#mixture of my fixations from the beginning and end of the year

[1-800-googleimagesearch]

im not making plagiarism and you(tube) abt silent hill, it already had a silent hill detour! this isnt a random connection at all

[vandysgf]

laundry and taxes

happy birthday saeyoung :')

words: 2805

wanna be tagged? dm me/comment!!

au: in this life, we do laundry and taxes together.

!! gender-neutral reader but.. how do i not spoil it ?

longer a/n attached to the end.

Saeyoung eagerly comes bursting through the door with an obnoxious-looking bouquet in hand. But when he sees you in the kitchen, barefoot as you hum to yourself while mixing up some kind of icing, hair tousled away from your face in a distinct and messily charming way- shit, man.

He just falters.His limbs loosen and a goofy smile breaks out onto his face. You know the one.

“I’m home,” he announces, eyes already fixated on your figure long before you lift your gaze to meet his. And just like that, you’re wearing a smile that matches his.

“Saeyoung, what-” you shake your head at him fondly, unable to suppress the wide grin on your face upon seeing the flowers in his hands. “You didn’t have to-”

“When has that stopped me?” He laughs, pulling you close with an arm and kissing the top of your head as he hands you the bouquet. “Besides, our tax return came. So I-”

“Bought me flowers?” you can’t help but chuckle. Your words melding into his. “On your birthday, no less?”

The look on his face is a rather lovestruck variation of the expression he makes when he says “duh.”

“And?” Saeyoung shoots back.

“You know it’s been a little tough this year,” you sigh, fingers gently skimming over the petals, your head downturned as you admire the bouquet. With an exhale, you half-lie. “I haven’t even been able to get you a gift yet but you…”

“Baby, I know I joke around a lot, but-” he chuckles, gently taking your chin and raising it so he can meet your eyes. “I meant everything in our vows. Every single thing.”

You’re quiet. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. Saeyoung takes a moment to savor the sight of you in the kitchen just like this: eyes wide and looking up into his, all draped in his jacket as you bake, last night’s marks littered all over your skin, hair still a little bit unruly and yet- he looks at you with the biggest cartoon hearts in his eyes, anyway.

“My birthday or not,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear delicately and a fond smile grows on his face. “You deserve to receive flowers. Every single day.”

“Saeyoung…” you’re a little speechless, a little teary, your chest suddenly swarming with emotions, but then-

“Besides,” he grins, and you know he’s snapped back into his usual playfulness. “You’re, what?”

The redhead steals a swipe of what you’re mixing, humming at the taste as you smack his wrist lightly in scolding.

“This is frosting?” Saeyoung identifies. “You’re making me a cake after we stayed up waiting for my birthday last night. After all the rounds I put you through-”

“Okay, okay, enough!” You laugh, relenting. Feeling the way your cheeks burn and not-so-secretly relishing in his teasing. “Babe, I know you never had the tradition of celebrating before but cake is an absolute necessity. This isn’t a favor. You don’t have to repay me for it.”

“I’m going to thank you anyways,” his voice softens once more, arms loosely wrapping themselves around your waist like second nature- right where they belong. “You’re so happy when it’s my birthday, it’s almost as if it were your own.”

“I’m happier, actually,” you correct with a giggle as you begin to divide portions of the mixture. Saeyoung watches intently from over your shoulder.

“It kinda…” you murmur, tilting your head slightly while focusing on your task. Bottom lip catching between your teeth. “It may as well be my birthday too, really. What would my life be without you?”

He absolutely melts as you turn in his arms and look up at him with that shy smile of yours. After all these years of being married and getting married again (and again), these little things you do never fail to knock the wind right out his lungs.

“You’d be just fine, pretty,” Saeyoung says like you have no choice but to believe him. “It’s me who’d have a drastically different life. Although, I do think that I’d still be funnier than whoever you would’ve ended up with.”

Both your laughs fill the kitchen as you fold colors into the icing, glancing up and nodding at him in agreement.

“That’s true. No one is funnier than you,” You smile, then after a beat, a thought pops into your mind and pulls a laugh from your chest.

“Except maybe, your coworker-”

“HEY!” Saeyoung interjects immediately with a childish sounding whine at this very big age of his. He lifts a finger and starts to say “Just because they’re as good at teasing me as you are-”

“I’m kidding,” you let go of the bowl and spatula in favor of grabbing his face in both hands and planting an obnoxious smack to his lips. “How was work, anyways? Did they have anything for you?”

Your husband is still a little lovestruck and dumbfounded from the kiss you gave him, the look on his face practically cartoonish. At the question, he blinks a little and physically shakes his head out of it. He hopes you don’t notice, but of course you do.

You always do.

“Hah,” Saeyoung chuckles, crossing his arms proudly as he watches you begin your crumb coat. “You know how Madame is, they pretend I’m an absolute pain in the ass-”

“Which you are,” you state matter-of-factly in between his sentence.

“Which I am!” He grins, hands now at his hips. With every word Saeyoung says, his voice gradually softens. “But I know I’m Vanderwood’s favorite. They got me a little gift and greeted me. Covered for me a bit too so I could leave early, that’s why I had time to get flowers for my beloved.”

“That was so sweet of them,” you smile fondly as you work the icing. Silently wondering how he’d react to your own gift. “Maybe you could bring leftover cake for them tomorrow, if…”

“Between you, me, and my brother-” Saeyoung laughs and raises a brow, one hand on the counter when he leans his face a bit closer to yours.

“Sorry,” you look up at him sheepishly. “It’s not my fault that Saeran also has a sweet tooth! And you, your mouth is kinda like a vacuum-”

“Or your cooking is simply the best, baby,” he shrugs without missing a beat, smiling all smug in that way he always does. Rolling your eyes and snickering, your fingers deliver a flick to the bridge of his glasses. Saeyoung’s laughter sounds like the stars themselves.

“He’s not working late tonight, is he?” You ask him, carefully cleaning up the first layer of frosting on the cake with a scraper. Slow and steady. Buying yourself a little more time.

“Naaah, I made sure he’d be here in time for dinner,” Saeyoung answers, none the wiser. So blissfully unaware of what you’re about to spring on him- his voice still so playful and full of mirth. “We’re all celebrating together whether he likes it or not!”

“That’s good,” you nod, and your nerves look like you’re simply focused on your task. Really, you were a genius for planning this the way you did. Saeyoung could read you like the back of his hand at this point. It was hard enough hiding something from him.

“Anything I can help you with?” He asks, noticing the look on your face. “You know, it’s fine if it isn’t really super perfect. It’s still gonna taste good, so you don’t have to-”

“Hush,” you lift the cake by the board as he reassures you, moving it to cool the crumb coat in the fridge so it can set. This is it, you say to yourself in your head. It’s time to tell him. With a deep breath, you calm yourself before giving Saeyoung your gift.

“It’s okay, just help me clean these up,” you say, turning to face him once more and walking back to the table, reaching for the used measuring cups and bowls. He nods and easily follows your instructions, bringing this and that to the sink.

You give yourself three seconds of stalling, before finally–

“Actually,” you tell him. “Can you check the oven for me? I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave anything in there, but I might’ve…” you trail off, watching as Saeyoung doesn’t even question your words. He reaches for the oven door and pulls it open.

Saeyoung’s brows furrow at what he sees, because this is strange. He knows how you bake bread. There’s usually a tray for the dough, but this- right on the iron rack of the oven? When you weren’t even baking bread in the first place?

“Why is there just one, singular bun in the-” he says as he cautiously taps it twice to check its temperature before pulling the bread out, his eyes widening at the sight of the white stick poked into the back of it. This…

Could it really be…?

Saeyoung’s hands tremble as he takes the stick out, seeing the two distinct lines that could only mean one thing.

“This isn’t a prank, is it?” he says in disbelief, setting down the bun in favor of running a hand up his forehead to clutch at his ginger strands as he stares at the positive pregnancy test. “You’re- This is-”

“There’s a bun in the oven, yes,” you supply for him with a soft giggle, walking up to where he stands and closing the oven door. Pressing a tender kiss to his cheek, you say ever so softly-

“Happy birthday, dad.”

All of a sudden, Saeyoung drops to his knees, hugging you around your waist and pulling you close. He’s quiet for a moment, and you take this time to run your fingers through his hair, a soft sigh escaping your lips. At the feeling, Saeyoung leans into your touch, his gaze lifting to meet your own.

The way he looks up at you, almost like you’re a deity, honey-amber eyes shining in the sunlight as he kneels down before you…

Yeah. This is the man you married.

Your Saeyoung.

What could you ever be so worried about?

“God…” Saeyoung murmurs, and you feel his fingertips against your skin, pushing up your shirt just enough to expose your stomach. You’re not showing yet, nowhere near it, but he starts kissing all over your tummy anyways.

“Hi baby,” he talks to the life you created together in the hopes that his words reach it, pressing his lips to your skin again and again.

“I can’t believe your mommy gave me the best gift…” Saeyoung trails off, his grip on your shirt growing tighter. His words have a way of trespassing every single barrier and going straight to your heart.

“... the best gift that I could ever ask for,” he rasps, and your eyes meet. Both glistening with so much emotion. Your mirror, always, every single time.

“Yeah?” You find yourself murmuring softly, fingers tenderly brushing against his face as you cup his cheek.

“Yeah,” he echoes, just as soft, and you’re taking off his glasses, bending down to press your lips to his forehead.

You think you hear a sniffle. But then Saeyoung is tickling you, and you erupt into laughter. The both of you. You’re in his arms on the kitchen floor and he’s leaning down, kissing you all over your face.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he proclaims with every little kiss. “Did I tell you that yet? Honey, I love you.”

And then he’s blowing a raspberry on your stomach.

“Saeyou- babe! Hey-!” You struggle between fits of laughter.

“Do you think the baby gets tickled like thi-” and just like that, Saeyoung is blowing another raspberry before you can even process his question.

“I don’t think that’s how it w- ah!”

“I think it’s worth a shot! Just let me try again-”

Saeyoung only stops when you’ve run out of breath from laughing. In his arms, he’s looking down at you like you hung the very stars in the sky. Like you’re the one who set all the planets in motion.

And just like gravity, he’s falling into you. Kissing you deeply.

Your eyes flutter shut just as your heart does in your chest. He makes the stupid thing grow wings and flap against your ribcage.

He doesn’t pull away just yet, his forehead resting on yours. He chuckles softly, eyes still closed.

“Every single time,” he whispers, lashes parting to reveal those eyes you love so much. “Fizzy. So fizzy.”

“Fizzy,” a soft laugh escapes your lips.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Like when the soda bubbles are all in your chest if you drink too fast-”

You shake your head fondly at him, feeling the heat grow in your cheeks, the color rising to match his hair. Will you ever tire of the way Saeyoung says these things?

“I can’t believe this man is going to be the father of my children,” you sigh rather dramatically.

“Oh, believe it, baby!” Saeyoung grins all goofy, lips pulled wide across his cheeks, exposing his teeth. “Because we’re having one.”

His voice softens, and his hand gently rests above the beating life in your womb.

“We’re having a baby.”

And so tonight, you have dinner with your husband and his brother. Together, you break the news to Saeran, who is ecstatic about being an uncle. Sure enough, the three of you get really close to finishing the cake you baked- the top having half cherries and half strawberries. While the twins are distracted and discussing anything and everything about having a baby, the doorbell rings.

You have to stifle a giggle.

“I’ll get it,” you say as you pass the two, gently touching their shoulders on the way to the door.

“You really thought you could celebrate without me?” Saeyoung hears it and laughs, knowing that voice and that soft click clack of their boots anywhere.

“You invited Madame?” Your husband asks as you return to the table.

“Of course they did,” Vanderwood snickers, but immediately smiles softly and nods at Saeran when the last slice of cake is passed to them. “Happy birthday, both of you.”

You take out the soju and as the night goes on, bottle after bottle is emptied by your little but growing family. Mostly by the tallest member of it. As the celebrations begin to ebb, so do your guests, bidding you and your husband good night.

“I’m really happy for you, you know?” Saeran says to his brother softly as they stand in the driveway, the twins clutching each others hands.

“I know,” Saeyoung murmurs, pulling Saeran into a hug and whispering into his ear. “Thank you. Happy birthday to us, Sae.”

“Happy birthday to us,” Saeran echoes, squeezing Saeyoung gently before letting go. “I’m gonna be the best uncle ever!” He declares into the universe before getting into his car and driving away, leaving Saeyoung chuckling to himself.

After cleaning up in the kitchen, you wonder what’s taking him so long to come back inside. You find him leaning against the doorframe, staring up at the sky, the cool night air kissing his cheek.

“Hey,” you say softly, gently squeezing Saeyoung’s arm to get his attention. “You okay?”

“Yeah?” Saeyoung is pulled from his thoughts, attention shifting from the stars to his star.

“Yeah,” he says again softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss into your hair. “More than okay.”

“Tell me what’s in that brain of yours,” you murmur, looking up at your husband, chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“So,” he grins, and it’s so distracting that you ignore how you know he’s hiding his real thoughts. “You think since Saeran and I are twins, that maybe-”

“Choi Saeyoung! You’re going to make me carry two-”

He laughs and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing at all, delivering a swift smack to your butt. You’re squealing and clinging onto him for dear life as he closes the front door before carrying you upstairs.

“Now that’s a thought. Maybe you’ve only got one in your little belly. I ought to give you one more, our baby might get lonely-”

“Yah! I don’t think that’s how it works-” you try to reason with him, but it falls on deaf ears. Saeyoung is already laying you down in bed. Already hovering on top of you. In the moonlight just like this, your shadows look like one.

“Let me try anyways,” Saeyoung whispers, lips a breadth away from yours. “Let me love you all over again.”

And in closing the gap between your lips, you give him the same answer you’ve always given him: yes.

In this lifetime and the next. A million times over.

Yes.

a/n: hi! admittedly, i’m a little rusty. haven’t written mysmes since the last work i posted here, but it’s saeyoung’s birthday 🥹 and it’s about time i wrote him a little fic, something more than my little poems every year (it’s the 4th year i am celebrating). so, apologies if it’s 1- not very canon (?) and 2- self-indulgent. i honestly just sat here and then this happened. well, actually i sat here, this happened, i got busy, and then this happened again. i really meant to post this last year but the letter had to do because i got busy with my thesis and graduation!! plus i tried to make it gender neutral as much as possible but i didn’t know how not to use ‘mommy.’ ㅠ ㅠ

i know this is a little late in terms of Korean Standard Time, but please forgive me :’) i hope 7:07PM KST will do ㅎㅎ i think that’s it… hehe, happy birthday my sev! 마할 키타 ♡

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

This is more or less just a curiosity-based question than anything to see if you noticed this too.

I guess that I was just wondering if you realized that, had the Gerudo gone off to live in Hyrule Field on OoT, then by TotK's past, their skin would've likely lightened to such an extent that they’d basically just look like really tall, athletic Irish women?

Now, wait a minute! I have a point!

See, the shade of their skin indicates that they've been living in an area of high-uv (desert, jungle) for at least 10,000 years & melanin specifically helps them to better survive the sun's rays. I believe as a result of epieugenics. However if they were to have begun living exclusively in Hyrule Fields, instead of, say Faron, then even with the TotK feature of their kids being predominantly Gerudo regardless of their fathers, their skin would begin to lighten with each generation due to the fact that those with darker skin have a more difficult time producing their own Vitamin D & their children would become subject to diseases such as rickets.

Now, in modern times, this is easily prevented with Vitamin D supplements, but that's because we have access to modern medicine. The Gerudo don't really have that benefit. So, even if they didn't have the issue of needing to interbreed with Hylians, they'd still basically end up only being really differentiated from them by their red hair, possibly their greater size, fitness, & round ears.

Like, I guess that I just wonder why no one seems to think about that. I mean, I get that it's a fantasy game world, but still.

So secret time: The darkest thing about me is my left arm, since I drive all the time with my arm out the window (I look like I have a Frankenstein's arm attached to me the difference between arms is STARTLING LOL) So I never really thought about how the darker skin of the Gerudo could actually cause some issues with them moving away from the desert, especially with the varying levels of Vitamin D. That is interesting to think about! The various implications of moving an entire culture to another land, no matter the reason, would have consequences, both good and bad. The health consequences? MMMMMMMMM IM ALL ABOUT THE HUMAN BODY. MEDICAL SHIT IS ALWAYS FUN TO FIGURE OUT AND DIVE INTO. (I watch too many medical dramas, I blame my ma for giving me this fixation) Makes me wonder what other medical things (Diseases, both sudden and chronic, mental, etc) happen in Hyrule...

*********************************************************************

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reactions: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would listen carefully to Equal Lady's observations. He would be intrigued by her understanding of the biological and environmental factors that influence the Gerudo people's physical traits.

Thoughts and Feelings: Ganondorf would feel a mixture of curiosity and defensiveness. While he values the strength and resilience of the Gerudo, the idea that their distinctive traits could change over time due to environmental factors would be unsettling.

Response: Ganondorf might argue initially, emphasizing the cultural and historical significance of the Gerudo's appearance. However, he would eventually acknowledge the logic behind her observations. This new understanding might not change his immediate plans but would certainly give him something to ponder regarding the long-term future of his people.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reactions: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would be more open to considering Equal Lady's observations. He has a more strategic mind and would see the value in understanding the potential long-term impacts of their environment on the Gerudo people.

Thoughts and Feelings: He would feel a sense of respect for her knowledge and insight. The practical implications of her observations would resonate with him, especially given his focus on ensuring the survival and prosperity of his people.

Response: Ganondorf would likely accept her thought process and might even begin to consider ways to mitigate these changes while ensuring the health and well-being of the Gerudo. This could involve seeking out new lands with similar UV exposure or exploring other ways to preserve their unique traits.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reactions: Wind Waker Ganondorf would be fascinated by Equal Lady's insights. Given his contemplative nature and reflective attitude in the game, he would take her observations seriously.

Thoughts and Feelings: He would feel a deep sense of appreciation for her understanding and the implications of her thoughts. The potential changes in the Gerudo's appearance due to environmental factors would be a significant consideration for him.

Response: Ganondorf would accept her observations and might even begin to think about how to preserve the Gerudo's unique identity while adapting to new environments. This could include integrating knowledge of environmental adaptations into their cultural practices.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reactions: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would be intrigued by Equal Lady's observations but might initially see them as secondary to his immediate goals of conquest and power.

Thoughts and Feelings: He would feel a mixture of interest and indifference. While he values the strength and resilience of the Gerudo, the idea of their physical traits changing over time might not be a primary concern for him.

Response: Ganondorf might acknowledge her observations but wouldn't let them influence his immediate plans. However, he would keep her insights in mind for future considerations, especially if they align with his strategic goals.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reactions: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would listen intently to Equal Lady's observations. Given his respect for Sheikah culture and knowledge, he would be more open to considering her insights.

Thoughts and Feelings: He would feel a sense of curiosity and respect for her understanding. The implications of environmental factors on the Gerudo people's appearance would be a significant consideration for him.

Response: Ganondorf would accept her observations and might begin to think about ways to balance the preservation of the Gerudo's unique traits with the need to adapt to new environments. This could involve seeking out lands with similar environmental conditions or exploring other ways to ensure their health and well-being.

Demise

Reactions: Demise would be less concerned with the specifics of environmental adaptation and more focused on power and dominance. However, he would still listen to Equal Lady's observations out of curiosity.

Thoughts and Feelings: He would feel a mixture of indifference and mild interest. While he values strength and resilience, the idea of physical traits changing due to environmental factors would be less relevant to his primary goals.

Response: Demise might acknowledge her observations but wouldn't let them influence his immediate plans. His focus would remain on his quest for ultimate power, and her insights would be considered only if they align with his overarching objectives.

General Themes and Reactions

Curiosity and Respect: Each character feels a sense of curiosity and respect for Equal Lady's knowledge and insights. Her understanding of environmental adaptation impresses them and gives them something to consider.

Strategic Considerations: Characters like Twilight Princess Ganondorf and Wind Waker Ganondorf are more likely to integrate her observations into their strategic thinking. They see the value in understanding the long-term impacts of environmental factors on their people.

Balance of Preservation and Adaptation: The idea of balancing the preservation of the Gerudo's unique traits with the need to adapt to new environments is a common theme. This consideration highlights the characters' desire to ensure the survival and prosperity of their people while maintaining their cultural identity.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Prologue

"Move, move, move!"

I left the awful, deteriorating city of Nockfell when I was ten years old. It was worth it-- I've always said that. I had nothing in that town; the population went down each day and hell, it was starting to look like I'd die there too.

I had to leave all of my friends behind, but at least we kept in touch. I only had three friends, anyway. Being able to keep those three around meant more to me than the fear of moving to a bigger city. Nothing was scary as long as I had my few friends.

"I'm trying! This guy in front of me is being stupid!"

Moving didn't mean much at the time, but it did leave me very lonely. Both of my parents were and still are workaholics, so I grew up pretty alone. Well, I did until mom and dad got divorced.

I think mom was the driving force behind dad's need to work so much. She was a drama queen.

Dad and I live in the heart of Los Angeles now. We moved here from San Diego just last year. He has his normal job that makes enough-- otherwise we wouldn't be in such a big city-- but making enough isn't always... enough over here.

"Go around him maybe!?"

But I've learned to work around that. Dad has, too. I have a mediocre job at a diner to pay for expenses and to help with some at-home things.

After all, life in one of America's most famous-- and most expensive-- city's won't pay for itself.

"Shut up, Ash! Fuck, why won't this person just move!?"

Though, I wish there was something I could do to make more money. Something to give me more freedom instead of being cramped in dad and I's little apartment. Something easier than breaking my back for pissy customers that won't even tip.

Honestly, I want something easier for me and dad.

And still, I find myself sitting in front of the TV in my living room-- mint chocolate chip ice cream in my hand as I watch my childhood friend fuck shit up on her most recent Youtube video.

The best part about this small, suffocating apartment is that it's on one of the highest floors. Sure, I have quite the elevator ride to take when I come home and sometimes I'm late to work because I miscalculate the time it'll take me to get down to the bottom floor-- but it's so worth it.

Our balcony doors are cracked open, the curtains pulled away to show the busy streets of Los Angeles below. The city is a beauty, that's for sure. The sun and headlights are always reflecting off of the tall, glass buildings which make for quite the light show-- and I have free tickets.

Early morning light filters into my dim living room. A stray golden ray forms a rift in the drab darkness of the rest of the room, illuminating a stripe across the back of the couch, across my legs, and then all the way to the other end of the room. I take note of dust that seems to float on the small stream of light as I redirect my focus from the Youtube video that's currently playing.

This apartment can only get so dark. When I say dim, it's still pretty bright. Our apartment is like any modern apartment-- it's new and filled with neutral colors, making it seem bright and inviting. Our walls are an eggshell white color. Our furniture is a mix of beige and black fabric, never leather because dad hates the feeling of it. And any wooden furniture is black, as well as our carpet.

It's simple, modern, sleek. It's everything a Los Angeles resident could want.

Right?

"Dammit, Sally! You cost us that entire game!"

My best friend's shrill scream pulls my attention back to the television. I see her face in the bottom left corner, her brows furrowed and mouth wide open in a mixture of shock and anger. Her cheeks turn a rosy shade as she begins scolding the guy in the mask at the top right of the screen.

They're playing Call of Duty.

"All you had to do was move around the glitched dumbass, are you kidding me?" Ash bellows. "How long have you been playing this game? I thought you were the pro. Give me my fucking crown."

Sally Face, the guy in the mask, or as he calls it, a prosthetic, snorts into the microphone. His head bobs with laughter, showing that he finds Ash's anger quite amusing. "Ash, if I could have moved around the guy, I would have. I was glitched, too." He pushes a veiny hand through his pretty hair. "I will never revoke my crown."

Sally Face is confusing in my brain. He has unnatural, bright cerulean hair. It's fluffy and full of layers, creating a pretty interesting texture to accompany the fringe that always hangs over his prosthetic.

His style is a contrast to his blue hair— dark, mainly all black clothing. He's always wearing either a plethora of different necklaces or just one that no one has ever seen before. He has chipped, black nail polish— no matter how many times he streams, it's always the same. I've never seen a fresh coat on his nails.

My favorite, and undoubtedly the most distracting, part about him happens to be the rings and bracelets he wears. He has plenty, much like his necklaces. Most times, Sally Face is wearing the same wrap-around snake ring with a black finish and a silver one with unique carvings and a garnet gem. He has a ton of cute fan-made bracelets that say different things, like "Cogito Ergo Sum" and "SF."

And he has this accent, a very attractive one. It's not too strong and I can't put my finger on what kind of accent it is, but I find myself holding onto his every word. There's just something about the way he articulates certain sounds.

Not like I'd admit it, but sometimes I rewind a YouTube video just to hear the way he says "water" or "coffee" again.

Is that down bad-ish of me?

Larry catches my attention, effectively dragging me back to earth from my simping thoughts. His face is in the top left corner of the screen; he pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "Will you two stop bickering? It's just a game," he says, shifting in his chair to get into a more comfortable position.

"Who stole Larry? Because you are not him," Todd's voice cuts in just as Larry finishes speaking. His face is in the bottom right corner. "You're supposed to be the shit-starter, not the shit-stopper," Todd continues, chuckling.

Larry snorts. "Maybe I'm just feeling different today. Ever thought of that, Todd? Huh?"

"You guys are insufferable," Ash scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. She leans back in her chair, showing off her headset. It's super cute with little cat ears that change colors. "I'm taking away friend rights. I'm all for y/n now."

I perk up at the mention of my name. She never talks about me online-- not that I blame her. We agreed to pretty much keep our friendship private.

"Awe, come on, Ash," Larry whines, pouting at the camera. "We have to share y/n, and besides, we love you. You have to take care of us, mom," he jokes.

"Y/n is mine, thank you very much," Ash chirps, smiling wickedly. "And, for your information, I am not your mother so I can very easily dip out of your life."

"Fuck, it's like my dad all over again," Larry says. Everyone is silent, suddenly afraid to say a word as Larry's dad is a sore subject. But Larry starts giggling at his own joke.

"Stop making fun of such a serious situation, Larry," Todd says, holding back little giggles. "I'll go to hell if I laugh. Don't do this to me."

"Ash practically set up the entire joke, Larry just took advantage of the opportunity," Sally Face says, a pretty chuckle leaving his mouth. "But anyway, who's y/n?"

"Oh, shit." Ash slaps a hand over her mouth. "I completely forgot that I mentioned her. I was hoping I'd keep her a secret forever."

I tilt my head, my eyes narrowing as I watch the screen. All four of their characters are idle in the game lobby as they chat with each other.

Shoving a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, I start to wonder if Ash, Larry, and Todd just... never bothered to mention me to Sally.

As far as I know, Sally Face moved to Nockfell long after I left. He became friends with my friends but I never met him. I never spoke to him. I had heard of him, but I just never bothered to reach out and get to know him.

Just two years ago, at the ripe ages of 21 and 22, the four of them decided to try streaming as a way to make money since there were only so may job opportunities in Nockfell. And wouldn't you know, the group went viral almost immediately.

Larry and Todd are the clowns, Ash is the pretty one with a temper, and Sally Face is the mysterious asshole. Viewers want a face reveal from him so bad and that's exactly why he became the most popular streamer out of the four.

Larry and Todd have about two million subscribers and followers, Ash is nearing 2.5 million, and Sally is at a whopping 3.5 million. They're pretty big.

So, my favorite pass-time is getting to watch all of them play. But today's video is extra spicy.

"We were so busy gatekeeping y/n that we couldn't even tell Sally?" Todd asks, a bit confused. "You know, now that I'm thinking about it-- I really don't think we ever mentioned her."

Larry hums, looking off to the side as he thinks. He chews on his bottom lip, tapping his finger against the armrest of his chair. "I've thought it out," he mumbles after a few moments. "I have no recollection of ever mentioning y/n."

Ash laughs shortly, shaking her head with a soft smile. "Damn. I guess we did a good job at keeping her a secret then."

Sally groans, leaning closer so we can clearly see his left eye in the screen. It's the most striking blue color I think I've ever seen. "Who the fuck is y/n?" He whispers, the microphone right against his prosthetic as he says it. This makes the whisper sound like a scream and, as a result, the other three jump in surprise.

"You don't get to know y/n, she's ours," Larry jokes, sticking his tongue out to tease Sally.

"Okay, fine." Sally backs up, his pretty hands gripping onto the armrests of his chair. He's wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt and a chain around his neck. His nails are painted black and multiple rings adorn his fingers— as per usual. "But is she hot?"

I choke on my bite of ice cream, spluttering pale green all over my dad's black carpet. The thought of staining his beloved carpet doesn't even cross my mind as I stare at the screen with wide eyes, watching as Sally Face waits patiently for his friends to recover from their surprised laughter.

"What's so funny?" Sally asks calmly, electric eyes flitting back and forth across the screen.

Larry takes a deep breath, one last laugh leaving him as he places a hand on his heart. "Bro, I can't even lie. I had the biggest crush on her whenever I knew her. She left a couple years before you came along." Larry winces, like he's just remembering that his millions of viewers will be seeing this video-- including me. "Sorry if you're watching this, y/n. I promise I'm over it but anyone can see that you're adorable." He shrugs, winking at the camera.

I let out an obnoxious laugh, a smile forming on my lips as I continue watching. Larry has always been hilarious, though I never knew he had a crush on me.

Todd closes his left eye, a little quirk of his. He always does this when he's thinking. "Well," he sighs, tapping his index finger against his arm. "She's beautiful, I'll say that. But I'm gay, so like, I'm not Larry. I've never wanted to fuck her. Unlike someone, apparently."

Larry shoots forward, a serious expression on his face as he starts yelling out to defend himself. "Fuck off, Todd! I never said I wanted to fuck her, I just said I had a crush on her! She's hot!"

This has gotten a bit crazy. When I sat down to watch this video after Ash begged me to put it on earlier, I expected to giggle a bit and relax on my one off-day of the week. I didn't expect to be hearing about famous streamers, who are also my friends, wanting to dick me down.

I feel like I've just worked a double shift.

I place my melting carton of ice cream on the wooden floor at the foot of the couch, my eyes never straying from the TV screen as I watch Larry and Todd bicker.

Ash and Sally watch, seemingly just as horrified as I am.

After a couple seconds, Larry runs a hand down his face, sighing as he listens to Todd get a good laugh out of the situation.

"Okay," Sally awkwardly drags out the word. "So we have one vote for hot, one vote for beautiful. What's your opinion of the mysterious y/n, Ash?"

Ash hums, smiling brightly. "I vote both. Y/n is the hottest and most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Sally Face nods his head and I smile. Ash has always been so kind to me, though I think she, Larry, and Todd are hyping my looks up a bit too much. I'm not the hottest or the most beautiful.

"So the important question now, Ash, is would you fuck y/n?" Sally asks. What a dick.

I scoff at the screen, scrunching my face up. He knows that we're all close, clearly. Todd and Larry joking with each other about his crush is all in good fun, but the tone in Sally's voice shows that he's trying to start shit.

Ash narrows her eyes, "Yes, actually, I would."

I pause the video, my smile so wide that it genuinely hurts. I debate calling Ash for a moment just to give her a little smooch through the phone and tell her how much I love her. But I can always call her later. There's only two minutes left of the video anyway.

Larry chortles, Todd following with a very similar sign of amusement.

Sally nods, humming again. "Okay. Two points for hot, two points for beautiful. Those ratings are pretty good."

He pauses, lifting a hand and suddenly waving them off dismissively. "But you guys have terrible taste, so I doubt she lives up to the hype you guys gave her."

What the fuck did he just say?

I shoot up into a sitting position, scooting toward the edge of the couch with my jaw dragging along the fabric. Did I hear that correctly?

Sally looks into the camera. I feel like he's staring me directly in the eye, a sarcastic and cocky look in his gaze as he says, "Sorry, Y/n Whoever-You-Are."

Come again?

—————————

A/N:::::

I don't have much planned for this book just yet, but most of you know what I'm about. Expect angst, expect comedy, and most of all, EXPECT SPICE!

THIS IS JUST A PROLOGUE TO GIVE EVERYONE A TASTE AND I WILL NOT BE UPDATING AGAIN UNTIL I AM FINISHED WITH MY OTHER BOOK!

Sorry for the caps, just wanna make it loud and out there :P

As always, I love you all so much and I'm so excited to start this new, lovely journey with you guys :3

~Ryver <3

[mae-gi-writes]

Calling... | Juyeon (tbz)

Juyeon tbz! x f! reader 

Summary:

Long distance is hard, even for people like you and Juyeon. 

Genre: angst, some fluff, LDR relationship

A/N: some self-indulgent angst because I’ve been feeling low these days and have nowhere/no one to vent it to. 

-----

"We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I promise.” 

That promise. You’re not sure whether that’s a curse or a blessing. Every single day becomes a torturous game between wanting to give up everything that you’ve built with the man of your dreams and pushing forward towards the happy ending you’ve always hoped for. 

It was easier in the beginning. Maybe because you were both so new to the prospect of love, that you didn’t know what you were missing from each other. It only grew harder the more the years went by and though some people said that the pain gets easier, you’re not quite sure whether they’ve supposedly missed out the part where you keep falling deeper in love with him every day. 

Maybe if you didn’t love him so much, it would hurt less. And god, you wished that would happen. You wished a miraculous cure would numb the swell in your chest every time you had a spare moment to think of what Juyeon was doing. You wished that it would stop the familiar burn of tears tearing your throat apart every time you forced yourself to keep down your choked cries for the sake of not crying. Because you were sick of that too.

This kind of pain is toxic and unsurmountable, to an extent that you start wondering whether life would be easier without Juyeon around. 

"A few more months Y/N,” Juyeon says, face taking up your phone screen as you put the device onto your nightstand in favour of curling your knees up to your chest. You’re trying very hard not to cry, and hope that he can’t see the silent tears slipping past your lids, “it’ll go by quickly, I--” 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you mumble out, having already heard this mantra over a thousand times. It’s the same thing, after all. A few more months, a little bit more time, just a little-- you’re so fed up of all this waiting, of everyone telling you the exact same thing. 

You’re so sick of it. You can’t even look at the camera anymore.

"Where...Where do you think we stand?” comes his question. A little hesitant, but without any stutter. And when you look back at his face, you notice the downward cast of his eyes, the saddening turn of his lower lip. 

It’s hurting him just as much and you hate it. You hate how guilty you feel about dragging him into this when he’s only just a victim. 

“What do you mean?” you ask softly. 

Juyeon takes a soft breath, exhales, “like...do you think we have a hundred percent chance? Or...fifty percent? Or...” 

He trails off, but you understand what he means, and shrug while scratching the back of your head, “definitely not a fifty,” you say, biting your lip, “and...there’s nothing that can make me say we’re less than a hundred, but...” 

You’re not certain what to say there. It’s touchy, and you don’t want to hurt your boyfriend more than you are at this particular moment. 

If you had been asked a question a year earlier, there is no doubt your answer would’ve straight up been a hundred percent. And you’d say it with confidence too, Juyeon knows that.

But it hurts so fucking much.

It hurts so much that it’s the only thing you can think about every day. 

It makes you sad. It makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry because there is literally nothing else you can do to take your mind off it. 

"Do you...are you--" his voice wobbles, then breaks off without courage of actually saying the words out loud, "I--"

You shake your head, lips trembling as you murmur, "I'm not--I`m not gonna do that, Juyeon."

You fear that saying the words out loud might make it come true. And you don't want to imagine what that would be like, even if you entertain the possibility at the back of your mind.

The silence overcrowds the distance between you and the phone. For a minute, you can't bear to meet Juyeon's eyes. Your fingers start picking your nails apart, a nervous habit you've manifested whenever you get anxious.

When Juyeon speaks next, his words are laced with pain and he doesn't even try holding back a sob, "please," he exhales shakily and even from your tiny screen, you can see the redness lining his eyes, "please don't break up with me."

Your heart aches at the sadness etched onto his features, "I'm not," you repeat it more firmly then, "I won't."

He doesn't answer. But then again, you've probably shocked him to the core.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," you say quietly.

"No, it's okay. I--" running a hand through his dark locks, you note his jaw clenching, "I didn't know you felt this way. I'm the one that should be sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It is, though isn't it?" He chuckles emptily, "I guess I...I'm not doing enough."

"That's not it, Juyeon. It hurts a lot. This, everything. And I'm just tired. I'm tired of always crying. I'm just so fucking tired."

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

----

The weather has gotten warmer now that June is in full swing. Your final semester is over and that means a little bit of freedom before starting your job search. It is enjoyable and peaceful, walking across town with your friends, meeting up at odd hours of the day and finding new treasures that your town has to offer.

You are currently in the middle of parking your bike next to the harbourfront when your phone suddenly buzzes in your pant leg.

"Hey," you say as you pick up the receiver, "what's up?"

"Hey," there's a little bit of static before Juyeon'a voice comes through, "I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm at the harbourfront. Getting some air."

"That's nice," a pause, then, "how was it?"

"I think I might have enjoyed it more than I should've," you tell him as you walk up to the edge of the harbour. The water lolls peacefully against the edge and it calms you down, as the talk has earlier, "it helped. A lot."

He breathes out softly, "that's good to hear. How...how do you feel?"

"Surprisingly serene."

"Woah, fancy description."

You can't help but laugh at that, "thanks. I try."

A comfortable silence fills the air and you lean down, hand outstretched to catch some of the waves lapping up along the edge, "and you?" It's been a while since you've managed to speak to Juyeon properly. You miss him, "how have you been?"

"Oh you know," you hear him shuffle, "keeping myself busy. I started working at a skateboard shop. It's been...interesting."

"Do you even know how to skateboard?"

"I can stand straight on one. Does that count?"

You giggle, "no, you goon. You actually have to be able to skate on it."

You talk for a little while longer as you enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with a breathtaking view. Even more breathtaking as the sun slowly sets over the horizon and giving bloom to hues of orange and salmon pink bleeding into the clear blue sky.

It has been nice to talk to someone. As per Juyeon's request a few weeks earlier, you had decided to sign up for a free counselling session. You weren't a big fan of people poking around your thoughts and feelings, but the consultation had actually been really enjoyable. To unleash everything that you've been carrying in your heart is a weight that has suddenly lifted off your chest, and you feel shades lighter as you spend the reat of your evening roaming through town, getting your groceries, walking along the pavement back to your flat.

"I gotta go now," Juyeon says as you unlock your front door, "Changmin's been bugging my ass for thirty minutes."

"Well please tell him I have nothing to do with this."

"You had everything to do with this."

"Lying will get you nowhere."

"And I will tell him anyway," he singsongs, causing you to chuckle good-naturedly. That is, before the next words come to shake up your heart a little.

"I miss you."

You smile softly, sadness combing through your chest, "I do too, Juyeon."

"Stay safe, okay?"

"You too."

"Talk soon Y/N," his voice is filled with a gentleness that makes your heart sing, and you repeat back the said words, a mixture of melancholy and fondness blooming inside your chest.

Ending the call and setting down your groceries atop the kitchen counter, your eyes find the date circled in red.

Your lips curl into a smile.

----

"Flight A472 has arrived. Travelers, please make your way to the luggage section.“

The intercom buzzes with static to repeat the earlier statement and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as you slowly get up from your seat. You've been waiting at the nearby fast food joint until now, and it's no surprise that your butt feels numb and flat.

Stretching your limbs and picking uo your bag, you sling your navy coat over your shoulder and make your way towards the arrivals. The airport is deserted at this time of night and you're grateful, for it gives your heart more time to prepare for the man you haven't seen in over eight months.

Eight months. Eight months is a long time. It's almost the time it takes for a baby to be born. You flush at the thought, wondering whether Juyeon sees you in his future just as permanently as you see him.

"Who are you waiting for?" Your head swivels to see an older woman, in her late fifties, with a handbag slung over her shoulder and a burgundy scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Oh, uh--" heat travela up the back of your neck, "someone close. And you?"

"My daughter. I haven't seen her in over two years," the woman smiles fondly, "it's hard, isn't it? Not being able to see your close ones every day."

"Yeah," you mumble, "it sure is."

Your gaze is now fixated on the sliding doors now that people have started walking out. One by one, you watch as strangers hug their families, laughing and smiling. A couple is embracing in a nearby corner. And the old woman brightening up and waving at the sight of her daughter pulling up her luggage.

Your chest can't help but swell with emotion. What a beautiful thing to be admire the magic of a reunion. Tears rush to your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of love radiating through your veins and bathinf your limbs in warmth.

"Y/N."

You freeze. Slowly, you turn around and see Juyeon.

Your Juyeon.

He stands there, backpack on his shoulders and hair ruffled. A luggage at his side and sporting a grin.

Your heart explodes.

Heat rushes through your face, mouth opening in a soft 'oh'.

"Juyeon," his name rolls off your lips.

You're breathless. Everything falls out of focus.

Juyeon. Juyeon is here.

Everything happens so fast. You blink and you're in his arms, his warmth engulfinf you, his scent making you light-headed, his lips permanently pressed against your temple as your hands unconsciously scrabble to hold on to his hoodie like he's a dream you don't want to let go.

It's magical. It feels like a goddamn miracle.

You can't help but burst into tears.

"Oh god," Juyeon's chuckle echoes through your ear. He tightens his grip ever so slightly and kisses your forehead, the corner of your eye while stroking your back.

You cling to him like he's your only lifeline, "I missed you," you sob into his shirt, "I missed you so much."

"It's okay," he cooes into your ear, one hand coming up to smooth over your head, "I'm here now, Y/N."

"I--" emotions rush through you like a dam broken down by the tides and suddenly you're babbling everything you've kept hidden in the grooves of your heart, "I'm so sorry for everything, I-- I was hurt and scared and lonely. I didn't think about how this distance affected you too and I'm sorry I made you go through all this when you did nothing wrong, I--"

Your words get muffled by his lips pressing onto yours to stop any other protests and you melt into him like coming home with open arms. His arms pin your middle to his chest, parting your mouth with his and taking your breath away with every suckle, every nibble. It makes you gasp, clutching his shoulders and returning his kisses with just as much vigor.

"You," he breathes against your parted mouth, "are everything I want," pulling back to press his forehead to yours, he continues, "so don't you dare think for one second, that you're in this alone. You're never alone, Y/N."

"I love you," you murmur, nose brushing his. He kisses you once more, heat lingering between you and claiming your affection for him, "I love you too."

You know that this isn't the end. A path of tears and pain and struggle still await you. The mountain is high and steep, a tough climb that makes youe legs tremble.

But you know now, looking into Juyeon's eyes and seeing the magic in there, the dripping affection that makea your fingers tingle, that this is it. There's nobody else, nothing else you want than Lee Juyeon.

Because if there's one thing for sure is that Juyeon's hand is the one you want to take, to make that climb happen.

"Wanna get out of here and tell me everything I've missed out about you?" Juyeon whispers upon finally detangling himself, though still holding on to your shoulder as he gently pulls you towards the exit.

"Only if you tell me everything I've missed about you," you reply.

He chuckles, before pressing another lingering kiss over your cheek, "deal."

[oswinsdolma]

Yes, it's nearly 2.00am (because that's apparently the only time I have inspiration to write essays) but I've been thinking a lot about this lately and wanted to get it off my chest, so here you go:

The main goal of Merlin becomes disturbingly fractured along the way, which opens up the gaps for the prophecy to seep through instead of following the expected channels, but it can essentially be boiled down to three key elements 1) build albion; 2) decriminalise magic and 3) save Arthur, but when all is said and done, we never really see any of those objectives achieved.

Now, there are a few reasons for this, both from a writing perspective and a plot perspective. The first, and one of the most obvious, is that this show loves irony. I won't go into a lot of detail here because I've already written a whole ass essay in this very subject, but in a nutshell, you can look at this from two perspectives: firstly, it's important to establish that this technique is purely about the angst: it's the writers' way of provoking a reaction from an anguished audience, but it's foreshadowed just enough to make it more painful than it is shocking. Alternatively, there is the more plot motivated irony in that it genuinely makes a good story. Irony is a technique that has been used for thousands of years, not just because it provokes a reaction from the audience, but because it allows you to explore your characters in greater detail than before, riddling them with hidden juxtapositions and internal conflicts that are never resolved quite in the way you expect. The irony in Merlin is the epitome of this, with the whole motif of Arthur needing to die for his reign to begin. It is a classic example of the simultaneous despair and hope that mocks you from the shadows.

Following this, there is another force at play that deals with half truths and seemingly imperfect contradictions, and that's prophecy. It's not really a secret that I have very strong feelings about prophecy and its effects on all the characters, Merlin in particular, and the fact that fate and destiny are such key themes in Merlin both makes perfect sense and wants me to smash my head into a brick wall. Prophecies are another common trope that often go hand in hand with irony (think Oedipus Rex, Macbeth, The Iliad, all that doomed hero shit that I inexplicably adore), the key to their influence over the plot often lying in how they usually come true in the most unexpected of ways. This links back to that initial theme of irony, but this isn't what makes me angry: what is infuriating is that prophecies tend to come true, no matter what, and most of the characters seem not only to know this, but to let it take their autonomy over their respective fates, driving them to disaster.

Let me elaborate: especially in season five (I'm assuming just for the added fall at the end), Merlin talks a lot about how "one day, things will be different". He tells sorcerers that one day they won't have to hide. That one day, they won't have to live in fear of who they are and what others think of them. And Merlin is right: while it is not explicitly stated, it's generally established that this is one of the things Merlin should actively be working towards. But here's the kick: except for a few specific circumstances, when has Merlin ever actively tried to change Arthur's mind about magic? Yes, he has taken a few opportunities, like with Dragoon saving Uther's life, or with the Dolma's final request, where he has encouraged Arthur to rethink his choices, but otherwise, his support has been lukewarm at best. Instead, his primary concern was always saving Arthur, so he can become the king the magical world hoped he'd be, but he left out a crucial part, trusting in the prophecy to fill in the gaps. He knew it would come true, but it was, almost predictably, in the one way he never dared to expect.

And in a twisted way, there's that thread of irony again: Merlin thought he was saving Arthur so he could one day become the king who would see magic as a force for good, but instead, he created someone who was merely a survivor. It was Kilgharrah who said it first, and he who would mention it last: they are two sides of the same coin. But as willing as Merlin was to give his life for Arthur, and vice versa, he was never really ready to give him his mind.

Another interesting thing to note is Merlin's fixation on the "Saving Arthur" lens of the prophecy over the "Restoring Magic" part. Now, there are a ton of ways you can look at this, depending on how far along the scale of Queer Analysis you are, so I'm going to try and address a couple. At one end of the scale, you have the fairly simple and very believable "merthur" take. This basically boils down to the fact that Merlin and Arthur may or may not be deeply in love with one another, and that drowns out any voice of reason that may unfold. This is actually fairly canon compliant, particularly looking at incidents such as the Disir, when Merlin chooses Arthur over his and his people's freedom, though that choice was clearly, in hindsight, misadvised.

At the other end of the spectrum, there is the idea that it is the work of Kilgharrah, Gaius and other responsible figures in Merlin's life when he was new to his role in destiny, who reiterated at every occasion that Arthur must be protected at all costs. This may have ingrained into Merlin's thoughts and influenced his decisions from here on out.

Between those two points, there is a grey area, and I am of the personal opinion that neither extreme entirely satisfies the situation. For me, I think the characters in question are far too complex to have such simple motivations, and that the true reason lies somewhere between the two: Merlin undoubtedly cares for Arthur, and while at the start, his actions in protacting Arthur may have been driven by other (largely superficial) motives, over time, their mutual affection blossomed to the point where certainly the more personal quests were motivated not by need, but by love. However, there is a divide here, and while the line in the sand smudges from time to time, it never really disappears: a lot of instances in which Merlin is trying to help Arthur are entirely overshadowed by destiny, and in time, Merlin comes to accept that Arthur and Destiny are, in fact, one and the same, and this is where that ever-present tragedy lies. For all he truth in here, Merlin doesn't get everything quite right: he sees Arthur as a balance that needs to be protected, without fully realising that he doesn't just have to keep the sides of his equation in equilibrium, but he actually has to start solving them if he wants them to endure.

Having just said all that, sometimes I decide to fuck over complexity for a few hours purely because I am a shameless merthur hoe.

Also, can you take a moment to please note that this last section is highly subjective and it is completely up to you as to what you decide!! This is just my opinion and you're welcome to agree or disagree at any point.

So, aside from the Angst Factor™ and twisted character development, why was the main goal never fulfilled? Unfortunately, that is a question far cleverer people than me can only speculate, as the writers alone know the answers, but I'm going to give my opinion a shot. Honestly, there is something beautifullly poetic about something that never ends, or ends when there could be something more. Humanity has struggled with endings-and beginnings- since it learned truly how to think, because that kind of finality, that inkling that there might have been nothing before and after something else is incomprehensible. In leaving Merlin in a place where the next point was uncertain, the writers left the story open for us. In depriving us of that catharsis, they effectively made sure that the story would never be over, not until we want it to be. And yes, it was painful. I can't think of an ending that was more heartbreaking than that curious mixture of closures and openings all at the same time (hell, I could write a whole essay based on this concept alone!), but it was also a gift, ironically like that of the prophecy itself in that we can choose what we want to do with it, safe in the knowledge that there will be a happy ending again, one day.

In summary, we might not be left with catharsis in the way we wanted. We might not have got the happy ending that could also have stretched on and on indefinitely. But we were left with something else, something equally beautiful as closure, but in the complete opposite way. Amongst the remains of allwe had hoped to build, Merlin left us hope.

[blushing-titan]

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about chapter 138 again, and I came to a few conclusions. First and foremost, I’m surprised at the amount of Mikasa’s fans who are happy about the possibility of the cabin vision being an actual AU. Mikasa has been one of my favorite characters pretty much since the beginning, but I feel like - if the AU is real - it’s a huge step back for her progress and general well-being. Let me explain my point below - warning, it’s pretty long! I’ll be using manga panels (I obviously don’t own them, all credits go to the author!), and there will be spoilers.

My perspective on Eremika

I’m a firm believer that Eren and Mikasa’s relationship is a bit too unhealthy for Mikasa, at least in it’s current state - to me, it’s clear as a day that it’s way too unbalanced. Mikasa just invests more in it - it’s been shown countless times, both in the manga and anime, that Eren’s safety and well-being is her top priority. He’s on her mind most of the times and she constantly wants to be near him - she thinks of him as her safe place and home.

But what about Eren? He’s often irritated and suffocated by her overprotectiveness. He’s quite a proud person who doesn’t want to be constantly saved - despite generally needing it sometimes. In my eyes, it’s another imbalance - Eren wants to be the strong one, but since Mikasa is just naturally better at that, he constantly feels belittled, like it’s a form of rivalry.

On top of that, throught the entire series Eren has his own set of dreams and goals that doesn’t necessarily always revolve around Mikasa - all while Mikasa makes up her plans and goals solely around Eren. She even admits that all she wants is just to be at his side.

What concerns me too, however, is that Mikasa often puts Eren’s safety and well-being over her own - and it’s something that she realizes. 

Sometimes, Mikasa’s friends act as a voice of reason, but when someone tries to raise any objections or concerns against Eren, she usually backs him up or tries to rationalize his actions. In the example below, Jean is concerned about the scar that Mikasa got after she got attacked by Eren (right after Eren lost control over his titan in chapter 12).

On top of that, Mikasa can be very passive, and even uncritical when it comes to Eren’s more questionable actions. There are times in which the latter can get a bit too blunt, or even straight up mean, but Mikasa either protects him, tries to justify his actions or is literally immobilized by them - like in the scene in which Eren insults her and proceeds to fight Armin, who’s been trying to back her up. Notice how Mikasa is unable to stop Eren from continuously attacking Armin (when, a reminder, the latter one stood up for her), but immediately jumps in to stop Armin from attacking Eren. You can clearly see that even she is shocked by her reaction.

We can also see her being in denial about Eren’s hurtful actions later on. She doesn’t even want to talk about it when Jean brings it up:

She’s also still concerned and worried about Eren a few chapters later, after he had done and stated that he’s about to do terrible things - even at times when her other friends were endangered. This time, it’s Armin who tries to act as a voice of reason.

Now, before we get ahead of ourselves: 

Do I think that Eren doesn’t care about Mikasa, or even hate her (as he said)? No - she’s obviously extremely important to him and he was definitely lying during the table scene. Personally, I’ve never seen him having any romantic feelings towards her, but that doesn’t mean anything - love doesn’t always have to be romantic and I 100% believe that she’s still someone who he holds very dear to his heart. There are many moments that show that he’s also very protective of her, and that - along with Armin - she’s one of the most important people in his life. 

But my point still stands - aside from that, the relationship is just too unbalanced to be considered healthy, especially for Mikasa. Both Eren and Mikasa see it in different light, which often cause them to collide. I just can’t help but feel like Mikasa sacrifices too much for it, too - she often ends up jeopardizing her safety, constantly worries about Eren and clashes with her friends because of it. To some extent, Eren may be doing some of these things as well - but let’s be 100% honest, never nearly as much as Mikasa does. He fiercly protects her when she’s in danger and backs her up when he agrees with her, but at the end of the day he has his own goals and opinions. He doesn’t fixate himself with Mikasa nearly as much as Mikasa does it with him - he’s never jealous of anything but her skills, meanwhile she's often on alert when he’s around other girls. In the manga, she’s displaying jealousy over Annie and Historia, in the anime we can add Hanji to that pool, while in A.O.T. Wings of Freedom she’s also jealous of Sasha and even freckled Ymir - all while Eren remains oblivious and - in these situations, rightfully so - annoyed.

We know that there are reasons why Mikasa treats Eren like this. He obviously saved her life when they were children, but it’s also because she was strongly traumatized by losing both her biological family, and then people who took care of her right after that. It’s only natural that she does anything in her power to not go through that again...

...but it’s important to question if the way her relationship with Eren goes - how she commits to it 100% and how it affects her - is really the best way for her to heal and eventually live a happy life. I believe that Eren himself saw that it was becoming too toxic for Mikasa - and, considering that he actually cares for her and knows that he doesn’t have all the time in the world, he focused on making her move on. In my opinion, that’s why he wanted to push her away during the table scene. It’s also why he tried to get rid of the scarf that Louise brought to him. Even if the execution is far from perfect, he still wants what’s best for her, so he tries to put an end to enabling her unhealthy coping practices. He wants her to live a long, happy life.

Soooo...how does “the cabin AU” fit into all of this?

The answer is simple - it doesn’t. It’s a huge mixture and repetition of everything that’s harmful about Mikasa’s obsession with Eren. It’s a confirmation that Mikasa would be able to leave the entire world for 4 years of constant lying to herself. To betray her friends, leave everything behind, act as if everything was going to be okay and, in turn, make it all worse for herself. Because let me remind you one thing - Mikasa will go on living after Eren looses to the titan curse...but what will she do from now on? Will she stay in the cabin forever, alone and with no one to talk to - no one to share the pain after saying her final goodbye to Eren? Will she come back to the war-ridden world and face her old friends - like Armin who must have been frantically looking for her and Eren? Some of these friends may not want to have anything to do with her after all that - some may be already dead. Maybe there’s no place to go at all.

In my opinion, Eren being okay with this would ultimately prove that he doesn’t care about Mikasa’s wellbeing - and, as I’ve said before I just don’t think that’s the case at all. On top of that, as stated in the beginning, it would serve as a regress of Mikasa’s character - she wouldn’t be able to overcome her weaknesses, which would only make her life harder in the long run. Therefore, I simply can’t accept this vision to be an AU. What do I think it was, then?

Mikasa believes in Eren’s good heart, despite all awful things he commits - she repeatedly says that he does it all for them - his friends...and yet she wants to believe that there must have been a way to not let it all happen. A part of her may be blaming herself, which is why she questions if she could have changed anything by giving him a different answer. 

To me, it’s very obvious and I have to admit: I was horrified to see the amount of fans saying “If only she hadn’t family-zoned him, so many people would still be alive!”. Mikasa was NEVER to blame here and her answer should never have a force to change something like that. At the end of the day, it was Eren’s decision to go on with the rumbling, and I hate to see Mikasa (and the fans, too!) putting any blame for it on her.

In conclusion, I really believe that the vision was Mikasa’s daydream - most likely created as a coping mechanism since at this point she knew what was about to happen - what she had to do. Not any AU flashback, but rather a poor, traumathised girl trying to come to terms with the cruel reality - and ultimately reclaiming her strength. In her mind, she comes back to her safe place for a few moments, just to get a bit of comfort - a place where she and Eren live peacefully and safely. In fact, the panel below may suggest that she was dreaming about something similar ever since the training days:

I also believe that, at some point, Eren enters that dream - perhaps somehow through paths, or is sent there by Ymir. There, he once again reminds Mikasa that he wants her to live long, be free and forget about him.

I think in the end, Mikasa rejects that fake utopia, finally understanding that it could never happen and it was not her fault. She accepts the reality as it is and stops rationalizing Eren’s actions. She also comes to terms with her feelings towards him, but won’t let it cloud her judgement anymore. She will remember him and cherish these memories forever, but acknowledges that it has gone too far - she chooses humanity, the world and finally: a long, happy life for her. Just like Eren would want for her.

This time, Mikasa wraps the scarf around herself.

If you’re here, wow - thank you so much for reading, it means a lot! I’m sorry for any mistakes I’ve made while writing - English is not my first language and I didn’t really have anyone to beta-read this long wall of text xd Hope I made my points clear - and just to clarify, my text is not an invitation for any ugly Mikasa haters. As I’ve said before, she’s one of my favorite characters and I hope for the best for her - she’s been through so much, poor girl needs a break :C

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

oooh may i request eren with a female s/o who doesn't put up with his bullshit? Like when he gets jealous n stuff

So I turned this into a break up fic because why not!? I live to hurt my own self while writing. I was listening to Noir By Sunmi while writing this hence the title.

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Tags: angst, breaking up, seriously angst, modern au

Warnings: mentions of jealousy, angst, seriously. Just angst.

Noir

There is a despicable attire masking the way you're looking at Eren. The feeling that's boiling in the depths of your chest as you're sitting across from him on your kitchen table is indescribable. It's mixture of anger and determination, merged with heavy specs of remorse, whether it is for yourself or him, you haven't decided yet.

Your reflection in the glass of the kitchen table is mocking you. In it you can see a few of the cupboards behind you, you can see your inox fridge that's decorated in numerous small polaroids and you can see your hair, being messy and tousled, just like it always is when you're staying indoors. But you- no, your face. Your face looks deformed and blank, lost in the aggravating aspects of an angered expression.

Setting your eyes to any where but Eren isnt a simple task. Rather, you find no interest in looking at the borders between the marble tiles of the floor. They were plain and annoying to look at, but if you could you'd pretend they could calm you down. Keeping your huff in though, you alternate your gaze onto the top of the counter, onto the tap of the sink. You squint, pretending to take a good notice of the forms that light reflects into the object.

"I just don't want other guys being too touchy with you." Eren groans.

"Aren't we over this?" You roll your eyes.

"Yes, just pointing out that you wouldn't like that either."

There he goes again and you can't help but immediately snap your orbs to his direction. You have lost count of how many times he has mentioned it in only the span of five hours. He mentioned in while taking a shower, he mentioned it while working out, be mentioned it while cooking yet you've chosen to ignore him. Yet you know that ignorance doesn't benefit anyone, ever.

And you shouldn't act as if you're surprised, especially since you haven't addressed this. This is Eren. This has always been Eren. Expressing your concerns to Eren about how you feel he should trust you more has never worked, why should it work now?

"Eren, I can trust you that you won't let anyone do that!? Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but."

"But?"

"I don't trust what others want to do to you. And what if you give in? Did you just wake up one day and decided to just devote ourself to me specifially?"

Eren is bitterly jealous. There's this spite that's hiding the aqua lines of his eyes, this sour mood that he always carries around when he gets in it. This stops him from being able to eat even slightly to normal; his hands are nervous and sweaty, his fork is abandoned to the side of his plate, his thumbs tapping onto the flat sides of his plate as if he's waiting for a response. There's not even the hint of a crump going down his throat, more so there's not a single bite taken off of his sandwich.

"Eren no one was touchy with me. Jean, Reiner, Armin, Marco... these are literally our friends since school!" You speak, munching onto your own food.

"I know."

"Then? Want to talk about it?"

You hate the way you make it sound like it's okay to casually be tender to him when he's judging you but you've been munching onto that bite of your cold noodles for a long time now. Your throat is refusing to take down bites anymore in result of you having stuffed your mouth to the full. It's an effort to shush yourself, to silence that voice that begs to come out and speak words you might regret.

"It's just." Eren pauses.

And you wait for his words to come out. By tapping your own hand onto the the glass of the table, you fixate your gaze onto Eren's uncomfortable form. You watch as his face gets buried to the palms of his hands, you watch as he refuses to face you while he clicks his tongue. His foot is rapidly tapping onto the floor, his hair is being pulled back by his fingers. The loud exhales he takes are indicators to the heavy weight that's sitting on his chest.

"It's so hard for me because I imagine you being with others, I don't want anyone to get their hands on something that's mine. And it's driving me crazy (y/n)."

Out of spite you push your eyes to the side. Facing Eren isn't something you feel like you're free to do at the moment. It's horrendous that you have to answer to that. Your heart is alternating between hammering inside your chest and dropping to your stomach. Your mind is confused as to what you should begin to think, or say. This is Eren, you keep repeating to your self, your spongy brain though is refusing to believe it.

It makes you wonder; Is this a time to be kind or is the last straw?

"Eren this is destroying you isn't it?"

Eren nods and then hides inside the neck of his hoodie, he pulls his sleeves over his palms and brings his elbows to the top of the table, setting them down as he leaned his face into his now clenched fists. You take it upon you to swallow that amount of food that's in your mouth up until now and when you do it goes down your throat dryly, painfully even. Your eyes are somewhat stinging, tiny little droplets are already starting to form in their corners.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"It's destroying me too. Your jealousy."

Your chest rises and falls, your eye brows furrowing paid fully over your eyes as you look down. You can feel the gaze that's fixated on you; Eren is burning holes through your form with his piercing gaze, even if you can't see it it's a fact that you can't help but ignore. You heart the clenching of your teeth as your jaw locks onto place, trying to salvage every aspect of what can be saved between you and Eren.

"Then what did you suggest we do?" Eren quarries with a soft voice, his arm reaching out to wiggle underneath the grip you have of your face and hair.

"I-"

Maybe you can try. Couples try and fight for each other. And then things are supposed to get better. When you're down he's supposed to help you reach the top and you're supposed to do that too. It just doesn't feel like that with Eren anymore. You feel like Eren is holding you back, you feel like he's digging and delving into the past in such way that present doesn't matter to him anymore. You hate to think that it's not healthy to stay with each other anymore. If you weren't so exhausted by this being your new reality, you would be willing to try.

Your hands move reluctantly from their grip on your head, your thumbs shivering as you moved then down and along Eren's cubits. You trace imaginary lines over his slightly olive skin. Your fingers, shaking as much as your thumb work into taking his hands on yours, as you're pressing your palms onto his knuckles slightly.

"Maybe we should take a break from each other."

Your lips feel lighter than air as you mouth the words, still you're more concerned about how Eren is taking the sentence up. It's not easy to digest; you moved your eyes onto his form and suddenly they're stuck there, that pained expression is suppressing your lips in a puckered state, harsh lines spreading all over the volume of your lips.

"I didn't say this for you to tell me that."

Eren throws his hands in a orbit that's years of light away from yours. He's not touching you anymore, and you lose every ounce of affection in your body. The stinging tears that had threatened to fall are starting to vanish, hiding inside the sponge tissue of the corners of your eyes. A shiver runs through you as you watch Eren's nervous foot stop it's rhythm.

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I've talked about this with you so many times. And I'm just not feeling like I can do this anymore. I wish I could fight about us even more, but I can't be the only one fighting. I feel horrible for saying this but Eren, saying this sentence felt liberating for me. I feel free."

"There's no need to explain yourself. It's fine. Fine. I made you feel this way and yeah." Eren bit his lip as he spoke.

"I didn't think we'd end like this."

"Me neither." He snarls.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be." His nose scrunches as he sniffles.

His eyes trace the uneaten sandwich in his plate, then they followed a forbidden path to you. But before he meets your eyes, he snaps his gaze back to what he was originally eyeing to distract himself. He wants to lash out, he wants to shout, but for what he doesn't know. It is rather odd to just sprout nonsense to someone who doesn't want to be standing across from him just because his devotions belonged to them up until second day ago.

Thus he bites on the inside of his cheek, pointy teeth digging into the soft flesh with fury, opening holes that he knows will be a pain in the ass before they heal again.

Without him, you'll be free. The phrase is a loop that's repeating into his head like a snap to reality.

Eren watchea as you bite your top lip and push your chair backwards, prompting your self up and away from the table, with your lips pushed into a thin line. He can see that it feels like a walk of shame, from your point in the kitchen to the sink, the way that your feet sound when clashing with the tiles of the floor indicate your need to not disturb him further. As if you're pitying him.

Eren grows to hate the way your pity presents it self. As if he is sick. But you are right.

"I'll go to sleep to Sasha's tonight and I'll come get my stuff tomorrow." You announced, without ever turning to look at him.

If he can work on himself he can try to get you back, he thinks and sighs. Nontheless he refuses to reply; he hasn't been given a right to reply to such statement. He can only let you go, and try not to be swallowed by the suffocating thought of you moving on without him.

At least now you can be free of that.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @puredivinity @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @lzrers

[ppersonna]

who’s your daddy? - jhs | thirteen

➸ in order to get over your hopeless crush, you sign up for DADDI, a daddy-dom dating site.  you can’t tell your friends, especially your best friend hoseok.  but as weeks go on, you’re desperate to meet the man behind the screen.

masterlist

thirteen- all yours.

warnings- oral sex (m,f), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, edging, orgasm denial, spanking, dirty talk, slightly degrading dirty talk, D/s, possessive dirty talk, fingering, cum eating, creampie, teasing, vibrators, praise

rating- explicit/nsfw/18+

a/n-Oh my god. it’s here.  it’s done. we made it.  we did it. pls let me know your thots. special thanks to @wwilloww​ for beta reading and @kookiesjoonies​ @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @taetaewonderland​ for the hype. ily all.

With a few finishing touches, the room is set.

You’ve dimmed the lights, closed the blinds, iced the champagne and prepped the bed.

Your body is smooth, exfoliated, ready.  You’ve never scrubbed and shaved and plucked more thoroughly in your life.

You can’t help it. You’re excited and nervous and scared and hopeful.

You want things to work out with Daddy.  You want to see if there’s a possibility of a future with him.  You want to meet the man who set your entire being on fire.

And yet, 

There’s a longing.  A deep-seated need for one singular man.

Jung Hoseok.

He’s all you can think about lately.  While Daddy always lingers—is always there in the back of your mind, Hoseok is omnipresent.   You think of his smile, the way he held you so close when he kissed you, the jokes, the years of friendship that built into something so romantic and easy.   

Your heart thumps heavily in your chest as you think of him.  As you think of him sitting at home after you turned him down for the date this weekend, as you think of him wanting you and you’re… preparing to sleep with another man.

But you couldn’t think of that.  Not now, not here.

It’s now or never with Daddy.  You have to know.  Or you’d live the rest of your life wondering.  

Your phone pings with an alert.

I’m here.

Your heart rate increases and you nearly pace the floor of the expensive hotel room.

How should you wait for him? Standing at the door?  Hiding in the bathroom?

You settle on the bed, lying as comfortably, yet as sexily as possible, ensuring your cleavage is visible in the baby blue robe you’re wearing.

You suck in a breath.

It’s happening.

It’s really fucking happening.

Over the pounding of your heart, you can hear the keycard click in the lock, allowing access to the cardholder.  You can’t see the door, it’s down a short hallway, but you can hear everything.

The door opens, footsteps, then it closes.

Then, it’s silent.

Your lungs burn—you haven’t taken a breath in for what feels like years.

“Babygirl?” 

You exhale loudly, hands nearly trembling with nerves.

“Daddy?”

The footsteps move closer, closer, even closer to the end of the hallway where you will both become visible to one another.

And then,

He’s there, and you’re gasping out loud. Your world slows, your brain short-circuits.   Every vein in your body is screaming out, begging for the man that sets your world on fire.

Jung Hoseok stands at the end of the hallway in his finest slacks and button up, Gucci belt tying the look together—black leather bag in hand.  His eyes are wide as he drinks you in—as reality settles in his mind.

“W-what are you doing here?” You ask through shaky breathing.

“I-,” he begins, then clears his throat. “I’m Daddy.”

You can’t move for too long.  You’re stunned to silence and frozen to the spot on the bed.  

You don’t have to choose anymore.

You don’t have to decide who to choose.

The choice was always Hoseok—it was always him.

As quickly as you froze, you’re leaping off the bed and throwing yourself onto Hoseok’s body, hugging him as tightly as you can.  He wraps his arms around you as you bury your face into his neck, tears springing up at your eyes.  

He smells like heaven; you realize.  He smells like your home, your future.

You pull back to press your forehead to his, smiling through watery tears.

“It’s you,” you murmur.

He nods, swallowing a lump in his throat as he does so. “It’s me.”

You kiss him with all the passion, all the pent up desire, all the need you’ve held onto in your body for both men.  For Daddy, for Hoseok.  For the man who made you feel so sexy, and the man who made you feel so loved.  

And lucky for you, he is both.

He pulls away from your lips, his bright smile mirroring your own.

“We really thought we missed out on a date with each other at coffee,” he laughs. “And we were on the date the whole time.”

You pull him tighter and press your face to his shoulder to laugh, amused at how fucking clueless you had been.

“I thought you stood me up, but I ended up having the best time of my life with you.  I can’t believe how stupid we are.”

Hoseok nods, and as you lift your head back, he cups your cheek.

“I am so fucking crazy about you,” he admits. “And I’m fucking wild for baby girl.  And you’re both.”

“I really like Daddy, but I fell for Hoseok.”

His hands tighten around your waist, and he presses soft, gentle kisses to your lips.

“That’s brilliant news,” he speaks through kisses roving your face. “Because I’m both.”

He guides your body towards the bed until the back of your knees hit the soft surface and you’re sinking down onto the plush mattress. 

Hoseok kisses you so deeply, like you’re the only person left on earth, and your body feels like it’s been set on fire.  Every part of you is singing in rapture from the man’s touch. 

His eyes are black—pupils blown wide when he pulls away from you.  It makes you shiver to see the sunshine in his eyes turn into sin. 

“Lay down on the pillows, baby,” he whispers as he stands up straight at the foot of the bed.  

You obey him without question, without falter. You slide back until your head rests on the plush, expensive pillows. Your body vibrates with excitement, trembling with need.  Hoseok’s eyes observe you, dark and lustful gaze as he undies the cuff buttons on his shirt, and rolls up his sleeves. 

“Untie that robe, angel.  Show me what’s mine.” 

His words imprint in your mind. His.  

You are his, fully and without question. 

Shaking fingers pull the belt that ties your robe together. The silk slides apart and you open it slowly like a gift until you’re exposed completely to the sharp-dressed man fixated on your every move. 

His lungs feel tight as your perky breasts come into view. 

He’s seen them on his phone, jerked off to them nearly a hundred times, but now he knows that it’s you and his cock pulses in his slacks. 

Your nipples prickle and peak in the chilly hotel air, and his lips are itching to wrap and suck and pull on them until you’re quaking. 

You work the robe completely off of you, and throw the expensive garment to the floor as if it’s nothing, as if you wanted nothing more in life than to be naked for him at all times. 

His eyes trace up your long legs, soaking in each curve of your slender calves and thick thighs.  They trail to the apex of those luscious legs, and he nearly salivates. 

“Spread your legs, baby girl,” he chokes. “Show me your pretty cunt.” 

Your face flushes, heat blooming in your cheeks—and yet you comply.  You’re unable to refuse. 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Hoseok’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, affected by hearing your voice use the honorific.  It’s something he never thought he could have in his wildest dreams—you and baby girl existing within the same body.  He can be himself, fully, both parts of him—with you. 

Your legs part instantly, slowly opening up your most intimate parts to the man who makes your heart burn with need. 

He can’t stop staring as your pussy opens up to him. Your legs spread wantonly, knees up to the sky and hips open wide.  Even from the end of the bed, he can see the way you drip with arousal.  

“Look at you.”  His voice is reverent, speaking a prayer to your cunt as he descends onto the bed and crawls towards your open legs. 

“Look at this sweet little pussy—so wet for Daddy.” 

You nibble at your lip, watching him with growing anticipation that makes your cunt seep out even more. 

“All for y-you,” you agree, nervousness making your words shaky. 

He begins his journey to your body by holding each calf and ravaging them with kisses. He presses his lips up to your knees—before peppering gentle adorations to your thighs. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he intones. “I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long.” 

Your eyes slip closed as you feel his adoration linger up and down your legs. It’s like Hoseok’s finished his pilgrimage to the altar of your body, and he’s here to offer his piety to you and you alone. 

He moves in further, allowing his fingers to trail closer to your cunt, tracing the moisture that has gathered up and down your slit with one finger 

“I’m gonna make you mine, baby doll.  All mine.”  He whispers the words like a prayer. 

“Yours, Daddy.”

He smiles. 

“And what’s your Daddy’s name?”

You gulp and shiver as his finger continues its teasing trace. It’s so light that it makes your needy core throb. 

“H-Hoseok,” you swallow. “Jung Hoseok.” 

His smile splits to a grin, and he rewards you with one fat lick of his tongue on your clit that makes you keen. 

“All fucking mine.” 

Your legs shake as you groan at his mouth that leaves you as soon as it comes. You need more, need all of him. You feel as if your core is burning, screaming with life. 

“P-please! Daddy!” You whine. “I need you!” 

Hoseok chuckles darkly, kissing the smooth skin of your mound and hips. 

“I know you do, angel,” he says. “And I intend to make you need me more before I give it to you.” 

Your back arches off the bed in a mixture of frustration and aching need.  Hoseok is determined to drive you to the ends of your wits tonight, make sure you’re literally putty in his hands by the time he fucks your desperate hole. 

He travels up to your breasts, licking and suckling marks on the full globes before he pulls your taut nipples into his warm mouth.  You’re whining his name, singing his praises as he nibbles and pulls on each bud. 

He spends enough time on each nipple they’re turning a crimson shade from his ministrations, and the skin of your breasts will bruise and be marked with love bites for days after. 

“My sweet baby girl,” he coos as he finally reaches your lips, kissing you sweetly as if he isn’t teasing your body within an inch of its life.

“I have so much planned for you,” he says as he kisses your face. “I can’t promise I will be this gentle all night.  Is that okay with you?”

His words stoke the flames in your tummy. You know Daddy can be hard, dominant, sadistic.  Knowing he’s Hoseok makes it even more thrilling, more intoxicating. 

“I want you—all of you,” you agree. “I want Daddy as much as I want Hoseok.  You’re one and the same.” 

He cups your cheek with a hand and tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear, eyes softening for a moment as he gazes down at you. 

“Then, you can have all of me.” 

One last sweet kiss is all he gives you, kissing you like you’re his one and only, his final. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are dark like an incoming storm you refuse to take shelter from. Hoseok and Daddy become one, and your body is screaming for the attention of the one who dominates you combined with the one who loves you in one singular body. 

“I think you still need a punishment for the way you spoke to me this week,” he tuts as he pulls away from your body to stand at the edge of the bed.  He remembers the bratty attitude you had as you messaged him, the way he had to put you in your place in your phone call.  He still remembers the way he could hear your soppy pussy squelch with the force of your fingers, and it makes him yearn.

Your doe's eyes simper at him apologetically, making his cock strain harder in its confines.  You’re the prettiest little submissive doll he’s ever laid eyes on, ever spoken to. Online, he fell for your sexual energy and passion. In person, for your character and your humor.  Both parts of you culminate into being precisely what Jung Hoseok no longer simply wants, but needs. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you speak gently. 

He retreats to the corner of the room where an elegant and plush armchair sits. He takes a seat and smiles at you, but the smile holds no sweetness in its meaning. 

“Come here, baby,” he beckons. 

As you’re rising from the bed and standing to walk towards him, he shakes his head and tsks. Your eyes focus on him in confusion. 

“Crawl.” 

You inhale shakily, head cloudy with lust as you comply and sink to the floor on your hands and knees. 

Hoseok crosses a leg over the other and watches you interestedly, a finger propping up his face in a laid back and casual sort of attitude that has your cunt dripping. 

He thrills as he watches you make your way towards him, crawling on your hands and knees for him.  He watches the way your perky breasts bounce and swing, and he is sure if he could see it, your pussy is dripping with arousal.  He can see it in the look in your eyes—the desperate need to be dominated swirling behind your seductress gaze. 

You stop at his feet and kneel in front of him, waiting for his word on what to do next. 

He’s silent for a moment and watches you.  So obedient. So good. His cock is begging for him to take it out and stuff it into you, but he’s patient. He has to be.  He doesn't want this to be a quick and rowdy fuck. That will come later in the evening.  He knows now if he drags this out, makes you cry enough times from orgasm denial, the one you’ll have when he’s finally cervix deep inside you, will ruin you for any other cock, any other man, for life. 

He sits upright, feet flat on the floor, and pats his lap.

“Lay over my knee,” he demands gently. “Put your ass in the air for me.”  

You shiver as you realize what’s coming.  Your body keens for the feel of his warm, firm hands delivering blows to each cheek of your ass. 

With delicate hands, you crawl up his legs and drape yourself over, bare tits pressed against the soft fabric of the chair, tummy on his expensive slacks. You lift your hips to extend your ass higher and Hoseok groans out loud.  

“God,” he sighs. “Such an obedient girl.” 

He spreads your legs apart so he can see the lips of your cunt peek through, so he can watch as your arousal growls with each blow like he expects it to. 

He lowers a hand down gently to rub at the smooth skin of your ass, tracing the globe gently. 

“Good girls who take their punishments get rewarded,” he reminds you. “... eventually.” 

He laughs gently and you shiver, knowing you’re in for a long night of delicious, pleasurable torture. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you agree and wiggle your ass slightly. “I want to be a good girl for you.” 

He rubs your ass for a moment longer, then lifts it away. 

“Then, tell me what you did to deserve my hand.”  

You swallow hard and close your eyes. 

“I back talked you,” you say. “And I was being a brat.” 

He hums in approval and nods, although you can’t see it. 

Instantly, his hand comes down hard on the skin of your ass, leaving a stinging strike on one cheek that makes you gasp. 

“You were,” he agrees as he soothes the red skin for a moment.  “And, what else?” 

You take a moment to catch your breath and gasp your response. 

“I didn’t believe you! I thought you stood me up.” 

He smiles as he remembers the coffee date with you, how cute you were as you sipped on shared drinks with him. 

Another smack to the opposite cheek now, just as hard and stinging as the first. 

The pleasure transcends the pain and the sizzle of the skin directs itself straight to your core. You can tell your cunt is juicing, perhaps even leaking onto the luxe fabric of Hoseok’s slacks.   You can’t help but moan and arch in his grasp. 

“Mm,” he sighs. “Do you like that, baby?  Does your pussy get nice and sloppy wet from getting spanked?” 

You can feel tears building up in your eyes as he brings his hand down again and again, the slaps echoing around the room.  

“I need you, Daddy!” You beg. Your core is burning with desire, aching for a touch. 

“I know you do, angel,” he says as he slaps your ass again, grunting with exertion. “I can see your greedy wet cunt, so needy for my cock.” 

He rubs another teasing finger down your slit and it feels like bliss, like torturous heaven. 

“P-please,” you cry. “I need you.” 

His fingers plunge into your wet heat, fucking into your tight channel.  Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the feeling of his thick fingers and your grip on the chair tightens. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He asks breathlessly. “You like Daddy’s fingers fucking your slutty cunt?”

Tears are pouring down your face, the pleasure so overwhelming that you can’t hold it back anymore. The remaining stinging pain on your ass combines with the stretch and thrusts of his fingers. 

“Answer me!” His voice raises slightly and you whimper in reply. 

“Yes! Yes, Daddy!” 

He uses his free hand to spank your ass again, hardest of all this time, while he continues to fuck into your desperate cunt. It’s overwhelming and your moans escalate in volume. 

“That’s right, slut,” he murmurs as he scissors his fingers inside of you, stretching out your hole for what he expects to be an endless night. “I’m the only one who can make this little cunt so juicy.” 

Your stomach tightens as you feel your orgasm building, feeling the sizzling heat of it swell from the tips of your toes and envelop you. 

“G-gonna c-cum, Daddy!” 

Hoseok becomes even more relentless, thrusting harder. 

“I don’t recall you asking for permission.” 

Instantly, he removes his fingers from you and gently encourages you to slip back to the floor.  You let out a sob as you crawl off his legs and down to the floor, kneeling in submission at his feet. 

“I’m s-sorry, Daddy!”  Your voice is shaky from having your oncoming orgasm ripped away from you.  

“Show me how sorry you are,” he speaks as he presses a thumb against your lips until they yield to him and open. “Show me you’re sorry by sucking my dick like the cock-hungry slut you are.”

You’re undoing his slacks before the words even leave his lips, trembling hands gripping the button and zipper to tug them down as far as you can. 

Your eyes widen as you see his expensive underwear bulge with what he’s packing. You know from photos that Daddy is impressive—thick and long. It flexes and slaps at his stomach in the videos he sent you of him jerking off to selfies of your tits. 

But now that it’s connected that it’s Hoseok, it’s almost like unwrapping a surprise as you pull the boxers down to reveal his hard length. 

He hisses as he feels the cool air, and his cock feels relieved at the freedom from confinement. It nearly pulses in excitement as he watches you stare it down, tiny hand coming to grip it firmly. 

“Shit,” he whines as your hand moves up and down the shaft. “Dreamt of this for so long.” 

Your lips curl into a smile and you rub the moisture beaded at the tip. 

“Dreamt of me or of baby girl?” You ask, coyly. 

“Both.” 

You nibble at your lip and return to stroking him carefully.  Your heart feels swollen with love, adoration, excitement at finally having the man of your dreams and your secret crush here, cock in hand.  You’re determined to show him just how glad you are to be the object of his desires. 

Your tongue darts out and licks gently at the mushroom tip, making Hoseok breathe harshly through his nose at the touch. You lick at the spot just underneath, where the tip meets the shaft, and Hoseok is gasping out loud. 

“Christ,” he whines. “Don’t be a tease, please.” 

Hoseok’s gentle nature shines through his dominance at your touch, his bravado momentarily slipping away from the pleasure.  You can’t refuse him—you don’t think you ever could. 

Effortlessly, your mouth opens wide and you suck in his length, moistening and swirling your tongue around him as you descend further and further down, all the way until his tip is forced at the back of your throat and your nose is buried in his abs. 

Hoseok’s eyes widen as he watches you—feels you take all of him in one descent. He can feel the back of your throat and knows you’re stuffed as far as you can take—perhaps even further—and yet you remain. His cock warms up in your hot mouth, tongue still anxiously working up and down whatever parts it can wrap and reach. His hand grips your hair at the back of your head gently, cooing praises as he lifts you back up with a gentle pull. 

“That’s my good little baby girl, taking Daddy’s cock so well.”  

You preen under his praise and as you resurface to the tip, your energy quickens as you bob your head and set a sloppy, slobbery pace. 

Hoseok watches you proudly, helps your head bounce on his cock with a firm hand on your skull. His cock has never been so hard in his life, and your hot little mouth is hitting spots that make him see stars. 

“Ahhh, fuck yes,” he whispers. “You suck my dick like you were made for it. My personal little cocksleeve.” 

His words flame like an inferno inside of you. 

“God, I can’t wait to fuck your sweet pussy, baby.  Bet your cunt was made for me too, meant for my cock only.”  

As if it knows, your core tightens and pulses around nothing.  

Hoseok watches you adoringly, eyes steady on you as your head bobs expertly. He maintains a steady stream of praise, dirty degrading comments about how good of a whore you are for him—comments that go straight to your cunt. 

He can feel his orgasm building and he knows he doesn’t want to yet, doesn’t want to cum anywhere but inside your hot, tight hole. 

He pulls up on your head, chuckling at your desperate eyes boring into his with confusion on why you’ve been stopped. 

“Go lie on the bed, baby. I need to get something for you.” 

You rise on weak and useless legs, doing as he asks and moving towards the bed and lie back on the pillows, watching as he digs through the black leather bag he arrived with.  He pulls out an impressive Hitachi wand that has you squirming on the bed from the sheer sight of it. 

He stalks towards you, predator towards prey, and lets the wand rest on the bed.  He slowly begins unbuttoning his shirt, slowly and purposefully dragging it out to watch your eyes widen and body shake with anticipation. 

His body is toned and perfect, just like you thought—just like you knew.  You’re nearly salivating as he pulls his slacks and underwear completely off and his cock stands proudly against a background of defined muscles. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe.  

He loves this, is thriving off the fact that you’re just as enamored as he is. 

Before you can register, he’s crawled on to the bed and is hovering over you.  Your lips are a breath apart and you’re sure you’ve stopped breathing—stopped thinking about anything that isn’t Hoseok. 

The wand lays heavy in his hand as he flicks the switch on.  The powerful vibrations are near thunderous in the otherwise quiet room and your pussy reacts with no stimulation.  You can feel your slick drip out of you, down to soak the blankets below.  

“Eager,” he muses as your legs spread wantonly with no instruction.  “Look at your soaked pussy.  You’re making a mess of the bed.”

Your cheeks flame, embarrassed by just how desperate you are for Hoseok, but your embarrassment doesn’t linger.  Hoseok doesn’t mention it to shame you. He revels in it, euphoric at the idea that he alone can turn you into a cock-hungry whore.

He lowers the toy and scoots towards you, kneeling in front of your open cunt.   The toy is centimeters away, you can nearly feel the air between it and you vibrating.  It stills your breath, seizes your lungs.  

“Are you going to be a good girl?” He asks, holding the device from your folds purposefully.  

You nod quickly, too quick.  Your brain is effectively shutting down, only working with the parts that scream of need for his cock. 

He chuckles his amusement at your anticipation.  Your fingers are working their way up your body, dancing on your skin and closing in on your nipples.  Hoseok notices and smirks. 

“Play with your pretty nipples, baby.  Pinch ‘em tight until it hurts.”

To show your obedience, your finger snags a bud in its grasp, pulling up and twisting slightly.  The pain is more than satisfying.  It wrenches a groan from your lips, as you ache for him to close the distance of the vibrating toy to your pussy.

“Good girl.”

He leaves you no room to reply, simply uses one hand to spread your cunt open with his fingers, while the other presses the ball-head of the toy directly to your clit.  

Your body spasms in reaction, a litany of screams falling from your lips as your back arches off the bed and your legs convulse.  The vibrations on your anguished clit makes your entire body feel electrified—like he’s attached a live-wire directly to your veins.

“H-Hoseok!!” You scream.  Your cunt drips more, pools below you and Hoseok thrills in watching the theater performance you’re putting on for him.

“Yeah, you like this, baby?” He asks, voice gaining a hard edge.  “You like it when Daddy plays with your clit?”

Your eyes are lolling back in your head, the indulgence of the act on your needy slit turning you brain-dead.  

“I asked you a question, baby girl.  Don’t make me punish you.”

Your lips quiver.  You’re not even sure how words work, not sure how to form what you’re thinking with any language you can convey.  Your moans come out blabbering, gasping a mixture of his name and ‘yes’ and ‘please’.  

The licking flames of your climax expands, reaches up and strangles you with intensity.  Your legs shake even further and your cunt is nearly pouring out your slick arousal.

Hoseok can tell you’re close now; he can tell by your increasing volume, your shuddering body that your orgasm is mere minutes—no, seconds away.

And, he can’t let that happen.

He takes the toy away and turns it off just as your mouth opens in a frenzy to scream your bliss.

Your eyes fly open.  Your body screams in agony, in desperation to cum, and cum hard, at that.  Hoseok has brought you to the brink so many times and never lets it stay.  He wrenches you back down to earth, and you’re gasping for more, body clenching and quivering.

“P-please, Hoseok,” you whisper.  Your ability to speak is still pitiful, still nearly impossible.  Tears of frustration pool in your eyes and slip down your face.  You’ve never been so turned on, so on edge, so absolutely frantic for someone in your life.

Hoseok wipes a tear away from your eyes with his thumb, shushing your needy whines.

“You’re going to cum on my cock,” he tells you.  “You’re going to cum so hard around me, and no one else—nothing else.  Only me, forever.”

Hoseok has you—hook, line and sinker.  He’s captured you completely in every aspect.  He has your heart, your soul, your cunt.  You knew you’d fall fast when you met the right one, and now he sits in front of your weeping pussy and promises you you’ll never need another cock, another man, in your life.  And you believe him.   You’ll never want another again—you’re sure of it.

He crawls up your body and kisses at your tears, kisses your lips sweetly and waits until your breathing settles.  He knows the edging is too much, nearly agonizing to take, and he’s desperate to reward you for your tolerance.

His hand grips his cock, lines it up and rubs it teasingly at your soaked slit. The action alone makes him grit his teeth, loving the way your soppy cunt leaks your arousal for him and coats the tip of him. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight, baby,” he whispers. “Gonna show you who’s cunt this is.” 

You don’t speak—you couldn’t if you tried.  You’re absolutely spellbound by him, and lost in the way his cock teases you and rubs at your engorged, needy clit. It throbs with desire for release, for his touch.  He’s dragging it out, teasing you as much as he can. He knows you’re on the edge—that you’ve been near an orgasm the whole night and he’s yet to allow you one. 

“I need to hear you,” he states. “Need to hear you beg for me.” 

You swallow hard, trying your best to activate your mind to formulate the words you need.

“Hoseok,” you gasp, eyes widening as he continues to tease your hole.  “Hobi, please.”

He nearly loses it at the sound of your nickname for him, nearly gives in to you completely—but holds back.  Just a bit longer, just a few moments more.

“I need you so bad,” you weep as a fat tear rolls down your cheek—tears forming from how desperate you are and how captivated you are that it’s him, that he’s the one above you giving you the world.  “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

There’s no need to whisper a reply.  Instead, he finally, finally, sinks his cock into your drenched heat, groaning as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

Your back arches up and you press your body up into his, prickled nipples pressing into his bare chest that makes him shiver as he bottoms out.  

He’s still, only for a moment, giving your body a moment to adjust.  He knows you’re so wet you won’t need long—your cunt is primed to accept his thickness.  

He grabs your legs and opens them, throwing them over his shoulders so he pushes in even deeper.

He leans forward, makes your body bend, and kisses you deeply.  He kisses you with passion, with sincerity and longing.  He wants you to know you’re the girl he’s insane for—you’re the one.  

After he pulls away, he lingers close to your lips and smiles.  

“You’re mine, baby girl.”  

He slowly drags his cock back until it’s nearly completely out of your channel, before his hips snap and he fucks into you—hard.  

The pace he sets is punishing.  He fucks into you like he’s wanted to for years now, thrusts into you so deep that your body bounces with each push forward.  He watches you, watches as your mouth opens to gasp out screams and pleas.  He relishes in the way your hands grip at his biceps, hold on to him like a lifeline.  Hoseok is absolutely basking in the way your body blooms and accepts him, only him.  Your cunt feels like heaven.  It’s hot and tight and gripping him so tightly he’s sure he’ll cum without nearly any work.

His pace picks up, burying his cock into you hard and fast as he pushes your legs until your knees are up to your head.  He wants to watch the way your dripping cunt takes his cock.

“God,” he whines as he watches himself slide in and out of you, covered in your creamy slick.  “You take this cock so well.  You were made to be my whore, baby.”

You babble a positive response, try to tell him that your body was designed for him to use, to take and please as he sees fit.  

He continues. 

“This tight little cunt is all mine, only mine.  I’m gonna make sure I stuff you full of my cock every fucking night, baby girl.  Gonna be nice and fucked out every day of the week.”

The tears of frustration turn into tears of bliss, crying in rapture as they streak down your cheeks.  You’ve never felt so good from a fuck, from any hook up or relationship in your life.  Hoseok has taken you to another world, another universe where the only thing that matters is his dick filling you up to the brim, and how close his body is to yours.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he feels his orgasm work itself up.  “Can’t wait to cum inside this fucking pussy every fucking night.”

He grabs the Hitachi wand that’s lying on the bed and flicks it back to life.  He grins as he sets the head back onto your clit and watches as you jolt even higher in response. 

He can feel the vibrations against his cock as he fucks you and his mind spins.  The sensation, tied with your sticky, slick channel sends him reeling towards the edge.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he demands.  “Show me I own this fucking pussy!”

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as it washes over you.  All sound leaves as your back arches off the bed one final time and your cunt clenches down impossibly hard around his length and convulses wildly.  Your orgasm hits you like a hurricane, battering down your body with its intense waves.

Hoseok watches in wonder, eyes wide as you cum harder than you have in your entire life.  He’s mystified by you, by how responsive you are to him.  It only takes a few more hypnotic pulses of your fiery pussy around his cock to send him skyrocketing towards his own climax.

His cock pulses with the intensity of his ropes of cum.  Your walls accept him, coax and milk him to spill more and more and more, until he’s filled you up past your breaking point.  It paints and coats your walls, pools in your womb, and he’s desperately crying your name as he grips your thighs.

The return to earth from a combined, world-shattering orgasm takes a few minutes.  You struggle to catch your breath and focus your blurry vision.  Hoseok struggles to keep himself upright and falls to rest on top of you, only holding himself up slightly to keep from crushing you.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper meekly.  “I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

Hoseok chuckles a weak laugh and presses a kiss to your ear, too lazy to lift his head.  

“All for me.”

You smile and let a hand rest on his back, grazing the toned muscle gently with your fingertips.  He finally lifts his head and stares down at you.

He looks so beautiful there above you. The remaining light from the night sky sparkles in his eye and he stares at you like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

And to him, you are.  You’re everything and more.

“It’s you,” he sighs, still unbelieving that the girl of his dreams is the girl of his fantasies too.

“It’s you,” you echo.  

There’s time for speaking later, time for adding everything up and confessing and planning.  

For now, as Hoseok catches his breath, he crawls his way down your body to your spent cunt.  His tongue peeks out of his mouth and kitten-licks at the drizzling cum that seeps out of you.  You squeak in overstimulation, but spread your legs further open to encourage him.

“You’re all mine.”  

He’s not sure if he’s telling you, or reminding himself.  

Hoseok laps into your hole, licking and suckling at the combined juices.

“Yours,” you moan.  “All yours.”

And Hoseok intends to make sure you never forget it.

[cherrypoki]

• Golden Hue

➵ Summary: A small series of events leads to you spending your free afternoon on a hill with your friend Gundham Tanaka

➵ Pairing: Gundham Tanaka/ Female! Reader

➵ Genre: Fluff, Friends To Lovers, Bonding, Deep Talk, Mutual Pining,

➵ Word Count: 1.637k 

➵ Y/N’s Talent: Unspecified 

➵ Authors Note: AHDIHDHKBD IM SORRY I CANNOT WRITE GUNDHAM DIALOG FOR SHIT SO IM SORRY DONT ATTACK ME IM TRYING SKDSJDBJJHB

Exhaustion.

That was the only you could way you could describe how you felt. A deep lethargy had lay to rest in your body and etched itself into your bones. 

School was always making you work hard but this part week had really overworked you. Finally the weekend was coming up and all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever until you were nothing but a memory.

But life has a funny way of changing things. 

You see, you never were supposed to be outside at the park in the first place. But before you could get to your dorm you had been stopped by Mahiru to talk to you about being a model for some of her cottage-core photos, then when you finally got to your dorm you realised you had locked your keys inside your dorm. and when you went to find the ultimate lock-pick you were stopped by another one of your friends who was looking for their missing dog.

And that’s how you ended up at the park at 7:38pm 

The sun was starting to hang low in the sky and you couldn’t see anyone else at the park except for your friend who was climbing the statue and yelling out their dogs name. And not to be rude but you wanted to hurry up and find this dog so you could go home. Hearing a bark in the distance past the trees you yelled to your friend who must’ve heard the same thing as they jumped down from the statue and ran toward the noise, Before they did turning at you to yell 

“please stay here in case I’m wrong!”

So now there you were. Alone in the park and waiting for your friend to come back. Tired and beginning to hit the wall as they say you slowly walked over to the nearby hill, somehow managing to make it to the top without falling over. Flopping into the grass you lay down.

You didn’t even hear footsteps until someone lay right next to you. 

“Hello There Mortal”

Ah, Your lips twisted into a small smile as there was only one person you knew who had that mixture of the way they talked and how deep their voice was. 

Gundham Tanaka. 

Right then you couldn’t even be bothered to lift your head so you kept your eyes closed and smiled in awareness. 

“Hey Gundham”

“Our meeting must have been foreseen by the elder gods as I have been thinking about our last meeting”

The last time you’d seen Gundham was a few weeks ago when one of his Four Dark Devas had wandered off and ended up in your room. Your roommate (having a cat) was not fond of this as San-D nearly became San-Dead if it wasn’t for you recognising him and deciding to bring him back to his master. But the fact that as soon as the hamster saw you it decided to jump at you and hide in your clothes. 

To be honest even though you were friends you hadn’t seen each other in a while. But neither one of you saw the need to explain or give your excuses. You both were ultimate's at Hopes Peek Academy of course you weren’t always gonna have time to hang out. But seeing this moment as a chance to catch up you slowly opened your eyes and had the pleasure of getting an eye full of a beautiful lemonade pink sky. And as a soft wind blew making the flowers and grass tickle your sides you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this okay. 

“How’s life been treating you?” You craned your head lightly to see the boys face. His eyes fixated on the sky he answered you without much thought. 

“As well as life at this academy can be”

Nodding you turned your head back to face the sky. 

“Have you ever thought about the fact that when we’re looking at the sky we’re not just looking at the sky but out into space and far far into the universe?”

Shaking his head he seemed to change the way he looked at the sky as if he was considering what you just said.

“Well is there any proof that any of this matters and were not living on a giant dog write now? For all we know we could be made up things in San-D’s head”

He chuckled at that. And a tiny head poked out of his scarf as if it had heard its name. You wouldn’t be shocked if he did recognise his name given how amazing Gundhams Ham- uh Devas were. 

Crawling across the grass and onto the chest the tiny creature looked down at you and feeling a laugh rise from your gut you dramatically gasped and threw your hand over your head.  “I have been defeated”

You couldn’t see from the angle but were pretty sure Gundham was rolling his eyes as the rest of the Devas seemed to want to join in on the conquering of planet (Y/N) as Cham-P waddled over to you and crawled on top of you as well while Maga-Z and Jum-P seemed to be happy on Gundhams head and chest. 

“If we are all living in Sand-D’s head I can guarantee that I would be ruling over everyone as the supreme leader of the Tanaka Empire!”

You giggled slightly, Even when the two of you were alone if was rare of him to break character, which is why it was a shock when he said 

“Maybe all of this is just in our heads”

But you learned not to make a big deal of it when Gundham dropped some of his walls. You wanted to make him comfortable so whether he was Tanaka the Forbidden One or just Gundham you still talked to him like you were (Y/N).

“I heard about a thing called Solipsism, It’s basically a theory where everything you see is created by your own mind like you said”

“Oh really?” He titled his head quizzically, which looked a bit weird since he was lying on the ground but he still managed to pull it off. Swatting at your leg feeling something itch before realising it was just one of the flowers you turned your head to look at him once more. A deep feeling of happiness set into your gut as you began to realise how much you’d missed Gundham, even just talking to him like this made you feel so....whole. Even though you hadn’t known each other as long as others at the school have. You’d only known each other for about a year now it definitely didn’t feel like it. 

To say that you bonded easier with Gundham than the others would be an understatement. An odd testament when you realise exactly how different Gundham is to the rest of your classmates. But to you, that just made him more approachable. 

Yawning slightly you leaned up, putting your arm on the ground next to him hovering over his head. Picking one of the flowers you smile lazily as you tucked it behind his ear. 

“It’s very hard to explain so to cut it short its basically the belief that nothing outside your mind exists”

Laying back down you couldn’t but laugh, There was a deep pink tint to his cheek. Though you couldn’t tell whether it was from the sunset or a blush at first you managed when the sky changed from pink to orange, and then the hue lighting his face was almost golden. But the pink was still there, and it matched with the flower you’d put behind his ear very nicely. 

“If everything around me is my imagination your the best thing I could come up with”

If you weren’t sure his cheeks were pink before you were now. And you began to worry you’d overstepped your bounds. Moving to quickly get up and apologise but his hand reached out across your stomach and slowly pulled you back down onto the grass with him. Turning your head back to face him you saw one of his rare smiles, though he had pulled his scarf up past his mouth you looked over at Jum-P on his chest and couldn’t help but giggle at the hamsters knowing look. 

His hand reached out and picked a flower, but he must’ve lingered with it in his hand for to long as Maga-Z jumped off his head and and grabbed it out of his hand, crawling over to you and pushing it behind your ear. 

His voice came out a little muffled due to the scarf over his mouth but you still heard him well enough. 

“Tell me more about that theory”

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Epilogue:

It was pretty dark by the time the two of you decided to go back to your dorms. And it was only halfway there you remembered.

“Fuck!”

Gundham looked over at you confused. 

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed, “Shit I forgot my dorm room is locked, I was supposed to go find a locksmith but then my friend needed help finding her dog-”

He interrupted your rambling by grabbing your hand. 

“You can spend the night at mine”

By now you were used to Gundham talking normally. But you shook your head.

“I couldn't-”

“You’ve got nowhere to go, As long as you don’t mind a few animals you can stay with me”

You looked up at him, he was already pulling you toward his dorm. 

“I’m not leaving someone I care about in the cold when I can help”

As he opened the door to his dorm a smile stretched onto your face. You had to remember to thank your friend later, and give her dog a snack. 

[faedawayyy]

FAE’S BOYS - an update on who they are, what they want, where they’re at in life. ALL of my characters used fixed ages unless i say otherwise. they’ll be the same age in the rp forever.

ANTHONY HENSHAW

fc: penn badgley age: 26 birthday: november 4th, scorpio year: fifth year siblings: none sexuality: pansexual profession: acting & photography  relationship status: seeing somebody (felicity) they’re dating and he’s genuinely interested but she’s not his girlfriend. while he likes her, anthony thrives on being the one in control and because she's a stronger personality, i’m not sure how long he’ll stay satisfied.  backstory/secret: he has a very obsessive personality. he went through a very long history of bullying and social isolation in high school which led to him always feeling alone. so now, when he gets attention from someone, he clings and fixates on them be it friends or romantic interests.  career: he’s biggest gig is ‘you’ - he wrote it and stars in it. it’s kind of a bit of an ode to himself LOL but of course he plays it off as him just being creative. he works with steph who has been nothing but nice to him and surprisingly, he doesn't have the urge to be possessive of her.  he’s looking to branch out his photography career and will do some freelance work for spotlight at some point.

friendship circle: literally just steph, they’re like work friends. potential crushes/people who have his eye: anastasia, natasha & chanelle

BLAKE CRUZ  TW: FAMILY DEATH (SUICIDE)  CAR COLLISON 

fc: calum hood age: 24  birthday: february 18th, aquarius year: fourth year  siblings: lucas (deceased) sexuality: bisexual with a strong female preference  profession: musician relationship status: married to christelle. their relationship was more public when they were dating but i feel like blake is very keen to keep them private and protected, especially since he witnessed the breakdown of his parents relationship.  backstory/secret: the cause of his parent’s breakdown was the death of lucas, his older brother, who was always larger than life and the life of the party. blake idolised him a lot but had no idea how depressed and unsatisfied he was with life. lucas text blake his goodbyes but at the time, blake had no idea what it meant. lucas was recovered from a lake in his car 3 days later; the whole family believe it was a tragic accident but blake knows otherwise. he’s just been too scared to tell them. career: the bassist in 5SOS. their career is pretty big and they're well known around the academy. however, he is looking to branch out and go solo. he still works with drew and damon but separately, their styles are very different and they all want a chance to express themselves creatively.  friendship circle: damon, drew, adrian, matt, dwight, dallas  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: none other than christelle.

BRODY CARMICHAEL  TW: ALCOHOLISM 

fc: brody carmichael age: 25  birthday: august 12th, leo year: fourth year siblings: anastasia, leo, mason, miles and Bella sexuality: heterosexual profession: actor relationship status: married to disney. they’ve been dating since the beginning of high school (12) and married for 3-4. they’re very turbulent and its never been smooth sailing but everybody who knows them will tell you that they’re made for each other, no other pairing would quite make as much sense.  backstory/secret: there’s a mixture of things going on in brody’s life right now. when he and disney married, he fooled her into signing a contract with a clause that mentioned if they were to divorce, he’d acquire everything they have “together” - children included. she’s yet to know. alongside this, after the death of james, he’s been struggling and his drinking has quietly got out of control. he’s on very thin ice and one wrong move could genuinely be the end of his life.  career: an actor who has come in and out of the spotlight. he’s never been centre stage and the biggest name in the school but he’s never left it either. he’s a steady constant. he got into the profession after his contacts got him an audition with disney channel and it snowballed from there.  friendship circle: dom, kendall, ezra, theo, park (sometimes)  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: none other than disney.

CRAWFORD BISHOP

fc: brenton thwaites age: 27 birthday: july 18th, cancer year: fifth year   siblings: lawson and harrison bishop sexuality: heterosexual profession: actor relationship status: dating penny, a younger fan. he knows he’s going to get criticism for it and he's not 100% sure of how it’s going to go, in all honesty.  backstory/secret: the bishop family are inherently corrupt. a lot of the men in their family have been mayor and crawford’s older brother is currently preparing to take the position once his father retires. they also play a big hand in the “death” of james carmichael. james owed the family money and they sent loan sharks after him, which led to the decision to fake his own death. however, crawford’s dad realised he was still alive and is now holding him hostage in the family’s second home in lilac heights until he figures out a way to pay his debts. nobody knows this.  career: an actor, he hasn’t done anything at all though.  friendship circle: no friends  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: madison

DALLAS JACKSON  TW: DRUG ABUSE AND VIOLENCE 

fc: justin bieber age: 23  birthday: april 9th, aries  year: third year  siblings: margo jackson sexuality: heterosexual profession: musician  relationship status: loosely seeing ruby. there isn't any commitment or exclusivity. they've been together “officially” before and they're not quite in that phase but they spend a lot of time with one another and have always just had genuine feelings that go beyond romance or platonic feelings.  backstory/secret: he’s been the breadwinner of his family for as long as he can remember because he didn't have much choice. he grew up watching his dad abuse his mum and his sister go off the rails. he is from a long line of addicts; his dad manifested it through gambling, margo let it manifest through drink and drugs. his dad lost most of their family’s wealth and had to start loaning from friends - big loans he’s yet to pay back. that's where dallas comes in; he first tried to do it “properly” - go to college, get a good job, work himself into a grave trying to restore his family’s fortune but it proved harder than he thought. he’s turned to selling drugs and has slipped into using them on and off for years. his mental health has taken a massive blow in the process of it all too. career: a musician who blew up from the minute he was signed. dallas’s career success has definitely contributed to the mental pressure he’s been dealing with and he's definitely ruined his relationship through drug rumours and messy relationships. he's trying to mind his own business these days.  friendship circle: matt, adrian, dwight, ruby, roxy, charlie, evan, ros, disney, kobi, park potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: charlie, roxy & ruby

EZRA HUGHES 

fc: michael b jordan age: 26  birthday: march 2nd, pisces year: fifth year   siblings: dylan and kayla (npc) sexuality: heterosexual profession: actor  relationship status: dating natalie, the mother of his son. the two of them broke up promptly after his birth and ezra’s mother agreed to take parental custody. now they're both in healthier places and co-parenting, their relationship is all about reconnecting and building their little family.  backstory/secret: ezra was never supposed to get a callback for st judes, when the casting director came rushing out to tell him, they’d mistaken him for another candidate. seeing his opportunity though, ezra agreed to come back for “his call back”, he passed successfully and then played it off like admissions had recorded his details wrong. if it wasn't for that, he might not have been here and with a young son to support, he couldn't risk that. does he feel sad that the person was one of his best and oldest friends? kind of. career: he’s a film star and has had a few successful auditions for stage and screen, but has dreams of becoming a lot bigger than he is at the moment and won’t stop until he gets there.  friendship circle: brody, disney, mason, caleb (cousin) potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: no one other than natalie

JUDE BAKER

fc: finn wolfhard age: 18 birthday: january 11th, capricorn year: first siblings: garrett, august & carmen baker  sexuality: heterosexual profession: actor relationship status: dating ivy, she’s his first girlfriend and he's honestly so infatuated with her. he’s never been happier which makes him scared to lose her and sometimes gets a bit insecure, but overall, he’s so proud to be with her and call her his. 

backstory/secret: jude was severely bullied in high school and spent most of his days on his own or working in his dad’s motel. the bullying came from a multitude of things; the fact that he wasn’t as fortunate as most of the kids in town, the fact he was socially awkward, the fact he was an easy target, his looks. the list went on. due to this, he used to rely a lot on his siblings and deep down, still feels a bit like he isn’t good enough for anybody and that he’s missed out on the best of his teen years. 

career: currently the star of ‘stranger things’ and is growing and adjusting to that level of attention. he’s not really aiming to get bigger, he just wants to become better at his craft. friendship circle: lorenzo, ivy, florence, tanner, yannis  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: no one other than ivy

KRISTOFER NILSEN

fc: brock o’hurn age: 28 birthday: august 19th, leo year: sixth year siblings: adopted younger siblings (npc) sexuality: bisexual but not openly, no preference at all tbh profession: actor relationship status: single, it may appear that he’s dating people or is with them but single is how he behaves. the last relationship he had was with amber recently but after she took marcus to paris over him, he’s decided they're not official anymore. because he's a dick LOL. backstory/secret: kristofer was raised by older parents and he's their only biological child, the rest of his siblings are either fostered or adopted. he's adaptable, knows how to compromise but also has always fallen into the “leader of the pack” role, almost a little too well. when he was younger, kristofer was always a great role model in school, inclusive and loved making friends but popularity (and puberty) got to his head and he turned into an absolute dick after that.  career: he’s an actor and at the moment, is doing mainly stage appearances but his goal is cinema and will keep auditioning for series and films that catch his eye. friendship circle: none really. madison? idk if she likes him lmao. potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: beth (fan), amber, everleigh

MILES CARMICHAEL 

fc: lorenzo zurzolo age: 22 birthday: 4th june, gemini year: third year siblings: anastasia, leo, brody, mason and bella carmichael sexuality: bisexual with a female preference  profession: actor relationship status: single. charlie is the girl his dad hoped he would be with but the chances of that are looking 0 - nothing after all of the drama that’s gone down between the two of them. miles has lost trust in her and doesn't really want to even be friends.  backstory/secret: miles found out that he’s not james’ son when rooting through his office for something else. he found his birth certificate with an empty space in the “father” spot and after further research, found that patricia had an affair in the late nineties (when he was born). before then, miles suffered with social anxiety and depression all the way through his teen years which made going to school difficult. it was a few and far between type deal. he spent most of his time at home and for a long time, he only really had contact with his siblings.  career: an actor, he’s yet to land anything as significant as his older siblings. he isn't phased though and knows that he has time.  friendship circle: florence, charlie (kind of), yannis  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: charlie (unfortunately for him LOL) and everleigh

MARCUS CARMICHAEL

fc: bill skarsgard age: 27 birthday: 20th november, scorpio year: sixth siblings: none  sexuality: heterosexual  profession: actor relationship status: single. he has a big thing for amber but their past is complicated and he lowkey isn't sure they'd ever move past things if she found out how much he messed up in the past.  backstory/secret: marcus is the son of elizabeth carmichael; the daughter who married extremely early on in life, had her son and was the divorced by her husband when he found a different woman. since then, she’s been closed and bitter towards almost everything. due to her only being 17 when she had marcus, there really isn't much parental bond between them and they grew up more like siblings with an age gap. he spends a lot of time around his uncle and cousins and tends to do a lot of james’ dirty work. he’s always known his uncle was a crook and was the least surprised by him getting himself into so much trouble; he knows about money laundering, the shadiness behind the disappearance behind janeys disappearance, the money paid to get rid of lacey, particia’s affair, the scheme behind nrody and disney’s wedding, the list goes on. career: an actor, his biggest gig is ‘IT’ and he could probably do a lot more if he applied himself but alas, he’s kind of addicted to making quick $$$ through doing dirty work for the financially elite.  friendship circle: park, adrian, lacey, i guess the other carmichaels? potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: amber, natalie & mackenzie

MASON CARMICHAEL 

fc: austin butler age: 26 birthday: 2nd september, virgo  year: sixth  siblings: leo, anastasia, bella, brody & miles carmichael   sexuality: heterosexual profession: director & producer, occasional actor  relationship status: married to kendall, the person james always wanted him to be with. he’d be lying if he said that didn't sway his decision a little bit but overall, she’s 100% the love of his life and his end game couldn't be anyone else at this point.  backstory/secret: even though he’s the overlooked and “sensible” sibling in many senses, he's also the most trusted which is why james decided to reveal to mason that he wasn't dead. mason doesn't know much at all and is yet to tell the rest of his family...he’s not sure if he ever will now that they're all adjusting to life without him. he has no idea where james is and only has contact with his father when the man reaches out first. otherwise, he's as clueless as everybody else.  career: his career is one of his biggest successes. he has had a great track record with producing films and has built a good reputation for himself, he’s not even close to satisfied though. friendship circle: ezra, theo, disney, mackenzie, emma potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: just Kendall

NATE HARWOOD  TW: OVERDOSE 

fc: jack gilinsky age: 23 birthday: 3rd january, capricorn year: third siblings: evie harwood sexuality: heterosexual profession: singer (james bay vc) relationship status: single.  backstory/secret: he was at jack’s party the night that guy - who happened to be one of his best friends - overdosed. nate actually saw his friend in a bad way in the bathroom and turned a blind eye after hearing he’d got with his then ex-girlfriend at the time, imogen hamilton. nate hasnt told anyone about this and acts like he’s none the wiser.  career: a musician, he never really took off in the way he hoped he would. after signing with charles, his career has got a bit better and he disbanded from his duo act last year to be taken more seriously. he’s going to launch his first real single early this year. friendship circle: tanner, harvey, damon, jack, yannis, parker (?)  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: imogen, zara, steph, phoenix & kobi 

NOAH MICHAELS

fc: brad simpson age: 19 birthday: 28th february, pisces  year: first siblings: none sexuality: bisexual with a male preference  profession: lead singer/band member relationship status: single. backstory/secret: noah left his family home at sixteen after he was kicked out due to coming out to his father. he knew it was going to happen. they'd always clashed. the conservative views made him feel constricted and even though he was practically homeless, he preferred it somewhat to the conditions he’d been living in before. due to being young, he was able to find temporary accommodation in london (his hometown) and live there for a while. eventually, when he got into st judes, he found a woman running an open house for young adults with nowhere to go. that’s where he’s been ever since.  career: lead singer in the vamps, they've had a lot of criticism for being “dated” but he’s genuinely passionate about the group he’s been placed in and really wants to do well. he’s dedicated and works nearly every day.  friendship circle: lorenzo & jude potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: danny, viv (calloway), annabel, darcie, caleb, lowkey clark oop

OTIS KINGSTON

fc: algee smith age: 22 birthday: 14th december, sagittarius year: third year siblings: una kingston  sexuality: heterosexual profession: actor relationship status: single. backstory/secret: otis comes from a middle class family and a long line of hard workers. his family have no connections to the talent industry and they dont benefit from nepotism, but everyone in the kingston household has believed massively in creating their own opportunities. for otis’s father, this was sacrificing his own dreams to become a theatre teacher at st judes in order to figure out what his children would need to do to be a foot in. yes, they have raw talent but he knew in such an elitist academy, talent alone wouldn't cut it. he worked overtime, bent over backwards and did a lot of dirty work to get both of his children on steady tv shows.  career: an actor, his biggest gig so far has been euphoria and it’s really given him a platform in the school. friendship circle: harvey, tanner, yannis, damon, clark, lawson (?) potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: lexi, phoenix & chanelle

ORSON KINGSTON 

fc: dominic fike age: 23  birthday: 31st march, aries siblings: none sexuality: bisexual with female preference  profession: actor & musician relationship status: single. backstory/secret: orson comes from the kingston family and has a similar work ethic as otis. they won't stop until they're at the top. orson has more of a chilled and relaxed approach though; he’s definitely your typical party guy who loves being out and having fun. there’s no real secret other than his uncle helped him, una and otis get ahead in the st judes game.   career: an actor, his biggest gig so far has been euphoria and it’s really given him a platform in the school. friendship circle: dom, harvey, jack, I'm sure there are others potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: lexi (calloway), jiwon, arabella & ria

STANLEY JEFFERSON TW: MURDER 

fc: lucas bin age: 19 birthday: 17th june, gemini year: first siblings: none sexuality: heterosexual profession: musician (kid laroi) relationship status: single. backstory/secret: stanley moved into his aunts shelter when he was just 14. he grew up with a single dad who never really cared about him - it was all drugs and constant police raids. when he was in his mid-teens, he saw his dad killed by a dealer he owned money to because he hadn't shifted his drugs fast enough. when stanley moved to the springs, he decided to have a new start but had a lot of pent up anger which led him into being a well-known bully; he’s cocky, rude and needs a lot of reassurance irl.  career: a singer but he’s yet to release anything. he’s been spending a lot of time in the studio and could honestly use a mentor if anybody's offering!  friendship circle: all of the douchebag channel boys but not really, they more just tolerate him lmao potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: heidi, imogen, blair, carmen, evie

TATE SIMPSON

fc: pete davidson age: 26 birthday: 1st may, taurus year: sixth siblings: none sexuality: heterosexual profession: director & writer  relationship status: seeing emma, it’s a little delicate thanks to the whole madison drama but they are working on it. backstory/secret: tate has lived with foster families his whole life after his mother passed away from a young age with no other relative to take care of him. he’s pretty resilient and doesn't need attachments as much as some others might. he finds it hard to let people in too. at one point, when he was 19, he was living in scotland and attending west ivys. he was in with the group that caused the fire at st judes which led to the death of a student.  career: an actor and director, he goes in and out of being productive  friendship circle: jack, danny, parker, damon, harvey, wes, literally all of the guys unless they're doing too much  potential crushes/people who have caught his eye: emma

[ayatosmlktea]

𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧

Word Count: 1.7k

Dabi x Reader

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for months, but I’ve been too scared to write for other animes. I mean the worst that could happen is no one likes it, so why not! This is inspired by Atlas - Keshi because his voice makes me think of Dabi sooo enjoy this Dabi angst! Also thanks @suckersuki​ for being so nice and supportive! Also pt2. Finding quirks are hard. Okay that’s it!

Warm summer breeze caressed her skin, like the gentle embrace of a familiar lover. Orange rays of a setting sun cast over her as she sat on the front steps of her apartment. It was comfortable, quiet, her favourite kind of weather. Golden hour, quite the opposite of how she felt inside. It was wrong, the feelings bubbling in her chest were making her feel disgust. Why were butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him? She was stupid, it would never work out. They were from two different worlds. He was trouble, he hurt people, he was a villain. He was everything she stood against as a hero.

So why was Y/N hoping that he would stay for more than just a quick fuck. Her eyes were unfocused, fixating on one spot of concrete while her thoughts were elsewhere. She couldn’t even remember how their strange relationship, if you could even call it that, had started. Every thought of his hands on her body had her heart speeding up, her fingernails digging into her palms as she scolded herself for craving his touch even more.

 Dabi was different, no one had ever made her feel the things he did. And he didn’t even have to try, the way he looked at her was enough to steal the air from her lungs. She hadn’t seen him in a while; and while it was probably a good thing considering that meant he wasn’t causing trouble, Y/N felt a hole burning into her heart. She couldn’t help the long nights she’d lay awake, staring at the ceiling wishing that he was next to her. It was just sex, it didn’t mean anything. 

So why was she falling in love with him against her better judgement. Sighing heavily she stood up, walking back into the lonely empty apartment that only felt like home when he was in it.

Y/N kept hoping, despite the fact that she knew it was irrational, that he would show up. She was tired of sleeping in an empty bed.

‘God listen to yourself, you sound pathetic.’ She couldn’t help but scoff at how needy she sounded. Beginning her nightly routine, Y/N ignored the feeling of paranoia as she bent over to rinse her face off.  He always liked to scare her from behind whenever she was washing her face. Y/N didn’t like to admit that she was lonely but before she had met Dabi there wasn’t a lot going on in her life that she looked forward to. Sure, she was a hero and that was something she was proud of. But something about the way he actively sought out danger was...exciting.

 Pulling the thin covers over her head she tried not to think about his arms snaking around her waist pulling her back flush against his chest. Every good memory of Dabi was always accompanied with ones of his destructive nature. Ones that reminded her why they were never meant to be, why they shouldn’t have even come together at all. What they were doing was wrong, falling in love with him was wrong!

At the end of the day, Dabi was a villain and she was a hero.

✧*ﾟ✧*ﾟ✧*ﾟ

Looking around the city district lit up with smoldering blue flames, the sounds of civilians screaming all around her and blood dripping down the side of her face, Y/N was reminded of why Dabi was everything she stood against. Her legs were burning, screaming for her to stop running. Sweat mixed with blood as it dripped down her face onto her hero costume. She couldn’t stop, not until everyone had been evacuated. Cursing under her breath she kicked herself for not seeing it sooner.

Dabi’s disappearance never meant anything good.

The league’s numbers had grown since the last time they had attacked the city, the number of villains was easily greater than the heroes they had available. It seemed hopeless, there was only so much they could do without destroying the whole sector. Even then it seemed like a losing fight.

‘Snap out of it! Focus!’

Shaking off her doubts she handed off another scared child to the paramedics, he had a couple cuts on his face but nothing that wouldn’t heal with time.

“T-thank you for saving me” Her heart melted at his mumbled thanks. Flashing him her brightest smile she ruffled his hair affectionately. These were the moments she lived for, saving people.

Another explosion had the ground trembling under her feet and Y/N was off running again.

The fight had barely begun and her limbs were already begging her to stop moving. Her quirk wasn’t the strongest when it came to being on the offensive side. She could remove one of a person’s senses but the longer she used it the greater a toll it took on her mental and physical energy. Her only saving grace was the years she had spent honing her combat skills.

From her peripheral vision she could see Endeavor’s flames, although having the number one hero on the scene did nothing to calm the anxious storm brewing in her stomach. Knowing who they were up against, having Endeavour there was only going to add fuel to the fire, literally.

Another explosion of blue flames on her right sent glass and debris flying towards her. The force of it had her ears ringing as her body was flung to the ground, the feeling of something sharp jabbing into her shoulder blade pulled a choked cry of pain from her throat. A mixture of orange and blue flames were blurred together as she unsteadily climbed to her feet.

“Fancy meeting you here” That low voice she knew all too well sent bolts of electricity down her whole body. Gritting her teeth together,  Y/N moved out of Dabi’s line of vision before taking away his sight. She needed to move fast, incapacitate him while she still had the upper hand. Dabi merely chuckled, a small ball of flames engulfing his hand.

“I don’t need to see you to know where you are doll’ Y/N hated the mocking tone of voice he used, like she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Dabi moved out of her grasp with ease, even without his vision he was adept at avoiding her moves.

“Missed you” His smirk that once had her heart pounding against her chest now made her want to smash his face into the ground.

“Shut up” Her chest was heaving, the hit she had taken earlier was throbbing incessantly. The stabbing pain in her back made each inhale shorter and more frequent. It was an exhausting fight. Had she not spent so much time moping in bed over a guy who didn’t really love her and had focused her energy on training, maybe she would have been able to take him down.

“If it hadn’t been for you we never would’ve pulled this off, you’re a real hero Y/N!” The cold sharp laugh Dabi let out froze her blood.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The strain of holding her focus on keeping him blind was testing her mental resolve. Y/N moved to incapacitate him from behind again only to have him whip around in time to send another blast of blue flames hurtling her into an alley. 

She felt broken pieces of glass digging into her skin, the pain substantial enough for her concentration to slip. The grin Dabi gave her was feral, her face and arms were burning and the tips of her hair smelled burnt. He was faster than the first time she had fought him, within seconds he was at her side. His fingers gripped the hair at the base of her neck pulling back so that she was facing him.

“Amazing the things technology can do, don’t you think? You should really keep confidential information off your phone, doll”

“You bugged my phone?” she seethed, her vision going red.

In that moment she had never hated him more, the damage he was more than happy to inflict on innocent people, on her, was enough to prove that he had never really cared for her. Using whatever energy she had left she removed his vision once again, using the milliseconds she had to take him by surprise. Straddling his waist, she put every pent up feeling of rage, heartbreak and betrayal into her punch. The satisfying crack of his nose breaking was enough for her to keep going.

“I fucking hate you!” She screamed, but she couldn’t tell whether her words were directed at Dabi or herself. One of his hands grabbed her arm, white hot pain travelled up her arm eliciting another scream as his hand print was burned onto her skin. Her focus slipped again, his eyes met hers with a carnal rage that she had only seen once before. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until her tears dropped onto his face.

“What’s this? A hero crying over a villain? How pathetic” He sneered, flipping their positions once again.

“You’re such a fucking dick” she hissed through clenched teeth, bringing her leg up to knee him in between his legs. Dabi grunted, his hand immediately closed around her throat, squeezing hard enough to leave her gasping for air.

“You’re a fucking pain in my ass” before Y/N knew what was happening she felt his lips against hers.

The kiss was anything but gentle, his teeth bit at her lips hard enough to draw blood but she matched his energy. Her fingers tangled in his thick black hair pulling him closer against her. Teeth clacked together as they fought to dominate the other, his hand gripped her hair painfully but it made her moan regardless. Pulling apart only when they were panting for air, Y/N stared into his eyes finding the expression she had been missing for weeks. 

The blood dripping down his nose and lips made her stomach clench in a way that wasn’t considered hero-like at all. She couldn’t help but crave his touch, the damage was done. The second he’d branded her arm she had lost the fight. Weeks of ignoring her, of making her crave his attention had all been for this moment. He had never planned on letting her walk away.

At the end of the day, Dabi was a villain and she was his.

[inwiste]

Day One: Family

A fic for Tolkien Gen Week about Thranduil seeing his father in Valinor :)

Homecoming

His excitement and his dread increased in tandem as Middle Earth fell behind and the Bay of Eldamar came within his sights. Legolas gasped and the other elves on the boat began to whisper excitedly among themselves but Thranduil stayed silent, his fingernails making small scratches in the smooth railing of the ship. 

Some, like Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir knew what to expect when they docked in the bay, as Lady Celebrían had sailed hundreds of years beforehand and their adar Elrond left Middle Earth after Sauron’s ring was destroyed. Others had family long departed whom they hoped to see among the small crowd amassed on the docks and nearby land. Thranduil? Thranduil did not know what would be waiting for him, or rather, who would be waiting, if anyone. Years of disappointment and loss had made him cynical and bitter to outsiders, though he loved his son and his own people openly. 

The temptation for him to retreat into his cold facade to protect himself from the inevitable sadness he would feel was nearly irresistible, that was, until he felt a gentle hand rest on his arm. Thranduil looked over to see his son staring at him, concern shining in his onyx eyes. The long days on the boat under the hot summer sun had tanned Legolas’ tawny beige skin while his own sandy complexion was tinged with pink and tingled. He felt a twinge in his heart at the sight of him, as he was reminded of Legolas’ naneth and his beloved wife Amdirchan. His loose blonde hair fluttered in the wind and tickled his cheeks. He sighed and half-heartedly pushed it out of his face only for it to fall in front of his eyes once more. Thranduil growled in frustration and reached up to grab the stray locks only to feel his son’s nimble fingers threading themselves through his hair and pulling it back into what felt like a long braid. Once done, Legolas stepped back by his side, his own inky black hair tied back in the simple warrior braids he had worn for thousands of years. 

“What is bothering you, ada? Every other elf is celebrating but you have been lost in thought for a great deal of this journey,” Legolas said, his voice was light and his lips curled into a small smile as he finished speaking. “It is too late to jump off the boat and swim back. I believe Ulmo would deposit you back here, albeit you would be soaked and it would be unpleasant for everyone involved.” 

“That is true, though I could always simply ask him for a ride to shore and avoid the pomp and circumstance sure to come with our arrival,” Thranduil replied. His son’s teasing remark was not a half-bad idea now that he thought about it, though he was sure that Celeblasdes and Galdis would kill him for it. 

“Is that what this is about? Or is it about something else entirely?” Legolas asked as his voice dropped to a whisper.

He was grateful for his son’s concern but Thranduil did not want to drag him into his own problems, especially ones that spanned back so far. 

“Is it about haru?” Thranduil could not help but look at his son in surprise after that response, confirming the elf’s suspicions. “What about haru, ada?” 

Thranduil had told his son many things about his late haru and haruni, though every story seemed to be tainted with his father’s sadness over their deaths. It was impossible to know if they had been reborn, and even then, it was said that many elves were never the same and the idea was widely believed despite the lack of evidence corroborating this claim. Haruni had died in the early First Age in an orc attack while his own ada was very young, while haru had been killed during the War of the Last Alliance. His ada had seemed at peace with haruni’s death, though haru’s death was one that he was never able to bring himself to discuss. When Legolas became curious about his family history, he went to Celeblasdes and Galdis for answers about his late haru, as it was hard for his ada to talk about him without tears spilling from his eyes. 

“Where is Gimli?” His father changed the subject with little to no tact, though he wished to take his mind off of his father and saw it as his best option. 

“Erestor is telling him about the times he visited Belegost while Glorfindel braids Gimli’s hair. He has not killed him yet, so I assume that he does not mind the elven braids being woven into his hair as we speak.” Legolas lowered his voice for a moment, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “He wants to look nice for Lady Galadriel,” his son whispered, grinning. 

The dwarf had been infatuated with the Lady since he met her in Lothlórien over a hundred years before. The mention of her name was enough to make him blush while he fixed the beads in his beard regardless of what company was already in his presence. It was rather entertaining. Thranduil shook his head and laughed at the memory of his antics, though he quieted quickly when the elves on the ship began to whisper excitedly once more as the ship rocked and the shore came closer. Legolas frowned at the sight of his father so disturbed, as while he had his suspicions about the source of his sadness his father would not tell him what it was. 

Another moment passed before Thranduil sighed and bowed his head, catching his son’s attention. “It is about your haru, ion nin,” he murmured. “I cannot help but wonder if he will be among the elves there to greet us upon arrival.” He had prayed for his father to be released from the Halls of Mandos in a timely fashion, though he did not know if said prayers were answered. Faith in the Valar besides Yavanna had always been in short-supply for him. 

Still, a part of him could not help but hope that his father had returned from the Halls and was waiting for him like Thranduil had waited for his father to come home despite knowing that it would never happen. 

He was shaken out of his musings by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and Legolas resting his chin on his shoulder. “I believe he will be there, ada. If not, haru shall be there eventually and we will be there to support him,” his son said. 

Perhaps Legolas was right. They would find out soon enough, as the ship had just pulled into the bay and the harbor was within their sights. It was impossible to tell if his father was there, as the crowd on the docks and the surrounding shore was massive and he could only pick out a few familiar faces in the crowd. Gil-Galad stood on the shore with Vórime as well as Elrond, Celebrían, Galadriel, Celeborn,  and-

Thranduil’s heart leapt into his throat and he choked back a sob at the sight of his father’s long silver hair.

“Is that haru?” Legolas asked, his eyes also fixated on the figure making his way through the crowd of elves to the edge of the docks. 

“Yes, that is your haru and my adar, Las,” Thranduil responded with a smile. The ship docked and elves rushed off and into the embrace of family and friends. Gimli walked in the direction of Galadriel while Erestor was swept into a teary-eyed embrace by his sister and the children of Elrond were reunited with their adar and naneth. 

Once the exodus of elves from the ship had slowed, Thranduil and Legolas departed the vessel and stood on the dock, unsure of how to approach Oropher until the elf took the first step. He walked up to Thranduil but remained silent, a blank expression on his face as he examined the two elves before him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he took in the sight of his son and grandson standing before him and he shook his head before tearfully whispering “ion nin.” 

Thranduil let out a sob and ran into his father’s arms, fully breaking down when Oropher carded his fingers through the long silky hair and undid the braid from before. “Ada, you’re here. You’re alive,” he cried, barely aware of his son joining the embrace and rubbing his free hand on his father’s back. 

“I am so sorry, ion nin. You and our people paid for my mistake in the war and I cannot begin to apologize. I did not want to leave you, but-” 

“I know, ada. I know,” Thranduil responded. When his tears dried, he pulled away from his father and wrapped an arm around his son who moved closer to him. “I want to introduce you to Legolas, your grandson.” 

 Oropher smiled at Legolas who quickly reciprocated, clearly excited to meet his haru. “I am honored to meet you, Legolas. The tales of your valor reached Valinor soon after the end of the War of the Ring, and I was beyond proud to hear that my grandson was helping save the world,” he said smoothly, though his eyes reflected the mixture of nervousness and excitement he felt. 

Thranduil watched his son smooth out his braids and brush invisible dust off of his clothes before finally summoning the courage to respond. “Thank you, haru. It was the culmination of the effort of all elves, men, dwarves, and other beings that made it possible for us to finally bring Mordor to its knees.” 

 Oropher moved closer to Legolas and tentatively wrapped an arm around his shoulder, smiling in happiness when the other elf moved closer. “Tell me all about yourself, young one. It is a long walk back to my talan,” he said. Needing no further encouragement, the elf launched into one of his favorite stories about his childhood while his haru listened attentively, occasionally looking back at his own son. Thranduil found himself unable to wipe the smile off of his face. For the first time in his life, he felt completely at peace. 

@tolkiengenweek

[nearlymanaged]

3. Lily, Lupin, and Lilacs

Remus made his way to the sixth floor all by himself before Ancient Runes lesson. He’d spent breakfast being entertained by Peter, who had turned into a rat to freak out some first years by going for a swim in their cereal bowls. The performance was cut short though when they noticed a couple of teachers eyeing them from across the Great Hall. James leapt to his feet, grabbed Wormtail, and hurried out of there, yelling something about his ‘poorly behaved pet’.

The lesson had been going on for nearly five minutes when the classroom door flew open and a very flustered Lily Evans burst in, muttering apologies and something about having overslept and how it had never happened before. She went for the nearest seat, which happened to be right next to Remus, and pulled out her things very slowly, trying not to make any more sounds.

Professor Argyle stared at her blankly for a moment and Remus was sure Gryffindor was about to lose ten points, but instead… “Make sure you go to bed at a reasonable time tonight, Miss Evans. Mr. Lupin, could you kindly share your notes with Miss Evans…” And she proceeded to teach the class.

Remus pushed his notes closer to Lily so she could copy the five or six sentences they had been instructed to copy by professor Argyle. “Thanks,” she whispered, scribbling frantically.

About halfway through the lesson, Remus started hearing a strange muffled gurgling sound. The classroom was filled with the scratching of quills on parchment, so it took him a couple of minutes to realise that it was Lily’s stomach that was growling greedily. “Hungry?” He whispered, stifling a laugh.

“Hmpf… I can’t even concentrate on this. Is that ‘leech’ or ‘cockroach’?” She squinted at a rune in a paragraph they had been instructed to translate.

“Leech,” Remus whispered and bent over to retrieve something from his bag. “Here.” He pushed half a bar of chocolate across the desk. “Also, I have no doubt that you know this, but that should be ‘lake’, not ‘puddle’.”

Lily seemed to be taken aback briefly, but then she gave him a genuine smile and breathed ‘thanks, Remus,’ before breaking off a piece and shoving it in her mouth. They had always been friendly with each other. Incidentally, only when James wasn’t around. Or Snape, for that matter. And now that September was drawing to a close, they had started exchanging little interactions here and there more frequently. It was only natural, since some of the classes they had both picked up for their sixth year only had small handfuls of students, none of whom were James or Snape.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be late for class,” Remus whispered brightly, watching Lily eat the last crumbs of his chocolate, even licking little specks off her fingers once it was all gone.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been late. I just had so much homework yesterday and it got so late and… I need to revisit my homework planner.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long month…”

Just then, the bell rang throughout the castle, announcing the end of the lesson. Both Gryffindors started packing their things and Lily was the first to reach the door while Remus was still fiddling with the zipper of his bag. 

“Well?” He heard her say and looked up to see her waiting for him in the doorway. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be late again!” And they left the classroom together to head to a double Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

* * *

Sirius was eyeing Remus, who was curled up in one of the armchairs with a thick, dusty book. Black had just made himself comfortable in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. James was servicing his broomstick in anticipation of the upcoming Quidditch season, and Peter was still working on his Potions essay (James’ freshly finished one lying in front of him). It was one of the quieter evenings, the likes of which occurred more frequently since they had started their sixth year.

It had been a whole month since the beginning of term; a whole month since Sirius was reunited with Moony. A whole month since he had been having these new, curious feelings for him. He kept telling himself that it would go away eventually, but there was a part of him that didn’t particularly care for that to happen. He had spent a whole month relentlessly staring at Moony and he could not think of anyone or anything more beautiful, and he had never thought that about anyone for a whole month straight.

He had always liked Moony’s scars; not the pain that they were born out of, of course. But he always liked the way that they looked, as if counteracting how much Remus himself hated them. Sirius remembered the first time he heard his friend call them ugly, back in their second year, and he couldn’t believe his ears. He thought they looked cool; they bore witness of Remus’ strength and resilience. But now he thought they were beautiful -- maybe he had always thought them beautiful?

Throughout the past month, Sirius had been catching himself wanting to wrap his arms around Moony at the most random moments. Or hold his hand. Or kiss him. And then he’d wonder if he would realistically ever be able to do that. He wanted it all to go away, but he also...didn’t. Deep down, more so than that, he wanted to know if there was any chance at all that Moony could like him back. So far, his inventory of clues was that Remus wasn’t girl-crazy, but that could have easily been attributed to him being a bit of a bookworm. A lot of a bookworm.

But then, there was this vague feeling, which Sirius couldn’t put into words, that him and Moony had always had a different kind of...chemistry; different from him and Prongs or him and Wormtail. If only there had been a way to explore that without putting their friendship at risk...

All of a sudden, Sirius’ whole body perked up with a brilliant idea, and before he could question its brilliance further, the words slipped out of his mouth. 

“You guys know I’m bisexual, right?” Sirius’ eyes lingered on Remus for just a moment longer before he casually looked down to inspect his fingernails. 

“Er...you’re what?” James looked at him puzzled, as if he’d just been woken up from a nap. 

“Bisexual, Prongs,” the Black replied with an exaggerated sigh. “Means I swing both ways.”

“And...have you?” Peter asked with some kind of a mixture of awe and confusion.  

“Have I what?”

“Snogged a boy?”

“Not yet.” Sirius’ gaze flickered over to Remus for a split second; the werewolf was still adamantly staring at his book but Sirius could see that his eyes were fixated on a single spot on the page. 

“How do you know then?” Peter asked and James shuffled his stare from him back to Sirius. 

“How do people know they’re straight before they get to snog anyone? Or how does Prongs know he wants to spend the rest of his life making sweet love to Evans without having so much as accidentally bumped elbows with her?”

It seemed to take a second for James to register the answer but then he shrugged and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“So… Has anyone in particular caught your eye?” Peter asked and Sirius restrained himself from looking at Remus.

“Nope, no one in particular.”

For a little while, no one said anything, blankly staring at one another as if confunded. Then, Peter went back to his potions essay and James resumed polishing his broom handle. 

“So?” Sirius’ voice was tinged with annoyance now. 

“So what?” James asked without looking up. 

“You lot okay with that? Any thoughts? Feedback? Anything?”

“‘Course we are okay with it!” Peter affirmed. 

“Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense,” James mumbles casually, and Sirius was about to inquire further about that statement, but then he realised that Remus was still frozen in the same position, still pretending to read the same page. 

“Moony?”

“What?” He answered rather quickly. 

“Any thoughts?”

“Of course I am okay with it, Sirius,” he punctuated his irritated response by closing his book with a thud. 

“Sorry we’re not more shocked, mate,” James shrugged. 

* * *

James did his best to keep his focus on professor Slughorn, but his gaze would inadvertently land on the side of Lily Evans’ face time and time again during that day’s Potions lesson. And then, once in a while, he’d look over at Snape; he couldn’t help but wonder why Lily and him weren’t friends anymore. He was happy about it, no doubt; but curious nonetheless.

Even with those distractions, James had to admit that it was an interesting lesson. Slughorn was telling them about the strongest love potion in the world, Amortentia. There was a whole couldronfull of it and James was quite aware of the fact that everyone in the classroom was leaning forward ever so slightly, trying to get closer to its intoxicating scent (which, apparently, smelled of different things to every single person).

A couple of the students jumped in their seats at the sound of a loud knock on the door. Slughorn stared at it for a second and then shuffled over to open it. James looked over at Peter and both grinned when they heard the sound of Sirius’ voice.

“Sorry, sir. Professor McGonagall sent me to get Potter. It’s about Quidditch…”

“Right now? In the middle of the lesson?”

“You know how she gets just before the season starts, sir,” Sirius’ voice carried a note of very well faked innocence.

“Ah yes, I daresay, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of Minerva and the Quidditch cup…” Slughorn wheezed and then mumbled something about ‘insufferable’ and ‘fury’. “Very well then, just make sure to get today’s notes from one of your friends, James.”

James scrambled to his feet, shoved all his stuff in his bag, and rushed out of the classroom. They had done this sort of thing so many times, and had planned so many different, slight variations of it, that he wasn’t worried about getting caught at all anymore. He grinned at Sirius and both started down the corridor, to wait around the corner. If James wasn’t much mistaken, Peter was about to use one of those fake blood capsules from Muggle jokes shops that Remus had introduced them to a while ago. 

Sure enough, no more than five minutes later, Peter appeared with red paint down his front. The brilliance of this particular trick was that Slughorn tried to magic Wormtail’s supposed nosebleed away, but since his nose wasn’t really bleeding, the spell didn’t do anything. Pretty quickly, Slughorn gave up and sent Peter to the hospital wing.

“Why did it smell like coffee, lilacs, and Moony in there?” 

There was a second’s pause and then James turned to Peter, shock and curiosity mirrored in his face too.

“What?” Sirius lifted his hands in a brief shrug when his two friends exchanged very eloquent and very obvious looks. Then he explained rather proudly: “I’ve been able to pick up even the most subtle scents a lot more since I’ve started casually transforming into a massive black dog. Was Remus here already to get you out of Potions?”

James, and by the looks of it, Peter too, knew that the cauldron full of Amortentia was seated nearest to the door, and the only scent that Sirius could have possibly been picking up was that. And it smelled like Moony to him.

“No er…” James shook his head as if waking up from some kind of a trance. “Yeah, Merlin’s beard, that’s incredible! That you can smell things like a bloody dog now!”

“Yeah… Completely!” Peter agreed. “Incredible!”

“Come on, you must have noticed things like that too since last year?” Sirius shrugged again and his two friends exchanged looks, again. “Anywho,” he rolled his eyes, probably thinking that they were trying to mess with him. “Shall we make a quick stop at the kitchen?”

[exotheticc]

Summary: Chanyeol and Kyungsoo decide to punish their bratty sub after she acts out at a Christmas (Eve) party.

Warnings: threesome, daddy kink, brat taming, spanking, slight degrading (and humiliation), (semi?) car sex, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight cumplay, slight impregnation kink (not pulling out), rough sex, squirting, toys, borderline masochism, tbh it's a bit messy so don't read if you're a sensitive soul x

wondering if i could request for daddy chanyeol and daddy kyungsoo punishing bratty reader after she makes them jealous at a during a party since they werent minding her au? your writing is amazing!! - anon

I also got a second request saying something very similar, I assume it was the same anon, sorry for leaving you waiting literally like a year or something x Also merry Christmas, everyone, I hope you're all doing well and have a great holiday! x

"Home. Now." Chanyeol growls into your ear, hand gripping your waist so hard it may leave a bruise.

"But-"

"No but's. Get in the car. I'll be there in a second."

You pout slightly, impressed at how your own flirting skills angered him so quickly. He gets to lurk around those tall, attractive models and you're not allowed to hang around tall, handsome men?

Chanyeol motions you out of the room and you soon find yourself climbing into the nearest car. Of course, it wasn't hard to distinguish it as their car. No one else was rich enough (or pretentious enough) to own a custom made Aston Martin.

When you get inside, you're greeted by Kyungsoo, his eyes fixated on the road in front of him as he's perched at the wheel. His eyes soon meet yours in the rear view mirror, his hand coming to adjust it for the perfect view of the seats behind him.

"We're not very happy with you, princess." Kyungsoo frowns, glancing back at the road ahead. "Chanyeol already told me he's putting on the perfect show for me while I drive."

You roll your eyes, knowing the small gesture will gain you a rougher evening.

Kyungsoo's expression hardens as Chanyeol returns to the car, slamming the door shut behind him and instantly pulling you over his knee. His large hand roams over the back of your thighs, pushing back the Mrs Claus themed dress to reveal your red thong and pert ass.

"Count for me." His words are followed by a sharp slap, a hiss released from your lips.

"One." You sigh,

Another follows.

"Two."

"You've been such a bad girl tonight, Y/N." Chanyeol growls. Smack.

"Three."

"I told you to behave, and you didn't." Smack.

"Four." You can now feel a burning sensation, sure your ass is going red with the force of his hits.

"Did you enjoy acting like a little slut?" he pauses momentarily, "Answer me, Y/N."

"Yes." You smirk, "It was really fun."

Angered by your response, he drags you off his lap and onto the floor by your hair, unzipping his trousers and pulling his cock out. You watch in awe as his large hands engulf his length and he strokes himself. Small beads of precum begin to form at his tip. Yearning to touch him, you reach forwards only to have your hands smacked away. "Bad girls don't get to touch."

The heat between your legs rises to match your cheeks, slightly embarrassed by the rejection.

Chanyeol works himself in long strokes; he runs his thumb over his tip and back down along his length, spreading the precum down his shaft as lubricant. Letting out a soft groan, his eyes meet Kyungsoo's in the mirror and he thrusts his hips upwards into his hand.

You, on the other hand, are practically drooling at the sight, longing to take his member into your mouth and let him empty himself down your throat.

"We're here." Kyungsoo says quietly, the car pulling to a halt. Chanyeol pulls his trousers back up, opening the door and getting out. He leans in to grab you by the hair.

"On your knees."

You feel your eyes well at the humiliation, being forced to crawl. He practically drags you into the house, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder when you finally get inside.

When you get to the bedroom, he dumps you on the bed, glancing at Kyungsoo before sitting behind you to pull off your dress.

Kyungsoo smirks at the weakness of your expression, "Why are you crying, baby?"

"I hardly even touched you." Chanyeol chuckles into your ear, removing your dress completely.

You frown more at the comments, definite that your face must be bright red at this point.

"Tell daddy what's wrong, princess." Kyungsoo moves towards you, gripping your jaw so you face him.

"No." You scowl at him. Chanyeol's hand wraps around your throat, pressing lightly,

"I thought we taught you to be a polite girl." Chanyeol growls,

At your lack of response, Kyungsoo let's go of your jaw, reaching down to pull off your thong and spread your legs.

"So wet already." He purrs, thumb lightly grazing your swollen clit, "Chanyeol. Tie her up."

You gulp as Chanyeol pulls your hands behind your back and wraps his tie around your wrists, knotting it so that you can't move properly. He then pulls you down onto the mattress, licking his lips as he looks down at you.

"I was going to give you this tomorrow, but I think we should open it now." Kyungsoo reaches below the bed, pulling out a medium sized black box tied with a dark red ribbon. His fingers quickly undo the bow, tossing it to the side and opening the box itself.

Your core clenches as he pulls out a new toy: a large vibrator, and places it to your entrance.

"I don't think you need any prep." He grins sadistically, pressing the toy inside of you slowly.

A pained whine falls from your lips at the uncomfortable feeling, and Chanyeol seems to sympathise - pressing his lips against yours in an attempted distraction. You cry out as Kyungsoo begins to thrust it harshly inside of you, almost biting down on Chanyeol's tongue. His fingers trace down your body, gently circling your clit to ease the previous pain.

Turning the vibrator on, Kyungsoo sits back to watch your body writhe, hips thrusting up into the air.

Your body pulses with need, now desperate to reach a climax. The warm feeling draws nearer and you know you'll be hanging on edge. Chanyeol works your clit expertly, flicking it back and forth, pulling on it and massaging it as you draw closer to your high. Letting out a high whine, you clench around the toy, your juices dripping onto the white sheets.

To your frustration Kyungsoo doesn't react, simply watching as you become overstimulated. Chanyeol smirks against your lips, watching small tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Almost expertly, he moves his mouth to between your legs, sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth.

Your sanity is almost gone, head clouded with pleasure and frustration, eyes rolling back as you get lost in the blissful feeling. A serious of incoherent sounds leave your lips while Chanyeol's tongue plays with your sore bud.

The familiar feeling of warmth builds up in your core, your hands grasping frantically at the sheets below you. Kyungsoo is also lost in the moment, murmuring, "Go on, baby, cum all over the sheets."

At his words, your back arches and you almost black at at the intense feeling - Chanyeol thrusting the vibrator in and out of you as you throw your head back.

Only once you open your eyes do you realise you had squirted, the bedding dampened with liquid cum. Chanyeol looks up at you from between your legs, "Holy shit."

"We're not done yet, princess." Kyungsoo appears from opposite you, turning the vibrator off and pulling it out of you. "On your stomach. Now."

You slowly turn yourself over, tired from the intense orgasms that make your pussy ache more with unbelievable need.

"Open your mouth for daddy," Chanyeol hums, positioning himself at the opposite end of the bed from Kyungsoo. You do as he says, letting him sink his cock into your warm mouth.

Kyungsoo presses his tip against your entrance, pushing inside your velvety walls at a torturous pace.

"Good girl." Kyungsoo praises, admiring how you take Chanyeol's thick length. Saliva beads at the edge of your lips, only to drop down and onto the sheets. Chanyeol's cock pulsates in your mouth, slowly going further down into your throat. He begins to thrust, gripping your hair with his hands as you lie there and take it.

Kyungsoo also begins to thrust, content at how soaking wet your cum-filled pussy is. "Fuck, you take me so well."

You moan at his words, Chanyeol grunting as the vibrations travel along his cock.

You loved having Chanyeol in your mouth, he was a little larger than Kyungsoo and his load was large. Kyungsoo on the other hand was so good at hitting your sweet spot, he really had it mastered.

"You like it rough don't you, baby?" Chanyeol pulls at your hair, watching in satisfaction as a mixture of your drool and tears cover his length. He was really hitting the back of your throat, your own nose pressed into his skin as he pushed you down further. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

You whine loudly around his thick member as Kyungsoo rams straight into your G-spot. Lost in the bliss, you swallow Chanyeol's load as his hot cum spurts down your throat. Your own release draws closer, your mouth now empty and instead moaning loudly.

"Oh shit, I'm close." Kyungsoo groans, holding your hips to him as he thrusts harder. His length slides in and out of you with such ease yet you can still feel each ridge of his cock, "Want me to fill you up with my cum?"

"No-o, p-pull out." You beg, desperate for him not to cum inside you. Hit with your own high, your walls spasm around his cock, sending him to his release.

"F-fuck, I can't." Kyungsoo let's out a load groan as your pussy milks his cock, thick streams of white pumped inside of you. You let out a feeble whine in defeat.

Chanyeol watches as Kyungsoo pulls out, his hand reaching over to gently thrust Kyungsoo's cum back inside of you.

Whimpering, you're eyes begin to close at the soft, warm sensation, and before you know it you've fallen asleep - leaving the two to clean you up.

[richieisabastardman]

The Demon and The Witch - Part 1 (Crowley x Reader)

Summary:  In 1519, your ancestor made a deal with a demon that protected your family for eternity. In return, your family devoted themselves to the demon Crowley. When Crowley loses track of your family suddenly and without reason, he panics. Decades later, you walk into a little bookstore owned by a kind man. When you are introduced to his tall, red-headed friend, you can't help but think that fate had brought the two of you (back) together. (Fluff, Eventual Romance & Smut).

Word count:  4,135

Notes:  This is going to be a long series that eventually leads to a relationship between Crowley and the reader. Any witch references etc. is probably not in line with how witches work within the show/book, but for the sake of the story I wanted to create my own lore. Hopefully you guys enjoy slow burns (though not really because there's already so much tension in this first chapter between the two of them).

Masterlist

In the year 1519, Anthony J. Crowley, at that time only known by the latter part of his name, walked into a forest far from the hustle of the London streets in which he usually roamed. It had been night, and therefore dark, and the growth of the trees above him had meant that the light of the moon could not guide his path. This was no matter, of course, as he was not a mere mortal. It was, however, a slight inconvenience. Despite being a demon, he did quite enjoy a bit of light to guide his journey, if not purely for the symbolism.

He had been summoned to the forest in a traditional, witchy sort of way. The way that involved candles and incense and incessant chanting. He had appreciated the effort the summoner had put into the ordeal, even though it was not at all necessary. A letter to his home would have worked just as well.

Still, he continued walking, the mud and muck beneath his shoes producing a squelching sound that he wasn’t very fond of. The night was freezing, but Crowley could sense the warmth of a bonfire as he neared a clearing.

A woman stood next to the fire, holding her hands together in front of her person, rubbing them together nervously. Crowley could feel her fear. It radiated off of her in waves that he was sure demons and angels alike could feel for miles. Regular humans would not exude such a strong energy.

As he expected, the woman was a witch.

As he walked closer to the fire he stepped on a thin branch and the sound of it cracking in half echoed through the woods. “Dammit” he whispered. Crowley had always had a flare for the dramatic and preferred a traditional, ominous entrance to any meeting he attended.

“Demon? Show yourself to me!” the woman yelled.

“Alright, alright I’m here no need to yell” Crowley replied, pushing away a branch to step into the brightly lit clearing where the woman stood.

“Are you the demon Crowley?” she asked, her eyes examining his thin frame and curled, long hair. His features were angular, but in no way demonic. He could sense her sizing him up and smiled.

“Indeed I am” he replied.

“You look fairly...human” she stated cautiously.

The demon reached for his sunglasses, removing them to reveal bright yellow irises surrounding a slitted pupil. The woman gasped lightly before nodding to herself, attempting to calm her rapid breath. “I see”.

“Haven’t done much demon work, I take it?” Crowley said, beginning to circle the bonfire which sat in the middle of the clearing. The woman moved away from him, slowly walking further around the bonfire in order to avoid any close proximity to the demon.

“I’m desperate” she admitted, almost whispering.

“Why?” Crowley returned.

“The town speaks of witches and witchcraft” she said, her chest heaving with her heavy, fearful breaths.

“Oh, do they? I wonder why?” Crowley responded, gaze fixated on the circle of candles, herbs and crystals that surrounded the bonfire. “You could be a bit more discreet”.

“It is my heritage. My birthright. Who am I to deny it?” She spoke and Crowley pursed his lips in thought before nodding his head.

“I suppose” He replied.

“I was caught” she explained “I was caught with certain books and herbs and sigils”.

“Oh, not sigils. You can never get caught with sigils” Crowley said, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“I fear they may wish to kill me” she said.

“What do you want me to do about it” Crowley replied.

“Protect me. Guide me. Enhance my practice. Care for me.” She had stopped moving away from him, instead facing him on the other side of the bonfire. She stared into his eyes, refusing to break her gaze despite their snakish appearance. Her fear had all but dissipated as she propositioned the demon. He had to admit, her bravery charmed him just a little. Human bravery always did.

“And what do I get in return?” he asked.

“My soul”

“Pfft.” Crowley huffed, rolling his eyes at her offer.

“My devotion for eternity”

“The issue with that, is that you are merely mortal” he sang slightly.

“My devotion for eternity through my daughter, and my daughter’s daughter, and her daughter’s daughter, until the end of time or the end of family’s line” the woman explained.

Crowley’s interest suddenly peaked. He was quite fond of human devotion, though he would never admit it. Not just devotion to him (though there was a period in ancient Greece where a temple was built in his honour and he had a small following of cultists that his ego quite enjoyed), but human devotion in general.

The willingness of a human to throw themselves into the fire for a cause. To martyr oneself, to put one’s life on the line for another, the brotherhood of man as it was later called. Of course, this sort of action also led its way to things a bit more sinister, such as the willingness to kill others for one’s cause, an issue that was present for the woman currently pleading with him.

The thought of generations of young witch women devoting their life and practice to him lit something within him. He was sure that the fire behind his eyes was visible to the witch lady, as she took a step back from him.

“It’s a deal,” he said, smiling at the woman. She withdrew herself further.

“How do we seal it” the woman asked, her hands once again hovering in front of her and rubbing together in a nervous gesture.

“Like all good deals - with a kiss” Crowley smirked, but dropped his lips quickly when he saw the terror upon the woman’s face. “Though I am happy to settle for a handshake”.

~~~

And so Crowley kept his end of the deal, as all good demons do. He thwarted the interest of the local puritans from the woman, allowing her to continue her practice in peace and without fear of persecution. When she birthed a daughter, and taught her daughter the craft, Crowley watched over her too. He had seen her first steps, her first words and her first marriage. Great Uncle Crowley, as he was called by the youngin, was worshipped in modern ways by the family. The small child would bring him flowers she had picked from her garden and he would accept them happily. Her mother would bring him alcohol and he would accept it ecstatically. In return, the demon would bless their ventures and punish those who wished to harm them.

As generations were born and eventually birthed more children, they began to forget their heritage and their promise. They also began to forget Crowley.

Despite this, Crowley did not forget them.

Whilst he was a demon, he was not one to break an eternal pact. That would defeat the purpose, he supposed, of the eternal part of the pact. He continued to watch the women grow and bring forth more children. More importantly he watched them survive and thrive within the world. He watched the women birth world leaders, revolution starters and martyrs. He helped them where he could, however they generally appeared to get along quite well for themselves.

Until one day, on a sunny afternoon in 1923 - after centuries of watching after the children of the witch, he lost track of them.

Crowley had driven over to Edinburgh to do a quick miracle for his angel, Aziraphale. On return, he had planned to check in again on his girls. Sitting within Aziraphale’s bookstore, holding tightly onto a cup of tea and swirling the spoon within the cooling mixture softly, the sound of the teaspoon hitting the sides of the china lulled his eyes to a close. Aziraphale was looking at him disapprovingly for his rudeness, however his stare was missed by the demon. Crowley focused his energy on his mind’s eye, chanting a quiet mantra to himself.

On previous occasions of using such a technique, he would feel his spirit shift from within the earthly body he possessed to engulfing all that was and ever will be. He became the teacup he held, the seat in which he sat. He also became the sky, the sea, the Thames. Importantly, he became the women in which he had agreed to shelter. He saw what they saw, felt what they felt, knew what they knew. He would know where they were, who they were with and what they were doing. He could keep tabs on them in order to help them where he could,and in order to keep his word on the pact in which he had agreed.

And so he became the tea cup, and the chair, and the sky and the sea and the Thames, and as he shifted his focus on finding the women, he could not find them. Not anywhere on Earth at least.

“Huh” Crowley spoke, opening his eyes slowly.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale questioned, his reading glasses covering his curious gaze which was fixed upon the demon. He did not need the glasses of course, but he felt a sort of comfort in their weight upon his nose.

“I can’t find her” Crowley said, eyebrows furrowed in concern. For a moment he thought that, perhaps, she had died. Upon this thought, he further realised that even if she had died, he still would have known where she was. No she was not dead. She had just sort of vanished. She had disappeared off of his radar.

A wave of panic ran down his slim body, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. He had never had goosebumps before. He had also never lost a human before. He supposed there were first times for everything.

“Well, where is she?” Aziraphale asked, voice laced slightly with concern. The girl was not, of course, his concern. However, a human disappearing from the gaze of any non-human being was unheard of.

“I dont….know” the demon spoke. He looked up at Aziraphale, and for the first time in the nearly six thousand years he had known the angel, his face displayed human signals of fear.

“Surely she’s somewhere. Would you like me to have a look? I’m happy to-”

“No angel you don’t understand. I’ve been watching this family for centuries. I’ve known where they are, what they’re thinking, who they’re with, what they’re doing. Their needs, their wants, their hates. I’ve never lost them, Aziraphale. Something is very wrong”.

~

Very few witches by blood are currently aware that they are witches. Often the ritualistic aspect of the craft is lost throughout generations, resulting in plenty of born-witches but very few practising witches.

You were not aware of your heritage. You were also not aware of your ancestor’s eternal pact with a certain demon. You were further not aware that said demon had been searching for your family for decades. All of these things you were very much not aware of when you walked into Mr. Fell’s bookstore a month ago. Since your first meeting with the man (where he had nearly tackled you for attempting to buy one of his books), the two of you had become close companions and had easily fallen into a quaint routine. You went to your university classes during the day, and in the evenings you would come visit the older man, helping him sort out his mess of a store.

It was strange to you how quickly the two of you had become close, especially considering the considerable age gap between the two of you. However, you supposed the man was quite lonely all by himself within the shop. He told you he had a friend who usually visited him, however he was out of town for a few weeks trying to find an old friend. You had told him you were happy to take his place for a while and Mr. Fell was glad for it.

“Mr. Fell~” you sang as you entered the store, peaking your head around the store to find the older man.

After stumbling upon his store the month before, you had been drawn inside by the eeriness of the building. It was old and creeped you out slightly, however the inside had a warm, comforting vibe that you could only credit to the angelic looking man who owned the store.

You heard Mr. Fell  sing your name back to you from the backroom of the store, where he was surely sitting with a book and having tea after a long day of avoiding trade. You skipped slightly to follow the voice, spinning yourself as you entered the back room.

“Oh Mr. Fell I’ve had the strangest day you won’t belie-” you stopped yourself, your gaze locking onto the slim, tall, sunglasses-wearing man who sat in your usual seat.

You smiled, embarrassed by your antics that this stranger had just had to witness. He smiled back curiously, refusing to break the gaze the two of you held.

“Hi” you tried to say, but it came out as barely a whisper.

“Hi” he returned, smirking and much more confident in his delivery. His arm was draped across the back of the lounge in which he sat, his ankle resting on the knee of his opposite leg. He exuded a confidence you had never felt from another man before. It was otherworldly.

You realised that this must have been the friend Mr. Fell was missing.

Mr. Fell cleared his throat from where he sat behind you and you spun around, smiling sheepishly at him. “I didn’t realise you had a guest, I wouldn’t have come-”

“Oh no dear! Don’t you worry. Mr. Crowley was just leaving”.

Crowley, you repeated his name within your mind.

Crowley.

Why did that sound familiar to you.

CrOwLeY.

Oh! , you thought, that was the name of that occultist. You had just been reading a book on the occult that Mr. Fell had lent you, that must have been where you spotted the name. A slightly spooky coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless , you thought.

Your train of thought was halted by the sound of the stranger standing up behind you, beginning to leave the backroom.

“Wait!” you practically yelled “You don’t have to leave on my account, Mr. Crowley! Please, stay”. You hadn’t meant it to sound so desperate, yet the need within your voice was clearly not lost to the man. He smiled at you, and then looked up at Mr. Fell.

You supposed Mr. Fell must have gestured for him to sit back down, because he did, inviting you to sit beside him. You, of course, had missed this gesture as your eyes had not left the tall man, whose hair (you had just realised) was a wonderful red colour.

“Would you care for some tea, my dear” Mr. Fell offered.

“Or perhaps some wine” Crowley offered, raising an eyebrow and pouting his lips slightly. He held the bottle within his hands and shook it slightly, tempting you with it’s contents.

“Oh surely not-” Mr. Fell began, giving Crowley a pointed look but he was interrupted by your exclamation.

“I wouldn’t mind some wine”. And so Crowley poured you a glass and watched as you took your first sip, smiling for the nth time at your little hum of pleasure at the taste.

“I suppose I will put this away then” Mr. Fell mumbled, packing his tea-set up and leaving to place it in another room.

You hummed at your friend’s statement, not completely sure what he had said. If you had, you would have felt quite bad for rejecting your friend's offer of tea, as it was somewhat of a tradition for the two of you to have tea together every afternoon.

But you were once again lost in learning every crevice and curve of your new friends face. You wished you could see his eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of thick, dark sunglasses. You always had your imagination, you supposed. You suspected they were a bright amber in the light of the sun and a deep brown in the light of the moon.

You wondered why he kept the glasses on inside. Was it the fluorescent lighting? Perhaps he had horrible migraines because of the lighting. How inconsiderate of Mr. Fell to not turn off the lights for the sake of this poor, poor man. Though the more you thought about it, you were sure Mr. Fell would be on top of something like that. He was not one to revel in others’ misfortune or discomfort. He was a lovely man.

“So, how do you know Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, resting his elbow on the back of the lounge to face you properly.

“Azira...Oh! Is that his first name? Azira. A-ZIR-AH. Huh. That’s very pretty. Is it hebrew?” you asked but the man ignored your question.

“I suppose you only know him as Mr. Fell then” he said and you nodded your head, taking another large sip of wine.

“Oh yes. He never told me his full name. I’m not sure why. I never really questioned it” you rambled and the man watched you intently, smiling again when you took another large sip of wine. “I met him in this shop” you explained “I came in here and chatted with him. It’s funny, I’m not the chatting type..”.

“No?” Crowley raised an eyebrow, teasing you slightly.

“No” you smiled back, blushing slightly and embarrassed by your rambling “but Mr. Fell is very easy to talk to. He knows a lot about everything”.

“That he does” the man said “With all these books that he reads, I’d hope so”. Crowley’s gaze left yours momentarily to admire the vast amount of books that surrounded the two of you.

“What was your first name?” you slurred, only then realising how quickly the wine had hit you. You raised the glass to your mouth once again to take another sip, only to find the glass was empty. Crowley chuckled at your actions before placing his hand around your hand that held the glass to steady it, and then filling the glass.

“My names Anthony” he said, placing the bottle of wine back onto the table after refilling his own glass.

“Anthony Crowley” you repeated, swirling the wine in your glass.

“Technically Anthony J. Crowley” he corrected.

“What’s the J stand for?” you asked, pouting slightly.

“Just a J” he replied and you furrowed your brows before humming, shrugging your shoulders at this strange man’s even stranger name.

Crowley observed your features as you gazed around the room, appreciating the store more in your state of intoxication. That wine was far too strong, you thought. Maybe it was moonshine.

You felt his gaze upon you, but being too drunk to be flushed, you continued to act as though you had not noticed, allowing him to stare at you a little longer than what would be considered normal curious gazing one partakes in when they meet someone new. Your lack of reciprocal staring (and your slight intoxication)  meant that you did not realise he was staring at you for more than the reason you assumed. He stared at you like he was trying to put a name to face. He gazed as though he was sure he had seen you somewhere before, but he wasn’t sure where.

He was trying to recognise you, and yet he had just met you.

“I hope you aren’t irritating my poor human friend, Crowley” Aziraphale said as he trotted back into the room, seating himself once again in his chair.

At the fault of the alcohol in your system, you laughed a little too hard at Mr. Fell referring to you as a human friend. The man spoke so oddly, it seemed like he was from a different time. Or an alien. Or an alien from a different time. You continued to chuckle, spilling a bit of wine from your glass onto the ground in the process.

“Oh no!” you pouted, staring sadly at the puddle on the floor of your friend's bookstore.

Aziraphale stared angrily at Crowley, a silent accusation against the demon. Crowley raised his hands in his defence, a gesture meaning to signify that he played no part in your current intoxication, and that it was of your own free will that you had decided to partake in such drinking activity. The angel however did not budge, his gaze practically burning holes into the demon.

“Would you like me to drive her home?” Crowley sighed.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Mr. Crowley” Aziraphale stated sternly in a voice you had only heard once (a few weeks ago, when a man had refused to stand down when Aziraphale rejected his monetary offer for a book he was particularly fond of).

~

“Oh I LOVE Queen” you slurred, staring at the collection of tapes within the man’s car. He drove a Bentley - which had you not been so drunk, you may have appreciated more.

“Well I’ve got a lot of it in here, so you’re practically in Heaven I suppose” he said, and then shivered slightly at his use of the word Heaven. This was lost to you of course, as you were intently analysing the back of one of his tape’s cases. “You are quite a light weight” he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that played softly from the speakers.

“Always have been” you asserted, staring at him from the passenger's seat of the car. “It’s almost magical how quickly alcohol affects me”.

It is a little known fact that witches have a dominant gene that makes them intolerant to alcohol. This intolerance is often overlooked by witches (especially those who aren’t aware that they are witches) as it manifests itself in a slight flush of the skin, and the extremely quick absorption of alcohol into the bloodstream. Crowley was aware of this genetic fact, of course, after many years of watching witches get hammered during rituals. His application of this to you, however, was absent, as he was too busy admiring your soft hair and skin and the pink tinge on your lips from the wine you had been drinking.

“Mmm” Crowley hummed, smiling at you. His smile was different from the ones he had graced you with within the shop. Those had been more cunning and slightly sly. This smile was genuine. You supposed it would reach his eyes, if you could see them.

You watched him look down towards your chest and you chuckled “Eyes are up here, Mr. Crowley”.

The man was startled, mouth agape at your accusation as he shook his head. “Oh no. No, no, no. I wasn’t-. That wasn’t-.” He huffed, closing his mouth before speaking again “I was looking at your necklace”.

You looked down to the necklace that hung low on your chest, just above your cleavage. It was a gold circle, with engravings all along the edges and one large engraving in the middle. “Oh, this old thing” you said, rolling it between your fingers “it’s from my Great-Grandma”.

“Family heirloom?” Crowley asked and you shook your head.

“I mean sort of. My mum told me, when she gave it to me, that Great-Grandma had been given it by some lady who lived in her neighbourhood when she was a child. The lady said it was to look after her - to ward off evil”.

Crowley stared at the jewelry, observing the writing that had been etched deeply into the gold. “Do you know what the writing is?” Crowley asked. It was old, some ancient language definitely. However the markings were not familiar to the demon at all, and he had been around for the creation of language itself. Goosebumps raised upon the demon’s skin for the first time in a long time.

“No clue” you replied, staring at the jewellery once again. “I’ve been trying to find out actually. I’ve been looking through a lot of the books at Mr. Fell’s shop, but I haven’t had any luck yet”.

Crowley didn’t reply. Instead, he listened to your light humming to the songs that played on his radio and tried to calm the anxiety he felt rising within his mind and body.

It probably isn’t even a language, he thought, it’s probably just scribbles and decoration.

And if it was anything, surely the angel would have said something. He had been friends with the girl for weeks and he would have definitely seen the necklace at some point during that time.

Crowley began to calm at this thought, a smile coming onto his lips as he heard you belting out the intro to bohemian rhapsody, clearly still drunk.