.

And so, committed to this, perhaps endeared by you, the dance started. With the servant of Lust setting up a specific time and place where the two of you meet, and he helps you "practice".

Truth be told, Lacai is getting a little too fond of these moments. Seeing the way your eyes light up with joy at the sight of him, how you shrink slightly in yourself but always manage some sort of cheeky greeting, your attention and the way you hang off his every motion is a sweet respite from his duties back in the Rings. Even if these moments are too wholesome for his tastes, leave him dreadfully famished by the end, Lacai finds them to be worth it. Because they're part of the game. Because he...

He's grown to like you. More than that, truly.

Which is interesting, he'd always thought himself a little too hedonistic to humor the idea of genuine love, something that isn't fleeting. The imp doesn't know where this is going, but he does know he wants to be a part of it.

He can dwell on it later, when he's not claiming your lips.

You were never a bad kisser. Timid, for sure, barely ghosting across his in your fear of upsetting Lacai, but not bad.

In fact, it's never been hard to sway you into the right movement. The way you're so responsive paired with his natural sensuality, the drunkenness of need, it all makes this learning process a lot easier than you were probably expecting it to be.

Every night you meet, Lacai takes it just a bit further. However much you're willing to humor.

It didn't take too long for him to be slipping his tongue into your mouth the same way he does now, playful yet full of fervor, every one of your explorative motions rewarded with more of his intensity and an encouraging moan.

A kiss from an incubus is a trap. A weapon. A deadly seal coated in saccharine promises you're too flustered to question. It's the lure that makes you set your foot in a bear trap with a smile on your face. All the tastes you've ever loved you shall find on his tongue and all the pleasures you've yearned for will manifest in your mind. To you, it's an unstoppable force.

You were never able to kiss him once and stop, as expected. From day one, you'd always follow when he would pull away, more for your sake than his. And he always took the care to stop when he thought you'd had enough to be kept wanton and anticipating the next time.

Lately though, it's getting harder to do such. Because the further Lacai lets himself go, the more he indulges you, the less willing he is to leave you- To leave a meal worth writing home about after sampling but the very tip of it. Painful.

" You're getting better. "

The impcubus praises as you part, having allowed you to take initiative just to see how far things had gotten. And while yes, you had made a lot of progress, swiftly on your way to becoming a better kisser than most humans- Most of his rabid enjoyment came from your touch, from the fantasies he keeps conjuring of you putting your lips elsewhere.

" You- You think so? "

The demon nods eagerly, a hand on the back of your head bringing you forward to lick the sheen off your lips, bite at your bottom one. His breathing was quick but yours came faster, it was something of an open secret that neither of you were doing this for the sake of learning anymore.

The next kiss is rougher courtesy of his excitement, but you can handle it, he's made sure of it. It's nothing new, even as his clawed fingers drift to your neck, tracing your throat and darting to your sides, hungrily groping, pulling you closer. A growl of his has you shivering just the way Lacai likes it, and he wonders for how much longer he can keep things tame.

His drool starts taking, as it always does.

Pretty eyes turn glassy, you nearly sway in his grasp, overheated, disoriented. You lean onto his pervy fondling and Lacai purrs his delight openly. A stream of soft, almost pleading noises dies muffled on his tongue, and he has to tense his every muscle not to throw you to the ground, show you what lies beyond hidden kisses- Make you feel it all firsthand, fuck you over and over and over and over so that you learn to be the very best. Trained by Vesper's head servant. Trained to be a fine example of his Ring's standards.

Lacai's greedy left hand finishes its trip up your thigh by dipping between your legs. The touch alone, even through your pants, is enough to sober you up some. When your legs try to close around his hand, either to trap it there or in a futile effort to remove it, he grins and presses harder against your core, another desperate gasp falling out of your slightly swollen lips.

" Mm, what's that face for? " He teases when you offer him a scandalized look.

" It's not all just kissing, you know honeybee? "

Lacai takes advantage of your contemplative silence to move his fingers towards your zipper, pulling it down playfully.

" What are you going to do when you want to move onto the next steps? I can help you prepare for that... "

" And then I can teach you how to touch others. " The concubus huddles closer, nearly panting. " After all, you have so much to learn... "

[emperordinozenmon]

Hybrid Theory II

Puppy love

Happy belated Jihyo Day

Koby had zero intention of going to a party tonight.

And yet, here he was.

It had started with a small lie—he told Sakura and Mina he was busy when they first asked. They called bullshit almost immediately. Then they showed up at his place, grabbed him by the arms, and, before he even processed what was happening, he was in the backseat of Mina’s car, headed straight for some warehouse-turned-party-venue in the city.

Now, standing in the middle of a packed room full of laughing, drinking, and dancing hybrids, Koby took a slow sip from the root beer Mina shoved into his hand the moment they arrived. His ears twitched at the heavy bass thudding through the floor, the scent of different species mingling in the air. He would occasionally scratch his antlers to soothe his nerves.

“I hate both of you,” he muttered.

Mina, who was practically vibrating with excitement, grinned up at him. “You love us.”

Sakura, far more composed, smirked as she leaned against the bar beside him. “Just try to enjoy yourself. We’ll even let you brood in a corner after you say hi to Jihyo.”

Koby exhaled through his nose. “I don’t brood,” the girls rolled their eyes, “Right. The birthday girl.”

As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite deer in the headlights!”

Koby turned just in time to see Jihyo, the Lion hybrid, making her way through the crowd with that confident, easygoing stride of hers. She looked the same—golden eyes sharp with amusement, long hair tied back, and an aura that naturally made people either worship her or fear her.

Koby was one of the few who just was unfazed by her energy.

“Happy birthday, Jihyo,” he greeted, tilting his bottle toward her.

Jihyo smirked, punching his arm just hard enough to make a point. “Damn right, it’s happy, now that you’re here.” Jihyo hugged Koby tight and Koby hugged back. As always his warmth made her feel welcome and at peace

Sakura practically purred beside them. “Don’t thank us all at once for dragging him out.”

Mina added, “It took… effort.”

Jihyo snorted. “Sounds about right.”

Koby rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So, what’s new with you? Still, keeping these your “pack” in line? Well minus Mina since she insists on forming one with me” He nodded toward the party crowd. Jihyo and Sakura laughed while Mina rolled her eyes

Jihyo chuckled. “Something like that. But actually, I’ve got news.”

Koby raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the bar beside him, her golden eyes flashing playfully.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Sakura gasped dramatically. “No way.”

Sakura’s lips twitched. “Who’s the poor soul?”

Jihyo laughed. “His name’s Marley. Black Lab hybrid.”

Koby blinked. “A Lab?”

She grinned. “Yeah.”

Sakura cackled. “Oh my god, you’re dating a golden retriever in disguise?”

Jihyo grinned. “Basically. The dude is sweet as hell, loyal to the bone, and, well…” Her grin turned to tease. “Surprisingly good at keeping up.”

Koby chuckled. “You always did like a challenge.”

Jihyo shrugged, downing a shot that someone handed her before giving Koby a knowing look. “I think you’d like him. He’s got that same ‘reliable but secretly crazy’ energy you have.”

Mina hummed. “You do have a type.”

Jihyo smirked. “Maybe, but Mina you’re not better with Mr science experiment here .” She turned back to Koby. “You should meet him sometime. He’s here—probably outside, playing with the host’s dog-hybrid little brother or something.”

Koby nodded. “Yeah. I’ll meet him.”

Jihyo’s smirk softened slightly. “Good. And, hey—glad you came out tonight. You get one free pass to leave early but after that?”

Koby sighed, already sensing the trap. “What?”

She clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re staying for cake.”

Mina grinned. “And dancing!”

Sakura smirked. “And shots.”

Koby took a slow sip of his root beer.

Yeah, he thought. These women are going to be the death of me.

But, despite himself, he didn’t mind.

As the night wore on Jihyo watched as Marley wove through the crowd his soft black ears a clear indicator of where he was at any moment. She’d watch as systematically he found and befriended as many of her friends as possible.

After another round of drinks and dodging every attempt from Sakura and Mina to drag him onto the dance floor, Koby finally stepped outside for some air. The night was cool, a welcome contrast to the heat of the packed venue. The muffled bass of the party still thrummed in the background, but out here, it was quieter—calmer.

Then, he heard laughter.

Koby's ears twitched at the unmistakable sound of someone playing around like an overgrown puppy. He turned the corner and spotted a tall, broad-shouldered guy tossing a football back and forth with a younger dog hybrid. His dark, wavy hair was a little messy, and his tail wagged enthusiastically behind him as he caught the ball with ease.

That must be him.

Jihyo’s Black Lab.

The guy must have noticed him watching because, in the next second, he handed the ball to the kid, murmured something, and jogged over.

Koby straightened, sizing him up automatically. Marley was big—not as big as Koby, but solidly built, with an easy-going energy that felt damn near unshakable. His scent was warm, familiar, and exactly what you’d expect from a Lab hybrid—loyalty, comfort, and just a hint of wild energy beneath the surface.

“You must be Koby,” Marley said, a grin already pulling at his lips. “Jihyo talks about you a lot.”

Koby arched a brow. “Really? That so?”

Marley nodded. “Yep. All good things, don’t worry. Mostly about how you’re the only guy she’s met who can match her tit for tat and keep up with her attitude.”

Koby smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Marley chuckled, crossing his arms. “She’s got a lot of respect for you.”

Koby studied him for a moment, then asked, “So, how’d you end up with her?”

Marley grinned like he had been expecting that question. “Honestly? I just kept showing up.” He shrugged. “Jihyo’s used to people trying to impress her or prove they can handle her. I didn’t try to do either. I just liked her. So I stayed.”

Koby raised an eyebrow as he huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s it?”

Marley tilted his head. “That’s everything, isn’t it?”

Koby’s smirk lingered. He liked this guy. There was something undeniably genuine about him, something steady in a way that made perfect sense for Jihyo.

“She says you’re one of her closest friends,” Marley added. “That means you’re important to her, which makes you important to me.”

Koby blinked. That was… unexpected.

Before he could respond, Marley grinned again and slapped a hand on his shoulder—like they were already friends. “So, what do you think? Am I good enough for her?”

Koby let out a slow exhale, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. I think you are.”

Marley beamed. “Good! Because even if you said no, I’d still be sticking around.”

Koby chuckled. “Figures.”

Marley laughed, then jerked his head toward the venue. “C’mon. You should come back in before Jihyo hunts you down.”

Koby rolled his eyes but followed. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he and Marley crossed paths—and, strangely enough, he didn’t mind.

After the party The night air was crisp as Jihyo unlocked the front door to her apartment, her body still buzzing with the warmth of the party. Marley stood behind her, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his tail swaying lazily as he watched her with an easy smile.

“That was a good party,” he said, his deep voice laced with satisfaction. “Your friends are wild, though.”

Jihyo snorted, pushing the door open. “You mean Koby is wild.”

Marley chuckled as he followed her inside, shutting the door behind them. “Huh, you sure. He was calmer than half the guests.”

Jihyo smiled knowingly, “It’s because his two handlers were there. They keep him on a tight leash,

Marley nodded listening to Jihyo with an earnest intensity. Jihyo smiled of course.

She tossed her purse onto the entryway table and stretched, rolling her shoulders. “Yeah, but you held your own.”

“Of course I did.” Marley flashed her a grin, stepping up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist. “Had to impress the birthday girl.”

Jihyo smirked, leaning back into him. “Mmm, and you did. But I do recall you getting a little flustered when Chaeyoung started grilling you about our first date.”

Marley groaned dramatically. “I was not flustered. I just wasn’t expecting an interrogation at the dinner table.”

Jihyo laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “That’s what happens when you date me—you gotta survive my pack.”

Marley’s dark eyes softened as he studied her, his hands settling on her hips. “Worth it.”

She blinked, her smirk faltering slightly at the way he said it—so simple, so sure.

Her heart did a little flip.

“You’re such a sap,” she muttered, but her fingers were already curling into his jacket.

Marley grinned. “Only for you, birthday girl.”

Before she could roll her eyes, he leaned down and kissed her—slow, deep, and just the right amount of teasing.

Jihyo melted into it, gripping the front of his jacket tighter as she pulled him closer.

Yeah.

This was a good birthday.

They ventured home elated by the time they shared but also happy to finally have some time to themselves.

“So pretty kitty (Marley’s pet name for Jihyo) how was the party?” Jihyo smiled and said

“I loved it. I was glad you were able to meet and have fun with so many of your friends,”

Jihyo smiled and said, “Good!”

[gracev0609]

Young in the Night

Josh Kiszka X Reader

Journey back in time to 1982, to an Alternate Universe where Josh is at the epicenter of debauchery and excess. Josh is an entertainer at the hottest new thing on the block, Chippendales, the place for women to drool and ogle.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Adult Themes, Drug Use (cocaine), Explicit Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Tugging your cropped leather jacket closer to your torso as you wait in line, your skimpy outfit is not doing much to block the chill from the cool evening air. You gazed up at the neon sign through your teased bangs. The summer of 1982 was coming to an end and you were standing in line with your best friend Marie at the hottest thing in the city of Los Angeles for women, Chippendales.

“Do you think the dancers actually kiss the girls?,” Marie asked leaning in.

“That's what I've heard!,” you giggled, silently hoping to receive a kiss yourself.

The line moved up until you were in front of the doorman. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you stand in front of the door, uncertain in what lies ahead.

“Alright, you're next! Have a good time ladies!”

The heavy door opened and you were met with colorful lights and the hottest music playing, hundreds of seats sitting around a lit stage. Over on one side was a bar, the first sight you were set on. Grabbing Marie's hand you drug her with, eager to get a tequila sunrise on your hands.

You exchanged cash for your cocktails and went to find a seat, surprisingly you found two in the front row, being the second group to be let inside. The seating was filling up fast, from front seats to back.

The club started to fill and the lights got low, Marie gripped onto your forearm,” Oh I think it's starting!”

A man came out onto the stage, black dress pants, suspenders and no shirt,” Good evening ladies! My name is Mark, and I'll be your host tonight! Welcome to Chippendales, you're in for a night of hunky splendor!”

A tall tan man with blonde hair graced the stage, he was dancing around in the smallest shorts you had ever seen, a collared bowtie around his neck, and little cufflinks around his wrists like wrist bands. It was a play on the playboy bunny, but it worked. He shimmied and shaked working the crowd. You laughed as Marie reached out for him, waving a dollar bill around like a flag,” He's so cute!”

You thought he was an attractive man undoubtedly, but he didn't really do it for you.

He wiggled his way over to where the two of you sat, his hips gyrating in Marie's face.

“Hi sweetheart, do you wanna kiss?” He leaned over Marie as she nodded her head and you watched in awe as they locked lips like passionate lovers.

He pulled away and strutted around the stage, Marie looked at you with red rosy cheeks,” Oh my god!”

The crowd was roaring and your ears were practically ringing, the host speaks into the microphone again,” That was the Perfect Man ladies! Let's give him a huge thank you!”

The women around you went wild as you clapped, not quite understanding what they all saw in him. He was just a man, cute, but just a man. You could admit that the energy in the room was electric and you couldn't help but get swept up in the fun of it all. Mostly naked men parading around showing off their bodies and family jewels, it was drool worthy.

You watched a few more of the acts, some of the men had themes and costumes, some of them came out in pants and stripped down to speedos or g strings.

The host grabbed the mic once again,” Alright sweethearts, I present to you, our next act, an angel in disguise, Joshua!”

Out he came strutting the stage like he owned it, he was clad in the tiniest g string he could get away with, the infamous collared bow tie, and a pair of devil horns nestled into his funky curly mullet. You were instantly captivated by the interesting man. You studied his build, he was small, but toned. He looked strong, though not as strong as others you've seen tonight. Most of his skin was on display, the gleam of the stage lights made his oiled skin shine. The more he danced around to the music the more you became enamored with him. The jiggle of his butt as he strutted up to the audience on the other side of the stage forced you to ogle him.

Reaching into your clutch grabbing your dollar bills you leaned into Marie,” I don't know if I've ever seen a man have more ass!”

He swayed his hips, moving to the side of the stage you were at. When he stopped directly in front of you, his barely clothed package inches away from your face, a deep blush rose on your cheeks.

He squatted down so you were face to face, plucking the dollar from your fingers. Your breath caught in your throat as you really saw his face, he had the biggest softest brown eyes, a perfect white smile, and rosy red cheeks. He was slightly sweaty from gyrating around on stage, but that just added to his sex appeal.

Josh bit his lip before releasing it, his bottom lip plump and slick. Purring he crooned,” Hi Angel. D’ya want a kiss?”

You've never wanted a kiss from a man in devil horns more, nodding your head you leaned in and slipped your hands into his curls at the nape of his neck. When his soft pink lips met yours you almost swore you felt a spark of electricity, but that could be the tequila sunrise talking. You felt his tongue lick across your bottom lip, and tingles shot to your core. Easily you opened up for the performer, moaning lightly when his tongue danced with yours.

The kiss kept going on and on. The music kept playing, the girls kept screaming , and Josh kept kissing you. He had your jaw gripped in his hand, and yours traveled down the length of his torso, squeezing his pecs before landing on his hips. The elastic of his g string resting at your fingertips. You kept thinking that now was when he was going to disconnect from you, but if anything he leaned into you more. The kissing went on for so long that Mark the host came back on over the speakers,” Okay Joshua, angel in disguise, your time has ended! Wrap up your act!”

Josh finally ended the kiss,” If ya wanna go home with me, wait for me after the show.”

🎀🎀🎀

The club lights came up and the women started emptying out, the show was over but the bar was still active. You turned to Marie,” I'm gonna go home with him! I'll call you when I get home okay!”

“Okay babe! I'll leave the phone cord plugged in tonight so I hear the call!”

You hugged her goodbye and sat back down in your seat, sipping on a fresh tequila sunrise. It took you a second to recognize the man who had now come to stand in front of you, it was Joshua, but he was wearing clothes now. He had on white sneakers, light wash blue jeans, and a blue short sleeve button up, unbuttoned of course. “Hi Angel. I see you've made up your mind.”

“Hi Joshua. I did make up my mind.”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet,”Please call me Josh.”

He laces your fingers together and leads you out the front door of the club.

“I don't live far!” He squeezed your hand in his as you walked shoulder to shoulder on the LA sidewalk.

“I really enjoyed the show Josh! Your act especially,” You beamed,” It was my first time at Chippendales!”

He smiles down at you, this time you notice a slight gap between his front teeth,” I'm so glad Angel.”

“My name is Y/N, just so you know.”

One side of his smile quirks up,” Y/N…. I think I prefer Angel for tonight.”

You blushed feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Soon you arrived at his front door, you stood behind him as he fished the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

Feeling your eyes widen in surprise, he must be making a lot of money from the club. His home had beautiful new modern furniture. He led you to his couch before pulling you into his lap. Your skirt rode up your hips and you straddled his thighs, your lips connecting again. Josh wasted no time running his hands up and down your body, his light touches making your nipples harden under your shirt.

Your hands wander his soft torso once against, and he leans in and kisses up your neck nibbling at your ear.

“Want some blow?” Josh cooes breathlessly.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, you've done it before, at a club with Marie.

“Just a bump.”

“Mmhmm.”

Josh lightly nips at the skin of your neck before lifting your shirt off your body, your bare breasts bouncing in his face.

“Heavenly” he breathes, placing your nipple in his hot waiting mouth. Back arching into his touch you moan his name. You grind your hips down into his hard on, making him moan out too.

Panting he disconnected from your chest and leans down, his hand placed on your back supporting your weight as he bends.

He retries a glass tray, blade and a baggie of white powder.

You wiggle your hips in his lap as he prepares your indulgence.

“God I'm so hard. Have you ever had sex on this? It's incredible.”

“I haven't, I've only taken it in the club.”

You hear the metal blade scraping on glass,” Are you sure you just want a bump? You can have more if you want more.”

You turn in his grasp to look at the tray, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit.

“I’ll do a line with you.” You whisper rocking your hips into him.

Josh kisses your cheek before separating the substance into two lines. He picks up the tray, placing it in your hands to hold as he gets the straw. Holding it to his face he leans down and inhales. Lifting his head his eyes flutter closed as his nose scrunches. After a few seconds he opens them, handing you the straw and taking the glass tray so you can partake. Leaning down you mirror his actions, also scrunching your nose at the uncomfortable feeling.

He places the paraphernalia back on the coffee table in front of him, and grabs your hips pulling them down onto his aching cock. Losing your patience you climb off of him and discard the rest of your clothing.

“Eager are we baby?” Josh chuckles following suit and removing his jeans and underwear. Feeling the effects of the blow your jaw drops at the sight of his cock. It's pretty. He's thick and pulsing, the head flushed a deep red. Your slick threatening to drip down your thigh, you place yourself back into his lap. His cock slips in between your wet folds as you grind his head against your clit.

Throwing his head back he moans,” God your pussy's just drenching me.”

After a few more minutes of grinding he's begging you to let him in. You grab him hot in your hand and line him up with your entrance.

‘Go slow Angel, stretch that tight cunt for me.”

The feeling of him in you was indescribable, euphoria tingling within your body. He felt so good. After a few minutes of bouncing he lifted you off of him.

“Wanna switch, put your ass up for me.”

You did as you were told, leaning your forearms down onto his green couch. He shuddered when he ran the tip of his cock through your slick again. You were so turned on you weren't sure if you had ever been so wet, it was all over your thighs.

Softly he nudges his way back in you, his sensitive head nestled against your g spot. His hips drive forward and you yelp at the sensation. Everything is so intense and pleasurable, you weren't sure if you'd ever had sex this good before. With his rhythmic push and pull of his cock against your special spot you felt that familiar feeling bubbling up in your stomach.A man had never made you cum before, especially not with just his cock.

“Josh, I'm getting close. I'm - I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum for me Y/N. Fuck, do I wanna feel it.”

You were in disbelief at how alive this sinful specimen of a man could make you feel.

Your high came crashing down on you as you clenched and fluttered around his cock. You gushed and gushed as he abused your insides.

You could hear grunts of praise as he fucked you through it,” Angel. I'm gonna cum. Are you on the pill baby?”

“Uhhuh!”

“Can I cum inside love?”

“Please Josh, ruin me!”

He gripped your hips even tighter, pounding into your tight heat. You felt him get even harder, swelling inside of you before spurting his warm cum painting your insides.

“Fuck! Fuck I'm still cumming,” he gasps out.

You could feel him throbbing and twitching pumping out small dribbles of cum as his orgasm dwindled.

Once he catches his breath he pulls out gently. You stay still propped up on your arms and knees .

“Just sit down love, we already ruined the upholstery.”

You chuckled, settling back down on the cushions, you laid your head on Josh's shoulder as you came down from all of your highs.

Josh pulls you into his body, eager for some skin to skin contact, “Oh to be young in the night, huh?”

[missmoreau]

Regulus x Reader

Warnings: fluff, AI generated, Hogwarts AU

I claim absolutely no right to this work as it was created with the help of AI. It was simply a sweet story that I wanted more people to enjoy. I lacked the ability to bring my dreamed story to life, so I used a tool to bring this to y’all.

AI prompt : « Write a Regulus Black x reader fan fiction where they have been married since two years after regulus disappeared. Reader is a muggle, and they both decided it was best that regulus pretended to be a muggle. They have a son that is one year younger than Harry Potter, and a daughter who is two years younger than their son. Set the story as when they are going to Diagon alley to buy their sons school supplies for his first year at hogwarts, and regulus has to wear a disguise so he can accompany them as no wizard except snape knows he is alive.« 

The sun was barely up, casting a soft light over Diagon Alley as you, Regulus, and your two children made your way through the cobbled street. Your son, Altair, had been up since dawn, practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of starting his first year at Hogwarts. Your daughter, Lyra, trailed behind, clutching her father’s hand with a sleepy gaze.

Regulus wore an unassuming brown hat low over his forehead, and he’d charmed his eyes to a dull shade of blue. It was the best he could do for a disguise that would hold through the morning. Though he’d lived as a muggle for years now, the magic never truly left him. Every so often, his fingertips would itch for the feeling of a wand, and a small flicker of longing would settle in his chest. But he kept that part of him hidden—for you, for the children, for the life you’d built together.

“Is this it?” Altair asked, his eyes wide as they roamed over the towering shops and bustling witches and wizards.

“This is it,” Regulus replied, smiling. His voice was soft, as if speaking too loudly might draw attention. “It’s a bit… lively,” he added with a chuckle, nudging Altair forward.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Though you’d only known the wizarding world through him, you’d grown to love its peculiarities and mysteries. But stepping into it as a family like this, knowing Regulus was here under a mask—literally and figuratively—was a careful dance between joy and nerves.

As the four of you moved through the crowd, you could feel eyes drifting your way, likely recognizing the unfamiliar faces. Diagon Alley was close-knit; newcomers were always noticed. Regulus pulled his hat down lower.

“Alright,” you said, trying to keep things casual, “why don’t we start with a wand?”

Altair’s face lit up, and you saw Regulus’s expression soften with pride as he followed you into Ollivanders. The tiny shop was filled with dust-covered boxes stacked to the ceiling, and an elderly man with piercing, knowing eyes looked up as you entered.

“Ah, first-year, are we?” Ollivander asked Altair, his gaze shifting to Regulus with an unreadable glint.

“Yes, sir,” Altair said, stepping forward.

Regulus released Lyra’s hand and stood near the back, blending into the shadows. Ollivander’s eyes drifted over him for a second longer than you liked, and you felt Regulus tense beside you. You placed a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to ease.

“Hold out your wand arm,” Ollivander instructed Altair, who did so eagerly.

Regulus watched with a mix of pride and nostalgia. It had been so long since he’d been part of this world. You knew he missed it, even though he rarely said so. But watching Altair find his place in it… it seemed worth all the secrecy, the disguises, the life of muggle simplicity you both had built.

After a few tries, a wand chose Altair, and he beamed up at Regulus. “Dad! Look!”

“Perfect,” Regulus said, his voice warm with pride, though it was barely above a whisper. “I knew it would be that one.”

The moment passed quietly, but you saw the small glimmer in his eyes. This was his world, too, even if he could only live on the outskirts of it.

As you exited the shop, Lyra tugged on Regulus’s hand, pointing toward Flourish and Blotts. “Books, Daddy! For school!”

“Of course, little one,” Regulus said, scooping her up as you and Altair entered the bookstore.

Inside, he kept close, casting quick glances around as you browsed the shelves. Altair picked out the required books, and Regulus whispered suggestions in his ear about which editions might be best. They shared a quiet moment, father and son, and you could tell it meant the world to both of them.

Just as you were gathering the last few items, you caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye. A familiar, dark figure had entered the shop—Snape. You tensed, instinctively moving closer to Regulus and Lyra. Snape, however, gave only the faintest nod in Regulus’s direction, a silent promise of secrecy, and moved on.

Once outside, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Regulus looked at you, concern softening his features.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yes. It’s just… I worry. I worry every time we come here that someone might see you, that—”

“It’s alright,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around you. “This is worth it. For them, for us. I’d do it a thousand times over.”

Altair and Lyra skipped ahead, laughing together as they debated which magical creatures might be the most terrifying. Regulus’s gaze lingered on them, a warmth and determination in his eyes.

For a moment, you both stood there, watching them. The world, with all its magic and danger, seemed so small in comparison to this. Regulus pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And as the sun rose higher, casting a golden light over Diagon Alley, you knew that someday the truth about Regulus would come out, but for now this moment with your family was all that mattered.

[idolish7imagines]

hii um can i rq yamato or mitsuki having their first kiss w the reader in a (different unit/band?) concert. uhhh character paid for his ticket but reader got in bcz theyre a photographer n stuff…. ty…

Izumi Mitsuki x Reader :: Capturing a Kiss through a Lens

Typically Mitsuki would like to spend his day off cooking, relaxing, or having a casual night out drinking, but tonight was a different story.

Tonight he'd agreed to go with MEZZO'' boys to see an indie band that both Sogo and Momo had previously reccommended, and since he didn't feel like being a couch potato or practicing some dances at the dorm, he figured it'd be a good night to go since the tickets weren't pricey.

He just wanted to see what the hype about...and also you saying you'd be attending might've been a factor.

"Mikki is only here because (Y/N)-chan is going!" is a complaint Tamaki had been toting with them from the moment they got in the car to the start of the concert.

There was a nice crowd, but nothing that'd get the venue feeling stuffy, so that was nice. The boys would obviously have to be wearing disguises as to not get spotted and more importantly, not take attention away from the actual performers.

His attention is quickly turning to Tamaki suddenly chiming up and excitedly waving his hand in the air, your name being yelled loud enough to ring through the admiteddly small venue.

Sogo quickly raises up a hand toward his mouth to silence him (which was hard enough considering they were all wearing masks) as to not direct any unwanted gazes your way, you were already a photographer so thats noticible enough on its own.

Mitsuki meanwhile, feels his body become a bit warmer as you make your way over to the group, a casual yet knowing smile gracing your features. He can't even hide his smile, feeling as if anyone looked his way they'd practically see it even through his mask.

You exchange your greetings to everyone and explain why you were there, to which they all listen despite the noise all around them that could easily drown the conversation out.

"Well, sorry to bother you while you're on the clock." Mitsuki says, but by the tone you can tell there's a little tease in it.

"Don't worry about me, I can enjoy the concert and look for good angles and the same time." You reply a bit smugly.

"I guess that's a formidable photographer for ya." He reaches back to rub his neck. You didn't miss that he bothered to compliment you. "I assume you'll be moving around a bit then though, instead of standing by us." A small laugh escapes you, one that has his heart beating a bit faster upon hearing.

"I'll be back around, don't worry." .::.

The speakers were nearly at max volume, filling the venue (and outside of it) with the melodic sounds of the indie band. Penlights weren't really a thing in this scene, but people did raise their hands, something Tamaki quickly caught onto and joined. Sogo was a bit more reserved as always, but the sparkle in his eye when hearing music he enjoys wasn't missed.

Mitsuki himself had joined in on the hype, the energy of the room was infectious, as it should be at a concert.

So much so in fact, he nearly forgot that you were moving around the venue taking pictures. Your camera's flash wasn't on, making it much more discreet and less disruptive to the audience.

You nearly scare him as you quietly slipped by his side again, only seeing you at the corner of his bright orange irises.

Which, unbeknownst to him, you'd been looking into before he even fully turned to you.

Even in the ever-changing hues of the room with the mood lights above, you'd never mistake the color of those eyes and hair.

Wrapped up in your trancelike line of thought, you hadn't even realized he'd pulled his mask down, apparently asking you something judging by his expression. He'd likely thought you hadn't heard him the first time since he felt the need to take the mask off.

Feeling bad you hadn't heard him, you lean in closer so he could repeat himself.

His cheeks seemed a bit flushed and his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn't back away.

"Are...you enjoying the concert?" You could hear him more, but could telll he was going out of his way to not yell in your face despite the music and audience noise since you were already in close proximity.

"Oh...yeah.." You say. Directly after the words left you, you were worried your voice was a bit too low for him to hear.

Though, seeing his adorable smile return to his face, you quickly could tell otherwise.

"I'm glad." He says. Your faces still being inches away from each other..perhaps even closer than you'd started.

"...Mitsuki?" His name comes out a bit more vulnerable sounding than you'd intended.

"yeah?"

Maybe it was the music that had the both of your adrenaline pumping more than usual, and with that, usually came more risk taking.

And yes, maybe it would've been better to get proper clarification, but the looks you and he were giving each other, and the fact neither of you bothered to distance yourselves..

Soon, you find the sweet sensation of Mitsuki's lips on yours, sending electricity through your bodies. His fingers soon found a place upon your cheek, resting there gently.

Thankfully his fellow group members were too immersed in the spectacle in front of them to notice. This would be awkward to explain on the way back to the dorm.

As your lips part, your eyes flutter open to meet his once more.

He certainly won't be leaving with Tamaki and Sogo tonight, thats for sure.

[tgrailwar-zero]

Constantine…

We’ll make you proud.

Right. Onward and upward.

You sat up, and pushed yourself out of bed. It was much, much easier this time. Still a little bit sore, but not as bad as it was before.

You sent out a text that seemed to put together most of your sentiments, before stepping outside.

There was the disorienting feeling of expecting light, but being faced with darkness.

It was still night, but you could hear and see a lot of movement throughout the encampment. Plenty of Solar Cell natives going about, chatting, eating, drinking- though most of them were crowded around a small makeshift theater where a performance was occurring.

It was kabuki theater. There were two actors. An woman with a slight, youthful frame, and a truly hulking, massive man in armor.

It was a performance, that as far as you could tell from coming in halfway through, about a trickster spirit that had heard tale of a contest to become the next emperor. So, the spirit, wanting to become Emperor simply because his stomach growled in hunger at the same time he saw the Emperor indulging in a large feast, got involved. Then came a deluge of witticisms and trickery,

The performance was strongly satirical and comedic, you could tell that much. The weight and volume of the actress' voice, much louder and commanding than her small form belied, conveyed almost all of the dialogue. The man she was accompanied with made large exclamations with clearly practiced timing but never truly spoke a full sentence, and you heard raucous laughter from the crowd. Their movements and dances were powerful and energetic, and the air around the encampment felt electric.

It was a rather involved performance, especially considering there were only two actors. But scenes changed seamlessly, and they both seemed to have enough physical presence that even if one of them switched characters on the fly, you could keep up rather easily. They seemed to be used to this, and employed a great number of tricks of their own that made it seem like there were more than just the two of them on the stage- 'they were just the only ones visible', that was the lie they got the audience to believe, but no- it was just them, you were sure of it.

The performance ended on a cliffhanger. The spirit, disguised as a courtesan, had just snuck into the Imperial Palace… and then the young woman declared that they would finish the show tomorrow night, and the crowd expressed good-natured disappointment. She bowed, the giant man beside her bowed, and then they both stepped off the makeshift stage as the audience continued to clap for a while longer before you saw GIL take the stage.

GIL: "Your attention, everyone! If everything goes well, the Sunbeam Row should be free of curses by tomorrow evening!"

The crowd erupted into cheers.

GIL: "That is purely thanks to your efforts. So, while we will have a larger celebration when we finish this first phase, I figured that a preemptive feast would do good for motivation. Eat well. Drink well. Rest well. Your work continues in the morning, and there's much more after the curses are gone, but we have reached a major milestone."

With that, the crowd dispersed.

[hreosstuff]

MEET ME AT THE HOTEL LOBBY

DREAMCATCHER SUA X FEM READER

N.T: This was actually inspired the song 'hotel lobby' by Tobii~

The roar of the crowd still echoed in Sua’s ears, a deafening symphony of adoration. A sea of faces, all lit by the stage lights, singing along to her songs. But her focus, her entire world, had narrowed down to one face, one girl Y/N.

Y/N stood out. Not because she was particularly flashy or loud, but because of the quiet intensity in her eyes, the way she sang along with a genuine passion, not just empty idol-worship. Sua had seen thousands of faces in the crowd, but Y/N’s had burned itself onto her memory.

After the final note, as the house lights came up and the band took their bows, Sua had given the silent signal. “Find her,” she mouthed to her head of security, Li Wei.

Hours passed. The stadium emptied, the echoes faded, but Y/N remained elusive. Li Wei, looking defeated, finally reported back, "We searched everywhere, Sua. No sign of her.”

Sua felt a pang of disappointment. It wasn't just a whim. There was something about Y/N, a connection she couldn’t explain. She wasn’t used to being denied. Fans clamored for her attention, threw themselves at her feet. But you... Y/N had vanished.

Back in her lavish hotel suite, overlooking the glittering city, Sua couldn't shake the feeling. The after-party her team had arranged felt hollow, filled with forced smiles and superficial conversations. Suddenly, the idea of celebrating with a crowd felt suffocating.

She needed to find you.

That night, inspiration struck. Not a press release, not a public plea, but a song. A song coded with a secret message, a siren call only you would understand. It would be a risk, a blatant disregard for her management's pristine image of the untouchable artist, but Sua was beyond caring about that.

She grabbed her guitar, the melodies and lyrics pouring out of her in a rush. A catchy, infectious beat, disguised with a flirtatious, almost throwaway vibe. But hidden within were the coordinates, the invitation.

The next day, "Hotel Lobby" dropped on every platform. The internet exploded. Fans devoured the song, analyzing every beat, every lyric. They speculated about who the lucky "shawty" was. Memes were made, dances were choreographed, and the song climbed the charts with dizzying speed.

Sua watched, her heart pounding with each view, each like, each share. Would you hear it? Would she understand? Did she even want to be found?

Days turned into weeks. The song remained a sensation, but Y/N remained a ghost. Sua started to lose hope. Maybe she had misread the situation. Maybe Y/N wasn't interested.

Then, late one night, a soft knock echoed on her hotel suite door. Li Wei stood guard, his face a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Sua... there's a young woman downstairs. She says her name is Y/N."

Sua's breath caught in her throat. She waved Li Wei aside and practically flew to the elevator. As the doors opened onto the opulent lobby, she saw her.

You.

She looked exactly as Sua remembered, maybe even more beautiful. She was dressed simply, in jeans and a t-shirt, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes, those incredibly expressive eyes, met Sua's.

A nervous smile touched Y/N's lips. "Hi," she said, her voice soft. "I heard your song."

Sua’s jaw dropped. "You... you came."

Y/N nodded. "I figured you were talking to me." She paused, then added, "I like your music."

Sua stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The lobby seemed to fade away, the other guests blurring into insignificance.

"Just so we're clear," Sua said, her voice low and husky, "This after-party... it's just for us two, okay?"

Y/N's smile widened, a genuine, beautiful smile that lit up her entire face. "Okay," she whispered.

Sua took Y/N's hand, and together, they walked towards the elevator, the city lights reflecting in their eyes. The music faded, the crowd was forgotten. All that mattered was the silent understanding between them, a connection sparked in a sea of faces, brought together by a song and a shared desire for something real. The after-party had finally begun.

[zutaras-where-its-at]

Betrothal

korra turns up to the big event with a rip in her dress. (it’s not her fault asami practically forced her into one when she already said she would be arriving via-polar bear dog.)

she also turns up twenty minutes late, but that’s neither here nor there.

the party is in full swing despite the familiar frigid cold of the south pole, and her cheeks are prickling from the ride over. the sun is just a glowing ball of orange hovering over the snowy horizon, and korra watches as waiters turn on strings of pretty lights and light up bonfires to heat the outdoor establishment.

it’s a team avatar reunion of sorts. in fact, it may be the first time in history where two separate team avatars are present together.

she doesn’t know who managed to drag master toph out of her hobbit cave and all the way to the poles, but the gruff earthbender at least looks happy to eat her way through the snack table. next to her is the former fire lord, chatting passionately about something korra can’t make out. and a few feet from them is master katara, adorned in beautiful water tribe pelts and intricately carved whale-bones.

korra is in the middle of smoothing her unruly hair and looking for the nearest bar when a slim arm hooks in her elbow and warm lips press against her cheek.

“blue has always been your color,” asami says as she places a frosty champagne glass in korra’s hand.

korra just tugs grumpily at the hem of her long, thick skirt to try and disguise the tear that runs its way up to her mid-thigh. asami just eyes the slit with a mischievous sparkle that heats korra’s cheeks.

“yeah yeah, take a picture, princess. you won’t get me in another one of these for a long time.”

asami just laughs and begins to drag her into the growing crowd of partygoers. she catches a glimpse of tenzin dancing with his kids, mako flirting badly with a girl way out of his league, and even lin and suyin warming up by a fire.

korra is scanning the crowd to see if her mom and dad have made it in yet when asami abruptly halts next to master katara with a barely-concealed grin.

“she’s finally here!”

katara smiles warmly and wraps her surprisingly strong arms around korra’s shoulders. “i see this last year of avatar duties hasn’t made you any more punctual.”

she tries not to roll her eyes, even as she hugs her former master back. “yeah well, someone has to be consistent around here.”

“i think everyone is here, master katara. do you want to make your announcement now?” asami seems to almost vibrate in place, though korra can’t for the life of her figure out why.

katara just pats the younger woman on the cheek and shuffles to her old friends. korra watches with a quirked brow as the waterbender whispers something in the ex-fire lord’s ear, and then the two start to make their way to the front of the party.

“the hell was that about?” korra mutters, putting an arm around asami’s waist.

“oh hush,” her partner says, “you’ll see in a minute.”

and indeed, they do.

“friends and family!” zuko’s weathered voice calls out over the crowd of people. everyone quiets accordingly, bodies turning to curiously look at the old couple standing on the raised platform. the firebender clears his throat and raises an awkward hand in greeting. “thank you all for coming to this wonderful gathering today. i know many of you have travelled great distances—”

someone in the back shouts, “republic city represent!” and a few others laugh and cheer in agreement.

zuko smiles, wrinkles creasing his pale cheeks and shifting the scar across his eye. “yes, great distances indeed. we truly appreciate having you here.”

korra tries to sip at her champagne glass, but asami tuts and whispers, “wait!”

rolling her eyes again, she resigns herself to listening to the speech with a decidedly sober attitude.

“tonight is not just a celebration of family and friendship, however.” here, he pauses to look at the waterbender beside him, something passing between them that prods at korra’s intuition. “it is also to celebrate love and unity.”

asami squeezes her hand over korra’s at her waist. korra just furrows her brows.

“yes,” katara smoothly continues, a pink glow dusting her cheeks. then, she reaches down and interlaces her fingers with zuko’s. “we want to announce our engagement.”

there’s a second—a liminal moment in time—when everyone seems to freeze with the announcement, silence spreading over the room. but then, cheers erupt all around them. whoops and hollers drown out the soft music in the background, glasses are raised high in the air, and someone that sounds a lot like master toph even yells, ‘about damn time!’

but korra feels rooted into the ground.

her world seems to shift on its axis, vertigo causing her vision to narrow in on zuko and katara—studying the joy that emanates from their very beings, cataloguing the glassy shine to their eyes, noting carefully how they seem to take it all in with slow, even breaths—and suddenly, tears are streaming down her cheeks.

“thank you, thank you!” katara laughs heartily, shoulder leaning almost subconsciously into zuko’s broad chest. “we know it seems a little late, all things considered, but well—there’s no time like the present!”

“to sifu hotman and the sugar queen!” toph yells, and everyone toasts with vigor before the music starts back up enthusiastically.

“korra,” asami lightly shakes her shoulder. “are you okay?”

korra swipes hastily at the tears and snot that run down her face, then nods her head. “yeah, yeah i’m good.”

“are you sure?” asami’s concerned face swims in her vision as she takes their still full glasses and sets them aside. “i’m so sorry, i thought you’d be happy.”

she shakes her head. “i am happy. i’m—wow, fuck. i don’t know. it’s like something i didn’t even know i was worried about just got swept away. i just feel so…i feel so relieved. i don’t know why though.”

“oh,” asami says softly. then, “huh.”

“yeah,” korra garbles out, trying to blink away the last of the tears. “i don’t know. weird, right?”

“hmm,” asami answers, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “must be some sort of avatar stuff.”

from across the room, korra’s eyes meet katara’s. then zuko’s. something bittersweet—tender—settles in her heart as they exchange a glance that somehow means more than korra ever could understand. she’s learning that feelings don’t always need to be understood, though.

“yeah. yeah, it must be.”

[edenityy]

( chapter five ! )

"It's wonderful that your mother allowed you to attend the ball!"

Standing close to the refreshments table are Leah and Elizabeth, the pair adorned in extravagant dresses for the occasion. After hours of begging, Leah proved it worth it when her mother finally caved in. Elizabeth herself followed a similar strategy, though Francis seems slightly more lenient at the idea than Vivienne.

The young Barrett is dressed in a powder blue dress made of some of the highest quality fabric, bringing out the color of her eyes. Numerous small details surround the skirt as the top half is accentuated perfectly by her corset, followed by a pearl neckpiece that compliments her skin tone. Many eyes attach to her, capturing her every move through the ballroom. Brown hair also falls across her shoulders, curled at the end, and put up in a half up-half down style.

Despite having previously been upset that her mother wasn't going to be debuting her this season, Leah now appears reluctant due to the attention she gathers, "Yes.. Amazing, isn't it?" she fights back a sigh, opting to pick up a glass and sip at the liquid she's unfamiliar with.

All Leah and Elizabeth are capable of hearing is the immense chatter that fills the room, nearly drowning out their voices if they don't speak loud enough. Not far from the teenage girls stand their mothers and surprisingly, Edward, conversing while chaperoning the pair through the night's endeavors.

"Just look at all the beautiful dresses!" Elizabeth sings, hands tightly clasped together as she observes the other women in the room. Carrying herself away from Leah, she darts around the ballroom to begin interacting.

Watching her friend practically disappear before her eyes, Leah fights back another sigh, "Wait up!" Discarding the drink in her hands, the brunette begins to chase after her friend, unable to hear Edward attempting to call her back.

"I was going to ask to her dance.." Edward says with a look of defeat.

"You'll find the chance." Vivienne smiles, taking a sip from her glass of lemonade as she watches her daughter run off.

Across the room is a different story, Ciel wears a pink and black dress to disguise himself, utterly regretting all of his decisions. Trudging through the ballroom with an eye out for Viscount Druitt, he can't shake his disdain for his current situation.

"I really do not want my fiancé to see me like this.." Ciel's mind flashes to a vision of Leah, already picturing how she would react to seeing him in such a way. The thought of the shock, then gossip surrounds his brain in a thick fog.

"That head-piece is so exquisite!"

Sebastian and Ciel turn their heads at the speed of lightning to the sound of an all too familiar voice, eyes immediately settling upon the blonde and brunette pair. In between the two women, Elizabeth compliments any lady she comes across while Leah attempts to keep her on a leash and drag her away.

Glancing ahead of her, Elizabeth's eyes light up at the sight of Sebastian trying to whisk Ciel away, "That dress that girl is wearing is so cute!" she yells, but her voice dies down when the Phantomhive can break the line of sight within the large crowd of people in the room.

"Hm? Where did she go?" Elizabeth asks while turning her head every which way.

"She must have seen something that caught her eye. Or wanted to get away from you. Most strangers don't appreciate being chased.. even if you have good intent." Leah folds her hands near her abdomen, subtly messing with the fabric of her gloves.

Ducked behind a table, Ciel and Sebastian are mere feet away from Leah and Elizabeth. There's a tall and extravagant cake between them, which unlikely catches the eye of his fiancé, "Why are they here?! Anyway, let's go to where the ladies are.."

"Oh Elizabeth, look at the cake! It's beautiful." Leah muses, admiring the intricate details that surround the dessert.

Shifting her attention from the task of trying to find the mysterious woman, Elizabeth is just as content at the sight of the cake before them, "It is! We must have a slice together when they cut it!" She nods.

"I— I couldn't.." Leah breathes out, placing a hand lightly above her stomach with knitted brows. Even though she's thin, she can never shake the insecurity she developed during childhood, learning she was bigger than other girls.

"Nonsense!"

"How strange.." Sebastian whispers, "For your fiancé and cousin to be here, it is quite unexpected."

"Regardless of the disguise, if we meet.."

"You'll be found out."

Ciel's face fills with panic at their words, "If he discovers me, I won't be able to investigate!"

"Further, everyone here will find out that the young lady is you," Sebastian replies with a monotonous tone.

Sheer dread overcomes the Phantomhive, "If people find out I'm dressed like this, it'll be the ultimate humiliation for the Phantomhive family!" Ciel tries to hold his voice back from a shout, "If it comes to that, I'd rather die! Anyway, we cannot.." he trails off.

"Viscount Druitt is so handsome tonight!"

"His light golden hair is like gold thread!"

Viscount Druitt stands confidently a few meters away, conversing with guests. To no one's surprise, women speak of his looks from any corner of the room.

Reluctantly approaching the man, Ciel tries to keep his composure and act as he would a lady. As in copying how he sees Leah act. Unluckily for Ciel, he's barely able to get a word into the Viscount before the dreadful voice of Elizabeth emerges from behind him.

"Ah! Found you!" Elizabeth calls out, starting to approach excitedly.

Barely an inch behind her, Leah is tugging on the girl's arm and trying to pull her away, "Stop chasing people! Can't we get a snack or something?" she huffs.

Cursing under his breath, Ciel is quick to dart off and away from the pair, "I was so close too!"

"The girl in front! Please wait!" Begs Elizabeth, nearly unaffected by Leah's attempts to drag her back.

It's an annoying game of cat and mouse, with an extra player to intervene. Ahead of the girls, Sebastian leads Ciel through the people. But not far behind them, Leah rolls her eyes at Elizabeth who never seems to know when to give up.

Hand in the air, Sebastian waves over a butler, "Gentleman, please give a glass of lemonade to those ladies." he says while whisking Ciel away, pointing in the direction of the young Earl's fiancé and cousin.

Elizabeth holds initial confusion at the sudden offer of lemonade but Leah appears more than pleased, giving her a chance to catch her breath after the brisk walking to keep up with the blonde. Holding the glass between her gloved fingers, the Barrett girl hides her unstable breathing to take large gulps of the liquid while Elizabeth merrily chats away to more women around them.

Unfortunately for Leah, her break is short-lived when Edward quickly approaches her from behind. Gently grazing a hand past her shoulder, the older boy smiles widely, "May I have this dance?" he asks.

Fighting back a startled gasp when Edward suddenly appears behind her, Leah gives a lopsided, but soft smile, "You may."

Walking towards the dance floor, Leah gives one last look in Elizabeth's direction as they leave her behind, only praying she doesn't cause the unidentified lady any more trouble. But while distracted by her friend, she hardly notices that she brushes past Ciel who stands tightly next to Sebastian.

Guiding Leah to the dance floor, Edward takes her right hand in his left and places his free hand around her waist, leading the two of them in the dance. The dance is a classic waltz, one of the first dances that many learn. Following the music, their steps move in sync and Leah's dress skirt flows with her movements, her unlowered hems freely brushing across her ankles and calves.

"I'm glad I caught you in time. I thought you'd spend your entire evening chasing after Elizabeth," Edward chuckles, twirling the shorter girl in his arms.

Keeping her eyes trained on his, Leah smiles. "I was preparing to. Balls are a lot less fun than I thought they would be.." she complains.

The brunette's words earn a chuckle from Edward, both of whom barely notice Ciel and Sebastian just a few feet away from them. Somehow Elizabeth doesn't either, fixated on her cousin in the pretty dress yet is incapable of recognizing him. That could be explained by Ciel ducking his face out of their view whenever he can.

When the song ends and everyone returns to their original states, Leah lets go of Edward and returns to Elizabeth's side, brushing her shoulder past Ciel's and muttering a quick apology. Approaching her smaller friend, Leah's brows knit together when she realizes she is just staring off into the distance. Or more so, a particular boy in pink.

"Elizabeth?" Leah calls out, lowering her head to come between the blonde and the form her eyes are fixated on.

Blinking in surprise, Elizabeth looks up to meet the blue eyes that bore into her green ones, "Oh, Leah! How was the dance with Edward?" she asks.

"It was alright.." Leah shrugs, "What are you looking at?"

"The girl in that beautiful dress! I still haven't gotten to talk to her.." Elizabeth leans to look past Leah's shoulders, "But here's my chance!" The blonde announces, setting off with a pep to her step.

Leah sighs in irritation as Elizabeth begins to approach Ciel, currently in an uncomfortable conversation with Viscount Druitt. 'That girl never knows when to give up.'

Ciel himself is practically shaking in his shoes, knowing of the two familiar figures who are quickly closing the distance. In a quick matter of luck — aka, Sebastian — Ciel's initial worry of his life being over is somewhat reassured in a matter of seconds. Watching the butler wearing a masquerade mask slam down a cupboard between Ciel, Leah, and Elizabeth, he hides his surprise at the demon's sudden plan.

"The ball is at its peak, so at this time, may all the gentlemen and ladies watch this magic performance I shall do with this cupboard!" Sebastian announces. "That gentleman," he shifts his attention to Lau, "Can you assist me?"

Lau's signature smirk paints his face, "Me? Why of course."

Leah and Elizabeth both watch in amusement and wonder, eyes sparking with sudden interest.

"This is an ordinary cupboard. I will now enter it."

With the rest of the guests enamored by Sebastian's display, no one notices Viscount Druitt and Ciel sneaking off away from the party.

"After I go into the cupboard, tie it up tightly with these chains," Sebastian explains to Lau, handing the chains over to him. "And then these swords will be used to pierce this cupboard."

Drowning out the last of the explanation, Leah finally racks her brain to recognize a familiar face. "Is that Lau?" She questions, furrowing her brows before looking to her left to see Madame Red. 'I suppose Ciel didn't come after all?'

As much as the Barrett enjoys being in her thoughts, the train is quickly interrupted when she is brought back to hear Lau make exaggerated noises while impaling the box with Sebastian inside. The guests all look with utter shock and worry at multiple swords stabbed into the cupboard, a smiling Lau to accompany it.

"He suddenly went from the top?!"

"He really did it without restraint!"

Lau, who seems entirely proud of his work, sparkles, "Alright, let's see if he's alright?" he suggests.

Taking the swords out of the cupboard and undoing the chains, the door to the cupboard ominously begins to swing open. Everyone watches in silent worry before bursting into shouts of surprise when Sebastian steps out completely unscathed.

"Impressive!"

"A miracle!"

"Wow!"

"Bravo!"

The room is filled with sounds of applause, replacing the previous silence that could be cut by a knife. Stepping away from Elizabeth, Leah slowly walks over to Lau and Sebastian who she can now see.

Clapping cheerily, Madame Red has the smile of a happy child, "That was quite impressive, Sebastian!"

"Sebastian? If everyone else is here, then where is Ciel?" Leah questions, tilting her head.

"You can never be too surprised with that boy! I'm sure you're glad to be here though? How was your first ball?" Angelina gives a smile to the young Barrett.

"Well it's not my first.. but honestly. Never again." Leah sighs. All the attention she received, even without having to interact with anyone, was enough for her. Then following such a hyper Elizabeth around all night? The brunette is more than glad her mother chose to not debut her this season.

— ౨ৎ —

"What's the meaning of this?!" Ciel shouts, slamming down the latest newspaper. "The Viscount didn't go anywhere last night!"

It is another day in Ciel's townhouse, but not a particularly welcome one with the latest news. Around the room, the aristocrats are stationed in different spots of the room, holding the newspapers to observe the headlines displayed in bold words.

"If the suspect could not carry out the murders.. it's an impersonator.. no, it's possible there were others from the beginning." Lau speaks, standing in front of a bookcase.

Madame Red furrows her brows, "Meaning the Viscount isn't involved?" she asks.

"I have to come up with something again.." Ciel sighs. "We have to narrow it down. Sebastian, organize the list." The blue-haired teen demands.

Sebastian places a hand on his chest, "Your humble servant understands."

Later that same night, thunder and lightning crash around the townhouse. Leah and Madame Red sit around a small table, Ciel in his lounge chair a slight distance away. The trio are all wearing their sleep attire, paired with simple robes wrapped around themselves.

"There are four and a half million people in London alone. During the season party period, there's be even more." Ciel groans, smacking the papers on his left with the back of his hand. "If we relax the requirements, the pool of people increases even more."

"You're still working?" Leah questions, tilting her head to which her untied hair follows.

"Leah. Madame Red."

"Sometimes you don't need to work so hard." Madame Red smiles, holding up a box with the design of a chess board on the front. "Want to relax a bit and play this?" she asks.

"International chess, huh? It brings back memories.." Ciel says.

"Is that so? Because Sebastian was coming, I got this out from the attic!" Madame Red muses. "Come! Take a break! Take a break!" Angelina chants, pushing some papers off of the table.

"Grell, please prepare some tea!"

"It's already late so I've prepared herb tea made from wild roses," Grell explains, placing a cup in front of each aristocrat before pouring them a cup.

Hesitantly picking up her porcelain, Leah sniffs at the liquid before bringing the cup to her cherry-tinted lips. Taking a small sip, she recoils in her chair at the salty taste, spitting it back into the cup and placing it back on its plate.

"That's repulsive.." Leah sighs, leaning back in her seat.

"This tastes bad!" Madame Red shouts, "Why is herbal tea salty?! And you call yourself a butler?! Do it again!" she demands.

Grell shakes in her shoes, looking at her master, "Even so, I'm still a butler!" she tries not to raise her voice in response.

The red-haired woman lets out a breath of irritation, not bothering to listen to Grell's continuous apologies. Turning in her seat to observe the butler clad in black, she leans a head on her hand, "That butler of yours, whether he's capable or just a workaholic.. that's not much?" she questions.

"This is nothing," Ciel states in response.

"Since he's so capable, you should just make him do the investigation on the Viscount instead." Madame Red suggests.

"That is my 'power' and 'hands and legs'." Ciel holds up a horse piece, "Sebastian is merely one of my chess pieces. It is not possible to move the chess pieces without me, the person behind it. If I won using a free moving piece, that would not be to my credit." Ciel says.

Placing his horse piece on the board, he snatched up one of Angelina's pieces. Madame Red seems to be slightly surprised that her nephew has managed to snag another, trying to think of a new strategy.

"The one who gives the order will always be the master. Without my command, he will—"

Poor Leah has begun to tune out the conversation, eyes flickering closed out of utter boredom. The sound of the rain doesn't make her feel any better, slowly lulling the teenager to sleep in her seat.

Minutes pass before anyone has noticed Leah fell asleep. The first to notice was Madame Red, checking on the girl in her odd silence after she made her turn on the board.

"She fell asleep?" Angelina questions, which prompts Anna to walk over.

Glancing down at the chair, the maid sighs as she observes the sleeping brunette. Hair slightly sprawled across her face, parted lips, and faint breathing is displayed, all while sitting in an uncomfortable position.

"I will have her moved," Anna bows, "Please enjoy the rest of your night."

Before Anna has to chance to attempt to lift her mistress out of the chair, Sebastian places his papers down to walk over, "Allow me." he leans down to pick up the young Barrett.

"My, she's lighter than I thought she would be.." Sebastian says in surprise, fighting the urge to begin throwing her around from how little effort it would take.

Anna glances up at the butler, "Yes, she has a habit of not eating. It's been more noticeable over the years." she says, now walking with Sebastian toward Leah's designated room in the townhouse.

Most of the walk is silent, a silence that can't seem to decide if it's a comfortable one or not. Anna's dull personality makes it hard for her to entertain conversation, rather than choosing to focus on getting Leah in bed. Thankfully the townhouse isn't as big as a mansion, making it easy to reach the room.

Moving ahead of Sebastian carrying the young lady in his arms, Anna opens the door for him and stands to the side as he shuffles inside. Adjusting the girl in his arms, Sebastian pulls back the blankets and lays her beneath, turning back to Anna.

"Goodnight.." Sebastian smiles, walking out the door.

Approaching the sleeping Leah, Anna hardly pays Sebastian any mind as she prepares her mistress's items for tomorrow. "Goodnight."

— ౨ৎ —

It's only a matter of months before a multitude of people are gathered in a chapel to attend the unexpected funeral of Madame Red, the air filled with sadness and tears. Leah stands close to the coffin, observing Angelina who now lacks color with a blank look.

However, underneath her tough exterior, the girl is fighting back the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. "I feel like you understood me in a way.. Even if we didn't speak much." her voice wavers, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Just as Leah lays the flower in her hand beside Angelina's head, the doors to the chapel swing open, prompting everyone to look back. Ciel stands front and center, Sebastian behind him to the side holding a hat to his abdomen with a solemn look.

"Ciel..!" Elizabeth exclaims, standing a few feet away from the coffin herself.

Releasing a breath through her nose, his fiancé watches as he walks closer with a crimson dress slung over his shoulder, "I knew you'd show up eventually." she gives a sad smile.

Leah steps back from the coffin, giving Ciel space to say goodbye to his aunt. Watching as the Phantomhive sits atop the podium holding the coffin up, she watches warily when Ciel swings the dress on his aunt and gently touches her face.

"You know white flowers and subdued clothes do not suit you. What suits you is passionate red. The color of licorice burning in the Earth." Ciel leans down to place his face closer to Angelina's, "Aunt Ann."

Just as Ciel finishes speaking, red flower petals begin to flood into the chapel. Everyone looks up and around in surprise, gasps filling the room while Sebastian stands outside with a carriage full of petals. Aiming her head up, a couple fall on Leah's head and face, causing her to release a small giggle.

Pulling away from his aunt's body, Ciel gives her one last look, "Good night, Madame Red."

Leah, Ciel, Sebastian, Lau, and Anna all stand by Angelina's grave. The young Barrett stares down at the touched dirt, solemnly holding her hands together to give silent remorse. Beside her, Anna keeps a hand on Leah's shoulder in comfort but makes no further moves.

"You did not inform the Queen of Jack the Ripper's true identity?" Lau asks.

"I did not think it necessary." Ciel replies, staring at the headstone, "After all, Jack the Ripper is no longer in London."

Looking up in confusion, Leah turns to Ciel with knitted brows, "Who was Jack the Ripper?" she questions.

Meeting his fiancé's eyes, Ciel feels the sorrow pouring from them. Unable to break the truth, he decides to leave her in ignorant bliss. At least for the time being.

"Do not worry about it.."