#Except for that one time in his wicked phase

[wholoveseggs]

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

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[nouearth]

a business trip.

john wick x male reader.

warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.

request.

the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of—became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed. 

in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat. 

the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled. 

but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?

the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.

oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.

unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority. 

“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”

the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.

it was… strange.

“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”

though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”

“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.

“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.

handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.

“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”

“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”

“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”

you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”

“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”

“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”

“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”

“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”

but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.

“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.

it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.

you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act. 

worst he could do is say no…

“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”

john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs. 

it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer. 

after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”

as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.

“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away. 

“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share. 

complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.

but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.

“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”

“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric. 

you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks. 

john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“ 

he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn. 

briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”

simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.

your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.

he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.

but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply. 

without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube. 

“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips. 

his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”

“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“

john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”

you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.

and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.

“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.

his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.

but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“

“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along. 

there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.

overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.

“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”

and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”

“f-fuck, yes!”

in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body. 

it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his. 

warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick. 

his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.

“so... how long until you’re leaving?”

“mmmph, four more days….”

"good."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[merthosus]

Hi! It's my first time requesting something so please excuse me if my explanation is bad. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Okay so uh I have this convo with a Five Hargreeves C.ai bot it went on like uh Five and reader are arguing with each other and Five said 'I hope you died in the apocalypse' which end up reader got upset and taking it seriously.

This take place around season 2 before The Handler sent Five to kill board members(?), I forgot what they called, so Y/N went to the Commission and snatch a brief case but got caught and uh got killed.

You can decide what power Y/N have but it should have a connection to teleportation since I was thinking that it's how Y/N managed to sneak into the Commission, again my apology if it's hard to understand (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) and uh if you want I can send my convo with the bot to you if it's going to help (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

The argument

Summary: After Five telling you horrible things about what he thinks about you, you make his dreams true Involuntarily you get hurt by the handler and five finally sees the truth worth of you being by his side, alive...

Thank you for your request, loved the idea behind that!! Loving the angsty trope :)

"I wish you had died in the apocalypse"

The argument started like most of them did—stress, frustration, and Five’s single-minded obsession with the mission. But tonight, something felt different. The air between you and Five was heavy, thicker than usual, and the words you were hurling at each other were sharper, more hurtful.

“I’m tired of this, Five! You treat me like I’m just another one of your problems to solve!” you shouted, hands trembling with anger. "You don't care about anyone except yourself!" Five stood rigid, his jaw clenched as he glared at you. “You think I have time to care about your feelings right now? We’re trying to stop the goddamn apocalypse!"

"And what if I didn’t want to help you anymore?" you fired back, heart pounding. "What if I just disappeared?" "Maybe that would be better,” he snapped, his voice cold and unforgiving. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to keep cleaning up after you! You’ve been nothing but a distraction!"

The words hit you like a slap, but you stood your ground, refusing to let him see the pain behind your eyes. “Is that what you really think?” Five’s expression darkened. “I wish you had died in the apocalypse.” The room went silent. His words echoed between you like a death sentence. Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the sting of tears welling up, but you swallowed them down. “Fine,” you whispered, voice trembling. “If that’s how you feel, then I’m done.”

Before he could say another word, you disappeared—teleporting away, leaving him alone in the echo of his own cruelty.

Anger still roiled in your chest as you phased into the Commission, your teleportation power allowing you to slip past their security systems without a trace. You weren’t thinking straight, but you had a plan—a reckless one. If Five didn’t care, then what was stopping you from taking matters into your own hands?

You crept through the labyrinth of the Commission’s corridors, your goal clear: grab a briefcase and get out. Maybe you could fix things on your own, or maybe… you didn’t know anymore. All you wanted was to escape the pain, to make Five regret pushing you away. But just as your hand touched a briefcase, a voice cut through the air. “Well, well, well,” the Handler’s cold, saccharine voice echoed through the room. “Isn’t this a surprise?”

You froze. Before you could react, Commission agents swarmed you, guns raised and aimed at your head. Your powers flickered, but something was wrong—you couldn’t teleport out. The Handler stepped forward, a wicked smile on her face. “Teleporters like you really should know better than to try this here.” You tried to fight back, but it was no use. A single gunshot rang out, and pain exploded through your chest.

You collapsed, the briefcase slipping from your grasp as darkness closed in.

As your vision blurred and the icy grip of pain tightened around your chest, you heard the Handler’s heels clicking closer. The sharp scent of gunpowder filled the air, mingling with the metallic taste of blood rising in your throat.

“Well, isn’t this poetic,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You were always too ambitious for your own good.”

Your body screamed in agony, but you forced yourself to stay conscious, the adrenaline barely keeping you tethered to reality. Gasping for air, you managed to lift your head enough to meet her gaze, defiance flickering in your eyes.

"I—I won’t let you win,” you choked out, your voice ragged and weak, but the fire in your heart still burning despite the looming darkness.

The Handler tilted her head, her smile widening. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve already lost.” She crouched down beside you, reaching out to tap a perfectly manicured nail against the briefcase you’d almost claimed. “But don’t worry, you’ve served your purpose.”

As the edges of your vision darkened, a strange calm settled over you. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was the thought of Five—of the cold words he had thrown at you, pushing you to this point. You had come here, driven by anger and pain, but now that your life was slipping away, all you could think of was him. How much you had cared for him. How much it hurt that he didn’t feel the same.

But just as the world began to fade, something shifted. The air in the room crackled with a familiar energy, one that you knew all too well. Time itself seemed to warp, bending unnaturally, and you realized with a jolt that someone had followed you here.

A moment later, the Handler’s satisfied smirk twisted into surprise as the familiar blue flash of teleportation split the room. And there he was—Five, standing in the middle of the chaos, his face pale and eyes wide with something that looked far too much like regret.

“You,” he growled, his gaze locking onto the Handler as he took in the scene—the blood pooling around you, the briefcase abandoned at your side, and your body crumpled on the floor. “What the hell did you do?” The Handler stood up, her cool demeanor still intact despite Five’s obvious fury. “You should be thanking me, Five. She was just a distraction, wasn’t she? Isn’t that what you said?”

Five’s eyes flickered with something raw, something haunted. His jaw clenched as he slowly turned toward you, kneeling beside your body. His hands were shaking, uncharacteristically so, as he pressed them to your wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "You're not dying," he muttered, almost as if saying it aloud would make it true. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, your breathing shallow and labored, but the sound of his voice—desperate, breaking—kept you anchored. For a second, you wondered if you were hallucinating, if this was some fevered dream brought on by blood loss. But the pain was too real, the cold creeping into your limbs too sharp to be anything but reality. "No... no..", he muttered, as the handler left the room. "I didn't mean to..."; he whispers.

Five’s voice trembled, a sound so foreign to you that it barely registered at first. You blinked through the haze of pain, forcing yourself to focus on him, on the boy—no, the man—who always seemed so invincible, so sure of himself. But now, here he was, on his knees beside you, his mask of indifference shattered.

“I didn’t mean it,” Five whispered again, his voice breaking as his hands pressed harder against your wound. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. You weren’t supposed to—" He swallowed, his throat constricting as the weight of his own words seemed to crash down on him.

A bitter taste filled your mouth as you tried to speak, but the blood loss made your words slur, your body too weak to move. Even so, you managed to meet his eyes—those piercing blue eyes that had always been so cold, now filled with a desperation you had never seen before.

“Why… did you… follow me?” you rasped, your voice barely a whisper, each word taking more effort than the last.

Five’s eyes flickered with guilt, shame, and something else—something softer, deeper, that made your chest tighten for reasons other than the gunshot wound.

“Because I couldn’t let you go,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Not like this. Not ever.” His hand tightened around yours, his grip trembling as though you might slip away from him at any second. “I thought I could push you away… that I could keep you safe by making you hate me. But all I did was drive you straight into danger. I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

A weak laugh escaped your lips, but it was more of a cough, and it sent a fresh wave of pain through your chest. "Took you… long enough," you muttered, your voice barely audible, but Five heard you. His lips twitched into a sad, bitter smile. “I know,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the blood staining his hands. “I’m an idiot.”

The room around you felt colder, the edges of your vision beginning to blur again as the blood loss took its toll. You felt yourself slipping further away, but Five’s voice kept pulling you back—like a tether to the world you were on the verge of leaving.

"Stay with me," he urged, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a desperation that you had never heard from him before. "I can fix this. I will fix this. I just need you to hold on a little longer."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to trust that he could make everything right, that the pain you were feeling wasn’t permanent. But as your body grew colder, it became harder and harder to fight the darkness that was creeping in. “Five…” you whispered, your voice barely a breath, “I don’t… want to leave… you.”

Five’s expression twisted in pain, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said fiercely, as if sheer force of will could keep you tethered to life. “You’re staying right here with me.”

Five’s hand tightened around yours, as if his sheer grip could tether you to the world and keep the darkness at bay. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by raw desperation that sent a shiver through you, despite the numbness creeping in. You could feel his pulse racing through his fingertips—steady, alive, unlike the faint, weakening beat of your own.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry for everything I said.” His eyes bore into yours, pleading, the cold blue of them softened by the wet sheen of tears he refused to let fall. “You were never a distraction. You were the only thing keeping me sane in all of this chaos.”

His words, laced with guilt and something like fear, hit you harder than the gunshot. You had always known Five cared in his own way, but hearing him say it now, when it might be too late, was like a bittersweet echo in the hollow space between life and death.

You tried to speak, but the pain was too much, your breath too shallow. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion and the creeping cold. The world around you began to blur again, slipping away despite Five’s grip. “No,” he muttered, his voice fierce now. “Stay with me. You’re not going anywhere.” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I won’t let you go.”

You wanted to stay, wanted to fight, but the pull of the darkness was so strong, and the pain so overwhelming. You could feel your consciousness slipping, the world fading away in pieces. But before you could fall into that abyss completely, something shifted—a familiar hum of energy rippled through the air.

Five stiffened beside you, his head snapping up, eyes widening as the blue glow of the briefcase intensified. The air around you crackled with power, time itself seeming to bend and twist as if reality were being rewritten. “I’m going to fix this,” Five murmured, his voice filled with a renewed sense of urgency. “I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

Your vision wavered as you watched him frantically adjust the dials on the briefcase, his fingers moving with a precision only he possessed. The hum grew louder, the light brighter, and then, with a sudden jolt, everything around you warped. Your whole body was sucking up the pain.

The world twisted and bent, the crackling energy from the briefcase tearing at the edges of reality, until suddenly everything snapped back into place. The cold, sterile halls of the Commission vanished, replaced by something softer, warmer. You blinked, your mind disoriented, the sharp, unbearable pain that had gripped your body dulling into an almost distant ache.

Slowly, you became aware of your surroundings. You weren’t lying on the cold floor of the Commission anymore. The familiar scent of old books, faint cologne, and wood polish filled your senses. You were in Five’s room, lying in his bed, the heavy blankets tucked around you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if this was real, or if you were simply dreaming, caught in some strange limbo between life and death. But the warmth was too real, the sound of your own ragged breathing too loud in your ears.

You shifted slightly, the movement sending a wave of soreness through your body. A soft groan escaped your lips as your hand instinctively went to your chest, where the bullet had struck you. But instead of the expected searing pain, your fingers found smooth bandages tightly wrapped around the wound. It was tender, but healing. You were alive.

The realization hit you like a shock, and just as you were about to sit up, you felt a weight beside you on the bed. Turning your head, you saw Five, slumped in a chair pulled up next to the bed, his head resting in his hands, elbows on his knees. His clothes were rumpled, dark circles etched beneath his eyes, and for the first time, he looked… vulnerable. Exhausted.

The tension in his posture, the way his shoulders sagged, told you more than any words ever could. He had saved you—brought you back from the brink of death—and now, after everything, he was sitting there, waiting for you to wake up.

You shifted again, trying to adjust your position, and the small movement made Five glance up. His sharp blue eyes met yours instantly, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The relief that washed over his face was so raw, so palpable, it took your breath away.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but laced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Am I... really here?”

Five stood abruptly, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor. He moved closer to the bed, his expression still guarded but softer, more open than you had ever seen it. "Yes. You're safe. I told you I'd fix it." His voice cracked slightly, betraying the storm of emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the weight of what had happened hung between you. The argument. The gunshot. The way he had followed you despite everything.

"Five," you began, your voice weak, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

"Don’t," he said quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to control himself. "Just... don’t. I don't want to hear an apology, or a thank you. Not after what I did. What I said."

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. The pain of his earlier words still lingered, but seeing him like this—so raw and human—made it hard to hold onto the anger.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he continued, his voice tight. “I thought if I pushed you away, if I made you hate me, it would be easier to protect you. To keep you out of danger. But I was wrong. I’m always wrong about these things.”

You could hear the guilt, the self-loathing, threaded through his words. And in that moment, it was clear that this was more than just about the argument. This was about everything—about how Five had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, how he had never known how to let anyone in, how he was terrified of losing the few people he actually cared about.

With effort, you lifted your hand and reached out, fingers brushing against his. "You saved me," you whispered, your voice still weak but steady. "That's all that matters now."

Five stared down at your hand, his lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into his usual cold, calculating self. But then, slowly, he entwined his fingers with yours, gripping your hand tightly.

“I almost didn’t,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “I almost lost you. And I—" He cut himself off, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. But you could see it in his eyes, the way they glistened in the dim light. He cared. More than you had ever realized. “You didn’t lose me,” you said, squeezing his hand as best as you could. "I'm right here."

Five’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a tender, almost absentminded gesture. He stood there for a long moment, just holding your hand, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you might disappear again.

“I’m not going to push you away anymore,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t. Not after this.”

There was a vulnerability in his words that made your chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t from the wound. It was from something deeper, something that had been buried beneath all the anger and fear. You nodded slowly, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your consciousness again, but you fought to stay awake, to hold onto this moment.

“Good,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” Five’s lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile, though his eyes were still shadowed with worry. "Get some rest," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your hand once more before he reluctantly let go. "You need it."

You wanted to protest, to stay awake and talk more, but the warmth of the bed and the comfort of knowing you were safe, that Five was there, watching over you, was too much to resist. Your eyelids grew heavy, and before you knew it, sleep was pulling you under. As you drifted off, you felt the lightest pressure of his hand returning to yours, as if silently promising that he wouldn’t leave your side—not this time.

Hope you guys like it ;)

[nomsfaultau]

The Lambs Wolves Wear part 7

Dark SBI AU where Philza’s human children were replaced by monsters. Start of The Lambs Wolves Wear is here.

“You promise you won’t get mad?” “Tommy” asked nervously, pacing before him.

“I could never be mad at you,” Philza gently told the thing that had stolen his son from him. The shapeshifting demon dithered, wringing his claws. Then the towering beast crouched before him, piercing yellow eyes skewering the tiny mortal. The muzzle housing sharp fangs and rancid breath butted its nose against his chest. 

“Can you pleeeease make that a blood oath?” A growl hissed in his throat as Philza refused, but it turned into a whimper as Philza gave him a disappointed look. Philza wasn’t exactly sure how he’d gained dominance over a demon, but “Tommy” was utterly terrified of his wrath today. Strange. Usually he scoffed at mortal disapproval. The demon mulled his quandary over, then declared: “If you get mad at me, I shall slaughter you and raze your land. I shall curse your bloodline to a thousand generations so that your ancestors are ashamed and your descendants revile you. 

“What have I said about death threats?” “Tommy” snarled in a lash of embers, and Philza braced himself not to flinch. Fear only encouraged “Tommy” further, and any threat could be turned into a bluff if you challenged it bravely enough. Not that he was all bark and no bite; the beast had wicked fangs, but only if you didn’t evade in time. After months living with the expectation he would be ripped to shreds the moment he slipped up, Philza was far less phased than he used to be. 

“But it’s a special occasion. Can’t you make an exception this one time?” Philza stood his ground, and the demon’s eyes darkened, thunder rolling overhead. Body contorting in gut wrenching ways, the shapeshifter surged forward in a blur of morphing form. “Tommy” twisted himself into the disguise of Philza’s son once more, tears blossoming in his adorable eyes as the demon begged. 

It felt like the wind was sucked out of Philza as the arms of his missing son wrapped around his waist, nuzzling into his side. So rarely had “Tommy” worn the skin of Tommy after the deceit was revealed that Philza had forgotten how potent it was. The plaintive cries mewling out of his not-son-never-my-son’s throat pierced his heart as the demon manipulated the soul of the bereaved parent. With a shaking gasp Philza remembered to breathe. “Tommy, I said no.” 

“But I’m really, really scared, and if I was allowed to rend you limb from limb it would make me feel much safer.” 

“Unfortunately, sometimes we have to be brave and kind even when we’re terrified. It becomes easier the more you try.” When Philza carded his hands through the golden hair of the thing pretending to be his son, it didn’t destroy him like it used to. Quiet was the terror so palpable he once choked on it, the grief so soul wrenching he thought he should break down weeping. He’d spent so long surviving that the revulsion no longer registered. Now, it was simply a necessity. 

The boy in his arms unraveled with a growl, the giant demon towering over him once more. “Tommy’s” fangs snapped close around Philza, ripping into his shirt and dragging him upward like a kitten caught by its scruff. “Tommy” prowled away from the home, roaming over pasture and shying away when a hoard of “Technoblade’s” undead warriors surged out in waves of phantasmal forces to rebuke him for almost trampling the crops. “Tommy’s” growl reverberated Philza’s bones, narrowly avoiding dropping the dangling human and causing him to splatter on the ground far below. 

Eventually, Philza was dropped a nearly safe amount. Groaning, he peeled himself off the grass. Having grown comfortable with the demon, who hardly ate any of them ever, the cows didn’t even look up from grazing. Well, save for a young calf, who blinked with languid eyes and trotted up to Philza, nudging him for treats. “Tommy” dithered, pacing in a fashion that left scorch marks across the ground. He scowled at the calf and shoved it carelessly away from Philza. “--and, and you promise you won’t get rid of me. Right dad?” 

“I could never.” What type of power did “Tommy” imagine he had? The beast butted his horned head against Philza, and he stroked “Tommy’s” muzzle as scarlet slit eyes narrowed upon him. He’s never seen the demon so cagey, but his assurances seem to soothe his bristling spines. 

“Tommy” sighed as he was scratched behind the ears, and came to a resolve. Before he could react, a nova built in his maw, plasma crackling fiercely into blinding radiance. His jaw unhinged into bristling flames, and “Tommy” breathed out pure hellfire in an all consuming column, smiting the calf. Philza sighed. Sure. Why not. “Did you drag me out here just to barbecue a cow?”

“You said you wouldn’t get-!”

And then Philza saw the charred husk of the calf. Or rather, the lack of it. Because sitting in a pile of charred grass was Tommy. He crawled away to fresh vegetation, and continued happily munching grass. 

Philza whipped around to the demon. “You turned my son into a COW?!” 

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T GET MAD!”

“What if I sold him? Or ate him???”

The demon paused. “...I didn’t think about that…” 

Tommy was incredibly disorientated as Philza helped him to his feet. He didn’t stop chewing the grass in his mouth. “Oh hey Dad, I had the weirdest dream…” the rest of his sentence was muffled by Philza wrapping him in a bone crushing hug. Philza sunk to his knees, clutching his child to his chest. He felt so, so cold, absent of the hellfire that coursed under the skin of the demon who wore his small body like a pretty mask. The real Tommy. His Tommy. He cradled the boy’s face reverently, soaking it in. 

“Huh?” Tommy blinked at him as Philza began to cry. “What’s wrong dad?” 

“Nothing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “Nothing at all.”

And then Tommy was ripped from his arms, “Tommy” snarling at him. “You said you wouldn’t replace me. You SAID–” The demon was cut off as Philza gathered him in a tight embrace. “Tommy” went utterly still, but Philza didn’t let go even as his skin began to burn, thanking the demon for returning his son. At his words, “Tommy” began to tremble. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really, sorry, I should’ve given Tommy back weeks ago. I thought– I thought you’d get rid of me once you had him.” He sounded guilty for his doubt, despite the fact that had been Philza’s plan for months. 

“Of course not. My heart is big enough for the both of you.” He held the both of them close. 

Tommy squirmed, not entirely sure what was happening. “Uh that’s nice Dad. Can I go back to eating grass now?” 

“Tommy” brightened. “Yeah! Now that you know you can stop worrying about him! He was really happy as a cow, I promise.”

“NO!” It snapped out harsher than Philza intended, and his stomach flipped. He couldn’t ruin this now that he had his real son back. In fact, it would only become harder now that he had to protect a vulnerable child incapable of matching the monsters wit for wit. A deep breath. Okay. “It’s not nice to turn people into animals, okay?” Tommy was at once enticed, demanding to know if the demon could turn the baker into an ugly toad. The pair’s mischievous smile matched perfectly, and Philza winced. “And, now that Tommy is back, I don’t want the two of you to get mixed up. It will be a lot easier if you pick a different name and form. We talked about indoor forms, remember? Like the cat? You make a very formidable cat, I think-”

“Nah,” Tommy dismissed. He stuck his tongue out, and “Tommy” matched it with a forked one. “I think I can work with this.” An evil grin spread over both Tommy’s faces.

Next>

[inmyownlaine]

John Murphy x Reader: Enemies to Lovers Trope

Warnings: Weapons, threatening death

Word Count: 2075

Part: 1

Summary: After taking cover in the underground bunker, you find yourself trapped with your sworn enemy. As time trails on, you realize the two of you will have to stay there till the coast is clear. The worst part? There’s only ONE bed 😮🤯

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He hated you. More than anything or anyone. In fact, if he were given the option to be pushed off a cliff or spend time with you, he would jump on his own accord and do a backflip on the way down.

And you couldn’t stand to be around him. You would rather spend your time eating soggy bread, walking in wet socks, or ripping band-aids off your bare skin. Anything was better, more preferable, than seeing his face.

If the two of you weren’t spitting insults at each other with vitriol and pure malice, you were physically harming one another. There was nothing amiable about the shoulder check he delivered on a daily basis. Likewise, your perfectly placed foot was not in jest. Especially when he would trip over it and go tumbling to the ground.

It got to the point where you couldn’t walk alone. He would grab you by the arm and slam you against walls, knife to throat, as he chuckled menacingly in your ear. “You know how easy it would be for me to kill you?” he would always ask.

And he couldn’t sit with his back to you, or else he’d find the barrel of a gun nudging his temple, and you with an itchy trigger finger. You’d deliver a smug little smile, pushing it further and further into his head. “And just like that, all my problems would suddenly go away,” you would always comment.

Yet, neither of you actually did anything. It was the sheer adrenaline, the barbaric action, the thrill of it all, that led you to behave so irresponsibly. The bruises and cuts and words would not stand in your way. No amount of concerned teenagers or useless pep talks would interfere. Nothing.

Being this wicked was a lonely road. You felt like a great white approaching a school of herrings. Wherever you went, there was an immediate scatter. Active avoidance upon sight was recommended. But you were the best shot, bar none. It was the only reason anyone allowed you to have a gun.

Or tag along on their excursions.

In front of them, of course. So everyone could clearly see exactly what you were doing. The wave of terror you caused was oddly devine. You didn’t live to torture others, or to be feared by the masses, but it was such a wonderful feeling to have some sense of power. So you sashayed with pride, lips puckered in a confident pout, leading them steadfast through the unknown forest.

The chatter behind didn’t phase you in the slightest. They were probably gossiping about their childish crushes or bantering with inside jokes. Neither of which concerned you or piqued interest.

That’s when the most grating, most vexatious voice muttered in a not-so-low tone, “Such an easy target.”

There was no hesitation. The gun was already in your hands as you spun around, aiming it directly at him. Everyone gasped, ducking for cover.

Except for him. He encroached your perimeter, arms tightly crossed against his chest, practically begging to be sprayed with bullets. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That’s cute.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you warned him.

“Or what?”

You sneered. “I’ll finally grant you your wish. A chance to see your father again.”

He laughed aloud, minimizing the distance with every arrogant step he took. With a final act of provocation, he willingly placed his forehead on the muzzle. With both his hands in the air, mocking surrender, he glowered at you through slacked eyelids. “Then do it.”

A foghorn rang out across the woods. You removed the gun from his head and pointed it into the trees. An outbreak of panic coursed through the unit as they frantically asked what to do. Some didn’t wait for a response.

Half of the unit bolted towards the dropship. The other half formed a circle, guns outwards and ready for open fire. It became clear that you weren’t going to be battling someone, but rather, something.

It started as a mist in the faraway trees, consuming the trunks with thick smoke. Then it started to grow in every way, wider and higher, before all that seemed to lay before you was a rain cloud. One that made your skin itch, made your throat close. It was then you knew you had only a single option.

“Run!” you screamed, taking off after the others.

He was right beside you, matching step for step. It had been a while since death brushed your lips, leaving a poisonous sting, invigorating your will to survive. So much so, that the idea of tripping him (for old times sake!), tickled at your brain.

“What is that?” he yelled out, elbow covering his nose and mouth. He didn’t offer any indication, but you saw it, too. A silver wheel was bolted atop a thick metal hatch. You didn't have time to wonder about the specifics. Nor did you have the time to grimace when your hands accidentally touched; first when spinning the wheel, and second upon opening the hatch, revealing a ladder into dark descent.

“Go!” he urged you. You didn’t think twice, stepping onto the ladder and hurrying down, rung by rung. The hatch slammed shut, followed by labored grunts as he tightened it back to its original state and then some. With the abrupt overtake of darkness and the narrow pathway, you felt extremely claustrophobic.

He continued down the ladder as you froze, catching up to you in a matter of mere seconds. He stomped haphazardly, boots barely missing the tips of your fingers.

“Don’t step on me,” you warned him.

“I’ll do what I want.”

Knowing full well that he would love nothing more than to squish you beneath his weight, you pressed on till your foot met the dirt floor. It was pitch black as you fumbled around in the darkness, feeling around for any type of lantern, flashlight, or match box. He trampled behind you, presumably following suit.

“What could be worse than this?” he mumbled.

“Um, what?” you scoffed.

“Wasn’t for you to hear.”

“Cool. So you wanna climb back up the ladder and take your chances out there?” For the first time ever, he didn’t have anything to say. You took that as a victory, further twisting the knife. “That’s what I thought. Shut up.”

Ten minutes had passed and no progress was made. From what you felt, however, you could tell there was a wooden desk with a chair, a broken lamp and a dining table set. Whoever created this doomsday bunker obviously made it to be their home. You couldn’t imagine living your entire life underground, fearful of the dangers above. You stopped short when you realized you had done the exact opposite; lived your life above, fearful of the dangers below.

“This is no use,” you finally said.

“You really didn’t find anything?” his voice spouted back.

“And you did?”

There was a loud plop, followed by numerous rustles and the quiet zing of a zipper. It dawned on you that he was digging around in his backpack and the insides of your stomach burned. If you had been searching for a light this entire time, and he willingly allowed you to make an ass of yourself, it was over for him.

“I swear, if you pull out a flashlight-”

But his face illuminated with the glow of an LED light, revealing his arrogant expression. “What?”

You couldn’t even begin to convey how livid you were. Your fingers balled up into tight fists, and you had half a mind to swing on him. He pointed the light in your direction, blinding you before chuckling.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” With that he pressed on, exploring the rest that this space had to offer. You didn’t want to figure out anything more. All you wanted was the fog to pass so you could leave this hellhole.

However, you didn’t know how long that would take. Hours? Days? The thought of being with him that long made your head ache. So instead, you flopped back on the hard mattress, staring up at the low ceiling.

“What are you doing?” he questioned.

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like,” he started, “you think you’re taking the bed tonight.”

“Not really a thought. I’m here and I’m on it,” you said.

“Comfortable, are you? Not worried I’ll kill you in your sleep?” he asked.

You simply shrugged. “Who says I won’t get you first?”

The banter had gone on long enough. His face flushed as he approached you, looming over your body with his disturbing presence. You tried to act like you weren’t scared. Yet the thought of him actually hurting you wouldn’t escape your mind. If he really wanted to end it all tonight, he could.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” he informed you.

“Well neither am I.”

“Don’t make me do this.” You gritted your teeth. Your gun was too far away from you. This would have to be a grappling game, one that you would surely lose. Especially if he kept his knife tucked into his pocket.

“If you’re not going to sleep on the floor, and I’m not going to sleep on the floor-” He stopped abruptly and just looked at you. You looked back, not understanding what he meant.

“Scoot over,” he finally said.

“Ew, no!” you exclaimed.

“Do you have a better idea?” he snapped. “You want to kill each other over a sleeping spot or you want to make it out tomorrow?”

The answer was obvious. You huffed and wriggled to the far end of the bed, nose brushing the metal wall in an effort to distance yourself as much as possible. With your arms crossed and eyes clamped, you imagined this wasn’t happening as you felt his side sag under his weight. He repositioned himself multiple times, frustrating you further, but finally made a decision and laid down quietly.

What would they say? What would you tell them? This was beyond humiliating, it was mortifying. To be laid up next to a person you openly abhorred was not good for your reputation. You had to make sure he knew the boundary and that it would never be crossed.

“You tell no one.”

“I’d say the same thing,” he replied, “but you don’t have any friends to tell.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.”

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

You awoke to a void. It took a second to remember where you were, rubbing your eyes furiously to try to adjust. There was a foghorn, some eerie clouds, an abandoned bunker- oh!- and your absolute worst nightmare sleeping beside you. It all came rushing back and you found yourself grimacing, hoping that you would be able to leave soon.

You pulled the blanket closer to your chin, itchy wool scratching the bare skin on your arms. That had always been your least favorite texture, which was a great parallel to the current situation, where you were trapped with your least favorite person. Of course, every single item and event and circumstance had to be undesirable.

The knotted threads at the end of the blanket were tangled, so you took it upon yourself to separate them out. All the while you reflected, yet again, on your predicament. Your fingers worked tediously, preferring to sort out these problems than address your own.

With one knot being completely relenting, you found yourself thinking how it wasn’t this tangled when you fell asleep. In fact, you didn’t recall having a blanket at all…

Your eyes widened as you slowly rolled over, just enough so you could look over your shoulder. It was too dark to see. Your hand reached to Murphy’s side, touching him lightly. You felt the same scratchy wool instead of his leather jacket. It became apparent that his back was to you, but closer than it previously was. And the blanket you despised so much was covering you both.

You didn’t know what this meant. No one had ever been kind to you before. You weren’t the least bit surprised. All you caused was chaos and misery. No one owed you anything. Murphy, least of all. Yet he took care of you, tended to a single want instead of treating you like a monster. Like you were nothing less than human.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the shadows. He didn’t respond. And for once, you found yourself wishing that he would.

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MAJOR shout for the TikTok, I saw it and couldn’t stop thinking about it. Created by the100babe, captioned: read flags looking green. Can’t disagree 🥴🥵

Xx Lainey

[xatsperesso]

I have read a funny fic (not finished, sadly) where Kalego's wicked phase was him being VERY VERY OVERPROTECTIVE. He was keeping his student in the royal one and didn't le them go away from his watch, or anyone else enter, even Balam XD (and the staff decide to call Narnia for help)

And now i imagine a wicked phase like that : he would lock up himself and the misfits in the royal class and would let anyone get in or get out. NOBODY. He would keep his student under his watch because he refuse to let them being hurt. So keeping them under his watch is the best way.

He would see any other adult as threats for his students, even Balam. He would attack Opera as soon he see him because HE sees him as a threat, even if not for the students. He would attack even Sullivan if he tried to get Iruma back.

Because this child get hurt so easely!! He MUST keep him SAFE.

Dadlego mode "over 9000"

In the fic, he even kidnapp Buer, catching him by a window when he sees him passing by, because one of the students is hurt (so need a healer). and he let not him go away neither. And i think that this idea is hilarous.

Now it's my headcanon! WP!Kalego is VERY protective, so much that he's a threat of everyone except his students XD

So now imagine WP!Dantalion and WP!Kalego happening in the same time.

FUCK no one will be able to leave the school. That's it, this is their lives now. They need to adapt to living in the school until both of the teachers are out of their wicked phases XD

But can you imagine how confused and scared the misfits were the first time kalego locked them in the royal class?

Cause i imagine it like kalego locks them up and then stares at them to be able to respond the second someone needs help

But all the kids see is there stern teacher acting weird, locking them up for some reason, and then proceeds to glare at them in silence (cause he's alert in case someone tries breaking in, but the kiddos dont know)

And i guarantee you every one of them will remember every mistake they ever made, unsure which one made their teacher act like this and fear for their lives.

And to make matters worse and scarier to the kids, they keep seeing teachers trying and failing to get into royal one and the kids just don't understand what's going on???

But the big question is, will the two demons in their wicked phase fight, or will they join forces to keep their students safe

You see, on one hand demons are territorial, and each teacher will see the other as encroaching on their territory. Kalego is refusing to let dali see his treasure. Dantalion, a demon in his wicked phase, is a threat to kalego's students. A fight will surely ensue

And the fact that kalego is standing up to Dantalion, his senior, must annoy dali quite a bit.

But they could see it another way. Maybe Dantalion will let kalego, a part of his treasure, do what he wants. If he fought him, kalego might get hurt. And it seems like it's healthy to let demons in the wicked phase act on their desires, so dali will just let him feel safe with the students, and it's not like dali can't go in there if he wants.

Or maybe they find common ground to stand on. Kalego allows dali to see the students as long as dali doesn't get too close, and dali stops anyone from trying to stop kalego or take the stupid home. After all, they're way safer in the school, so what's wrong with having them in the school for a few days?

[eeclare]

I was at the beach today so here are some bobs burgers beach headcanons

Bob applies LAYERS of sunscreen to himself

It’s pretty gross looking, actually

To the point where even Linda is like “yikes” 😬

It’s fine though because at some point (always sooner than later) Louise WILL dump a pail of water in him

She says it’s for the prank but irl she just thinks that her dad slathered in sunscreen in public is of the utmost embarrassment

Gene and Tina wholeheartedly agree

Gene isn’t allowed to bring his keyboard to the beach anymore

There was an incident

But the family doesn’t talk about it so just drop it, okay?

So yeah

He brings a little radio instead

And Gene just plays the most unhinged shit

Drives Louise crazy (so she says)

Honestly, it bothers Tina even more bcs it makes her senses go brrrrrr in a bad way

she does NOT vibe with the gummy bear song

Gene wears a swim shirt/rash guard

And despite the fact that she hates it, Louise's swimsuit has one of those cute ruffled skirts attached to it

She's tried to cut it off but Linda ALWAYS sews it back on again

Linda brings wine coolers disguised inside her travel thermos (stanley knock off??)

But she has extras in the cooler

Obvi bobby brings his portable grill

his burger of the day is the "Beach Burger"

Just a reg burg except he arranges the sesame seeds into a sand dollar pattern

well, an attempted sand dollar pattern

tbh he gets through one burger bun and gives up

To make up for it he attempted to add fish sauce to the burger meat, but it's okay bcs Gene spit it at him and he got the message

Bob also wears a rash guard btw

Linda is a bikini lady; always red, always high waisted

Tina just sticks with the sexy one piece with the wonky stripe

Louise will always invite her friends along

and they always end up coming, much to bob's chagrin

Andy and Ollie let her bury them up to their necks in sand

Rudy (who not only wears a rash guard, but it's a long sleeved rash guard) just watches from a distance

He really does not like it when any parent gets him in trouble, let alone bob

Gene tans, he loves it

It's a lifestyle, not a skin colour

Linda is right behind him on that one

Tina spends most of her time collecting shells and cool rocks she finds

One time she found a heart-shaped stone and gave it to Jimmy jr

but he thought she was handing him a skipping stone so he chucked it right back into the water

(Zeke spent the rest of the day trying to find it, but it was gone forever)

Louise loves skipping rocks

but literally only because it means that she can throw rocks at people on purpose and say that she's just practicing

Bob ends up with wicked tan lines

Every time he takes off his shirt, for weeks afterwards Louise screams bloody murder

Louise can't really swim

she can pull off a mean doggy paddle but quite frankly she doesn't like getting her ears wet

Tina is the strongest swimmer of all of them

but even still, she mostly just sinks

Gene just floats

The kids are pretty sure they have never seen bob get in the water

Something that he denies, even though it's true

He can swim

He just chooses not to

Linda doesn't get in the water much anymore but she used to be an avid swimmer

She briefly got back into it during her syncro phase but after she embarrassed herself and her kids so it didn't last too long

but she does like to go to some sort of community centre pool sometimes just to swim a couple laps

Anyway

when Linda's at the beach she, like Gene, spends most of her time tanning

where else do you think he got it from?

The only difference is that she makes Gene put at least a little sunblock on

While Linda herself does not put any on at all and gets horrifically burned

BUT its okay! Her skin eventually peels off into a nice, dark tan

bob is terrified of her getting skin cancer, and honestly, its a valid concern

One Linda brushes off, naturally

Tina and Louise LOVE the feeling of the hot sand on their feet

Louise loves the beach because she can comfortably go shoeless

Gene, however, wears his red sneakers

just without socks

stinky boy

Bob also wears a sunhat btw

It's linda's, but as if she uses it lolol

It makes him look classy

Louise WILL clown him for it tho

[naehja]

The Teachers Familiars

I tried to guess what were the familiars of the others teachers, since we have seen only Balam's familiar (and Cerberus but he's not a familiar).

So i used Demonology to help me

Ifrit

I think he's in the same situation that Kalego, his "spirit" of fire is the manifestation of his magic and he can't have a familiar because of it.

But if he HAD a Familiar, it would probably be a phoenix, since Ifrit fire is stated to be the most pure of all fires.

Dantalion

He's apparently a demon who can make a lot of different forms. but no mentions of a animal with him.

I could see him having a DRAGON, since he sees his students like a tresor that he must protect.

(and i joked with other persons about him turning SUPER overprotective in his wicked phase)

Suzy

"""Stolas is a Great Prince of Jinnestan, commands twenty-six legions of demons, and teaches astronomy and the knowledge of poisonous plants, herbs and precious stones. He is depicted as either being a crowned owl with long legs, a raven, or a man."""

So maybe a Raven?

Or there are nothing to see with the demonology (where Stolas is a man XD) and she has a plant monster? A animal/magical creature who has a tie with nature?

Marbas

""In demonology, Marbas or Barbas is a demon described in the Ars Goetia. He is described as the Great President of Hell governing thirty-six legions of demons. He answers truly on hidden or secret things, causes and heals diseases, gives wisdom and knowledge in mechanical arts, and can change men into other shapes. He is depicted as a great lion that, under the conjurer's request, changes shape into a man.""

**mechanical arts** yeah right XD

No mention of any animals in his desciption; except the form that he can take when he's summoned by human (who is commun to a lot of demons, yeah a lot seems to take a lion form) :/  (so if Iruma had summoned him, he would have been a adorable little lion? XD)

I had one time joked that Marbas could have a cute (but super dangerous) familiar to contrast with his **fanboy of torture tools** side.

Robin

in demonology, the demon Barbatos is associated to a bear.

So Robin could have demoniac bear or he could have a hawk or a eagle who are associated to good eyes (he's kinda a sniper with his bow).

Orias

""In demonology, Orias (also spelled Oriax) is a Great Marquis of Hell, and has thirty legions of demons under his command. He knows and teaches the virtues of the stars and the mansions of the planets.""

And also ""The Fifty-ninth Spirit is Oriax, or Orias. He is a Great Marquis, and appeareth in the Form of a Lion, 3 riding upon a Horse Mighty and Strong, with a Serpent's Tail; 4 and he holdeth in his Right Hand two Great Serpents hissing.""

So it's likely that Orias Familiar would be a horse with a serpent's tail. Maybe with wings too.

Badass, right?

Ipos

""In demonology, Ipos is an Earl and powerful Prince of Jinnestan (a Duke to some authors) who has thirty-six legions of demons under his command. He knows and can reveal all things, past, present and future (only the future to some authors, and past and future to others). He can make men witty and valiant. Some who have summoned Ipos have stated that he is the same entity as the Egyptian god Anubis. Anubis is said to be nearly ten feet tall and muscular with the head of a jackal. In this form he acts as a protector and guide for souls of the deceased.""

So his familiar could be a jackal, maybe? or maybe a Howl since this bird is associated by knowledge and strategy? or maybe mix of Jackal and owl?

Murmur

"""In demonology, Murmur is a Great Duke and Earl of Jinnestan, and has thirty legions of demons under his command. He teaches Philosophy, and can oblige the souls of the deceased to appear before the conjurer to answer every desired question.""" And ""Murmur is depicted as a soldier riding a Vulture or a Griffin, and wearing a ducal crown. ""

So his familiar may be a vulture or a griffin. i rather the griffin, it's more badass. XD

Buer

"""Buer is a spirit that appears in the 16th-century grimoire Pseudomonarchia Daemonum and its derivatives, where he is described as a Great President of Hell, having fifty legions of demons under his command. He appears when the Sun is in Sagittarius. Like Chiron, the chief centaur of Greek mythology, he teaches natural and moral philosophy, logic, and the qualities and uses of all herbs and plants, and is also capable of healing all infirmities (especially of humans) and bestows good familiars. He has been described as being in the shape of Sagittarius, which is as a centaur with a bow and arrows"

So his familiar could be a kind of horse/kind of centaur, or maybe a snake since it's a animal who is often associated to medicine.

Morax Family

"""in demonology, Morax is a Demon, Great Earl, and President of Hell, having thirty legions of demons under his command. He teaches Astronomy and all other liberal sciences, and gives good and wise familiars that know the virtues of all herbs and precious stones. He is depicted both as a man with the head of a bull, as well as a bull with the head of a man. It has been proposed that Morax is related to the Minotaur which Dante places in Hell"""

so we could guess that, in this family, the familiars are bulllike. Demoniac Bulls. Maybe the Grandpa has a kind of minotaur, while his grandaugther has a bull.

[chaotickasugaicrows]

Hello again. Been a bit busy these last few days and our good friend finally got his internet un-banned by the government so ended up a bit distracted.

Anyway, here's a sneak peak for a fic we're working on. It's an AU based on based on the animanga Marimashita! Iruma-kun (summary in pinned post). Some things to know: everyone is a demon except Zenitsu but they're not the canon type demons. Instead, they're more demons that live in a different dimension labeled hell. Also, demons have a feral state (aka wicked phase) that makes them super powerful but out of control (kinda like how Nezuko went a bit crazy in season 2). Training this state is advantageous if dangerous.

My Soul Is Yours

Damnit! Inosuke heaved as he felt his exhaustion weigh down on his aching body. Navigating the destroyed terrain made his legs sore, and protecting himself from the fierce attacks practically reduced his arms to mush. The taste of iron invaded his mouth. It spilled over and the blood made its way down his chin. Fuck. Before him was a terror that no beast could ever hope to replicate. Kamado in his wicked phase was not only a formidable opponent, but a deeply unsettling one.

Sharp pieces of scorched earth cut at his feet, broken weapons laid around him. Shit. The dust began to settle. A quiet ticking in his ear. Eager giggles emanated from his fellow demon. A grin split Tontaro’s face in half. Feral, unfocused eyes turned upward in delight. With flushed cheeks, his classmate reveled in the destruction he created. It was tough to reconcile the creature in front of him with the lovestruck idiot that followed Monitsu everywhere. Inosuke grit his teeth. His limbs screamed at him as he readied himself for another assault.

The fox demon gleefully prepared a torrent of fire. Inosuke tried to steady his breathing as much as he could. He’d gotten so used to his pack brother’s gentle and proper demeanor, he forgot what kinds of demons the Kamado bloodline were. His friend was from the line that governed ‘Virtue’ and ‘Destruction’. The fox lunged forward and disappeared from sight. However, it wasn’t hard to locate the killing intent that prickled his skin uncomfortably. By the time he turned around, he only barely managed to stop a flaming fist from coming in contact with his face. Inosuke let out a pained hiss as the fire burned his arms. He should have known better, should’ve known Kentaro’s wicked phase would turn out like this. Now this knowledge was seared into his mind as the flames had seared his skin. 

The ground rippled and cracked at the sheer force of the kitsune’s attack, pushing Inosuke slightly into the dirt. Everything began to dull. Despite the burns, he mustered up enough strength to knock the other demon away. Damn that ball ball old guy and his stupid fucking training! He was breathing hard, but he kept his glare on his opponent, cautious of any movement. He shifted a hand to his hakma, ready to pull a weapon at any moment. 

Shit. How long had it been since the session started? How much more would he have to endure before he could finally put a fucking end to this?! All it would take was one word, but that stupid tall ass teacher wouldn’t let him yet! And he would rather die in this dumb fight than give in! He let out an involuntary growl of annoyance. He swore he’d get Hideokojima back for this somehow! Just then, he noticed movement. Before he could blink, the kitsune had disappeared from his sight. Fuck. He better get his shit together or he really will die in this dumb fight.

He whipped a weapon from his pocket. Distantly he noted the wind biting at his new wound. A buyōkiseru. Inosuke tightened his grip. It would have to do. From behind him came the faint sound of shuffling. He pivoted and swung with all his strength. He struggled to remain steady afterward, but it was worth it. Konjoro stood a short distance away, a small scratch on his cheek being the only indication of Inosuke’s effort. 

Inosuke planned to attack while the other demon was shocked at being hurt, except, waves of growing agony put those plans on hold for the foreseeable future. Damn it! He dropped to his knees, no longer strong enough to keep himself standing. His chest burned with every breath. His vision began to blur, sound came crashing back in a sudden crescendoing cacophony. The rustling of clothes, gasping, blood dripping, heartbeat, manic laughter, even the ticking of a watch. 

Then, finally, the voice he’d been hoping to hear, for a fucking while, cut through it all. “NOW!” With a bloody grin on his face he took a deep breath, enduring the pain it caused, and shouted out that damn safeword. “ZENITSU!” 

Gonpachiro snapped out of his wicked phase mid lunge and flailed forward, eventually faceplanting just outside the circle of debris around Inosuke. Although he was glad his pack brother had returned to his regular self, he now knew why the Kamado name was always treated with fear and reverence, and that image would forever alter how he perceived the kitsune. Before he could utter another word, the world became a mess of unfocused colours.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Ace and Deuce special! Kind of… I guess lol Since our last post was about them. But there’re also some about AzuIde!

Anonymous asked:

Context of the latest post? :)

I think it’s pretty self-explanatory, Anon~ But I’ll let the second Anon answer your question:

Anonymous asked:

Hey Ace finally got laid!

The entire twst cast does the “omedetou” clap 😔👏👏👏 Congratulations, Ace!

Anonymous asked:

Not their faults that they share the same room, Riddle. XD Also, poor other two roommates. (Freshmen rooms have 4 roommates, 2nd year have two roommates, and 3rd year have their own rooms. Only Dorm leaders have their own rooms)

No-no, it’s entirely their fault, why would they even do something like this?! (Cue angry virgin noise)

And yeah, I honestly don’t know how their roommates survive this, but who knows, maybe they are out for some reason and ADeuce decided that they won’t get another chance like that and got a little bit too excited~

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any ace thoughts?? I have these like "twst character phases" where one character becomes my chew toy for a week and then gets discarded and ace is my latest victim 🤭🤭

I've kinda been thinking about pining!adeuce except deuce keeps fucking other people to cope and ace is insanely jealous and keeps avoiding him. Maybe he sleeps with one of their classmates (Jamil or epel maybe?? I like jamiace a lot) as a sort of "revenge"?? Which probably works after ace purposely doesn't hide the marks left from his "wicked plan" LMAO

Aftermath is they either fuck and become occasional fuck buddies making their pining worse or they avoid each other and make things worse (either way everyone is getting a headache from these two)

Ace is a nice chew toy, Anon, good choice! We have a similar situation, even though there are characters that are always our faves, right now we’re going through the first book again, so we’ve been kind of rediscovering Ace and Deuce lol

Ace and Jamil are a fun combo (poor Jamil just has to suffer because of his basketball club boys lol), but I honestly don’t know if Jamil would be up for something like that. Maybe he has his reasons though, it all depends on a scenario I guess.

Deuce feeling jealous despite knowing darn well that Ace is purposefully trying to make him jealous… god, how complicated things could be between them lol

I do like the idea of ADeuce being fuck buddies and not dating each other despite the fact that they’re super obviously are into each other and want to be together though; there are some nice doujins about Ace going through a crisis because he definitely wants to keep sleeping with Deuce, but just can’t help but cling to the “we’re just friends” thing, hurting Deuce very deeply. Wow this sounds more tragic that I thought lol but it doesn’t has to be: these idiots are hilarious, and watching them trying to figure shit out, fight, make out and fight again, and then have sex and stop talking to each other and then fight again is peak comedy. And also super headache inducing LOL

Anonymous asked:

Okay someone has to say it, next to Jack Deuce looks like a fucking stick. To be fair, you could be the buffest guy around and look like a stick next to Jack, he’s just THAT beefy

Yeah, Jack is hella big, so he has this aura that makes everyone shrink when they’re near him lol But I’m also prone to exaggerations when it comes to size difference. I love it too much

Anonymous asked:

i was the beach anon..also the dead dove anon from awhile ago, i’d love to discuss the beach scene potential in dms of that’d be ok

Oh hi Anon! :)

Sure, but only if you’re okay with me super slow (I mean it) with my replies. I absolutely hate making people wait and giving lackluster replies, but I also don’t have a lot of time and energy apart from drawing, which makes me a terrible person for chatting…

Anonymous asked:

Hello hi hello I am one simple man who enjoys AzuIdi very much- may your brain always be full of ideas and your hands be capable of completing all your missions

Thank you so much, Anon, it means a lot <3 God how much I want to complete all my missions. There must be more Azul/Idia in the world, and I’m happy to know that there are people who are excited to see them.

Anonymous asked:

So I was looking into your Azuide marriage AU and I find it very interesting so I was wondering if say Idia cheated on Azul for some mysterious unknown reason...what would Azul do??

Ohh thank you for your interest, Anon! I’m glad you like it :)

It honestly depends on the circumstances, but it would still be bad. Azul’s first instinct would be to learn anything he could about that person and how they know Idia. He would talk to Idia about it himself, but even if Idia just tells him everything as it is, Azul needs his own independent research to check if Idia is lying to him or not. Yes he is THAT petty lol

Azul is very bad at forgiving people, and cheating on him is one of the biggest betrayals a person could present him with. Of course, their marriage isn’t a romantic one, but it doesn’t change Azul’s feelings, and he’d be very hurt.

You’ve seen the “bad ending” scenario and probably have read my replies about it; although it’s kind of vague, but this is the reaction I’m picturing, to be honest. Maybe not as drastic, but he’ll also stop giving Idia any kind of privacy: either Jade or Floyd is going to be around him at all times, looking at his monitors, watching what he’s doing, who he’s talking to. Just to make sure that he isn’t doing anything stupid~

Oh, and Azul’s also going to scare that other person away or even ruin their life. Easily.

But there are also some exceptions that would make Azul begrudgingly look the other way. If Idia was to have an affair with Lilia or Ortho, Azul is going to just swallow his pride and try to act calm. But he’d still be super hurt and probably punish Idia in some other way.

[mia-oscarwilde]

Couldn't work as a team like others. No no satisfaction

It's true that the juniors had a big role in upsetting Goemon but the immediate trigger for his wicked phase is murmur Sensei. He asked their team to drop out as they can't fight as a team with a pair of annoying brats as kouhais. But it hurt Goemon's pride. He too wanted to fight the teachers like the others did. He too wanted to work with his kouhais. That wasn't possible 🥺

Goemon takes school activities very seriously. He is always trying his best

During the harvest festival, I know nothing except this

He's the real hero of the harvest festival ❤️

He's the one who rushed towards soi soi first in an attempt to make him participate. Maybe his parents are strict or maybe he is strict on himself. It's not fair he got such kouhais when everyone else got along well in such short time.

[fox-pr1nce]

what games do you think andrew, ashley, and alice would like playing (in canon time and modern/present time)? would they try to take advantage of their Gamer Abilities™ and stream it to make money? would they stream in general?

... if they did would you watch? :3c

-- coff-in

In canon time:

 Andrew: I’m not sure if Andrew is a video game guy tbh. But if Ashley and/or Alice ask him to play with them, he’ll do it. He’ll criticize the writing and plots of the rpgs Alice likes when he watches them play.

Ashley: She enjoys video games, but I can’t think of any specific ones she likes. She’s very happy to join Alice on the couch though when they invite her to hang out with them, and often just invites herself onto the couch. Alice, of course, doesn’t mind in the slightest.

Alice: Def the biggest video game nerd of the trio. Legend of Zelda, Pokémon, half-life, Diablo, and Castlevania are their big faves. They also love playing any multiplayer game with their siblings

In modern time:

Andrew: I actually think Andrew would like Stardew Valley. For once he can relax and feel in control. By that line of thought, I think he’d also enjoy the sims 4. He’d vehemently deny that the sims he made are based on his younger sibs, why would he do that? We all know the truth, Andy.

Ashley: One game that kind of comes to mind is Agatha Knife. I think she’d like any horror game with a cute aesthetic. Ashley and Alice having a Danganronpa phase is a cursed but also fun thought to me

Alice: They’d still love all the video games I mentioned in canon time, but as for other modern games, Alice would also love the sims 4! They’d make their ideal house and make them and their big sibs, maybe even give their household a little kitty like they’ve always wanted irl. And um. Download the wicked whims mod for… things. They’d definitely make Julia and kill her in as many ways as possible :)

I could see Alice being a streamer, but it’d purely be to make money. They’d have a super cutesy vtuber avatar and put on a fake voice to get attention from icky men online and make money that way. Sort of like Needy Streamer Overload (take this comparison with a grain of salt i only watched RTgame’s playthrough like once a long time ago) Alice would completely separate their private life from their online persona, with the exception of maybe a tumblr blog. But even then, that blog is kept completely separate from their vtubing, and they wouldn’t post often or post their siblings’ faces.

I can see Ashley doing something similar to Alice, but would probably lean way more into nsfw stuff. Andrew disapproves of both their methods, and tries to shut it down the second he catches wind of either of his younger sibs doing nsfw stuff online.

I can’t really see Andrew being a streamer, tbh. He just doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes having a lot of attention on him. Granted, neither does Alice, but that’s why they’d have that alter ego thing going.

If any of them had a stream tho, I’d def watch lol

Thank you for the ask, coff-in! I wish you a wonderful day ^-^

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

been thinking of mairimashita iruma kun a bit lately in part because of the new anime season airing & i feel like from a meta point the demon world is so interesting bc it’s supposed to be like. iruma’s wish fulfillment. he’s lived his whole life being abused & ignored by parents who have continuously left him to fend for himself, only to get adopted (his parents sold him) by a demon who genuinely just wants the opportunity to be a doting grandfather & shower him with gifts. obviously bad stuff happens in the demon world like we’re told several times kindness doesn’t come naturally to them, when someone’s in danger it’s unthinkable a stranger would jump in to save them, and there’s the whole “wicked phase phase” thing people go through when stressed but like

textually, it is supposed to be a better world, at least for iruma. and i think because of that the mangaka is trying to like, make it a world without human biases. like clara is absolutely bullied for being neurodivergent, but that’s only before she meets iruma, in the overall world of iruma-kun, she’s awesome, because she’s autistic & she’s immature, and that’s exactly why she’s one of his main love interests. when keroli talks about another idol having a crush on her, she says it’s not a big deal, because demons don’t really care about gender when it comes to love. so all of this means its probably super normal about iruma crossdressing, right?

except its like. it is, sometimes? iruma dresses up as an idol to help keroli (twice, actually) and it’s just like. well that’s super reasonable. that’s just what a good friend would do. and an even better friend would put on a miniskirt and help their idol friend woo her gf. except there’s also that scene where iruma’s learning that spell to change his clothes, and alikred switches it to a frilly dress (or maybe iruma does it by accident? not entirely relevant to my point) and there’s an omake joke about amelie finding him and responding in shock, but part of the joke is she has a crush on iruma, so she finds him cute in anything! & recently in the anime keroli demanded he & lied dress up & sing for her in idol outfits & because of how serious & threatening she looks, it feels kinda like blackmail, but wait! according to the narration, keroli’s just near her wicked phase, and she needs to see her favorite thing (idols) to calm down! but it’s like... it still feels kind of weird, right? like these jokes aren’t really unexpected in a shounen anime, but considering that other stuff i said, and with the amount of time iruma spends dressed up, you’d think they’d act, idk... a bit nicer?

[b-bing]

hey why did you name some of the characters the way u did (gimme that IANVS, REDR, Knockx2 It's Nixilei,--GIMME GIMME GIMME ANYONE (PEOPLE) YOU CAN MANAGE GIMME)

I DIDN'T MEAN ME U BITCH

No but lmao I'll answer thank u for asking bestie <3

IANVS

Sebastian "Seebs" Stein: My very first thought was that "Seebs would be a funny nickname for a guy named Sebastian." Originally Seebs' full name was Sebastian Stan, but uh.... the reason that sounded so good to me was because that's the name of a real actor LMAO. His last name changed to Stein because it sounds science-y.

Annette I. Forget: HMMMM this was a case of just saying nice sounds off the top of my head. Just has a nice flow and rhyme to it!

The Overseer: The Overseer was originally named just Gray (see below). Later I wanted him to have a title that sounded very managerial because he's in charge of the adventuring group, so I looked it up in the thesaurus and decided on Overseer. It ended up being a nice little surprise to find out that the word "oversight" is a contranym, otherwise known as a Janus word :3

(Bonus) Gray Alegra: I wanted to think of a name that doubled as a color between black and white, so I came up with Gray, Ash, and Silver as options and settled on Gray. It was important he was "gray" because he's supposed to be the guy in between the gods and humans. He only gained an association with the god Mercury at a later point. In hindsight, it probably would have been funny to name him Silver instead, to have that association with quicksilver/mercury. As for Alegra, I just thought it sounded nice next to his first name, but I do like that it's the Spanish word for "glad," essentially making his name mean "sad happy."

Ivan Vanderville: Another case of just coming up with nice sounds. Originally his last name was Vendorville tho, because he's a vendor.

Kaminari: In high school I drew a random picture of a girl and my friend saw it and named her Kaminari. I fleshed her out and kept the name all this time.

Quark: Seebs' design was based on Junpei Tenmyouji of Zero Escape fame. Quark is named after the character of the same name in Virtue's Last Reward, a kid that Junpei took care of. I thought it sounded appropriately cute/silly/science-y that Seebs would want to name his cat like that lol

The Dark Lord Nefarious aka Neffy: I wanted to have a word that just sounded very evil but still had a nice sounding flow to it, like the Wicked Witch of the West or Maleficent. The thesaurus came to my rescue again and I decided on Nefarious. One of my friends ended up just casually calling them Neffy, so I thought that could stick as their nickname.

Juicifer: I think this started out with my sister and I joking about making a character called Juicy Wizard? And then that somehow turned to joking about the name Juicifer. The name came first, and then I later decided they would be the Hellhound that represented Heresy, the 6th circle of Hell where Lucifer is.

Daphodel Morali: This guy... has gone through so many name changes. Originally he was a girl named Medea Morali, and then I kept going through my options until I decided on Daphodel and kept the last name. He's named after asphodel and daffodils, two associated flowers where one represents death and the afterlife (as in the Fields of Asphodel), and the other represents rebirth and new beginnings. As he's the Hellhound of Limbo, combining them into one name gives the feeling of being between life and death. As for Morali, it sounds like "morals," and he's a virtuous guy, on account of Limbo being where the virtuous pagans end up.

All of Nefarious' Hellhounds have similar naming schemes in this manner, where they relate to the circle of Hell they're based on, with the exception of the Hellhound of Treachery.

REDR

Klaus aka Kusarigama aka Kama: When I was in my Osomatsu-san RP phase, we would give our Matsu muses nicknames, usually in Japanese, that differentiated them. Klaus originally started as Kusarigama, which is a ball-and-sickle weapon (his weapon of choice), but his name could be shortened to Kama, which was just a sickle. Him and his brother being named after weapons is something I decided to roll with, making their story something like "we were created only to be tools and destroy." In one AU I changed his name to Klaus, and recently I realized that fits him pretty well. The in-universe explanation is that he was originally named Kama, but after making friends with a human, she gave him and his brother new names.

Ridley aka Ryoutoutsukai aka Ryoutou: Ryoutoutsukai was the starting point for him, as the word means someone who dual-wields swords, I think? (And also it could mean bisexual) It was shortened to Ryoutou, which I think has an almost similar meaning. Same with Klaus, in one AU I gave him the name Ridley and decided to go back to that.

Sparky, Snippy, and Sunny: These three get lumped together because they had a similar process. Like Klaus and Ridley, they were Matsu muses who needed nicknames to differentiate them, but these were the OGs. One of my friends liked to talk about the different Karamatsus interacting, so they gave my Kara the nickname Sparky. I wanted to give the other two similar names, and I came up with Sunny pretty easily. For Snippy, I asked my friends for help but I just ended up choosing something I came up with and I think that probably made them exasperated with me LMAO

Knock, Knock, It's Nixilei

Nixilei: UGH their name is so cool but the explanation is kind of lame. I was playing Merge Magic and the game gives random names to your creatures. I had a fairy named Nixilei and I just wanted to use that because I thought it sounded like a cool vampire name.

Ephraim Santos Caballo: I wanted to give him a Spanish name that had origins in the Bible, so WHAT BETTER WAY to think of something like that than to name him after a guy I didn't even know in my conservative Christian high school. For his last names I looked up Spanish last names and just kept track of what sounded cool or heroic... In the end I decided on what I THINK translates to "holy knight" or holy horse as my mom tells me and I'm just really hoping this doesn't look super cringe to native Spanish speakers. But if it does look cringe, then I did it on purpose, because Ephraim is fucking cringe.

Buddy: I knew for sure I wanted a werewolf character, so... I looked up names that you would give to a dog LMAO. Recently my sister found out that Buddy was just a nickname and gave him the full name "Hershel Reese" because. She was eating chocolate at the time.

Extra

Rufus Dufresne: When I was a kid. Like. 5th grade-ish. I made these comics of a stickman named "Rufus the Doofus." Kept the name Rufus, and I wanted a last name that still sounded like the word doofus. In Red vs. Blue there's a character named Doc whose real name is Dufresne, so I used that lol

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Book I: Forging His Own Path: Ch37: Forgefire

Arcee bore Jack and June to the front of the Parliament, on the lowest terrace of the city. June climbed off, followed by Jack as Sirenia landed behind them, transforming at the last moment. Arcee stood there on two wheels, and everyone looked at her curiously.

"There something I need to show you." Arcee said, and transformed, except this time she was 10ft tall instead of 15ft. It was quite a shift, and everyone just watched her. She started to look about nervously. "Not going to say anything?" she said coyly, obviously fishing for a compliment.

"Well, of course you're beautiful." Jack said, staring in awe. "I'm just. How? Why?"

"The why is obvious." June said to him, "She wants to spend time with you."

"That just leaves the how?" Sirenia asked.

"The Mistress of Flame explained it to me. I was..." she said, and lovingly stared at Jack, "uncertain. She helped me." Arcee then turned back to Sirenia, "I can, of course, teach you."

They all walked into the parliament. She reached out to grab Jack's hand. It was a little awkward, but they were able to do it. The steps were much longer than Arcee was used to, and had trouble keeping up. She struggled more and more until she quickly grew to her usual 15ft. "Scrap." she stated. Jack gave her a look with loving concern, "I'm still getting used to it."

Jack reached up to slap her butt, "It means a lot to me."

Arcee nervously paused for a moment before replying, "Thank you."

* * *

Jack walked up to the podium, barely coming up half of it's height. Arcee thought about picking him up, but while she paused; Sirenia was already doing it. She held him in her arms so that he could look over at those around them. Each of the 9 elected representatives stood by their own lecturn, connected into a long desk. Behind them was a gallery completely filled. 10 deep, about 2/3 of a circle.

The Mistress of Flame walked out beside him, "I will do the introductions, we have Windblade from the Warrior Century." she said, and walked to the next, "Ridgehopper from the Naturalist Century." she added, to a femme with brown hues and black accents. She then stepped to the next, it was a a white femme with red accents, along with a white smock dress that likewise had red trim, "Whitehead from the Medical Century." She stepped up to the next, a to a blue and gold femme with a single-shoulder peplos of similar colours, "Tethys from the Hydrology Century." she said, and stepped to the next, a femme with equal measures of black and white, "Molana of the Energon Century." The Mistress of flame continued on, to a beige and grey femme, "Helia, from the Construction Century." She continued along, the next femme being pink and white, with an audatious dress of many colours, "Michaela of the Artisan Century." The Mistress of Flame stepped to the next lecturn, that had Amalthea, with Arcelia standing behind her, "Amalthea of the Archivist Century. She has asked Arcelia to aid her." The Mistress of Flame continued to the last, a green and red femme, "Apple Eye of the Agricultural Century." She stepped away from the others, continuing along in her circle, "And last but not least, I am the Mistress of Flame, from the priestesses of of the Way of Flame. It has been over a petacycle since our last Parliament, so, let us welcome our guests." she said, and stopped just to the left of Jack's podium. She gave him a warm smile.

Jack leaned into the microphone, "Hi, I'm Jack. I mean, Jack Darby. I'm from Earth."

The Mistress of Flame once again walked out, "Also known as Terra. And for the record, we need a more complete introduction." She looked Jack in the eyes and gave him a wicked smile, before it quickly turned into a more ordinary one, "The last phase of the Great War occured on his world. In reply, Cybertron recognized him as Warrior caste. So, he comes not just as a representative of his own world, but of our old home as well."

"Yeah, that's right." Jack said, and then turned to Arcee, "And this is Arcee. Also Warrior caste. A lot longer than I have been."

"Jack's my sparkmate." Arcee said, "But even more, he was absolutely essential to us winning the war. And this isn't just me blowing smoke up your tailpipe, among other things, he secured the Decepticon warship during the last phase of the war."

"Arcelia?" Amalthea asked.

Arcelia stepped up beside her, "I have confirmed this with from the records provided. Most of which were provided by either Optimus Prime, or his chief lieutenant on Terra, Ratchet. Cybertron was so thankful for his achievement, they gave him a significant sum of their currency. Enough to last his whole life."

"Is that why you came here?" Ridgehopper asked. "Looking for a life of leisure."

"We actually used the money to set up a business repairing motorcycles." Arcee interjected.

"And," Jack said, and looked up a Sirenia before looking back at Ridgehopper, "I'm here because Sirenia wanted to come back." Sirenia nervously looked about.

"So, you came to help her?" Molana asked.

"That's... yeah." Jack stated, "She also described it as incredibly beautiful. And she didn't do it justice. This world is a paradise. Whatever happens here, I will be forever thankful that I came along."

"And who's the other Human?" Michaela asked.

Jack looked at Arcee, "Could you?" Arcee kneeled down to pick June up. She stood up, letting everyone see her. "This is my mother, June Darby." Jack said.

"Hello." June said, and waved. "Your city is quite beautiful. I'm so glad I came."

The Mistress of Flame walked back to beside him, this time on his right side. "That should do with introductions. Now onto his petition."

"Well, to put it simply, I want to bring Human colonies here." he said, and the room instantly became silent, as if they had never even thought of such a thing.

The Mistress of Flame walked out again, "Perhaps elaboration is in order?"

"I expected there to be a lot of questions." Jack stated.

The Mistress of Flame looked out over the Centurions, none of whom seemed to have processed it enough to even ask questions. She then looked back at Jack, "Why do you want a colony here?" she asked.

"Well, it's beautiful, and breatheable." Jack said, he then looked at Arcee. He then looked at the Mistress of Flame as she walked off to his left. He then looked all of the Centurions in the eyes, "Since my sparkmate is a Cybertornian, I want a place where we can live together."

"And how do you propose this works?" the Mistress of Flame asked.

"5 colonies." Jack stated, "Each a city state. Each city state would get one seat on the Forgefire Parliament." This caused a pregnant pause as everyone thought it over.

"So?" Ridgehopper asked, "The rest of the world would be kept intact?"

"All decisions about the world would be made by the Forgefire Parliament." Jack said into the microphon.

"So?" Whitehead asked, "Any future expansion would have to be passed by the parliament?"

"Which we would have 2/3 of the votes on?" Helia asked.

"And between the cities?" Tethys asked.

"Humans typically have more rural areas. Often agricultural, or just for people who don't like the crowded cities."

"You would bring in invasive species?" Apple Eye asked.

"I recognize that this decision can't be made in a single day." Jack stated, "I will returning in about a year." he said, and paused, looking back at Sirenia,

"1.76 megacycles." Sirenia stated. "Depending upon how long the journey takes."

"If invasive species are a problem, then hanging gardens, contained growing environments are always possible." Jack stated. "They could then be built inside the cities."

"How do we know that these Humans would be law abiding?" Windblade asked.

"We don't." Jack simply stated, and she seemed to respect this, "Humans take up a LOT less space than Cybertronians. A city the size of Camimus could hold millions of Humans." Jack stated. "The only thing we can do is create a culture that respects the natural beauty. With this, I will need your help." The others seemed to be hanging on his words, "I will need Caminus itself to try and recruit these Humans. How you present the planet, and how you select those that will come, can completely change what shape the society takes. But, for food, we will need food grown locally, and that includes animals."

"Humans actually evolved as predators." Sirenia stated, "Humane treatment of animals goes back to their earliest writings."

"It does?" Jack asked her.

"Your Bible." Sirenia stated.

"Wait, what?" Jack asked.

"The Bible has many passages on the good treatment of animals, even those you use for food."

"They are asking us to let them kill animals?" Michaela asked.

"Like there's a single Cybertronian," Arcee stated, and everyone looked at her, "that would hesitate to destroy a scraplet?"

"Destroying pests is different to raising animals just to kill them." Michaela stated.

"Oh?" Arcee asked, "Megatron is better?" she asked.

"Did you just compare me to Megatron?!" Michaela asked.

The Mistress of Flame strongly tapped her staff onto the ground, "Perhaps less shouting?"

"I apologize." Michaela said to Arcee.

Arcee sighed, and caught Jack glaring at her. She turned towards Michaela "I'm sorry." Arcee said Michaela seemed to calm down. "Any animal that gets in his way, he will annihilate. Humans actually care about their animals. Even their food animals. Just because they are raising them for food doesn't condemn them."

"Humans have killed more animals with farmland then they have with animal husbandry." Sirenia stated.

"We what?" Jack asked.

Sirenia smiled at him before turning to the Centurions, "Agricultural land displaces local wildlife. This is called habitat destruction. Most animals can only survive in a single habitat. In reply, Humans created international organizations to come together to stop them from doing this. They chose stewardship of their world. That said, food animals do take large grasslands."

"You're expecting us to agree to this?" Michaela asked.

"I'm asking you to talk about it." Jack said into his microphone.

"He's not a tyrant," Arcee stated, "and he's not demanding anything. The only thing he is doing is asking nicely."

"And how would the Humans affect the the city itself?" Tethys asked.

"As much or as little as you want." Jack stated, "You could keep the Humans out of the city, you could accomodate them in the city, you could let them into the city without accomodating them."

"It's almost like?," the Mistress of Flame asked, "we have a say in the matter."

"I've been meaning to ask?" Arcee said, pointing at the others, "Aren't you one of the?.."

"The Centurion from the Way of Flame keeps order in the assembly, and fascilitate communication. I only vote if there's a tie."

Arcee looked betweeen the others, "But, there's nine?" Arcee asked.

"Like an abstention." Sirenia added.

The Mistress of Flame developed a wide smile and pointed at her. She then turned back to the assembly, "And remember, we don't have to take his word for it." She then turned to Jack and June, and then Sirenia and Arcee. She then turned back to the assembly, "We have two here willing to testify on their behalf."

"Scrap." Arcee voiced. She handed June to Sirenia, before turning to the others, "Alright, I'll give you the story. Or at least the parts that Jack is okay with."

* * *

Her tale complete, Arcee returned to beside Sirenia, who once again handed her June.

"Are you saying this Human was able to seize the bridge of the Decepticon warship?" Windblade asked.

"By himself?, no." Arcee stated, "He had Miko with him, and she's a Wrecker. A Human Wrecker."

"Weren't the Wreckers one of the most elite units during the War?" Windblade asked.

"Elite?" Arcee asked, "I'd say the most dangerous. They always attack deep behind enemy lines. They swing through like a wrecking ball. They have a saying, 'Wreckers don't call for backup, they call for cleanup.' They are very good at striking targets that no one else could. And they are very selective about who joins their ranks. Miko succeeded."

Arcelia the stepped up beside Amalthea, "The records show he had the respect of Optimus Prime." she stated, and Jack gave her a nervous look.

"Does he doubt it?" Ridgehopper asked.

"He's afraid of it." Arcelia stated, and stepped back.

"Uh?" Jack asked, "Yeah."

--------------------------

Ridgehopper: Motorbike

Whitehead: Motorbike

Tethys: Skidoo

Molana: Motorbike

Helia: Helicopter

Michaela: Motorbike

Apple Eye: Motorbike

[xatsperesso]

Don't mess with the teachers of Babyl

Another 'what if iruma got kidnapped'! But not as angsty as the last one

Hope you enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A student was taken

He was taken from right under their noses, by a teacher.

They’re going to regret this. They’re going to regret this oh so much.

–

Iruma was not having a good day.

His day started great, actually. He was taking an exam to see if he’s strong enough to protect those dear to him! And, admittedly, he wasn't that strong. He let Chima-chan’s heart get popped, but! That means he now needs to get stronger! And his team still hasn't failed! They’ve survived a grand total of 24 minutes against the teachers of Babyl!! That’s a feat!

And then he got kidnapped.

But Iruma’s gotta say that he’s impressed! The teachers are really determined to act their parts! For a minute their Iruma truly thought that Atori-sensei was dangerous… but! Grandpa has yet to intervene, so he must really like acting! And Iruma admires that!

He is upset to have been taken out, and he’s been so close. He must have let down Chima-chan and Vine-kun, getting taken out like that when they've worked so hard.

And now he’s waiting for Atori-sensei to take him to the drop-out tent. It’s kinda boring in this cocoon. He keeps hearing Atori-sensei speaking, but he can’t really understand a word. it's all muffled gibberish to him. It's kind of weird that Atori-sensei didn't just let him walk to the tent after popping Vine-kun’s heart. He also can't hear any other voices, not even Kalego-sensei. He’s sure Kalego-sensei would have scolded Atori-sensei for using excessive force like this. He looked so serious when fighting Atori-sensei!

Maybe Kalego-sensei is protecting them? So they haven’t lost yet? Yeah, maybe Atori-sensei thought to take him out first and then pop the heart, but couldn’t. They’re such amazing Kouhais! And he’s glad Kalego-sensei didn't just decide to pop their heart!

…those 6 minutes seem to have been dragging on for a while, though. He hopes Atori-sensei doesn't forget to let him out.

“You can’t go after him-”

“He’s taken one of our treasures-!”

“He’s taken my student, but if we attack now, we won't take down the ones behind this-”

“He took Iruma-sama-”

“We need to know who’s behind this so it doesn't happen again-”

They were fighting among themselves. Those who weren't were barely holding back Dali-kun from…they’re not really sure. Either murdering Atori, which they don't really mind that much, or murdering Kalego, which they very much do mind. None of them have what it takes to handle the abnormal class like Kalego does.

Balam-sensei looked at the Chairman. He’s surprised he was still standing here and didn't go off after Atori and Iruma. He looks… rigid. Shocked, and on the brink of committing genocide. He seems in no state to be the decision-maker right now. But, he is their chairman, and they can’t really take a decision without him. He needs to get the chairman out of this stupor.

“What do you think we should do, Principle?”

So he put him on the spot.

Now all the eyes were on the chairman (Except for Dali-kun, but he’s in his wicked phase, so it’s not that surprising)

“Kalego-kun is correct,” Ifrit quickly put Dantalion in a head-lock to stop whatever he was gonna do “We must find those behind this attack. But, we can let Dali-kun stalk them, make sure they don't mistreat our treasure” and Dantalion was gone before the chairman even finished his sentence.

“Kalego-kun, Opera-kun, make sure he doesn't attack Atori-san. Of course, unless Atori-san has stepped over the line, then feel free to educate Atori-san however you like!” and once again, the demons addressed disappeared, this time waiting until the chairman was done talking before flying after Dali-kun.

“Balam-kun, Ifrit-kun, please deal with Shiida-san. The rest should calm the students down. The stress may cause some to enter their wicked phase! please make sure they don’t harm their fellow classmates if they do enter their wicked phases” With that, he started moving, but his eyes stayed on Oswell a moment too long.

“..Orias-kun, please come with me” Everyone gave Oswell sympathetic looks. This is the first time a lot of them saw their chairman pissed, and none of them wanted to know how he acted when someone threatened one of his people.

Balam and Ifrit shared a look and started searching for Shiida. They found her literally in the next corridor, her posture tense, and looks like she was ready to fight. Before either of them could apprehend her, she looked Balam in the eyes, and something in him hesitated.

“What,” She started, her voice shaking with barely repressed rage “Did…Atori do?”

“What..did he do…to Iruma?”

They never had a chance

Atori, idiot, dead Atori, should have known not to attack Babyl school.

Baal, cocky, arrogant Baal, should have known better than to target one of Sullivan’s family

Shiida, innocent, naive Shiida, should’ve come and told them right away if she really didn't want Iruma to get hurt, but Sullivan is satisfied enough with the information he got from her, so he'll deal with her later. 

Kalego and Opera managed to convince Dali not to attack Atori the second they found him, whispering promises of all the things he could do to everyone who put his treasure in danger, and if they were patient now, they can make sure it never happens again. For how dangerous Dali is in his wicked phase, it’s laughably easy to manipulate him.

Soon, Opera was calling Sullivan to let him know that Atori seemed to be heading toward a mansion built on a famous river. Sullivan’s response was that backup is on the way.

“If you’re sure that’s where Atori is headed, Get Iruma back now” He ended the call, and Opera relayed the information to his companions. 

A blink later, and Dali was holding the Iruma’s cocoon in his arms, cradling him gently, and whispering reassurances to him.

No one commented on the red footsteps he left behind.

They quickly got rid of the silk engulfing Iruma

"Iruma-kun!" They all screamed at a kinda dazed, very confused Iruma. Did the exam finally finish? Why are they screaming his name?

"Uh, hi sensei-?" Opera suddenly grabbed his face and started… checking him over? Were they worried that he'd suffocated in the cocoon? And Kalego-sensei was poking at his limb like he'd gotten hurt, but he's fine!

"Shenshei, Opera-shan, I'm fine" he looked behind them and there was Dali-kun, but he was acting kinda strange? He was staring at him weirdly, and doesn't blink 

He doesn’t think he could win a staring contest against Dali-kun. 

"'Fine'? Yeah, of course, you're fine after getting kidnapped" Kalego muttered as he continued checking him over, and casting a small healing spell just in case. Just until they hunt down Buer to check this reckless idiot over.

"Kidnapped?" Iruma asked with all the innocence of a toddler that has yet to learn how to fly, which made everyone freeze.

Slowly, Opera directed Iruma’s head to look him into his eyes so what he tells him will really reach his head that, apparently, has been swimming amongst the cloud while he was being kidnapped. 

"Iruma-sama," Iruma looked into Opera's eyes, and he’s really questioning whether all humans are this naive or it's an Iruma-only thing 

"You have been kidnapped"

Silence stretched for a moment, and all the adults were staring tensely at Iruma, waiting for whatever response this child could give to being kidnapped. 

"Oh," he starts "haven’t gone through that in a while" 

Wait what?

"Wait, what?" 

"Yeah, it's the first time a teacher tried to kidnap me. Normally it'd be a creep in a corner, but if I'd known I was being kidnapped I wouldn't have just let Atori-sensei take me"

"Let's just..take him to the school"

"I'll be reporting this, information to Sullivan-sama"

"I'm going to hunt everyone who has ever wronged this child"

"Dali-kun! You don't have to carry me-!"

"He's right, Dantalion-kun. I can hold him while you go after those in the castle" 

"Will you two just put him down? He has two working legs and two working wings, he can move on his own!"

–

Baal was sitting impatiently in his office, waiting for Atori's return. He'd gotten word that the idiot has left the school quickly, so he's probably fucked up the very easy instructions he's given him.

How hard is it to just follow the plans Baal stays up all night forming? Do they always have to destroy everything he does? There's no way the plan was so hard this time that Atori would've fucked it up in a week. All he had to do was to not attack children. Is that very hard to do, people? Is it that hard not attacking a bunch of high schoolers?

A sigh escapes him as he rubs his forehead, already feeling the headache that'll grow once Atori tells him why he fled the school. A commotion could be heard from behind the door and Baal sighed even harder, because of course. Of course, the first thing Atori would do is pick a fight with literally everyone in the building. 

Just as Baal was about to get up and stop the nonsense going on outside, the door exploded.

Fire, blue and hot and greedy, engulfed everything in the room and threatening to engulf Baal with it. Vines suddenly appeared through the ceiling and from the ground, shooting and piercing the chair Baal was in a moment ago. If Baal hadn't jumped these vines would have-

An arrow, strong and bright and so full of magic, shot through his chest, knocking the breath out of him. And strong hands wrapped around his neck and banged his head onto the floor.

He couldn't move.

The presence above him, still holding him down, was too powerful for him to do anything. There are only three demons who could dream of bringing him down like this

"Baal-kun"

And apparently, he’s angered one of them

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Sullivan! What is the meaning of this, attacking me like that!"

"Oh, so this is how you want it to go?"

The hands squeezed tighter, threatening to just break his neck with a single movement. 

"I did not attack you, Baal-kun. You simply went missing, just like Behemolt-kun did. Everyone knows this, Baal-kun, how is it that you don't?"

–

They've thought that everyone knew by now. No matter who you are, or what status you have. No matter how rich or poor you may be, or how much of a big shot you think you are.

No one messes with the teachers of Babyl.

And no one may touch a single hair of their students. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that concludes the mairuma ideas that have stuck into my head and refused to leave. Hopefully I'll get other ideas or else I'll be super bored.