#but once you're done with your work then please strike with us

[apollos-olives]

unless it is ABSOLUTELY necessary for you to go out to do your work or school, then participate in the strike. i get it, life happens. sometimes you can't skip stuff. hell, even i can't skip everything tomorrow, but that doesn't mean you can't do your part. do what is absolutely necessary for you and your life, and then join the strike for us. join a protest, don't go out to eat, post more awareness on social media, do whatever you can. if you can't do one thing then find something else to do. there are countless ways you can help. do not feel guilty that you have to take care of your life, but try to give as much of your time and dedication to supporting the palestinian cause. good night and free palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸

[dduane]

Hello.

I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?

Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.

This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.

(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)

In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.

So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.

Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.

I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.

And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.

After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)

...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.

As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.

...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)

ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀SUCKIN' THEM OFF ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. toys usage. edging. oral sex. masturbation. praise kink. sub/dom reader. anal play. sub lucifer because I love him. vox using his hypnosis on you for a short minute. ill check this in a few hours after some sleep. #summary : title says it all; in which you suck em off during different occasions. #note : been busier with uni lately, not gonna post that often for a couple weeks. male reader will be out soon as per a request I received, I started writing this before the ask came in

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer's thighs could practically be inked by your hand from how hard you're clawing onto him. he's seated on the edge of your bed while you're kneeling between his legs on the floor, his length enveloped nicely by the warmth of your mouth. you draw a groan from him by swirling your tongue around his cock, his fingers tangling with your hair further with a tug. he sucks in a shaky breath, face flushed as he tilts his head back.

you hum softly, hollowing your cheeks and moving your head ever so slowly. you feel the tip brush against the back of your throat, the sensation causing you to moan around him. lucifer shudders from the vibration, his groans gradually growing into soft moans and whimpers. hearing him being so vocal strikes a chord in your chest, tempting you to go further into pleasing him and watch him break under your hands.

with a grin, you you remove your mouth from him which earns a whine from him as he briefly opens his eyes to look at you. “why’d you stop..” lucifer breathes out heavily, his chest heaving as he speaks. you don’t reply, pushing two digits past your damp lips and into your mouth, coating them with saliva. the angel watches you with confusion as you push his leg up onto the bed with your free hand while remaining kneeled on the ground.

that confusion did not last long. he didn't get the chance to even speak before you plunged the two fingers into him, your saliva working as a lubricant. a sharp gasp tumbles from lucifer's lips from the sudden stretch, his upper body falling further onto the bed until his arm weakly catches himself. he watches as you thrust your fingers in and out of him, bringing your lips closer to his twitching cock, and placing a kiss on his leaking tip.

you take your time drawing noises out from lucifer with kitten licks and kisses before slowly taking him in your mouth once again, sinking down until you have him fully in your mouth. you use your other hand to keep his legs spread open, increasing the pace of your fingers while working your mouth on his cock. the pleasure that he receives is amazing, so much so that his body visibly trembles as his moans grow.

lucifer's arms give out, and his upper body plops onto the bed with a thud. his back arches off the plush bed while simultaneously pressing the back of his hand onto his mouth, feeling himself approach closer to unraveling, blabbering about how overstimulated he feels to you.

"cum f' me, pretty boy?" you mumble just loud enough for him to hear before taking him whole in your mouth again, your words triggering the coil in his stomach. you feel hot strings of thick liquid shoot down your throat, your ears filled with the sweet, loud noises of your partner. you carry on swiping your tongue around the base of his cock until he's done and remove your fingers from him.

you keep his release on your tongue while removing his cock from your mouth, climbing up from between his legs to hover yourself above him; you make it visible to him when you swallow to watch his face burn up instantly. shooting him a smile, it's obvious that you're not done with him just yet.

ʚ ALASTOR .

it's near impossible to focus yourself to work your mouth on alastor's cock, not when he's having his face buried in between your legs as you lay on him. having a long tongue compared to the others has always been a win for alastor, able to reach sensitive areas inside of you with his mere tongue and watch your body twitch. you blink away tears that found their way to gather around your eyes from pleasure, attempting to steady your breathing in order to properly work your mouth.

the moment you fully take him into your mouth, he sinks his teeth into your inner thigh and sucks on the skin until he leaves dark marks. his grasp on your legs is hard and so does yours on his. your nails dig deep into his flesh, moaning while moving your head, the heat and dampness of your mouth engulfing his length that throbs from the feeling.

"carry on with your task, my dear." alastor speaks when he notices that you stopped moving your head just to bite back moans. his grin grows when he hears your small mumble of curses under your breath before taking him in again; he almost instantly plunges two fingers into you once you do so. your body twitches from the sudden shot of pleasure, moaning as your hips involuntarily push back to have his digits enter deeper.

his groans grow, feeling the amount of vibration that is sent coursing through his body from you moaning around his cock. it's rare to even hear him being this vocal, and you want more of it. taking advantage of his fingers thrusting into you, you don't hold back any moans and whimpers that climb up from your throat. the radio demon would occasionally curl his fingers inside of you, causing a jerk at your hips every time.

alastor doesn't keep a steady pace, often slowing down and picking up the pace of his fingers at random times. his hips sometimes buckle further into your mouth, tilting his head back deeper into the pillow he lay on from pleasure.

his voice is shaky as he speaks, "close- fuck, so close." his clawed fingers could almost draw blood out of your skin from his tightened grip. you give his cock an exaggerated suck after hearing his words, knowing exactly how to snap the coil in his stomach faster. his breath is hot against your thighs. with a thrust of his hips, strings of hot liquid shoots down your throat as he curses.

you reduce the pace of your head, allowing him to ride out his orgasm while you gather every drop of his release, not wasting a single bit. once you feel that he calmed down, you pull away and swallow, tasting the slightly salty and bitter taste sitting on your tastebuds. as you attempt to pull the fingers that are nestled inside of you and turn around, alastor holds you in place firmly and roughly thrusts his fingers into you.

you cry from pleasure, your head dropping onto his thigh as you look at him through the space between your legs; his smugness is painfully visible.

"oh no. not so fast, darling."

ʚ VOX .

"doing so good for me, mm?" vox coaxes, his voice gentle compared to the grip he has on your hair. you whine at his words, the tip of his cock practically bruising that one spot at the back of your throat from the pace he's having you work on him. you lap your tongue around the base, closing your eyes in hopes of stopping your gag reflex from having him so deep down your throat.

light chattering and sometimes even yelling could be heard outside of his office. demons are constantly walking by the doors that lead to the wide room that both of you are in; you're aware of this, of course, considering how he called for you in the middle of a busy working hour plainly because he wants his cock in your mouth. needy vox in the middle of work has slowly become a normal occurrence for you now.

you shudder from the vibration of vibrators being strapped around your inner thigh, strapped so close to where your sensitive area is. vox requested for you to strap them onto yourself the moment you stepped into his office, two strings hanging off his finger while he pointed your way. your thighs rub together, the friction drawing a moan from you.

vox leans back against his office chair, head tilting back to rest against the headrest. your teary gaze shifts from his wrinkled, loose outfit to his gaze that has been focused on you from above. meeting your gaze, a grin stretches onto his lips as he allows a groan from him to return your small plea. feeling satisfied, you carry on sucking him off while your drool travels down from his inner thigh down to his leather chair.

you can feel that he's close from the way he tugs on your hair harder than before, your scalp burning so much that it feels numb. you whine both from the pain and his size in your mouth, your jaw growing sore after being stretched open for a period of time. noticing this, vox gives your hair a light tug as he closes his eyes. your gaze lands on his screen, watching as his eyes re-open to reveal a red and black spiral, hypnotizing you.

your body freezes for a short second before it continues to what you were doing before this, obediently allowing vox to unravel while remaining inside of your mouth. he knows you're aware of his actions, and that you absolutely love it when he does it. you pull away from him as the hypnosis fades, blinking while his cum stays on your tongue. vox lifts your face up by the chin with a finger, pushing his thumb past your lips to feel the thick liquid that sits there.

you swallow, the warmth traveling down your throat slowly. your tongue swirls around his thumb, parting your lips to show that the liquid is no longer in your mouth. the demon hums at the sight, a hand moving to pat his lap; a signal for you to sit.

"come up and sit here for me, will you?"

ʚ VALENTINO .

valentino's limo drives through street after street in town, the area bustling with demons all around. he promised vox and velvette a nice place for dinner, yet you're here pleasuring him by fucking his cock into your mouth as per his request. the shaky car makes it harder to do so compared to when you're in a room instead, the tip constantly hits your throat with no mercy.

the inside of the limo is dim after you requested for him to turn off his bright, flashy lights. valentino agreed to do so unwillingly since he preferred to have them stay on, claiming them as iconic. but he turned them off in the end, complying with your request so you'd feel more comfortable while having a heated session with him in the vehicle at the very least.

that's not all, though. you also have a dildo stretching your gummy walls open so nicely, the unsteady movements of the limo allowing it to stimulate the specific spot that's buried inside of you. your fingers grip his coat tightly, uncontrollable moans continuously spilling from your mouth, muffled by his cock filling your mouth to the brim. valentino lets out a chuckle, a hand from his lower pair of arms holding your head by your hair.

"we're almost at the restaurant, cariño. gonna finish yourself off along with me?" you nod weakly, hips moving to thrust the dildo in and out of yourself. a hand of yours snakes down to hold the toy in place, your mouth never removing itself from his cock. your eyes close shut while tears gather from pleasure, hand gradually switching to ram the toy into yourself with a quicker pace.

you clench around the dildo, the grith of it drawing an excessive amount of noise from you as you suck valentino off. he curses from the pleasure, legs quivering ever so slightly with a buckle of his hips. he lost track of where the limo has headed to until the vehicle came to a halt, his eyes turning to gaze outside the window. vox and velvette are both visible sitting by the restaurant window.

he mumbles for you to keep going; it doesn't seem like he's in a hurry at all. you do as he says, wanting to finish this as soon as possible despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor. you don't want to have any one of them call valentino and ask about his whereabouts, knowing how he'll straight up tell them that you're not done milking him in his limo.

he gives your hair a slight tug, taking a long drag from his cigarette before speaking as pink smoke escapes through his lips. "those two can wait, we're staying here until we're done."

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Dire Crowley - Raven Jacket Vignette

"A dramatic encounter"

[Lecture Hall]

Crowley: Good morning. It is beautiful out, what an absolutely splendid start to such a lovely day.

Crowley: Incidentally… Have you noticed any changes in the apple tree growing in the courtyard?

Crowley: Yes, that's right. I'm speaking of the smallest, most recent planted tree within the courtyard.

Crowley: It feels as though it was only yesterday that it first started sprouting, and yet… It truly is growing at an astonishing rate.

Crowley: Whenever I chance a glance at that ever-striving tree growing each and every day under rain, shine or clouds, I also feel a twinge of self-reflection to be better.

Crowley: As if telling me that in both happy times and sad, one cannot forget to continue to strive for growth.

Crowley: And also… At the same time, I feel as though that tree represents all you students enrolled here at Night Raven College.

Crowley: That is, with respect to the point that with a good environment and proper nourishment, you all are able to grow and mature so wonderfully.

Crowley: …Well? Wouldn't you say that was an inspiring speech!?

Leona: Zzz.

Crowley: EXCUSE ME. I JUST HEARD A VERY LARGE SNORE THERE, WHO WAS THAT!?

Azul: It was magnificent! I was utterly enthralled by your wonderfully deep analogy. As one should expect from someone like you, Crowley-sensei!

Riddle: Really? I could have done with a little more tangible explanation, myself.

Riddle: What especially caught my attention was what you said about having "proper nourishment." Headmage, sir! What would that constitute?

Idia: Forget that, was this student assembly even a need? It's not even lol-worthy to think about how much time we've wasted having to listen to the Headmage's self-indulgent monologues on loop.

Vil: I concur. If all you wish to do is chit-chat, could you not gather the entire student body? I would rather use my mornings for my stretching exercises.

Octavinelle Student: Yeah, it's always some kind of useless speech.

Heartslabyul Student: I wanna go back to my dorm～

[clamoring]

Crowley: EVERYONE PLEASE QUIET DOWN!

Crowley: Anyway! What I was trying to say is…

Crowley: I would like everyone here to carry yourself with pride as befitting a student of Night Raven College.

Kalim: Oh! I was totally lost with what you were saying earlier, I see, so that's what you meant!

Kalim: I totally get it. I'll work hard just like an orange tree does!

Crowley: AN APPLE TREE!

[door opens]

Crowley: Hm? Who could possibly be showing up this late to… Ah.

Malleus: …

Crowley: D-DRACONIA-KUN!

Crowley: Right, did anyone tell him that there was to be a campus-wide student assembly…?

Everyone: Not at all.

Malleus: Was I not extended an invitation once again?

Malleus: You have the gall... To leave me outcast…

[lightning strikes down]

Crowley: W-Wait, Draconia-kun! Do not cast your lightning indoors!

Leona: Yaaaawn… Done blabbering, then? 'Kay, meeting over. Everyone back to their dorms.

[everyone nods]

Crowley: Aah, everyone, wait! If you're leaving, please take Draconia-kun with you!

[Cafeteria]

Crowley: For goodness’ sake. This morning could have gone much better.

Crowley: However, no matter what tribulations I may come across… Once it is time for lunch, I immediately feel much better!

Crowley: And that's all thanks to the delicious fare our school provides. What is the recommended meal of the day?

Ghost Chef: Welcome, Headmage. Today's recommendation is an exceptionally filling meat pie filled with large chunks of beef!

Crowley: Sounds fantastic. Please, I would have that, then.

Crowley: Oh, hello, Crewel-sensei and Vargas-sensei. I see Trein-sensei is with you too!

Crowley: Are you all taking lunch together? May I join you?

Vargas: Absolutely, yes, come and sit with us! I bet it'd be more than a hassle to find another seat when it's this crowded, anyway.

Crewel: I also was unable to find other seating, so here I am, reluctantly keeping company with a scold.

Trein: I do believe if you wish to avoid a lecture you would do well to not do anything warranting one.

Trein: …Oh. I see that you've ordered the beef pie, Headmage.

Crowley: That's correct. I am an avid connoisseur of meat, yes.

Crowley: Of course I'll eat it all, including beef, pork, chicken, and even wild game.

Trein: Wild game?

Crowley: Indeed, gibier, it's called. Have you ever tried it?

Vargas: Oh yeah, gibier! Last time I had some was when I ate some venison, and it sure did taste so delicious that I was overflowing with energy～

Crowley: You have a distinguished palate, Vargas-sensei. How wonderful.

Crowley: There are a multitude of other gibier meat to try, you know. I do hope you all have a chance to…

Sam: ＩＮ ＳＴＯＣＫ ＮＯＷ!

Everyone: AHH!!

Crowley: S-Sam-kun… I implore you to not pop in from behind us like that!

Sam: Nyeheehee. You all looked like you were lost in such enjoyable conversation, I just couldn't help myself.

Crewel: This is a rare sight, Sam. You're usually tending to the Mystery Shop around this time, aren't you?

Sam: The cafeteria ghosts had asked for a delivery of some ingredients, is all.

Sam: Headmage, if you're interested in some gibier that's a little more difficult to get your hands on, you know I got you.

Sam: Whatever kind of food you may want, I can procure it for you.

Crowley: You're fantastic, Sam-kun. How wonderfully supportive. However…

Crowley: In all actuality, I also have a fondness for vegetables, fruits and sweets in addition to meat. I love anything that is not spicy!

Crewel: I am fully aware. For as long as I remember, your omnivorous habits have made for quite the reputation.

Crowley: Omniv… Could you possibly say that in a more appropriate manner!?

Sam: …Hm? I just noticed that everyone's ordered very different dishes. Really goes to show each of your preferences.

Vargas: Since I always have my muscles on my mind, I make it so my lunches are egg dishes packed full of protein!

Crewel: I do like meat pies myself, so I did consider it… But that size is far too much for me.

Crewel: It may be perfect for those growing students, but it is most likely in excess of the recommended nutritional intake for us adults.

Trein: Indeed. I also selected something else when I saw it with my own eyes.

Trein: If I ate such a thing for lunch, I would still feel it weighing me down during afternoon classes.

Crowley: Is that so? Such a shame. It's so delicious～

Vargas: Nice, that's a great appetite you got. I'll have to work hard to keep up!

Trein: Look at him, devouring that hearty and greasy meat pie so easily… He truly is young at heart…

Crewel: You're not wrong, he hasn't changed one bit from my student days.

Trein: For that matter, I don't believe he's changed since I started my tenure here at Night Raven College…

Crewel: Headmage… How old is he truly? I'm curious, and yet I'm not sure I want to know…

Sam: Nyeheehee. He's truly a man of mystery. It piques one's curiosity.

Crowley: Ah, so delicious. Past me deserves such gracious thanks for hiring these Five-Star restaurant chefs.

Crowley: And what a dramatic encounter it was meeting those chef ghosts.

Crowley: That was… Oh, hm. How many decades ago, now?

[Main Street]

Crowley: Now, what shall I do this afternoon? The other professors are busy with classes, so mayhaps I'll go while away the time at Sam-kun's shop…

???: We ain't gotta sweat the small stuff, c'mon.

Crowley: Hm? This voice…

Grim: No one'll notice if we skip one or two classes. We should totally just snag a few z's instead, myahaha!

1. Let's hurry and head back towards the classroom. 2. Maybe you're right and no one will catch us…

Crowley: That certainly was Grim-kun's voice, I see…

Crowley: Even if it is just those two, how could there be anyone with the audacity to cut class at my academy! I absolutely cannot believe it!

Savanaclaw Student: Hey, we'll be using that bench to relax on while we ditch class. Get off.

Grim: Huuh!? I'm the one who found this sunny spot first!

Crowley: WHA― THERE ARE OTHERS CUTTING CLASS AS WELL!?

Crowley: Not only are there multiple students missing class, it seems a fight is about to break out, as well… What is with this break in decorum at this school?

Crowley: EXCUSE ME, YOU LOT! YOU SHOULD ALL BE IN CLASS RIGHT NOW!

Grim: Urgh. Someone annoying's found us.

Crowley: [Yuu]-kun, it is most troublesome if you cannot look after Grim-kun properly.

1. I'm sorry.

Crowley: How refreshing… It's so moving to have someone apologize so forthright immediately after breaking a rule…

2. Grim just doesn't listen to me.

Crowley: Y-You're just running yourself ragged, I see… Poor thing to have to deal with Grim-kun like this.

Crowley: All of you return to class this instant. It should be an honor that you have the privilege of attending classes here.

Crowley: Magic is not something so simple that can be controlled on talent alone.

Crowley: Of course, natural talent may be important, but what truly matters is maturing your abilities through daily growth and experiences.

Crowley: You all do remember my very loving speech from this morning, yes?

Grim: It was all about somethin' boring, so I wasn't listening.

Ignihyde Student: Yeah. Same.

Crowley: EXCUSE ME!? [Yuu]-kun, please tell me you had your listening ears on this morning?

1. Of course I remember.

Crowley: Whew... At least you're a good student.

2. Something about grape trees, right?

Crowley: APPLE TREES!

Ignihyde Student: Man, you're so annoying… You keep yammering on, but there's really no reason to listen to you, is there?

Diasomnia Student: Seriously. It’s not like I've ever seen the Headmage do any kind of crazy strong magic or anything, and even the Housewardens were ignoring him at the student assembly…

Savanaclaw Student: He ain't scary at all. Just ignore him!

Crowley: …What pitiful children.

Crowley: Well, I suppose I have no choice. I'll just have to show you exactly how important incremental advancement in your studies can be.

Crowley: …FOR MY KINDNESS KNOWS NO BOUNDS!

Students: HRRGHH!

Grim: Oh hey, that stuff wrapped around those guys is the Headmage's uh… weird rope thing!

Crowley: This is not rope. This is my lash of love! A slightly stronger version than before.

Savanaclaw Student: OW, OW! I'M GETTING SQUEEZED～!

Diasomnia Student: This kinda magic should be no problem to break out… Hurng, I can't!? Wh-Why? Our magic's not even making a scratch on it!

Crowley: That should be expected. You do realize I am the Headmage here, yes? This level of magic comes as easily to me as breathing does.

Crowley: It's one thing when those who comprehend my power, like the Housewardens, speak in jest…

Crowley: But it would be completely disgraceful of me as an instructor to be belittled by students like you who have no knowledge of the difference in our abilities.

Crowley: You should try to comprehend how unripe your magical abilities still are.

Grim: Yeah, yeah, get 'em, Crowley! Show 'em what little they know!

1. I wouldn't get too carried away… 2. Wouldn't it be better to run before…?

Crowley: And a lash of love for you! My more heedful version!

Grim: GRRAAH～!

1. Astounding, no matter how many times I see it! 2. Your lightning quick flick made quick work of him!

Crowley: Heh, you don't have to go that far in praising… Hold on now, Grim-kun! No matter how much you thrash about, nothing will come of it. Calm yourself.

Crowley: After all, I have such high expectations for you, Grim-kun. That includes you too, [Yuu]-kun.

Crowley: I fully believe that the two of you will be integral to changing the future of this academy.

Crowley: I'm sure you two will be all I hope for and more, don't you?

Grim: Yeah, yeah, I gotchu. Just leave it all to the genius Grim-sama.

Grim: …SO LET ME GO ALREADY～!

Crowley: Well then. I suppose I'll just take you all to your assigned classes just like this now.

Grim: Huh!? If you drag us along all tied up like this, everyone that'll see us will all point and laugh…!

Grim: LET GO, LET ME GOOO!

Crowley: I must make sure that you Night Raven College students properly reflect on your actions and learn from each experience.

Crowley: And that is because you are all one of my very precious, precious apple trees...

Requested by Anonymous.

[romanoffsbish]

Love Me ‘Til I’m Black and Blue

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Warnings: Manipulative—Mean(Hurt)/Possessive Natasha | Alluded to Drinking | Violence | Smut w/“Minimal” Plot(whatever that means for me lmao) | Angst (Happy Ending)

Smut: Krolick / Slut (R/🐇) | Rough | Bondage (R) | Panty/Ball Gag | Spanking | Temp Play 🕯️🧊| Choking | Teasing | Marking | Strap(R) | Oral (R) | Fingering (R) | Degradation | Overstimulation | Blood / Violence 😀 | Self-Indulgent Fic 🥰

18+ | Minors DNI | Labeled/Please Don’t Report

WC: 4,220

Natasha kneaded the flesh of your ass, she was sweet with her touches, but you knew better than to trust the tenderness. All the redhead wanted was to destroy you wholly. To leave you a moaning, drooling mess, just so she could drag you back to the bar and show off her handiwork to all the patrons that ogled you.

More specifically, she'd throw you towards that bitch who had her tongue down your throat. She'd test her, tease her with the greatest temptation—you, just before she'd strike. Her reputation would remain intact as she'd stage it to seem like she was taking advantage of you.

Breaking Susie Q's nose would be warranted.

——

Fortunately she had the resolve to reel her impulses in, and the trained patience to take things with you painstakingly slow. Well, fortunate to the unsuspecting patrons, and for her, but to you not so much. For you it was all so incredibly daunting as you felt the cool breeze rush over your hot slick as it dripped down your thighs and onto the satin sheets.

"You're so beautiful krolick," she purred as her hands groped your ass particularly hard, you moaned wantonly when her fingers dipped down and grazed your folds and she chuckled huskily, "You're making such a fucking mess."

You felt pathetic, you tried to leave, and here you are with a body that worked against you.

"I'm going to enjoy ruining you Y/N, maybe once I'm done you'll remember who you belong to. Nobody will ever try and touch you again."

This was the worst kind of torture, the redhead had you tied to her bed with your ass up, back arched painfully, and legs spread wide open.

There was familiarity to it, a well practiced dance between the two of you, but you also felt something change in the overall energy.

It'd only been three weeks since she'd had you like this, before you left her without a word in the middle of the night because you wanted more than she was willing to offer. More than a night of bliss meant to be cloaked in secrecy.

Natasha had a hero's reputation to uphold, and you, well the only reputation you had was as the patron buying ben and jerry's at the 7/11 on the corner every other night around 2am.

There was never a reason to publicize her attachment to you, or so she hoped. You were her favorite, best kept secret until now. It was finally made public tonight when she, The Black Widow, was seen pulling you out of the nightclub with a dangerous glint in her eyes. It was obvious you weren't an enemy to any of the passerby's, but you were clearly in trouble.

"You thought you could just move on from us and that there wouldn't be any repercussions?"

You gasped as she slapped both your cheeks, then you whimpered as she dug her nails into the skin until she felt blood pooling beneath. "You're such a fucking slut Y/N, I have given you everything you could ever want, and need, but it's never enough. When will you learn?"

You shockingly cut her off, "Not everything!"

Natasha froze, you were feeling rather bold tonight. No matter, she'd fuck the fight out of you, just as she did every time you acted up.

Her hands started the night off with brutality. With every slap she let her anger shine, there was hardly a reprieve, and if there was one it was followed by a swift slicing of her nail. She only stopped when she heard your soft 'please' as that was an indicator you'd call out the safe word soon if she didn't move passed this part.

The redhead squeezed your hips reassuringly as her hands had glided up, then she soothed the open wounds of your bare ass with her warm tongue. "You're so fucking addicting!" Natasha loved the taste of you, it didn't matter whether it was your blood, sweat, glorious tears or purest essence, she was a fiend for it all.

Natasha was abrupt when she left your behind and moved to your side. You winced as the gust of air breezed over your welted, glistening ass leaving you to feel the rush of a harsh sting.

You peered up as best you could with your face smooshed to the bed, your eyes strained as you watched Natasha move in a flash. You heard more than you saw as the fabric slid down her body, and the bedside drawer had opened.

Then, as if Natasha was giving you a master lesson on senses, you felt her fingers press into your throat, gagging you as she shoved her wet panties into your mouth. Your body shivered as you tasted that addictive essence of hers.

"Gonna Pavlov your ass into remembering the only thing you should ever need," she sneered, "Maybe I'll keep you between my legs from now on, everywhere I go, your mouth follows."

Natasha chuckled as she watched you try to close your eyes to hide your arousal, but your hips twitched and you drooled over the ball gag she'd hastily placed into your mouth so you couldn't remove the panties. It was as if you couldn't help but to need to prove her right.

"There you go krolick, you're already behaving accordingly." Her fingers gently traced over the curvature of your face before she disappeared.

The next thing you heard was the faint sound of a flame being ignited, your body followed suit with goosebumps as you wondered what was going on behind you. Natasha watched with delight as you unconsciously squirmed.

She was standing behind you just out of sight with a burning candle in her hand. It was black upon first glance, but as the wax slowly melted it mixed with the bright red layered beneath to create a perfect crimson pool at her disposal.

"Try to stay still now, let's not ruin the sheets just yet detka, I'd rather let your juices do the bulk of that," she husked as her finger dragged up your spine from the tip of your tailbone. A bit of foreshadowing really since only seconds later had she tipped the candle and delighted in the way that the wax slid down your skin as you screamed out in muffled agony. "There you go detka, embrace the burn and feel just how I have felt ever since you walked out on me!"

The woman beamed when you sobbed harder, you should feel remorse for what you've done. Natasha was a sadist by design, but her heart was soft for you at the core, so within a minute (or two) of letting you endure the painful burn she was soothing, and shocking you, as she ran a piece of ice down the same trail of your spine.

The wax fully hardened once more, and you whimpered through the doubled gag to let her know you were appreciative as the cool water dripped down and soothed the agitated skin.

"See krolick?" Her frigid fingertips followed the trail of water to further soothe your sensitive skin. "I'd never ice you out like you did to me, all I want is for you to be happy; in my arms."

With your mind in a state of pure confusion on if this was pleasurable or not she added to it as she began littering the remaining exposed skin of your back with bruises and teeth marks. She smirked against you, relishing in the way that you moaned freely as she marked your skin up.

"I need to see you as I fuck you," she growled against the nape of your neck, her hips firmly pressed into the raging skin of your brutalized ass, and it was then you felt the massive cock.

Natasha flipped you onto your back with little warning, causing you to cry out as your nearly numb limbs were forcefully tangled as your restraints remained. Besides the gags that she swiftly removed and tossed across the room. You gasped at not only your overwhelming soreness, but also your access to breathing had been restored. Momentarily that was, because Natasha was not abstaining for a single second.

The woman was fierce as she slammed her lips into yours, her tongue explored your mouth for what felt like eons. Once she finally retracted the muscle her teeth came out to play. Pearly whites soon gnawed your lower lip between hers, she gave a deceitfully soft suckle to it before she pierced the sensitive layer of skin.

Natasha took great pleasure in feeling the gush against the back of her teeth, so she dared to bite down even harder and twist the lower lip up until your throat shook with a pitiful sob.

The familiar taste of iron flooded your mouth, Natasha pulled away just in time to see your eyes widen as you mulled over just how busted your lip must look. Only for your suspicions to be confirmed at the sight of her devilish grin, Natasha looked down with eyes that spoke of possession, and with teeth stained in crimson.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful like this," she beamed, "Completely at my mercy, my poor, defenseless krolick whatever will you do?"

The question was rhetorical, yet you felt bold enough to answer it. "Leave in the night again."

A harsh slap bounced off the walls of the room and you choked on your bloody saliva as your head flew into the strained muscle of your shoulder, further smearing blood on your body.

"Don't threaten someone who has you tied up, and could make the world forget you exist!"

For a moment everything stopped, you looked into her eyes and only saw traces of honesty. Natasha had never made such a threat before, you'd always had the opened door policy, but something in her eyes died with your words. It was as if she was out of compassion for you, as if you had committed a truly heinous crime.

Such as breaking her heart, something that's usually dealt with by a heartbeats sudden end. Her gaze alone told you that, but her sideways smirk whispered out it wouldn't be that easy.

Every last part of your mind, body and soul should've wanted to run, this wasn't healthy. You even willed your brain to formulate a plan of escape, but your body vehemently refused. Natasha worked you up well, and the feral lilt in her gaze only spurred your arousal on.

Deep down you knew she was hurting, and in the bedroom her anger almost always lead her movements. Whether it be after a mission, or upon seeing someone else near you, she would have you sprawled out beneath her and fucked dumb in minutes. The soft, intimate sex that told you Natasha loved you was rare, and only ever came on nights where she drank herself into a wine haze. The drink romanticized her.

Seeing you dancing with another made her deadly, you were learning jealousy wasn't always the safest bet, but you also knew that this was likely going to be life changing sex.

You were already excessively dripping for her.

Your heart also hoped it would bring about change elsewhere, but for now your mind was muddling with incessant need. Natasha could feel it as her lips hovered your racing pulse, she smirked against the skin, and you were caught.

"Your poker face could use some work, your words and your physiology don't align," her fingers taunted you as they dipped inside of your slick velvet warmth, caressing your walls with roughened fingertips, but never enough to suffice the burning desire for you to be filled.

"Admit that you're mine krolick, and I'll fuck your tight little hole, I can feel it pulsing," she chuckled when your body froze in defiance but your walls fluttered, "Don't deny yourself pleasure by being a stubborn bitch now Y/N..."

"I'm as much yours as you are mine Natasha," you retorted with a bitterness that left the redhead to roll her eyes at your cheeky reply, and to prove herself annoyed she slapped your cunt, making you scream at the brutal force in which your clit had just been assaulted with.

"Semantics are such a bitch." Natasha bit hard into your neck as she grumbled, "Just say what you mean, or keep your lips sealed shut slut."

Natasha hovered over you now, blood dribbling down her chin wearing a glare as sharp as her jawline. You could see in her eyes that she was battling over what to do next. Her hands rested lightly on your chest and her strap pressed into your thigh as she held back on ravishing you. Natasha wanted you to wait for your pleasure, the same way she'd waited for you to return.

"You're so pretty when you're quiet," she noted, then just as you went to pettily reply she wrapped her hand around your throat and a moan replaced your words. Getting caught in your throat as she cut your access to oxygen off fully. Natasha bit her lip as she saw your eyes filling with dread and a swirl of mistrust.

"Maybe I'll put you to sleep, and use you in peace," Natasha grinned devilishly when your eyes widened further in a clear plead. "This is a warning then, be a good girl if you want to be awake when I make your tense body release." Natasha winked, her harsh grip relented slightly, but it remained as she, without any warning, slammed her hips forward and filled your slick cunt with her thick silicone shaft.

The way the bulbous tip slammed into your cervix had you losing sight for a moment, your eyes crossed as your throat bobbed against her palm, and your back had arched all over again.

The redheads hips stilled as soon as they met yours, for a moment it was serene as her forehead pressed into yours. Her hand fell from your neck as she lost herself for a bit. Her shaky breaths fanned across your face, and you smiled at your obvious effect on the woman.

In some deluded way Natasha believed she could feel the squeeze of your cunt, her clit pulsed at the thought. It always drove her wild how your walls would hold her strap captive, even when you were as sopping wet as you were now. It gave her that desirable friction against her clit while it restricted her hips.

Once you sighed she knew she could move, so she took in a large inhale then slowly pulled the strap back out of you. You braced yourself for the storm that always followed the brief moment of calm, and in seconds your eyes were rolled back into the darkness of your mind as she set a brutal pace. Nothing but the white of your eyes was visible to the redhead.

Having you fucked out like this was something she took great pride in. No one would ever be able to satisfy you like she always did, and she knew you were just too stubborn to admit it.

But your body never failed to sing her praises. "Fuck," she groaned as your hips canted up and caused her thrusts to falter, "You see how your body moves with mine? It's because it knows its destined place is to be beneath mine. You're mine krolick!" The bed shook with just how powerful her thrusts had become, you knew she was probably thinking back to the bar.

Your heart grew guilty, and you gave in then. "Yours," you whimpered, and she instantly pressed her lips to yours as her hand weaved between your bodies. Daft fingers spread the peak of your cunt to expose your puffy clit, and she smirked against your parted lips as you screamed. The pleasure instantaneously took you over, a simple swirl of her thumb and you were gushing around her strap. Slick drenched the sheets, her thighs, and your ass as well.

Natasha didn't stop, she merely lifted your legs and kept going. You couldn't even catch your breath before she had your body building back up to a place of ecstasy with the deeper angle of each harsh thrust. Her sloppy thrusts told you that she was close herself and this was her simply chasing her release down without shame, and in turn rewarding you with more.

When Natasha came crashing down her face landed right in between your breasts, her breathing ragged for all of thirty seconds. The widow's stamina was alarming, she'd began to nip and suck as her hips shallowly thrusted. Keeping your cunt engaged as she slowly let her mouth love upon your sensitive breasts. 

"Natasha," you whimpered but she pulled away with a sweet smile, her lips pecked yours then she was gone completely. Her strap naturally slipped from inside of you, but just as quickly as you felt your cunt hollow out you were full again as she had kissed down your body in a giddy haste to reach your puffy slicked lips.

Natasha's tongue lapped at your folds, her throaty moans due to the taste of you drove your wild as she plunged her tongue inside of you as far as it could go, and you mewled at the way they vibrated through your cunt. It wasn’t more than seconds before you met her thrusts with renewed intentions. Seconds prior you were begging for her to stop, to cease her thrusting but now you didn't want it to end.

It hadn’t been that long since she last had you spread out like this, with her hands gripping your thighs in a vice grip to keep you wide open as her tongue unleashed havoc upon your cunt. But a week without to her was more like a year, and it’d already been three weeks too many.

Which is why she wasn’t relenting, you tried to shimmy away at one point but Natasha wasn’t having it. She growled viciously, and nibbled on the skin of your thighs in warning, then dove right back in. It was growing increasingly unbearable as you’d not only cum more times then you could count at this point, but the ache in your shoulders was persistently throbbing.

What finally brought her to a stop was when you gushed around her fingers that she’d only just barely slipped inside of you, your thighs quivered then clamped shut so tightly that it kept her lower face and arm from moving. All Natasha could do was sigh in contentment as she felt your essence dripping down her palm, and gushing into her mouth and up her nose.

Natasha reluctantly pulled away when you’d finally unleashed your hold on her head, a smile on her face as the first whiff of air she took in was overtaken by your essence. She hoped the alluring smell wouldn’t fade fast.

Your legs fell into the mattress and she found herself immediately enamored by the sight of you. Your entire body was spent; truly wrecked, and she loved it. Sweat layered your body, causing any dried blood to lighten and pool atop of your skin. There was an array of marks left behind, she wondered if she had lost control in an undesirable way, but her heart absolutely beamed with a negation as she felt it was a warranted response to nearly losing you.

While you worked to merely catch your breath Natasha was up on her feet, removing the harness and grabbing a water from the mini fridge. Then, as you laid there with a fucked out face, with your eyes closed, she’d crawled back up the bed and straddled your body as she worked on removing your jumbled restraints.

The whimper you let out was absolutely pitiful, and it only made you that much more adorable to her. She was oblivious to the genuine pain, so for now she aided you in guzzling down the bottle water. You didn’t register any of it, but Natasha was whispering the sweetest of words against the heated skin of your numb shoulder as she cuddled up incredibly close to you.

The moment was perfect—fleetingly so…

As your mind returned to you it reminded you that it was time to go, the redhead was nearly asleep, and as great as the sex was she wasn't showing any interest in talking this all out. Natasha felt the jolt of your body and her hand flew out to stop you, she moved her body atop of yours and burrowed her head into your neck, as her arms slid between you and the mattress.

"Natasha, let me go, it's already late enough."

"No, you don't need to go Y/N," she mumbled, "You're safe here, with me, where you belong."

"I do not belong anywhere but in my own bed," you growled, then even though your body ached you flipped her onto the bed and sprung to your feet before she could catch you again.

"You're being so ridiculous Y/N!" The redhead shouted, inside she was panicking as you were hastily pulling your scattered clothing back on.

"Wanting to be more than a secret is fair! What's ridiculous is how you play me every single time you get me back into your bed'"

"I'm not playing you," she stammered in hurt. You sighed, "and you don't love me Natasha."

"God, you really are being ridiculous Y/N. I love you so fucking much, can't you see that?!" You scoffed bitterly, "Natasha, love is not something that's meant to be hidden! We've not been on one date in two years together."

"It is when I live with a constant target on my back!" She screamed before she crumpled right to her knees before you, with uncharacteristic tears streaming down her face, she held onto your legs to keep you from leaving her again.

Natasha's life has been misery without you, she wasn't going to give you up without a fight.

"I'm on missions all the time Y/N, I didn't want you stuck at the compound, because now that will be your reality. My humanity won't survive if you were to die because of your ties to me."

You felt stupid, truly, because it wasn't like you didn't discuss the reasons with her before. She was just usually more vague, dismissing you with half-truths, her emotions were never this transparent, and now you saw it more clearly.

Natasha cried harder when you forced her off of you, she wouldn't actually hold you against your will, but she was just hoping you'd stay. That she didn't run you off to the point that you didn't love her anymore. She looked up when the door shut expecting to be alone in her misery, but you were sat down with a sad smile leaning against it. "Come here my love."

The redhead reached you in seconds, her body slammed into yours and for now you decided it best to just let the silence speak for itself, and hopefully mend your equally fragile hearts. It seemed to work too as her sobs died out, and you felt truly at peace for the first time in ages.

"Just promise that this won't be our forever," you broke the silence. "Tell me that one day you will retire, and we can live more freely."

Natasha pulled back with a resolute smile. "Funny enough, I never had imagined a life outside of Avenging until you came along."

You smiled like a child, it was the purest one you'd ever flashed her and she couldn't stop from leaning up to kiss you. "I promise you that we'll be free from this life one day Y/N. Our destiny will be more than just surviving."

"Then I'll be happy to be Wanda's live in bestie whenever you must leave for the worlds sake."

"I was thinking of leaving you with Steve," she deadpanned and you slapped her shoulder, but just as soon regretted it when you felt a sharp pain course through from your hand through your aching shoulders over to the other side.

Natasha frowned at the sharp inhale you took. "Oh krolick, I was too rough," she whispered in clear understanding, and shushed you when you tried to brush off her concern. "Don't, I should have been more in control, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I loved it Nat," you interrupted her, she quirked a teasing brow, and matched your happiness with a smug smirk at the revelation. "I think just maybe the restraints were a bit too much, like, when you roughly flipped me over."

"I think the restraints were necessary for the sake of our engagement not becoming a murder scene," she teased while standing up, you rolled your eyes but took her hands in yours so she could gently pull you up next.

"Natasha, I am covered in my own blood."

"Are either of us dead though?" You snorted, "Wait! Are you saying you were worried I'd kill you, the infamous Black Widow who could take out a room of men without breaking a sweat?"

"I am saying that it was tense, and I properly fucked the brat out of you. Now get into the bathroom krolick, I'll be right behind you."

——

[hazbinpage]

Lucifer x Reader HCs

(In which your relationship is romantic and you both live in the hotel.)

WC is 1741

(A/N: I love Lucifer so much. What a man. That being said, he's probably really OOC in this: we've only seen his character in a select few situations, none of which demonstrate how he treats his romantic partner or bonds with people he doesn't know, and I haven't read enough fics about him to decide what I like. Additionally, I'm not the best at writing romance at this point, so hopefully nothing is too off lol! With the disclaimers out of the way, please enjoy and lmk what you think! :))

-He isn't very fond of sinners, and while his perspective on them has changed since joining the hotel, his opinion certainly hasn't flipped 180 degrees. How could it have? Good deeds never made the news in Hell, and the dead he was forced to interact with were powerful. Powerful sinners were never innocent; no one becomes an overlord by accident. Centuries upon centuries of talking to the powerful, witnessing only violence and hatred, will not be undone by a single moment of comradery in war — a battle where he couldn't know if the sinners were acting solely in their own self-interest.

-This is why, when you first arrive at the hotel, he's fairly aloof. He'll be polite, of course; he has no reason not to be (especially while lowkey still trying to win over his daughter), but will hold himself distant.

-Despite this, he admits you're kinda cute....

-You don't see him often, which doesn't help with his distance — he isn't used to being around so many people, and while he's pretty charismatic and extroverted, he's also still depressed and has a habit of self-isolating when he's going through it (which is often). He only really comes out for his daughter's sake.

-To get to know him faster than his changing perspective and mental challenges would otherwise allow, you could: one, approach him directly! Be friendly, open, and interested in his hobbies. This only works if you do the same for the others, though. If you don't, he might see your advances as manipulation. Two, you could develop a relationship with Charlie. Support her, believe in her cause, and have her back. He'll see you helping his daughter and will want to understand you further. Three, you could talk about ducks. That'll get him. He'll approach you eventually and strike up a conversation.

-If you don't do any of these things, that's fine; he'll just get to know you at the same pace that he gets to know the others. He'll slowly open up to the idea that not all sinners are violent psychopaths, become more comfortable with the rest of the crew, and realize how well he connects with you over a period of several months.

- Lucifer catches feelings pretty fast once you start hanging out for real. He's enamored with you: not only are you cute as fuck, but his daughter loves you, and you're the nicest sinner he's ever met (while kindest of the damned is not a hard-earned title, it's one he appreciates nonetheless).

-Once he realizes he's caught feelings, he'll ask Charlie for permission to ask you out. He doesn't want to pursue you if she isn't comfortable with it; she's already got familial issues, and he doesn't want a sudden shift in the family dynamic to hurt her further. If she says yes (which, if she likes you, she probably will), he'll ask you out to dinner.

-Prepare for the first date to be really awkward. Even if you've known him for a while at this point, he's incredibly nervous — he hasn't done anything romantic in a good while, and the last time he tried a relationship, it didn't work out. The whole time, he's fumbling over his words and cringing at himself, saying things he doesn't mean to while trying to be suave. When he escorts you back home after a very bumpy evening, he'll be downtrodden. He messed things up, just as he knew he would, and now you probably hate him; thoughts of self-loathing and regret swirl in his mind until you say you'll pay him back next time (he blinks up at you owlishly. "Next time? Like...another date?" You confirm his thoughts. "Oh--- oh! Yes, absolutely! I mean, no, no need to pay me back; of course not, but next time sounds good! How does this Saturday at 3 sound?").

-A couple of dates in, and he's feeling more confident, which reflects in his now far more self-assured demeanor and smooth language. He's a silver-tongued devil, after all, and he has to live up to his name.

-If all goes well, after about a month, he realizes he wants you to be his partner. He, once again, gets Charlie's permission and brainstorms with some of your friends about how to pop the question. Initially, he wants to impress you, pulling out the big guns and whisking you off your feet on the balcony of a lavish black-tie restaurant rented for just the two of you. After some discussion among your peers and deliberation of his own, though, he decides to do something else. He invites you to his tower, where he's prepared a handmade dinner with candles and soft music in the background. The food isn't particularly good (he can't cook very well and enlisted Vaggie and Nifty's help to make his dish edible), and the smoke from the candles stopped being pleasant about a half an hour in, but regardless, you both have a wonderful time, laughing about his lack of culinary skills and the excessively warm room. He asks if you would like to be his lover at the end of the evening, nervous but somehow also self-assured, and is overjoyed when you say yes. The next day, he parades you around the hotel, bragging that you said yes and talking about you to anyone who'd listen.

-If he wasn't big on physical affection before he got so lonely, he is now. While his hands might not constantly be on you, they've come close to that, especially if he's going through a hard time. Expect lots of hand-holding, arm-looping, cuddling, and kissing. He likes resting his head on yours (or your shoulder, depending on how tall you are) while he wraps his arms around you (or the reverse — he loves being cradled), you both sitting together on the couch. He also has a habit of rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of your hand while holding it.

-Smother his face with kisses, his cartoony heart-eyes expression will look a tenth lovestruck as he feels.

-You receive frequent duck memes, duck-themed gifts, and duck dissertations. He doesn't go around parading his interest, but if he trusts you, he can't keep himself from wanting to share everything about his hyperfixation. He's concerned about being annoying, though, and while you could try to curb his insecurity by telling him he's not, the best reassurance is to match his energy: talk about your own obsessions and be just as weird about them as he is. Not only does he feel better about himself, but he gets to talk with you for extended periods of time, your eyes alight and grin large. He'll probably try to get into whatever you talk about, wanting to connect with you further.

-He likes giving you gifts in general. Especially those that show you're in a relationship with him, like wearable apple or goat paraphernalia. While he does enjoy gift-giving for its own sake, he's insecure and doesn't want anyone to think they can cross him by taking you. If you give him anything duck-themed, handmade, or (heavens help him) both, especially without reason? He will melt. He loves it; he can feel the thought and effort you put in for him and feels known and loved.

- He’s kinda clingy; he likes being around you as often as possible and gets nervous if you're gone too long; if you leave for more than a day, he's like a koala when you return. It's comforting to him to know where you are, but it’s even more comforting when you tell him how much you love him before you go. His self-esteem isn't at a record low, but it certainly isn't high, and he has huge abandonment issues. Every once in a while, because of this, he'll grow distant; his thoughts of being undeserving or theories about how you're going to leave him become too much, and he semi-subconsciously pulls away to protect himself. Be patient with him during these times; show him how much you care and how you would never leave. Tell him you love him as he is. The first time you say so, he'll cry in your arms and snuggle you for hours.

-He'll become less clingy and insecure as your relationship goes on, but will always rather be with you than alone.

- He's majorly protective. He knows what it's like in Hell, and he knows that by dating you, he's put a target on your back, which only adds to your lack of safety. He will pull all the strings he has in order to keep you safe, whether that means accompanying you when you're out and about, actively keeping you away from overlords, or tracking your phone without your knowledge. He feels bad about some of his less savory means of protection, but not bad enough to stop. The thought of your death haunts him too much to let you be.

-Similarly, though he won't ever admit it, your redemption keeps him up at night. If you're redeemed and go up to heaven, he can't see you anymore — maybe ever. He knows you want to better yourself and tries his best to support you in your improvement, but sometimes his fear gets to be too much. In those moments, he has to spend some time alone before he tries to sabotage your progress in any way — any more than he already has.

-It's hard to tell what his love language is because he uses all of them. He wants to spend time with you (though he will give you a break if you need one; he understands needing to be alone, even if it makes him nervous), give you gifts, be touchy, do things for you, and tell you how wonderful he thinks you are. He wants you to know just how much he cares in every way he can and will be receptive to any form of love in return.

-He doesn't use as many pet names as some of the rest of the cast would, but he does use them! He likes calling you sweetheart and angel-eyes the most.

-Overall, he has a lot of insecurities and mental health problems to work through, but tries his best to be the best partner he can be for you. It's hard work to improve himself, but if you'll have him, he'll stay by your side forever.

[themochiverse]

The Monster Under the Bed | KNJ

➳ Pairing: yan!nightmare!demon!nj x fem!reader

➳ Genre: Yandere, Horror, Monster Au

➳ Warnings: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, mentions of tera-phphobia (fear of monsters), childhood abuse and trauma, mention of an alcoholic parent, gore, violence, blood, injuries, asphyxiation, gagging, NON-CON kissing and touching (not sexually), Namjoon degrades the reader a bit, supernatural torment, physical harm to the reader, the reader goes a bit crazy, mentions of soul-eating?…. Anyways

➳ Synopsis: When a human falls asleep they face two realms: the dream and nightmare world— where one is controlled by the angels to kiss you goodnight, and the other controlled by unknown creatures that push behind your darkest fears. So when your constant fear of monsters hiding under your bed continues to grow in your life, one peculiar nightmarish friend becomes infatuated to keep it that way.

➳ Word Count: 6.7k+

➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

The Monster Under the Bed ©Copyright -2024- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that uses anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

A/N: Fuck my lazy ass, I got it done, and I hope the story is good! I wasn’t bothered to add a banner cuz I was too excited to post, I’ll add one later one. Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94 @trashlord-007

You're asleep.

Head tucked in gently in the crevice of your elbow, the soft quilt tangled by your ankles as you parted your dry lips open, swallowing the icy air. After a long day of work exhaustion crept up on you, and once your head hit the pillow— like a spell chanted on you, you fell asleep. Subtle chirps could be heard from outside your fogged-up window but you wouldn't notice it anyway. As your body was at rest, your mind was yoked within a dream.

The breeze howled in your ear and your legs dangling from the old wooden bridge you sat on. The moon hid behind the thick clouds, ultimately bringing darkness to surround you. The field behind you swayed in the wind, and the tall grass whispered as they shook together.

Snap

Your head spun around to the impulsive noise, and your heart dropped. From a good distance stood an old man. He was decorated with long boots and a hat that covered his face. Your eyes followed his arm, it was clenched on an object so tightly that you recognised it within a second. It was a liquor bottle.

You knew him, you knew who he was.

“Y/N,” his voice dropped and trembled, “have you seen daddy’s new bottle?”

He stomped his foot, walking over to you with rage building up inside him. Instinctively, you got up and ran straight to the empty field, your bare feet facing any prick that came along the way. You could hear his footsteps getting closer but you won’t turn your head. You will never turn your head to see him.

But you stopped in your tracks as the sight of the old man appeared in front of you again. He raised his bottle high in the air, and you cowered in fear, covering your face as he was about to strike. You shrieked waiting for the impact, but it never came. Instead, your mind felt dizzy when your eyes opened to the familiar surroundings.

Old drawings of animals were stuck on the wall, the vanity mirror was disguised with dust and there were the broken scars on a cupboard next to your old bed.

Your childhood room.

With haste, you trudged to the door to leave but it creaked shut, and darkness clouded your sight. Your hands fiddled with a butterfly lamp that was on the bedside table, and your fingers wriggled to find the switch.

The insects cried, the wind roared and something whispered. You froze at that, and your eyes followed the gap under the bed. You gulped, clenching your fist as your nails dug deep into your skin.

Nothing is there Y/N, nothing is there—

“Are you sure?” A hoarse voice rumbled and you flinched. Your heart pounded as you felt your body giving up on you. Your legs shook and they dropped to the floor as you felt yourself being dragged to the dreaded place that has practically haunted you for your whole life.

“No…” you mumbled, “Please no!”

Red eyes blinked at you, and they glinted in mischief. A snarl vibrates and a long black hand appears—claws lingering within the air before it grasps your chin, bringing your face closer to him.

“Aren't you a pretty little thing?”

You couldn't see the creature that spoke to you but you shivered at its touch. The energy was drained from your body and your mind went fuzzy. This creature’s touch left a numb feeling in your head. Void. Alone. But alone with him. Your eyes could only witness the darkness within and your hands weakly clutched onto the dirty bedsheets as you felt this creature pull you closer.

“Still scared? Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” The voice left hot words in your ear and your neck stiffened at the comment. How the fuck does it know?

With little courage, you spoke.

“What do you want from me?”

A deep chuckle erupted in the room, and the grip on your chin loosened a bit.

“My, my, this is the first question you wanted to ask me? Very well, I’ll answer honestly for you,” his other hand came to caress your cheek, “You see, I'm very picky when it comes to what type of humans I want to devour. There's just something in your soul that's very precious to me, and it would be very precious to any other creature too—“

Your hands grabbed onto the cold claws that held your face, and you tried to get out of his hold. Your breathing quickened. What did he just say? Devouring humans? You struggled futilely in his hold, your clammy palms soon gave up. The grip on your chin tensed this time, and they hushed you with ease.

“Shh, my darling. Let me continue before I let you go,” the creature hummed before proceeding, “In other words, I want you and your soul. I want to be with you forever.”

Your eyes widened at those proclamations and the claw that was settled against your cheek crawled up to your forehead.

“Now wake.”

You gasped as you jolted in your bed. Sweat stuck to the back of your shirt, your body was burning and you felt suffocated. It was just a nightmare Y/N, just a fucking nightmare. You slid off your bed and a fluffy brown tail tickled your legs. Your body hunched as you stared at your adorable cat.

“Morning Max, you need some breakfast?” The cat blinked its eyes slowly before calling out to you as it walked out of your room. You sighed, stretching as you went after your pet into the kitchen. The sun was covered by clouds and the day groaned dimly.

Max purred as you grabbed the packet of food and began to pour it into his favourite bowl. His head dived in, and tiny crunches escaped from his small mouth. You squeezed the packet in your hand, the slippery texture on your palms was still there. You tapped your foot impatiently as the remembrance of the sudden nightmare continued to dawn on you.

This didn't feel right, the nightmare felt way too realistic. And how would a monster know about your past? Maybe it was understandable, you had a traumatic childhood and your combined phobia was already monstrous. It was unsettling though, the way it grabbed your face and talked to you. Especially how you immediately felt weak by its presence..anyone would get chills from it.

Ding.

A chime vibrated from your phone as you checked it.

Rosewood Clinic: Scheduled Appointment at 9:45 am with Doctor Link. Please arrive 20 minutes earlier. If you wish to cancel or reschedule please call us at xxx-xxx-xx

Right, the appointment. You completely forgot about it, and now you have more to discuss with your doctor.

Didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?

“Daddy, can we please go to the fair today? Please?” You pouted at your father, begging him to go to the country fair.

“Alright, we’ll go. Call your mama for me?” He asked and you smiled happily as you went to get your mum.

“Mama! Mama! Guess what? Daddy said we’re going to the fair today.” You exclaimed proudly, giggling when your mother picked you up in her arms. Her hair shone in the sunlight, and she kissed your cheek softly.

“That’s great news sweetie, come on your father must be waiting.”

Your family arrived at the fair, and loud country music rang in your ears. There were multiple rides and food stalls, vibrant colours and the laughter of children brought merriment. The scent of fresh food and screams echoed in the background as you had the opportunity to roam free.

“Y/N, come here. Daddy here is gonna win a prize for you,” your father gleefully said before he resumed the challenge he had to face. You watched with big eyes as your father held small darts, his arm flexed before he threw them.

Pop

Pop

Pop

The small balloons popped and a medium teddy bear is given to your dad.

“Here ya go princess.” With a chaste kiss to your cheek you laugh, holding tight onto the teddy bear. The fun day went by fast, your father had you in his arms and you rested your head on his shoulder. The noises from the fair soon disappeared as your family inched closer to the parking lot.

“Hey there partner, it's been a while, hasn't it?”

A gruff voice spoke out from the shadows and your dad halted in his tracks. The streetlight dimmed the place an ugly yellow. You felt two arms pull you away from your dad’s grasp and you were with your mother now.

“What the hell do you want Rodrick?”

“Have you forgotten to pay your debt? Did ya get too carried away with our money?” The man named Rodrick gestured towards you and your mum, and his eyes travelled to the fair.

“Leave them out of this.”

“Give me the fucking money, I know you have it.”

“I don't have it—”

“Give me the fucking money or I’ll shoot them!”

Rodrick pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at you both. Your mother hugged you, turning your head to the side as goosebumps drove all over her.

“Hey…hey, lets talk about this okay? This is between you and me, leave my family alone,” your dad said calmly as he eyed the gun, “put the gun down Rodrick—”

“No! Do you know the shit I had to go through because of you? They beat me up and killed my brother, you think that ain't enough till they come for me? I need the money now, give me the money.”

Your dad took a step forward, his hands were in the air as he inched closer to Rodrick.

“The fuck you doing man? I said give me the money!” The gun swung to your father as he was close to grasping the object.

“Don’t come closer or I’ll shoot.” Rodrick’s hand shook and his lips trembled. He was going to die soon, he needed the money desperately.

You peeked your head to the side and saw your father lunge at the man as they both fell to the ground. They wrestle on the ground, your father trying to get the gun off of Rodrick.

“Get to the car!” Your father yelled and your mother ran with you. The sight of your father fighting gets smaller and smaller as you're close to approaching the car.

Bang

A gasp echoed in the background, like a silent serpent ready to strike before falling to its own downfall. Crows cawed and the birds flew away from nearby trees. Like a tower descending, your mother fell on top of you.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

Your head shook off the thoughts as you stared at your doctor. You had zoned out before you had realised it, and with a fake smile, you responded.

“Sorry, I—”

“It’s alright Y/N, sometimes we remember the things we don't want to see. Tell me how your week has been.”

A clock ticked in the room and you stared at the pale woman. Her black hair almost went grey as she tried to keep a straight posture.

“Um, nothing much. Just work keeping me busy, and I've been getting a couple of nightmares lately.”

The scritching of paper caught your ears as you watched Doctor Link write down the things you mentioned.

“Nightmares, I see. I assume it's still because of your father or?” A long pause was held in the air before you replied.

“Still because of my dad, which I don't know why because I stopped having them a while ago, so I thought it would stop.”

“Okay, we've discussed this before Y/N, due to the abuse and trauma you faced at a young age, the memories we've collected can sometimes—”

“Monsters too. My phobia of monsters made it worse.”

“Okay, tell me about the nightmare then.”

You squeezed your hands together, the sweat starting to form again.

“…and then I was back at that place, and there was this whispering coming from my bed. For some reason, my body just dropped and this claw grabbed onto my face. It spoke to me, saying that it wants to be with me forever..”

Scratch

Scratch

A loud sigh poured out from the doctor’s mouth, “Y/N, the phobia you have is because it was transformed by your dad. Ultimately as this is a nightmare, the things you say about this monster, are not real. It isn't real, and it’s not going to harm you. I can guarantee you that.”

You rubbed your palms together, the voice inside you wanting to rip you apart for not speaking up.

It felt real, too real.

You’re back home, frustration building up inside you. Maybe the doctor was right, it was just a nightmare. With past events and your stupid phobia, it just made you a mess. You wondered what the monster looked like, all you could see was a black void and long black hands. But you should be glad you didn’t see its face, after all, only the devil disguises its impurity.

Max is asleep on the couch, the fluff ball in a vulnerable position. You grinned at the sight of him, taking a photo. The house felt quiet since you lived alone, and that nightmare, gosh that fucking nightmare keeps haunting you like a freak.

You decided to enter your bedroom, eyes automatically clinging to the gap underneath the wooden exterior. It’s fucking childish, why would you be scared of something like a ridiculous monster?

They’re not real, they’re not supposed to be real. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you knelt, crouching and angling your head to the side to get a better glimpse of the number of things you put in there.

Just enough to block the gap, just enough to make you feel safe. It was like a shield to protect you, but little did you know that shield would come crumbling down because of you.

There were a couple of old boxes, empty perhaps, and decorative pieces to make it look messy. You kept staring at the very back endlessly, your room was dark, with the curtains drawn— you made a mistake.

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping onto your carpet thread as you swear you saw something blink at you. The house is dead, and the longer you stare at the dark end, the more you see the eyes. Though, they weren’t red this time but a dull white. Almost grey, but it blinked.

“Y/N…”

No… not now. What you heard can’t be real.

“Get the fuck out of my head,” you mumbled to yourself. A sudden urge grew deep within you, you needed something.

Wine

You needed some wine.

You jumped out of that position, drawing the curtains open to bring some light into the room. You gnawed on your thumbnail as you practically ran out of the room. You could hear your heart racing, the blood pumping faster and faster as you opened the wine cabinet.

Unscrewing the bottle, you poured a full glass, swallowing a tremendous amount of the crimson liquid as it trickled down your chin.

You sunk to the floor as you hugged your knees, your back rested against the cabinet. Fucking phobia, what Doctor Link had mentioned…. Was it true? Did this phobia happen because of your dad, or were you always just a fucking coward?

The grip on your wine glass tightened as you shut your eyes, hellish memories enveloping you like a greedy pig.

“This is all because of you!”

Slap

“Your Mother is dead because of you!”

Slap

“Get the fuck out of my sight, you keep reminding me of her. Get out before I fucking kill you.”

A bottle is thrown in your direction, and the glass stabbed into your skin makes you wobble. You felt numb, your body was bruised and battered at this point, and the blood that trickled from your forehead was damping your broken soul. When you fell with a thud, your father left, banging the doors shut.

Ironically unlike your mother, your father left you instead of running to you. Maybe there was no purpose to live anymore, you had no meaning, no goal or desire.

You should have died instead of your mother that night if you ever knew this would be the conclusion. Warm tears trailed down your face, they mixed with the blood as you stared at the ceiling.

It felt like staring at your mother, the same cold expression on her face as those tears continuously fell from her eyes before her final wheezes ceased.

Your father’s yell echoed in the background as your delicate hands cradled your mother’s soft cheeks. Except this time, there was no one to do that for you.

Your vision blurred, hoping that you would see your mother right now. It didn't matter if she appeared like a ghost, even if it sounded ridiculous.

Maybe she hated you for not taking her place. You're eyes scanned to a clock that ticked silently, and it was midnight. How much longer could you bear this?

You wanted to finally leave this hellhole. But you winced in pain, and the sound of the front doors opening made you freeze. Loud footsteps came closer as you saw your father’s dishevelled appearance.

“You’re still here?” He grunted as he plopped another box of vodka bottles onto a large table.

It was quick and painful as you felt your hair tugged upwards. Your hands weakly slapped your father’s rough wrists as he dragged you to your room upstairs.

“No, Daddy, please… I'm sorry.” Your eyes widened as he pushed you into your room, locking the doors shut. It was utterly dark, all the lights in your room were either torn apart by your father or destroyed by him.

You slid onto your bed, shielding yourself with the dirty covers as you shook. You always heard a voice whenever this happened, and one night you saw the thing that spoke to you.

It looked like a human and you caught the slightest glimpse of it before hell broke loose. Their skin glowed, and a white t-shirt was worn as they walked across your room. You remembered what he wore so well, yet you didn't remember him.

Your eyes opened as your butt began to feel sore. The glass was empty and only the stains of the red wine remained. Your body felt drained, the memories collapsed on you and you struggled to get up.

You trudged to your room quietly, closing the door shut as you crawled into your bed. Like a train coming to its last destination, your memories do the same, you don’t remember what happened after you were locked in your room.

It wasn't too long before you went back again to the realms, too bad they were interconnected.

When you trembled in your bed that night, the blood soaking the pillow, Namjoon grinned. Not because of what terrible consequence you had faced, but because he finally found a perfect person like you.

He spent years devouring the souls of many individuals but neither ever satisfied his hunger at all. He could keep as many humans as he would like, and he had the choice to not kill them. If he had you, he didn't need to waste more years to find another suitable victim.

He didn't know how he was entranced by you at first, maybe it was the way you'd brush your hair or how you tried to smile after suffering from your injuries. But you caught his eye, his heart would race whenever he saw you.

But rage took over him whenever he saw your father beat you, even though he had the power to do something, he already sensed that your father was going to be dead soon anyway.

He was really hungry that night, starving himself on purpose just so he could get a taste of your sweet soul, consume the euphoric feeling of your fear so he felt energised enough to convince you to stay with him.

But would you?

He didn’t mean to go overboard, he just really needed to have a bit of your soul. It wasn’t going to harm you any way and he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he needs to live too.

The sudden harsh whispers and calls of your name made you shiver and Namjoon watched in delight. He needed to transform and watch your beautiful expressions fall into place.

Oh, it was terrible, terribly good.

“Sweetie….my baby, Y/N?” You stiffened at the familiar feminine voice that came from underneath your bed. It couldn't be true, your mother was dead. But… did she listen to your prayers to God?

Hesitantly you replied, “Mama? Is that you?” Your voice shook as you waited for a response.

“My darling, why didn't you save me? Look at how miserable your father is.” Her voice wavered in the air and you swore you could feel her presence right beside you. Her words scarred into your mind, this didn’t sound like her at all.

Without hesitation, you pulled the covers off of you in a rush, and your heart dropped at the sight of darkness in front of you. Your mother was not here, then how the hell did you hear her voice?

“Y/N…?” You froze and your breaths started to become quick. You glanced down from the side of your bed, the voice was coming from there. Your knuckles were tense and white when you gripped your blanket, there’s no fucking way.

Silence clouded your sense of hearing as a long black claw stretched out from underneath the bed, its nails scratched the wooden floor before it rushed back.

Your breath hitched as you felt a cold exhale next to your ear. You bit your bottom lip harshly, chewing on the spot as you craned your neck slowly. Your pulse quickened when you saw the figure.

Their eyes glimmered in the dark and you gasped, an audible yell for help prepared to leave from your throat.

But he lunged at you, one inhuman hand pinning your wrists tightly above your head while the other was clamped over your mouth.

Your screams were muffled by his long black claws as you writhed underneath him. His demonic form took over, and red eyes blinked into yours as he watched your head snap upwards. His red eyes stared at you with adoration, God you were so cute. He shushed you softly as he wiped your tears.

“If I let go, promise you won't scream?”

You calmed yourself down a bit as he removed his hand away from your mouth. He delicately traced your quivering lips, grinning at the sight of your compliance.

“I know you're scared sweetheart, but you need to be a good girl for me, yeah? I've been watching over you for a while now, and you're such a good person. But you need someone, a bit of healing and protection to make you feel less lonely. I've come to offer that, I'll heal you and protect you in exchange for a bit of your soul.”

This thing had been watching you? For how long?

The grip on your wrists loosened momentarily as he leaned closer to you. Your eyes scanned its features—if you removed the black claws and the red eyes, it almost looked human.

“But the thing is, you have no say in this anyway. I nearly killed myself because of you, starving to death to finally have you. Don't you feel guilty? Making a poor monster like me wait for a long time to taste your soul?”

Namjoon wanted you to feel bad, and miserable for him. He chuckled softly, you were a monster too for making him suffer like that.

You felt your body sink into the mattress further, wrists weakly wriggling in his iron-grip hold.

“I just need you to listen to me, and everything will be okay.”

He grabbed your cheeks, squeezing them harshly so you could open your lips.

“Come on baby, open wide for me,” he murmured and he pushed one claw deep inside your open mouth.

You gagged repeatedly as you felt it go down your throat, and your mind fogged with pain. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, your lungs restricting any oxygen to escape. It hurt for a split second like something was being removed from your body entirely. It was solid and rough with jagged edges, your throat started to burn as panic settled in.

You couldn’t breathe.

You watched the thing turn more demonic, and it hovered over you as you helplessly felt too tired and weak to even do anything at this point. Your eyes blurred as you felt suffocated, and your heart pumped wildly.

Your mouth was wide open as you exhaled a heavy breath and a clear cloud-like bubble came out. The claw was soon withdrawn and you gasped for air.

You thought it was over, heck no, you thought it was fake. But he was still here, right in front of you. Black hair covered its demonic look as it devoured the bubble in one go.

You froze in fear, tears falling from your face as it looked at you.

“Such a sweet soul,” he murmured before lowering his face, “would you mind if I had more?”

Before you could even protest or utter a scream, you felt his dangerous hands crawl up your thigh, his sharp claws piercing through your skin lightly. It burned with every stroke, and you whimpered. His touch was numbing your mind, but you could still feel the pain ripping through you.

“Shh, be a good girl for me,” his hand wrapped around your throat, “and don’t fucking scream.”

You felt his cold lips on yours, his claws continued with their marks as they neared your chest. You realised too late that not only was your mind numb, but your body was paralysed. You couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t do anything to escape from this hell.

Your fingertips twitched when he shoved his tongue inside your mouth, and his claws finally reached the centre of your stomach.

At first, it was like multiple thumbtacks were piercing your body that soon felt like large knives sinking inside of you. Your eyes widened when you saw his sharp claws press into your stomach, the blood escaping as almost half of his hand was inside. You felt your insides twisting as a muffled, hoarse scream erupted from your mouth and Namjoon swallowed it all, pressing even deeper.

He was sucking the life out of you, his claws finally grasping onto a bit of your soul. His kiss was a form of intimacy, but it was much easier to consume your fear like this.

Mind numb, body paralysed, all under his control as he shamelessly sucked more of your already broken soul. It almost felt like you were dying. Once he removed his bloody claws, your teary-eyed expression remained as he finally removed himself from you.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

The soft breeze cooled your body as you sat on a rock, watching the waves crash into the shorelines. It felt peaceful, magical almost. The high view of the far distance between the sea, and the cliff was pretty high too.

He could sense you. He could feel the happiness radiating from you once he stepped into the dream realm. Namjoon successfully got to get rid of the angels that were guarding the entrance of their world.

He must admit that the bright colours of this place were oddly fascinating. Light pink hues dusted with white clouds and scenery? Wow, it was nothing compared to the nightmare world. Nothing.

Namjoon’s land was far more different and special. It was like an abandoned location with monsters lurking around in the shadows. Thunderstorms were constant and daily, the sky as grey as a rock.

Ever since the Lord of Demons was able to break the barrier between the two realms, it has made easier access for any creature to be able to snatch their victims while they were dreaming.

They were ruthless, and greedy and had unimaginable appearances that would make your heart stop. Even if there were Guardian Angels, protecting their realm— demons like Namjoon were always able to come through discretely.

He wondered if he were able to glitch into your world so that he could easily have you to himself. Those sleep paralysis demons were extremely lucky.

He reminisces about the first time he got to taste your soul. You wouldn't understand the emotions that rushed through his body, he felt so high around you that the moment he stepped away after decorating your body crimson—he could only think about you.

With the recent interaction of finally getting to you after a narrow escape from the Guardian Angels, Namjoon felt relieved.

It almost broke his heart when you tried to escape from his grasp that day, his claws menacingly trying to provoke a reaction out of you.

He thought you would have recalled instantly ever since the first night he devoured a bit of your soul and left you with deep gushed marks of his claim on you. He didn't want to show himself deliberately because he thought you would know. That you would recognise him.

Maybe your father hit your head a bit too hard with the metal bat in the barn after he saw the medical bills.

The next day he watched alongside you. He watched the way your father hung from a big tree, the noose around his neck was stout and it was perfectly wrapped around his neck like a present.

Namjoon noticed the dead look in your eyes and a deranged smile crept up on your face.

You and he were a match made in heaven.

Namjoon could see you from afar, the way your body relaxed in this realm… if you could only do the same in his one. He quietly approached you, silently sitting next to you as his fingertips brushed your hand.

You flinched at the subtle contact and you snapped your head, eyes scanning the unknown person.

He looked familiar, with black hair and a white shirt, you swear you've seen someone like that before.

“Who are you?” You stared at the gorgeous man in front of you, his dragon eyes alluring you.

“We met before.” His voice drifted silkily into your ears.

“We did? Uhm, what's your name?” You responded as you thought hard about where you last saw him.

“I'm Namjoon, and you're Y/N.” A pang hit your stomach, how did he know your name?

“How do you know my name?”

“Like I said, we met before.” His voice almost felt recognisable, did you actually meet this man before?

Namjoon sighed, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s such a shame you don't remember me, do I really have to remind you?”

Your lips almost twitched into a frown, you didn't like the way he was staring at you.

“Listen—”

“Didn’t Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”

Your eyes widened and your breath shook, “what did you just say?”

“I said didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?” Namjoon repeated the words deliberately and slowly as he smiled. Your mind went into a frenzy, and your pulse quickened. It was him, the creature that constantly grew your fear.

You get up quickly, and he does too, the next words making you sick in the stomach.

“Were the claws too much? You know I was sorry, I would never hurt you love, it's part of the process for me to live for your soul.”

You began to walk backwards, his words hammering you like a nail. After all these years, the monster that tormented you so badly that your phobia was initially created was here, right in front of you. You finally saw his face. Innocent like an angel, but a devil within the heart.

“Do you remember now? Do you remember the way I had your soul? Shit, your dad knocked you out so hard that after this many years, you finally remember me.”

You stopped in your tracks, your head turning to the side when you realised you were on the edge of a cliff. Out of nowhere, grabbing onto your shoulders, Namjoon’s voice echoed and rang in your ears.

“Don’t leave me, you can’t forget about me again.”

“I won’t leave you alone like your father did, isn’t it good riddance that he killed himself?” There’s no way he’s been with you this whole time.

He pushed you back gently, each wavering step making you sick in the stomach.

“I want to stay with you forever,” he rested his head on your shoulder and you flinched, “you're a precious person to me, you make me feel better that I can have you, in any way I want.” You jerked, trying to elude from his iron-tight grip.

“I love you Y/N, I'm hopelessly in love with you.”

His words come crashing down as you lose your step right at the end of the cliff. You screamed as you felt a hand snatch your wrist. You gripped onto Namjoon’s wrist, your life depending on it. You weren't sure why he wasn't pulling you up—

He chuckled deeply, “Stupid girl, did you forget that you're in a dream? If I let go of you right now, do you think you're going to wake up or drown?” He cruelly stared down at you as he held your wrist.

He kneeled so you were face to face, “But I think it'd be much better if we fell together, don't you think?”

Your eyes broadened at the statement, blood rushing to your head. You shook your head, you pleaded at him,

“Namjoon, wait don't do this—”

Ignoring your words, you felt him let go of you as he jumped off the cliff. You watched him fall as your back hit the icy ocean, the water already trying to engulf your throat.

You jolted awake, shuddering from the nightmare you had just faced. Your back was wet with sweat, and as you were sitting up…

Thud.

Someone grabbed your neck from behind, feeling invisible hands wrapped around your throat. Your head hit the pillow again as you struggled to get up. He was holding you down, there's no way he came like this without a dream.

You claw at your neck, shutting your eyes when you suddenly see yourself back in the ocean. You could feel the water getting into your lungs, and someone had gripped your ankle. You saw Namjoon pulling you deeper and deeper into the abyss as you cried for help, words muffled by the water.

You opened your eyes and they started to blur. Panic grew as your heart pumped, feeling the dreaded emotion you never wanted to experience again. You couldn't breathe, it was like your oxygen was being sucked away.

You wriggled your body to grab anything and your hands stretched to whatever was on the nightstand. You couldn't see but your hands tapped on the lamp that was facing your way, and a ray of light burst.

Within a second, the feeling of invisible hands disappeared and you rolled over, choking as you threw up… water. Lots of water.

You groaned weakly as you heaved your breaths. The door to your bedroom was wide open and the hallway was extremely dark. You needed to get out. You shakily looked through the drawers and found a small torch. Turning it on you left your room to look for your cat, calling his name.

“Max! Max, where are you—”

You came to a halt, and your knees almost buckled.

“Isn’t he adorable?” His voice made your bottom lip quiver. You shook your head, tears rushing to your eyes. You couldn't believe this, there he was, sitting on your couch next to your cat. Namjoon turned to look at you and his eyes were black, a murderous intent glinted from the look on his face.

“You can't run away from me, ever.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s gone and silence filled up the whole house. Max then hissed as his eyes darted behind your shoulder. Your heart sank when you realised who he was hissing at.

An external force threw you back to your room, causing you to shriek. Your back hit the wall, knocking the breath out of you. The door slammed shut and you staggered in pain and your eyes flickered to the lamp. A hushed whisper attained your ear as you heard a crack and the light died out.

It was too dark in your room, and you luckily had the torch in your hand. You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. What about the windows? You rush over to the other side of the room, and your hands draw the curtain open only to come to a sight with no window. You almost drop your torch as you bite your lip.

It was just a solid wall.

“No—fuck, why—” Your voice croaked as you slammed your fist against the wall. Soon you realised why the house was so dark and why the lamp broke. Does he hate light? The thought lingered on your mind till you heard a shuffle from across the room. You swayed your torch to the side and held your breath as there was nothing there.

A low growl could be heard from under the bed as you shone the light there. All of the things you placed to block the gap were gone. Impossible, fuck your mind was going crazy. The light on your torch began to blink repeatedly, and you smacked the torch a couple of times.

“No, no no, don't die.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you managed to keep the light until it flickered one last time. Your breath affixed as there was complete darkness, and you gulped.

Screech.

Warm tears sprang free from the corner of your eyes and you quivered in place.

He was going to get you, he was going to get you, he was going to get you.

Maybe you should check the door again, just in case. Even before you could react, Namjoon’s lengthy, black claw snatched onto your ankle, yanking you in fast.

Your screams echoed as you disappeared the moment you were dragged underneath the bed. Your eyes opened to an unknown place, but it was still dark. Your body ached with every movement you tried to muster.

Namjoon appeared in front of you, his demeanour frightening you as he used his claws to turn your head to the side. A dim yellow light glinted in the dark ahead of you and you couldn't believe what you were witnessing.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Did you check the bed? I think I saw a boy my age last night.”

A small laugh vibrated from your father’s throat as he crouched down at your request. He got back up, caressing your cheek.

“Come on sweetie, didn't Daddy teach you enough to not be afraid of monsters?”

Click.

The lights turned off and the door closed shut. It was dark again.

Namjoon shifted around as you felt him lay down next to you, wrapping one arm around your waist tightly and the other still holding your face in place. He could feel your heart pounding furiously as his claw began to recreate the same process when he had you for the first time.

Your mind started to go fuzzy and your body went numb and his claw crawled closer to your mouth.

Namjoon whispered into your ear, and his heart grew at the sight of finally having you to himself, “You know, you shouldn’t fear the monsters that are under your bed, you should fear those that hide under your pillow and crawl into your head.”

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

"Where are you going? Look, the Titans needs us-"

"Fuck them, Rose. Fuck all of you"

"Jason, please! Where are you gonna go?? We can figure something out!"

When Jason left with Rose out of Gotham City, you were heartbroken. You kept a one-sided love hidden, thinking it would be too selfish to confess your feelings to him while he's in an unstable state of self hatred. But when Dick revealed that he killed Deathstroke's son just moments after you managed to get Jason to step away from the ledge, you almost let your secret slip when Jason was swiftly packing his things as you begged him to stay.

"Figure what out, Y/N? Huh? Why are you even staying? Almost everyone is leaving anyway, and Dick is just a liar," Jason argued, stuffing his duffle bag with whatever clothes he could find.

"Because the Titans are the only family I have! At least Gar is staying. But you don't have to leave, Jay"

"And why shouldn't I? There's nothing for me here. Everyone hates me, hell, even you probably hate me. You only got me off the roof out of pity"

"That's not true, Jason."

"Then why else would you?!"

"Because I-" You quickly stop yourself, knowing things would only become worse if your feelings were revealed. So you took a deep breath and took a second to calmed down.

"Because you're my friend, Jay. One of the best friends I ever had. And I don't want you to leave," you say quietly.

Jason stared at you for a couple of seconds before taking your hand in his. "Then come with us. You don't have to do everything Dick tells you to anymore, no more lies, no more half truths."

You sighed, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Yeah, I don't think I like the idea of third wheeling you and Rose," you try to joke, but your heart actually aching at the thought. "But seriously, I don't think leaving is a good idea, especially with Deathstroke around. And being alone with his daughter, I mean-"

"Wait, what you don't trust her or something?" Jason interrupts you, taking slight offence.

"I'm just saying to be cautious, Jason. I mean, Deathstroke already kidnapped you once and-"

"And what? You think Rose is working with him? Jesus Christ, and I thought I was fucked up," He scoffs. "Y'know, Rose admired that I made it out alive from her dad. I managed to make it out alive, and you still think I'm weak?"

"Jason, I never said that!-"

"Nah, fuck this, you're just like everyone else here," Jason says, zipping his bag close and storming out the room.

"Jason!" You tried calling out, just for him to ignore.

-

"What, was it part of Daddy's training to fuck me this whole time?!" Jason yells at Rose. "I'm done with this shit," he says, grabbing his bag, starting to leave the home the two raided.

Rose quickly grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Look, none of this was supposed to happen. It just did," she tries to tell him, but he ignores her, tearing his arm away from her grip.

"Get the fuck off me." He cries, and as if by reflex, Rose strikes a punch at him, blood quickly falling down his now broken nose.

"C'mon! Fight me! You know you want to!" She says in desperation.

Jason sends a cold stare. "Are we done?" She doesn't reply, tears building up in her eye. "We're done," he says, walking towards the door as Rose cries.

"Where are you going? Look the Titans needs us!" She calls out to him as he reaches the door.

"Fuck them, Rose. Fuck all of you," he replies, finally walking out the door with only one thing on his mind.

You.

He hailed the first cab he could find, telling the driver to head back to Gotham City.

All he could think about was how stupid he was to you. You were right, and he just left you like you were nothing. You saved him, and he treated you like dirt. You said he was your friend, and he abandoned you.

He rushed out the taxi after paying the driver, running up to the small apartment you were living at. You spent most of your time in Titan's Tower, but went back to your place when you wanted to be fully alone.

Your apartment was only big enough for one person, granted there were ants here and there, and a little mould growing in some places, but you saw it as your own place.

Jason knocked on your door three times, followed by a call of your name. He knocked again, a little louder, and a little more desperate. What if you weren't home? He couldn't go back to Titans Tower, he wasn't ready to see everyone else.

When no one answered, his shoulders slumped, and was about to walk away.

But your door opened, and you appeared on the other side, rubbing your red eyes with a fluffy blanket draped over your shoulders and your hair running wild as it was tangled and bunched all over the place.

"Jesus, who died," you say groggily, having not registered who knocked on your door.

Jason's eyes brightened as he returned to the front of your door.

"Y/n.." He softly called out. You stopped rubbing your eyes as you looked up at him, eyes widening as you couldn't believe Jason was standing right in front of you.

"Jason.." You replied, not knowing what to say. "How have you- uhm.. D'you wanna come in?" You awkwardly offered, Jason nodding as you stepped aside for him to walk in.

You directed him towards the couch. "Uh.. do you want something to drink or..."

"No." Jason quickly replies. "I- I just needa talk to you."

You nod, walking over to sit beside him on the couch.

"So.."

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at you with those glassy eyes. "You were right. Rose was spying on me, working with Deathstroke, you were right. I should've listened to you, I should've stayed. Just- just say I told you so and-"

You interrupted Jason by lunging towards him, blanket falling off as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'm so glad you're back," you said, your voice muffled.

Jason sits there in shock, slowly wrapping his arms around your middle. "You- You're not mad?"

You pull away, "Why would I be mad?" You ask, hands boldly reaching up to hold his face.

"Why wouldn't you be! I treated you like shit! I didn't listen to you, then I just left! How could not hate me?" He says in an outburst.

All you do is sigh and look away.

"What? What is it?" Jason asks.

"It's because I love you, Jay," you finally confess. Jason's eyes widened and was left speechless. All he could do was lean closer as his gaze shift down to your lips.

You lightly chuckle as you olace a hand against his chest to stop him.

"Stop. You're only doing that because of guilt," You say.

But Jason shakes his head. "No. No, I don't believe I am," he replies. "You've no idea how much I wanted this. Ever since you joined the team, I promise you."

You sighed. "Listen, you just parted ways with Rose, I don't actually think you-"

"A chance," he interrupts. "Give me a chance to show you how much I care for you. How much I feel the same for you. Take you out on dates, give you flowers, whatever. Just a chance, and if you still don't believe it, fine, I leave you be. But a chance is all I beg for."

You look down at your fiddling fingers, eyebrows furrowed, wondering whether or not he's telling the truth.

"One chance," you say. "One chance and one chance only. If you screw this up, then that's that."

Yeah I didn't really know how to finish it off, like I had the idea for the start but didn't know how to make the rest of the story so its pretty shit, but at the same time, its 2am so whatevah

Jason smiles, bringing you in for a tight embrace. "You won't regret it, I promise you, mama."

[throwaway-yandere]

Worksheets (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: What's this, Ansy? Planning on two Alhaitham fics??? Are you not loyal to Dain or Ayat– Speak not, my comrade. Don't tell me that the new Archon Quest wasn't delectable lmao. Also, today was the first time I got a tip, and I??? I've never known happiness quite like that. I'm crying. I will remember you forever, "mommy milkers", I'll dedicate this fic to you ;;-;; (I'm pretty sure I know who you are "*chomp* *chomp*" but that name is entertaining lmao.) On another note, kinda loved how this fic turned out and this is prolly the closest thing I'll ever write to a "lime" lmao.

Unreliable Synopsis: (Student!Alhaitham era) Studying 20 languages is quite an exhausting task. It's a great thing Alhaitham is eager to help his "study buddy".

Cw: yandere themes, implied drugging and non/dubcon. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to the content mentioned. Your mental health matters.

—--------

Alhaitham, like you, is not the type to strike up an amusing discussion while he has a book in his hands. So he laid down his book and decided to take yours as well.

As Akademiya students, you are both bound by a single, exhausting clearance requirement: master 20 languages before graduation. So far, you think you're passable at best on writing romanized Inazuman script and laughable at worst on pronouncing proper Liyue intonations. You can already count yourself as one of the many students that won't see the light of employment next year, but Alhaitham won't let you sulk so readily.

"Time's up. You're done, right?"

He slid the textbook off the table and began flipping through your work.

You didn't reply. Instead, you felt the weight of your head on both palms. It's not that you're unable to reply. You just don't want to admit how illiterate you are in foreign linguistics.

"(Y/n), look at me when I'm speaking."

"I accept my fate." You muttered, soundly defeated. And then, you let yourself rest on the table. "Here lies (Y/n) (L/n). May they finally learn how to pronounce 印 properly in the afterlife."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes.

"Should I help send you off to Aaru Village? Want a proper goodbye from your old study buddy?"

"That would be quite nice, yes."

"Sure. I'll be happy to do that." He stopped flipping through the pages and focused all his attention on you. "If you started acting hysterical and destructive. But you're not. You're just miserable and reserved."

"Thanks for that wonderful assessment, Professor Alhaitham. I'm sure studying neurophilosophy helped you come up with that conclusion. Oh, your brilliance never ceases to surprise me!"

Alhaitham chuckled. His chuckles are almost always short-lived and 100% condescending. 

"(Y/n), language is simply not your forte. But you do wonders in mathematics since we are almost on the same level."

You glared, finally meeting his gaze.

"Must you always brag about yourself whenever you try to cheer me up?"

"Hmm?"

"Lord Kusanali– don't tell me you haven't noticed that about yourself…"

He lightly smacked your head with your textbook. You winced, exaggerating your pain.

"Our conversation isn't about me, it's you. Now, enlighten me, how on earth did you manage to mistake Snezhnayan scripts in a Liyue assignment?"

"E-Eh?!"

You snatched your book back.

"Holy shit. You're right."

You may not like beer, the first time you drank one it tasted funny, but at that moment you decided that once exams are over you're going to get completely inebriated.

Alhaitham watched you reread your work and fondly memorized the way your eyebrows knitted and your eyes skimming through the pages. Your fingers gripped that book as if your life depended on it. That might as well be true knowing your passion for your degree, but he simply wished you will spare part of that zeal for him.

He used to study alone until you showed up. Freshman year was brutal and unkind, but when you insisted on becoming his partner the world had taken on a vibrant hue. Alhaitham never asked for a partner, but your proposal was enticing that he had to say yes. He lied and said he merely wanted to see where this would lead him before, but now he is proud to say he did not regret that decision. It's a shame that your persuasive techniques do not work well with complex Liyue scripts, if they did you would've aced these tests.

"Ugghhh... I hope I get buried raw so I wouldn't have to worry about funeral expenses too..."

Alhaitham did not mind that he's helping you work on your quote-unquote "bane of existence." Students at the Akademiya sometimes fear group work, but he's not one of them. He hopes for one in each subject should it entail that you'll be beside him. Should the assignment be on a frost-prickling mountain, he still wouldn't hesitate to tag along if it meant sharing his cloak and warmth with you. Alhaitham doubts he cares about any other factors. As a friend and intellectual collaborator, you've become irreplaceable.

That's why he won't let you fall behind.

"Chin up." He patted your head like you would a cat. 

"H-Huh?"

"I said chin up," Alhaitham spoke, uncharacteristically soft. "I'll be right here beside you until we graduate."

You smiled, not at all comforted but grateful for the gesture. You sat up straight. "Thanks, Haitham."

When given the option to either comfort or critique, Alhaitham doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. This small moment made you happy. Back then, he used to be rather cold and skilled at getting you off his life. You subconsciously began to grin. Your friend Lisa was right, he softens when he's with you–

"Which is why I'll be sending you additional practice sheets for you to work on," Alhaitham added bluntly, his words dropping like a hammer. "I'm not letting you play games until you perfect writing these scripts."

Your eyes stared coldly back at him.

Nevermind. Forget it. He's the same as he had always been.

"Way to ruin the moment, Future Grand Scribe."

—----

Three days have passed and it's the last day of your dreaded linguistics exams.

Well, that sounds more significant than what it is. It's the last day of ALHAITHAM'S MOCK EXAMS, which is what it actually is, but you can't help but feel nervous as you would in a real graded performance. He takes practice exercises and their punishments very seriously. Last time was just a surprise quiz, so the intensity differed greatly.

Alhaitham took a seat at an adjacent table. He was amusingly dressed in a pair of glasses and an Akademiya professor uniform. You'd mock him for believing in you when you claimed you wanted the exam to be as immersive as possible, but his execution is far too effective for your liking. For crying out loud, he even received the alchemy professor's signed permission to borrow his room!

"For your last test, you need to translate this Liyue text back to Sumeru scripts. I'll give you… 30 minutes for this." He said, adjusting his timer. 

Alhaitham cast a sidelong glance at you, pretending not to see your apprehension. His fingers lingered over the reset and split buttons.

"Are you ready?" 

You felt your palms beginning to sweat.

"S-Sure."

He didn't care what your answer was– no professor would ever wait for a student. Alhaitham flipped the test paper to its front page.

"Timer starts now."

Nervously, you picked up your pen and paper and started reading. Alhaitham left the timer on top of the table and went back to drinking his cup.

Alright, here we go.

Decoding it was simple, at first. The start felt like a canned script for a traditional romantic light novel. You translated the messages back to your native tongue. Then, things started to become a bit complicated.

'I've decided to be entirely honest and truthful in this letter, so I'll start from the very beginning. I used to despise you.'

Your nose scrunched, amused. What an introduction. You pointed your pen in his direction.

"Is our friendship over, Haitham?"

He glared. "Quit talking. 29 minutes and 38 seconds–"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

'But you were so relentless that I couldn't help but cave in. Who wouldn't? You're personable and you share my beliefs about research autonomy. It's difficult to find someone who is an expert at both. You'd know that best.'

'It's pitiful that I can't handle the notion of losing you once this is finished.  Many people do not consider me to be empathic and they frequently misinterpret my lack of emotional expression as a lack of empathy. But you've always been so accepting of me.'

'It's a shame that you left me when morning came. I've never felt solitude quite like that wake-up call.'

You grimaced as you continued to read the rest of the paragraphs. Whoever wrote this must be seriously lovelorn and obsessed because they wrote as if they've hopelessly known that their affections will remain unreciprocated beyond half a decade. 

The author went on to describe how they had watched their beloved enjoy their life blissfully ignorant of the misery they had caused him. Given that Alhaitham creates everything by hand, the stark contrast between the material and his precise letterings does nothing to express the writer's frantic confession.

'I can't get the thought of you out of my mind. It's exhilarating. I've never been this stimulated before I met you.'

'I need you, even after our partnership is over.'

You can't get over how, in Alhaitham's fine handwriting, the author gradually spiraled from unrequited love to an obsession that can't be helped.

'You have qualities that no one else possesses. Traits that I want in a lifelong companion. You taught me things I didn't know I wanted for myself. And you are on top of that list.'

'As you're probably aware, you do have a guardian angel. I sometimes answer your assignments for you. Every morning, I pay for your coffee and leave sticky notes in case you overlook your deadlines. These are all unpaid acts of kindness, but they make me feel like I'm laying a better foundation for a relationship with you.'

'I admit, I don't mind following you around like an affectionate dog every now and then. Your schedule is predictable. You even handed me a duplicate with your new phone number on it. It's both pleasant and difficult for me to watch you from a distance, but what else can I do? Everyone knows I'm rather socially inept for this to play out as smoothly as I'd hope so I had to stoop to this method.'

'At least I learned not to break doors this time."

'Once we both graduate, I might not be able to see you again in my life. We will no longer work together as much as we did before. I wouldn't be able to see you laugh or make excuses just to touch you. I like being near you. Even if you consider me as a one-night stand. Even if you consider me as your biggest mistake.'

You looked at Alhaitham with a face that ridiculed his choice of picking this creepy excerpt. He didn't so much as move and continued sitting at the table, staring at you robotically calm.

You hope this Liyue person has already been apprehended by the Millelith.

You resumed deciphering after deciding to trust whatever bizarre letter Alhaitham had assigned to you. You were beginning to feel sorry for the person Alhaitham obtained the love letter from and its intended recipient... You wouldn't be astonished if Alhaitham pulled this letter from the hands of a mad scholar and deemed it a worthy linguistics exercise.

'You're mine and you will learn to love me. I've already decided on that.'

'I'm sure that declaration is bound to scare you, but I genuinely meant it. I can understand if you react violently. I wouldn't hate you if you tried to contact the authorities, but just know that eremites are useless against me.'

You scowled. Perhaps your study companion wanted you to be wholly aware that translating is not an easy task. If so, you're impressed by his dedication. You'd never read a letter like this again.

Then it got worse.

'That's why I need to take control again.'

'I need you to open your eyes– I need you to know that without me, you cannot survive in a world beyond academics.'

'You need me just as much as I need you, too.'

'So when will you invite me back to Dorm 569?'

You stopped reading and you felt the clip of your pen snap. 

Slowly, you turned the paper to its back. Your eyes were glued to the table, unable to look at your study partner's face.

"Alhaitham…" You laughed sheepishly. "Do… Do you have to go above and beyond writing such a… personal sounding example? You know, the Akademiya doesn't allow plagiarism—especially when it's a creepy love letter."

Being batch-mates with Alhaitham, you're well aware of his eccentricities. And being batch-mates with you helps him pretend that there's nothing creepy about knowing a few minor details too.

But this is… is not one of them.

Alhaitham placed his mug down and began to peek through your worksheets behind you.

"Five minutes left, I'm guessing you're on the last paragraph?" He spoke as if your concerns were nonexistent.

"Of course I'm on the damn last paragraph!!!"

You immediately covered your mouth, looking around the room if you had disturbed others, before being staunchly reminded that you are alone. With him.

It's like reading a horror story at home alone on the weekends. The setting is safe, you trust Alhaitham, but your heart is restless.

Dorm 569. 

It's your dorm number but it's not an innocent suggestion if– when it comes from him. The implication was sinister and cruel. There is a historical context that vastly changes the flow of this conversation. A context that you don't want to address plainly.

"This is just a joke, right?" You gulped dryly. Despite your treacherous nerves, you made a joke. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Alhaitham steadily reduced the gap between you two by holding your chair with both hands. Before you could realize it, he had already closed off all means of escape. You felt his breathing brush against you. Every inch of your body begged for a sprint as his green-orange eyes peered through your soul, calculating as they had always been.

You need to leave.

"You're going to brush off the rest of what you've read and focus on such a minor detail? You're not going to ask if I have feelings for you like a normal person?"

His breath smelled like coffee.

"I would if this fucking letter sounded anywhere close to normal!" You yell-whispered.

You combed your hair back with your fingers, feeling your entire body shaken by his implied agreement. 

"Shit, Alhaitham… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell your ears out– I'm just a bit…" You laughed, sinking your weight on the chair's cross rail but he inched closer, maintaining the distance you had before. "Moved? I'm so bad at vocab, is that the word? Yeah, moved by that love letter, I suppose."

"Don't be sarcastic. You're frightened."

You scoffed.

"D-Duh, making jokes is a coping mechanism. Something you wouldn't relate to, I know."

He didn't move from his position.

You breathed in sharply. "What?"

"You still haven't asked."

"Asked what?"

"If I like you romantically."

"W-Well, you still haven't answered me either."

"Answered what?"

"... Is it true? Are you stalking me?"

He did not hesitate to answer. "In a sense, yes."

What…?

Your stomach flipped at his nonchalant reply. He tilted your chin up. The short distance between you two began to diminish as you felt Alhaitham's hair against your cheek.

"How else would I know your dorm number if I didn't, right?"

You slapped his hand away. "You know what I meant. This isn't funny at all. Please answer me seriously."

"I thought you think of me as a guardian angel. You wanted the truth and I gave you my thoughts." Alhaitham pressed. 

You don't want to believe it.

You don't want to acknowledge that it was someone you trusted who forced you to bed.

"I am stalking you. Tell me– who else would've fucked you senseless that night? Go on, tell me, (Y/n)."

But you knew deep down that it was him.

You shoved him off, but he was stronger than you are. You've seen him in action, he did not lie when fighting eremites are child's play to him. You're his study partner, and you, unfortunately, know him best as he stated in that letter.

Dorm 569. That night was a blur and you've changed rooms since then. Another student, Soraya, began living in your old room. You couldn't bear to visit and see how the freshman was doing. 

You never actively seek parties, and Alhaitham was the same. But one night, you both decided to finally experience the infamous "college life" by attending one. Your brain refused to unfold everything that transpired. Pieces of your conversations occasionally resurface, but they're all mundane yet bitter. Retracing your steps had a major discrepancy from drinking beer to waking up in your dorm with a broken door.

Nothing explained why your study partner was naked beside you, lovingly caressing your hair.

"Were you fantasizing about another man? One of our seniors, perhaps? Are you one of those people who get off on unbalanced relationship dynamics?" 

There was no explanation as to why you woke up screaming. 

And there were no words spoken about it the next time you bumped into each other.

He never mentioned it again.

And you foolishly thought that was the end of it.

"S-Stop…"

"If not our old seniors…  Was it our Ethics professor?"

Your heart dropped.

Alhaitham laughed. His usually calm green-orange eyes that soothed you swirled with what you assumed was jealousy and self-loathing. Two emotions you have not seen before, or at least, did not acknowledge.

You both knew you were scared to face reality. But he doesn't want to play these mind games any longer. Alhaitham already decided on it. You will recall everything. 

His grip on your chin tightened. 

"It's him, correct? I won't forget the way you moaned 'Sir' when I pulled your hair. If I wasn't confident, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid pair of glasses and uniform just to woo you."

You could no longer speak. Alhaitham took it as permission to do anything he wants with you. Just like that night.

His lengthy fingers pinched your inner thigh.

"Then again, I don't think I can keep acting like him. Spiking a drink would be in his list of unforgivable actions I'm sure."

You trembled.

"Still won't answer, (Y/n)? Or would you prefer I call you Mx. (L/n)?"

Alhaitham scoffed, grinning.

"You don't have to answer. We have the classroom all to ourselves to test that hypothesis."

[7-wonders]

Between Wrath and Mercy

Sith!Ankain Skywalker x Rebel!reader (gender-neutral)

Summary: Finding yourself in a fight with Darth Maul, you quickly realize that you're way out of your depth. Unfortunately, no one's coming to save you. Aha, unless?

Word Count: 2.0k

A note from the author: Remember how I was like, "I'm having a lot of trouble writing the words aren't coming like they used to"? I think this helped to unclog a bit of the writer's block I've had. Maybe I just need to write for a different fandom for a bit. This takes place in my Rebel!reader fic-verse (gender-neutral reader!), but before What You Stand to Lose. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (especially the latter two), and I hope you enjoy!

How do I keep ending up in situations like this? you wonder as you dodge yet another Sith Lord’s lightsaber strike and immediately counter it with your own.

That’s a stupid question, because you know how. You decided to join the Rebel Alliance, to fight for a noble cause, and now your life is pretty consistently put in mortal danger. Still, when a mission to try and convince the head of Crimson Dawn that you were all fighting for the same goal was proposed, you were the first to volunteer. Maybe it’s a desperation to prove yourself as useful that made you do it, or maybe you need to remind yourself that you’re working for something good. Regardless, you had been stupid and self-assured, enough so that General Kessyk had given you a small team to command and sent you on your way to Corellia.

Said small team is now incapacitated, rendered useless almost the moment you had ambushed the Crimson Dawn leader who had turned out to be none other than Darth Maul—a surprise to you all, since Dryden Voss is the public face of the syndicate. This revelation completely turned your game plan on its head, as you’re now left to face his wrath alone.

And he has a lot of wrath.

“Look, if you would just listen for a moment,” you yell at him over the sound of electricity humming, “I think you would see that we all want the same thing!”

“And what thing is that?” Darth Maul snarls, raising his blade above his head and attempting to crash it down on top of you.

You meet it with your own, gritting your teeth under the strain as you attempt to hold him back. “The end of the Galactic Empire!”

He bears down harder in response, and your arms begin to shake. Knowing when to give up some yield is half the success in battle, so you adjust your strategy and drop to your knees, doing a quick roll to get some space in between you. He turns to face you once more, his yellow eyes so filled with hatred that it makes a frightened whimper get stuck in your throat.

“Please, we only came to talk. We can be allies!” you plead.

“What happens after the Empire is defeated? We part on good terms and go our separate ways?” Maul shakes his head, twirling his saber and stalking towards you. “No. At the end of the day, the Sith will always be an enemy. I will always be an enemy.”

“I’m sure that—woah!” He renews his attacks with vigor, clearly done talking. Unfortunately for him, you’re not done. “I’m sure that the Rebel Alliance would be happy to negotiate some sort of treaty.”

“I have had enough of arrogant little Force users thinking that they can change the galaxy with ‘the power of goodness,’” he mocks. “You are not the first to approach me with your misguided ideals.”

Maul kicks the center of your chest and sends you falling to the ground, a position you never want to find yourself in when fighting for your life. Attempting to scramble backward is made extra difficult with the lightsaber in your hand, and it’s only delaying the inevitable as Maul follows you slowly, a predator stalking his prey. With a firm smack, your saber goes flying out of your reach.

He holds his lightsaber to your chest and smirks down at you as it burns a hole through the fabric of your shirt. “But you will be the last.”

You raise both hands up in a last-ditch plea, though you know it’s for naught. This is it. You’ve lost. You’ll become just another name on the long list of lives lost as sacrifices for the fight for a better tomorrow.

Though you’d like to say that a sense of peace comes over you as you stare your impending death in the eyes, that’s not the case. You’re scared out of your mind, actually, and the only thing comforting you is the fact that it’ll be a quick death. With that in mind, you close your eyes and await the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. Where you were expecting pain and darkness, there’s simply darkness from screwing your eyes shut. After a couple of long moments, you hesitantly open your eyes. Darth Maul no longer looms over you. Instead, he’s a few feet away, engaged in battle with someone else.

“It was foolish of me to believe that Kenobi could actually finish the job and successfully kill somebody for once,” he spits, twirling his saber in his hand as another red saber clashes with his.

“You said it, not me!”

Belatedly, you realize that you know that cocky, annoying voice. Sure enough, Darth Vader is now Darth Maul’s opponent, and he’s faring much better than you had. His helmet is off, allowing you to see the arrogant grin he’s sporting, and his blond curls fly around his face as he swings his lightsaber through the air.

“Vader?” you call, still feeling like your eyes are deceiving you. 

He looks over at you, his grin somehow getting bigger. “C’mon, get up and help me out!”

You stumble to your feet and call your lightsaber back to your hand using the Force, but remain back. Vader doesn’t need your help, because he’s very clearly winning. You would only be a hindrance if you were to join, so instead, you watch.

Even if you didn’t know that the two Sith lords had been trained for a very long time, their fighting styles would make it obvious. The way that they move, so fluidly and deadly, is an art form. It almost looks like a dance, if a dance could end in somebody’s death.

“Darth Sidious won’t be pleased when he finds out you’re helping out the Rebel Alliance,” Darth Maul taunts, bending over backward to avoid a swing.

Darth Vader curses at the near-miss. “Oh, but I’m not.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He looks over his shoulder and winks at you. “Helping the one particular Rebel that I have a vested interest in.”

“Pathetic!” Darth Maul spits.

Vader’s lightsaber makes contact with the palm of Maul’s hand, and he yells out in pain. He catches his saber with his other hand before it can fall to the ground, but he’s unable to grip it with both hands now. Though he could fight one-handed, against somebody as talented as Darth Vader, he wouldn’t be very successful. The light from his saber disappears as he extinguishes it, giving one curt nod before he backs off.

“This is not the end,” he promises.

“No, I don’t believe it is.”

Though Vader could very easily finish him, there are rules to a battle. When one willingly concedes, the fight is over, no matter how much the other wishes that it wasn’t. You and Vader both watch as Maul makes it to his ship and escapes, flying high above your heads and away from Corellia.

Vader turns his attention to you, wrapping his large hands around your upper arms and looking you up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“You were the one about to die.”

“I had it under control,” you claim, even though you very much did not have it under control. “And I didn’t need you to save me.”

“Oh, you didn’t? That’s not what it looked like to me.” 

His fingers move to the open hole in your shirt left by Maul’s lightsaber above your heart. The skin there is shiny from a light burn—it’s nothing that will hinder you in the long run, but it does sting a bit, especially when Vader lightly touches this wound. You hiss through your teeth, but he doesn’t move.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he notes, his voice soft from concentration.

Your cheeks burn at this because you know there are a couple of reasons for your racing heart, and only one of them is from the exertion of battle. Wiggling your hands up, you get enough of a space that you can lightly push yourself away from Vader.

“What are you—how did you know that I would be here?” you demand, having been under the assumption that everybody had done very well in making sure this was a top-secret mission.

“We received some intel that the Rebel Alliance would be making a rather stupid attempt at reaching out to Crimson Dawn. I was going to just let Maul have at it, but then I thought, ‘What are the odds that my Rebel would be involved in this?’”

“I am not your Rebel.” The way that he looks at you, like you mean something to him, makes your heart clench in a way that you don’t want to consider right now. Onto the next subject, then. “Why did you help me in the first place? You could have let him kill me. You should have let him kill me, actually. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t want you dead.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, you just want me to join you and go against every one of my morals.”

“I still have morals, Rebel. If you were willing to listen, to be open-minded, I think you’d find that the Dark Side is not evil. Where the Light Side wanted their Jedi to shirk all of their emotions and attachments, the Dark Side encourages those emotions. Anger, sadness, passion…love. Sith believe in a world where we’re all free to feel what we want, to allow that which scares us to be out in the open so that we may overpower it. You can’t tell me that this sounds evil.”

You remain silent, because you don’t know what to think. With how Vader puts it, the Dark Side doesn’t sound all evil. Actions speak louder than words, however, and you’ve seen the terror and devastation that the Empire and the Dark Side have unleashed on the galaxy. You’re not willing to dwell on it right now (or ever, really; just thinking about the possibility of Vader’s words having some validity makes you feel like you’re betraying the Rebel Alliance), so you force it to the back of your mind and refuse to think about it any longer.

“Well, I think my work here is done,” Vader declares with a sigh, clipping his saber back onto his belt.

You look at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re not…going to force me to be your apprentice? I mean, now’s kind of the perfect time.” You don’t want him to do so, but you were sure you knew what his end goal was, since he’s made it clear every other time you’ve encountered him.

“It is,” he agrees. “But I’ve decided that it does no good to have you join me against your will. When the time comes, you’ll give yourself to me—to the Dark Side willingly.”

He sounds so sure of this, like it’s a foregone conclusion. You’re about to argue, to insist once more that you’ll never join him, when you hear groaning behind you.

“Looks like your crew is starting to come to,” Vader notes. “I’ll see you soon.”

You don’t doubt that, but you won’t let him know that. “I sure hope not.”

He laughs, already walking to his own ship. “Make sure to get that burn checked out so that it doesn’t get infected!” he yells to you.

The groaning gets louder before you can tell him to not tell you what to do, and somebody calls your name sluggishly. Your pilot is trying to roll over onto his hands and knees, and the others aren’t far behind him in waking up. You get ready to help, as all good Rebels do—because that’s what you are, someone good and helpful and nothing at all like the Sith Lord that increasingly occupies your thoughts as of late.

You’re not like him, you tell yourself, and you’ll do everything in your power to ensure that you won’t ever be like him.

[utilitycaster]

Bells Hells Level 11!

As always: are there errors or major omissions? Let me know! Your preferred feat or spell isn't listed? That's because it's not my preferred feat or spell, and you should make your own post for your own preferences! Additionally, because level-ups are no longer done at the end of sessions but are rather their own separate videos, I now include speculation for the next level(s) since there's often very little time to speculate on the current level.

Chetney: Level 10 in Blood Hunter means Dark Augmentation and a 3rd blood curse. Dark Augmentation increases his speed by 5 feet/round and grants him a +3 (his Int modifier) to all physical saves. As for blood curses...they're fighting mages, so Muddled Mind is looking pretty nice, but Eyeless is also useful and Binding is very versatile. Looking forward: if he continues to level in Blood Hunter, his hemocraft die goes up to a d8, his strikes in his wolf form go up to a d8 and get +2 instead of +1 and he can use his wolf form twice between rests and he regenerates a small amount when he's below half-health. 11 Blood Hunter: It's a big level up, folks.

Laudna: She leveled up in sorcerer and took her ASI to max out charisma, which I support as someone who always respects a main stat boost. She gets a new spell and I would advise leaning into utility and taking Dimension Door, personally. Looking forward: I think I've made my feelings on the concept/multiclass clear in the past, but practically speaking, if you're progressing in sorcerer, it's probably wiser mechanically to keep doing so. Level 9 grants 5th level spells.

FCG: Begone Thot Destroy Undead improvement, and 6th level spells! I mentioned before that I'm really looking forward to Heroes' Feast. He also gets some big utility spells, notably Heal, True Seeing, and Word of Recall. Looking forward: 12 is an ASI and oh buddy please up your WIS score. A feat that does +1 to WIS is a valid choice, just...bring it to +4, please? For me? Observant would be fun if not super necessary since Orym's got that covered; skill expert could also be fun. But as stated with Laudna, straight ASI in your main stat is always a solid choice.

Fearne: Fearne took a second level in rogue, which grants her cunning action (dash, hide, or disengage as a bonus action) which is quite useful if she ends up in combat, especially since, despite a good HP roll this level, she's a touch squishier following her time with Novos. I actually support this, both because Ashley has a strong vision for Fearne and also because I think keeping the party dependent on the Staff of Dark Odyssey is good for the story - let's wait a bit longer until we get Transport via Plants! Let's take the scenic route! Looking forward: L10 druid is a good level - the Cauterizing Flames feature, which is a bit niche but extremely cool, is one I'm looking forward to. I'm not opposed to her moving forward with rogue, per se; I think if she does, Thief is the obvious (and correct) choice. However, Cauterizing Flames is really very good and I would like to see it.

Imogen: I mentioned Chain Lightning and True Seeing as some fun options for her. She also gets access to Disintegrate, which would be very fun to cast on, say, Otohan. Or Ludinus. Or her mom. Fuck them Vanguard. Looking forward: sorry got distracted by the idea of disintegrating the Vanguard members...12 is an ASI and honestly I'd just take the +1 to INT and WIS. Imogen's got so many feats, and I really think having better mental stats would be a great sign of growth, she's done the character work to deserve it, and it never hurts to roll a little better on a wisdom save (I say as a known dumper of WIS).

Orym: He can attack 3 times per round. This is why fighters are great. If you do not think fighters are great you can catch three attacks in six seconds from these hands. Looking forward: yes! it's yet another ASI/Feat. And once again, I think a stats boost is best. Tank better with a +3 to con, and then he can either get smarter, or get more charismatic if he's considering paladin (note: I like the idea of Orym remaining a pure fighter more, but I do not control the Liam, and he's a reliably thoughtful player mechanically so I'm interested in what he does. As always this is me saying opinions and not being prescriptive). He gets another ASI at 14 (fighters! best pure battle class!) while everyone else is getting class features so that's when I'd take a feat.

Ashton: Relentless rage - keep raging while unconscious! Very punk rock. Looking forward: Level 12 is an ASI and yes not to sound like a broken record, but max out that strength. It's up to you and Chetney, and who knows how much longer he'll be around.

[victoria-writes]

I will never forget you.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Legolas proposes to you and reassures you that he wants to be with you. Fluff & Angst with a happy ending + bonus ending

Word Count: 1605

Notes:

Reader is human

No gender or pronouns used to refer to the reader. Reader is briefly mentioned to have short hair

MENTIONS OF DEATH (reader's). Don't read if you're not ok with thinking about your own mortality xoxo

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

It has been months since you moved to Mirkwood with the prince following the disbandment of the fellowship and destruction of the one ring. Sometimes your mind would drift to what could’ve happened had the ring fallen into the wrong hands or if any other evil lies dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You could never sit with these thoughts for long, though. Legolas seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed to see the good in the world again. Today was one of those days. 

“Come, there is something I wish to show you”, the elf smiled as he stretched his hand out, waiting for you to take it from your place sitting in a wooden chair inside the royal palace. 

“It better not be another elk giving birth in the woods. I’m still traumatized from your idea of ‘the beauty of nature’”, you grimace at the memory still not extending your hand.

“No, no, nothing like that. I promise”, he chuckles softly.

“Fine”.

Legolas had brought you to a clearing in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees and wildflowers. White queen anne’s lace, forget-me-nots, and flowers whose names you did not know, who only seemed to grow near where elves trot, filled your eyes. This is not the first time he’s found a quiet spot in nature to take you, and it will surely not be the last. While overlooking the rainbow of colors seemingly dancing in the field in front of you, you sneak a glance at the elf from the corner of your eye. He stands confidently with his hands behind his back next to you and smiles. If it were anyone else looking at him, they’d think he was completely at ease. Anyone but you. The look in his eyes said “Do you like it? Do you? Please tell me you like it.”. He always wanted to impress you, whether it be shooting three arrows at once when one would suffice, wearing his nicest clothes (“Legolas why are you wearing your ceremonial attire?” “Don’t worry about it, father”.), or finding the best places to take you. Be still, your beating heart. For a nearly 3,000 year old elf, he acted like a lovesick teenager. 

“It’s absolutely beautiful”, you finally say after a long silence. Legolas releases tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize he was holding. 

“I knew you would. Let us sit in the grass.”, he guided you so that he was sitting with your back against his chest, his legs on either side. 

You felt your tongue form teasing words about him taking you on a hike to a remote spot just for a cuddle, but they faded away as he wrapped his arms around your sides and began to plant soft, slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You melted into his warm touch. 

“May I braid your hair?”

“Yes, but there’s not much to braid.”, you reply. You had recently gotten a haircut and felt as though Legolas may be disappointed. He was very enthusiastic about your new look the first time he saw it, but now you fear he may not enjoy it. 

“Nonsense, I shall make many small plaits instead”.

“Alright”, you relaxed into his hands as he began to weave strands of hair behind you. You closed your eyes, as you reveled in the feeling of the sunlight on your face as he worked. All was quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel running up a tree. A warm feeling took hold in your chest and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You were safe. You were happy. You were in love. 

Millenia seemed to pass before Legolas announced he was done. True to his word, he had formed many braids in your hair. He may have gone a little overboard with just how many he made, but he just loved the feeling of being so close to you and never wanted it to end. 

“Thank you”, you whisper as your turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. You move your hand to feel the back of your head, itching to feel the braids your lover gifted you. Soft. Your fingers feel something soft. Something thin and soft. 

“Forget-me-not flowers”, Legolas clarified, seeing you trying to decipher with your fingers, “I thought them appropriate”.

“Why is that?” “They are gifted to one whose presence you enjoy, so as not to forget them, as the name implies. I could never forget you and I hope you would not forget me. Each past day with you is a beloved memory and each day to come cannot come soon enough. I treasure each moment with you. I feel myself drowning in my affection for you. No, peacefully swimming. I adore you. I cannot bear to be without you.”, he says softly as he holds both your hands and kisses each one, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh, Legolas”

“Meleth nîn”, he uses his hands to guide you both to your feet. As you look up into his bright blue eyes, he whispers “Please allow me to never be without you. Allow me to walk beside you for all the days we may share together before death takes us. I have lived millennia without you. Now that I know what life is like with you in it, I never want to go back. I want you with me, always.”

“Are you asking me-?”, you begin as he kneels down in front of you and pulls out a ring from his pocket.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he gazes at you with hope in his eyes as he lifts the ring towards you. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”, he quickly puts the ring on your left ring finger and you pull him into a harsh kiss. You and the elf wear matching smiles as you kiss long and hard. 

“I’m so happy, Legolas…but is this what you really want?”, your smile drops as your nerves hit you. “Of course, my love. Why do you question my intentions?”.

“It’s not your intentions that I question. It’s just that you’re…you”, you vaguely gesture at the elf.

“I’m not following.”

“You’re a prince. I’m poor. You’re an elf that’ll live thousands of years. I’m a human that’ll be lucky if I make it to 70.” “I don’t care about that.”

“Your father won’t approve.” “I care not what my father thinks. His opinion of our union will not sway me.” 

“Then what of my mortality? One day I will die and leave you alone.”

He sighs before he speaks, “I must admit I have thought long and hard on this subject. The thought of your death pains me to no end.” “Exactly. Our marriage would be short-lived in your long lifetime and I will become nothing but a memory to you, one that will fade one day.”

“What are you saying?” “I’m saying you love me now, but one day I will die and you’ll move on and I’ll mean nothing to you. One day you’ll laugh at how you ever loved a silly human”, tears began to well in your eyes, shame overtaking you as you finally let out the fears you’ve been harboring all this time. Your gaze drifts downwards, unable to face your elven lover. Legolas’ eyes widened in realization, shocked at your true feelings. He manages to compose himself and lifts your chin up with his index finger. 

“Meleth nîn, look at me. Y/N, please.”, he whispers his request. 

“It is true that my life will continue when yours ends.”

Hot tears began to run down your cheeks at this. 

“But”, he swipes the tears away with his thumb, “You will always be a part of it. Even when you are gone, I will love you. You have shown me love that I did not think was possible. When you are gone, I will visit your grave with flowers each day. I will braid my hair and miss the touch of yours. I will never remarry. I will walk the paths we have taken together. I will meditate in this very spot, remembering this moment. I will never forget you. In life and in death, we are connected. I love you”.

“And I love you”, you barely choke the words out through your tears. 

“Knowing all this, my silly human,”he teases before turning serious, “Will you marry me?” “Of course, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous elf”.

You both grin as Legolas lifts you up and spins you in his arms. When your feet are planted on the Earth again he kisses you deeply. As you feel your lips on your own, you imagine a thousand more kisses each day with him for the rest of your days. 

Bonus

Many moons have passed since your passing. Legolas meant every word of his promise and has done all that he said. Before he rests each night, he reads the book on his nightstand, your favorite book of poems. He recalls reading it to you on nights your eyes were too tired as he pet your hair while you laid on his chest. When he wakes each morning, he glares at the large empty space beside it, wishing it were you. Although his heart pangs at the loss of you, he finds joy and comfort in revisiting your old haunts, his favorite being the spot where he proposed to you. Today, our elf wanders into the cemetery. “Hello, meleth nîn”, he smiles as he places a bouquet of freshly picked forget-me-nots on your grave.

[seilahscopium]

Anything?

♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Tighnari ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ you were sitting behind Tighnari while he wrote notes on the new developments in the area. you quietly played with his fluffy tail that would smack you in the face if you touched a sensitive part (which you purposely did more than once) Tighnari was long done on his little fungi notes, just enjoying the scenery and feeling you play with his tail and hearing your little hums occasionally. he couldn't help but chuckle, just absolutely smitten for you as he felt you place some flowers into his tail. of course, it would eventually be time to head back home and you had been sitting on your knees (which he's warned you not to millions of times) so your legs were sleepy. "Nari, can you carry me back to the headquarters when we're done?" this time, his tail smacked you in the face because he was worried. Tighnari turned around, closing his notepad. his eyes held a look of concern as he asked you, "Why? Are you tired or feeling weak?" you bit the inside of your cheek and your silence was all he needed. You heard his sigh, "Y/n- what have I told you? don't sit on your knees or they'll get tired and you won't be able to walk properly" you gave him a sheepish smile. "i know," you let our knees out from under your butt and stretched them out, with Tighnari standing in between your now open legs. "i'm sorry, but it's just a habit. i already lost the feelings in my legs, can you carry me pretty please?" he pursed his lips, knowing this would be an endless cycle with you. and yet, no matter how many times this has happened, he could never say no to you. but he didn't answer fast enough and you looked up at him, panicking a little on the inside. you rather liked being carried by him since you got to be close and listen to his breathing and play with his ears. meanwhile, in Tighnari's mind, he's come to the conclusion it's fine and he'll carry you. you won't be able to poke any mushrooms that could burst out dangerous chemicals (like you always do) so it's saving him some trouble. he was about to ask if you wanted him to carry you in his arms or on his back...but your brain that ran at 100% speed thought he was going to say no and you had to convince him somehow. "i-i'll do anything!" you quickly exclaimed, standing up with slightly wobbling legs. you gripped his shirt so you wouldn't fall by how fast you stood up with your sleepy legs like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, Tighnari put his gloved hands on your hips to keep you stable. he rose a brow at you, amused a bit at your attempt to convince him. he was already going to say yes, but this was too cute to pass up. "anything?" he repeated. now, your brain assumed he was thinking sexual things from the way his eyes stared into yours. you were going to strike the iron while it was hot. ...god you could be so stupid sometimes but it's okay he still loves you. and Tighnari thought no such thing either. OBVIOUSLY. he was only going to use this against you when you'd leave him in the dust with Cyno's bad jokes and escape with Collei. next time he would make you stay. "mhm! I'll...I'll cock warm you" you offered "w-what?!" Tighnari's eyes widened sexual activities weren't anything new between the two of you, but you're always saying something random and unpredictable so it caught him a bit off guard. and maybe even a bit bashful. "yeah! i can do it when you working and want my presence. or i can even do it with my mouth if you wan-" Tighnari clamped a hand over your mouth, blushing slightly, and a bit embarrassed at your blunt words. "Y/n, i was already going to say yes." he explained gently "there's no need to try and convince me like that. right now, a kiss would be fine." he worded things carefully and softly, to make sure you really heard him.

Tighnari relished in the way you cupped his face and went on to press many apology kisses to his face, and a nice long one to his lips. "alright, let's head back now," he said, swooping you up in his arms - as you requested - and starting the walk home. you could've walked on your own if you were being honest, your legs were already awake. he just liked holding you it seemed. even if you didn't need it anymore. Tighnari leaned down and pressed a kiss right below your ear before whispering, “Although if your offer was still available later…I hope you wouldn’t mind if I accepted”

[leaderoffestivals]

Harukawa Sora FS2 4*: Way of the Finishing Move

Sora: HuHu~! This achievement is only possible thanks to everyone here at SHIN. Sora can call himself a Finishing Move Master now~ ♪

Scenario Writer: Kanata Haruka  Season: Winter   Characters: Harukawa Sora, Mikejima Madara. Kiryu Kuro, Amagi Hiiro, Morisawa Chiaki, Nagumo Tetora

< In the Training Room.>

Sora: Please help Sora out with training. Thank you so much!

Madara: Yep, that’s the situation right there! I hope everyone can come together to help Sora-san achieve his wish, somehow ☆

Tetora: No, wait. Even if you say “That’s the situation right there”, I haven’t the foggiest clue what the situation is at all… … 

Chiaki: I'm in the same boat too. However, it’s the duty of a hero to help those in need. If Harukawa wishes to train with me, I’ll be his training partner for however long it takes!

Kuro: Hmm. I don’t mind either, but can we at least know why you want to train with us? 

One can’t really train without knowing what the goal is, after all. 

Sora: Yes! Sora REALLY wants to master a finishing move! It’s the Forward Downward Diagonal Punch~ (2) ♪

Hiiro: Hmm? What’s a forward downward diagonal punch? Is it a kind of spell or something? 

Tetora: OH! Could it be a command from that fighting game? You know, the famous one!

Kuro: Oh, that one, huh? The one that’s surprisin'ly tricky to execute properly. I see, I get what you’re talkin’ about now. 

Any guy would wanna try imitatin’ the techniques they see in manga and games at least once. 

Harukawa, you probably want to try out the moves you’ve been usin' in yer fighting games, am I right? 

Sora: HaHa~! Bin~go, Red Onii-san. Sora will award you a flower seal~ (3)

In the beginning, Sora tried asking Shisho and Senpai for advice, but they’re not very knowledgeable about martial arts at all.

That’s why Sora ended up practising in the dorm room while looking at the game screen, you know~?

Madara: Hahaha. And when I came back and saw Sora-san performing a strange dance in our dorm room, I couldn’t help joining in the dance as wellll ♪

Sora: Urgh. It’s not a dance, okay~. It’s a Finishing Move!

Madara: Whoops! Sorry, my bad! You’re absolutely right. Anyway, that’s the reason why I invited you here after seeing you so worked up about it after all. 

Everything has a purpose and place. If it’s a place to practise martial arts you need, then there's no better place for you than SHIN after aaall!

Madara: Now then. For that reason, once again—Would everyone be willing to help Sora-san fulfil his wish? 

Great! It seems like everyone is willing to lend a hand! Well then, let us start our Circle activities without delay ♪

Tetora: Now, Sora-kun, try loosening your fists a little. Don’t rely solely on your fists to strike—try twisting your hips to inject more power into your punch! 

Sora: Got it! TAKE! THAT! And THAT! 

Chiaki: Whoa, you're looking good! Those punches of yours have some serious power behind them ♪

Sora: HiHi~! Punching rhythmically like this makes it feel like Sora’s playing a fun music game! It’s almost as if Sora can see the notes coming in from the front, huh~?

TAKE! THAT! And THAT! Sora will be trying his best to aim for a Full Combo now ♪

Kuro: Oi, oi. You shouldn’t be losin’ yer focus and thinkin' of other games during warmup, should you?

If you get too carried away, you’ll run outta steam and bonk before achievin’ yer goal, Harukawa. 

Sora: You’re right! Thank you, Red Onii-san. Sora will remember that since Sora doesn’t have much stamina.

However, doing this is so much fun, it feels like Sora’s health is actually being replenished instead~ ♪

Madara: HAHAHA! Sora-san seems perfectly warmed up nowww!

Let's strike while the iron is hot! Now that warm-up is done, shall we move on to the training for your Finishing Move? 

Sora: Yes, please! Sora will be in your care!

Tetora: Anyway, for those who are unfamiliar with fighting games, I’ve managed to find a video demonstrating the technique. 

Madara: Oh, that’s helpful. … … Hmm, hmm. I see nowww. It’s that kind of move, huh? 

Madara: Hm~mm. Performing this move leaves you wide open for a counterattack, doesn’t it? It doesn't seem very practical for actual combat at aaall.

Hiiro: Hmm. I agree with Madara-senpai. The part where you jump after landing a fist on the opponent's chin is totally unnecessary. 

If your attack misses, you won’t be able to dodge while in mid-air, and end up exposing your flank and other vulnerable areas. 

Kuro: Oi, oi, you guys. Stop goin’ outta yer way to say things to crush Harukawa’s dream. 

Chiaki: Exactly, you two. Saying stuff like that feels like you’re interrupting a hero’s transformation scene!

Tetora: Moves like these are cooler when they’re hot-blooded and flashy, aren’t they? It’s so not cool to rain on other people’s parades!

Anyway, Sora-kun, could you show us the Finishing Move you’ve got now? We won’t be able to give proper advice until we know what needs fixing, right? 

Sora: Got it! Sora will show you his punch at full power~! Here it goes… … 

HaHa! Forward Downward Diagonal Punch~ ♪

Tetora: Here, I’ve recorded Sora-kun’s move as it is now. Let's take a look at it. 

Sora: Hm~mm? There’s no force behind it at all~. This isn’t a Finishing Move, it’s just an ordinary jump. 

Sora has a long, long way to go after all~. What in the world is Sora doing wrong, Sora wonders? 

Hiiro: Well, I think your small size is a major reason why you lack power, Sora-kun. The person using this move in the game is very muscular, after all. 

Madara: That’s true, but having a small build doesn’t mean one can’t generate an impact, right? With a little technique, even small things can be made to appear huge, you knowww? 

And Chiaki-san, with his rich experience in hero shows and stunt work, should be able to offer some insights on how to achieve that, riiight ♪

Chiaki: Ahaha… I think the same could be said of you, Mikejima-san. 

However, it’s true that I can give some advice based on my experience to you.

The key idea to remember is—to contract when needed, and to extend when needed. 

For instance, right before jumping, you should fully contract to gather as much power as you possibly can—

—and then unleash all that power at the moment of the jump, extending fully into the punch as you connect with your opponent’s chin. 

If you do that, you’ll have an impressively flashy uppercut! 

Sora: Hm~mm? Um… … So, contracting fully before extending—?  

Tetora: Ahaha. Morisawa-senpai just dumped a bunch of unexpected theory on you, huh. It’s detailed, but then, it might be hard to understand this advice just by listening. 

Kuro: In that case, why don’t I demonstrate what that means for ya? Pay close attention, Harukawa—

Kuro: HERE GOES—!

Tetora: WOW! As expected of you, Taishou! That was incredibly powerful just now!

Sora: Yes! It felt like the character from the game was right in front of our eyes!

Kuro: Haha, thanks fer the compliment. But more importantly, did you understand how the move works from what you saw just now, Harukawa?

Sora: Yes, Sora has got it perfectly~. Sora will give it a go, so please watch carefully! Here it goes~~

EIYAAA—!

Sora: Urm, how was that? Did Sora manage to perform the Finishing Move properly just now? 

Chiaki: That’s amazing, Harukawa! That was powerfully and perfectly done!

Hiiro: Umu! I felt a powerful intensity that made me instinctively raise my guard just now!

Oh, I get it. The key to this technique lies in this very intensity. With such an effect, there’ll be no opportunity for the opponent to attack Sora-kun's exposed flank or back because their guard will be raised high despite themselves!

Sora: HuHu~! This achievement is only possible thanks to everyone here at SHIN. Sora can call himself a Finishing Move Master now~ ♪

AH! However, there are still many Finishing Moves Sora has not mastered yet, so it might still be too early for Sora to call himself a Finishing Move Master now, huh… …? 

Madara: Hoho~! It appears there are still many techniques Sora-san wishes to learn about!

This is a good opportunity, so let’s practise other Finishing Moves today as well~ 

Sora: In that case, let’s all fire out Energy Blasts together! It’s Down Diagonal Forward Punch~ (4) ♪

Kuro: Harukawa, that’s hella impossible, even fer me… …

The End

Translator’s notes: 

必殺技 (hi-satsu-waza) in the title: Sure-kill-technique or finishing move in computer games.  

Sora is saying the controller commands which will activate the 昇龍拳 ShoRyuKen in the fighting game, Street Fighter.

3. Sora says 花丸 Hanamaru here: This refers to the encircled flower seal (equivalent to a gold star) JP teachers award to children for good work at school. It looks like this.

4. Sora just suggested that everyone perform the 波動拳 Hadouken in Street Fighter.

5. It's not proofed, so if you spot anything and/or wish to give feedback, please DM me.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Hey! could you elaborate this part of 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 Part 1 "Daemon would teach them to befriended with the Velaryon boys, and pick on Alicent's kin." in an imagine/oneshot, please?

I personally loved this drabble. I wanted a chance to work on Daemon's "questionable" side, because we know that there's no good people in the asoiaf universe, and this is it. Anyway, I know this is not what you wanted but I hope you like it 💓 Here's Daemon Targaryen freely bullying children:

this happens months before aemond loses his eye.

Daemon noticed how close to the greens his children started to become, and it bothered him. He knew they were just children and wouldn't be seeing evil in someone's actions, but he also knew better, and Alicent's children are not to be trusted.

Alyssa played with Aegon more than she should to her father's liking. In fact, she shouldn't be playing with him at all, just like she promised Daemon, years ago. Aegon had charisma, and that was dangerous. Daemon's kids were easily fooled by his nephew's sense of humor. Fortunately, he never had to worry about Aemond, who was too introverted — and an asshole — to play with anyone but his sister Helaena.

Rhaenyra would be staying in King's Landing for a while, and Daemon thought it was the perfect chance to make his kids see Alicent's kin with other eyes. And Jacaerys and Lucerys absolutely adored their uncle. They thought uncle Daemon was fun, and had many things to learn from him. They looked at Daemon with the same admiration they had for Ser Harwin.

So he gathered the boys on the training yard, where was expected of Ser Criston to teach them all. Daemon thought it was a good idea to be their instructor for the day. There was no one to supervise him, and he'd the one supervising the children. Torment the green boys would be a piece of cake.

"Aegon, you're the oldest between them." Daemon stated, "So take your sword and try to attack me."

Aegon looked around, searching for someone.

"Wait, are you talking to me?" The teenager questioned, frowning.

Daemon snorted, "I don't know, Aegon. Am I?"

Daemon attacked the boy without giving him time to think, just act. Aegon's sword blocked the move.

"Nice move. To think you can actually do something right, and not be completely useless like your brother," Daemon teased, looking directly to Aemond.

The elder prince moved again, attacking the boy-prince quickly this time. Aegon couldn't defend himself, so he fell on the ground before letting himself be lacerated by Darksister's blade.

"Too soon. You're just as useless as your brother. Jacaerys, come here and show him how it's done."

"Yes, uncle." Jace stepped forward, smirking, and looking at Aegon fallen in the ground.

Daemon's strategy was based on humiliating the green boys, and inflate his boys' ego. Once they thought they were better than Aegon and Aemond, they'd start bullying them. It was for the best.

So he took easy on Jace and Luke. Both of them were pretty strong in their moves, and Daemon was quite impressed by the precision of their strikes. They were just children, so of course if he wanted to, he could knock them out effortlessly. But they were having fun, and actually learning something. Luke swiftly improved his base, and Jace discovered he was better using his body in combat than sword fighting.

"Rhaegon, Aemond, I want you against each other." Daemon declared.

Daemon knew what he was doing. He knew the envy, the hatred, the bitterness inside Aemond's chest, something that could be simply triggered in Rhaegon's presence. Aemond would try his hardest to harm the prince's son, but the Rogue Prince knew that Rhaegon would do anything to impress his father.

Aemond and Rhaegon shared the same age, thirteen years old. Rhaegon could be taller than the other prince, but Aemond was experienced in melee combat, and was really good for a kid at his age.

"The first one to fall on the ground or disarm the opponent, loses." Daemon stated.

Aegon chuckled, "Don't embarass me, Aemond."

"More than you already embarrassed yourself? I couldn't." Aemond rolled his eyes and picked up his sword.

"You got this." Jace said to his cousin, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance.

"Go for his legs." Luke suggested, "I'm sure you're faster than him."

Daemon observed the boys interacting between themselves, the difference was obvious.

The dispute started at his command. Rhaegon attacked first, but Aemond blocked and used his weight against the other boy. Their lilac eyes met as their swords crashed, and Aemond howled, kicking the other prince away. Rhaegon almost lost his balance, but his feet danced, spinning across the ground, and he posed balacing his weight in his estructure.

"Are we dancing now?" Aemond mocked.

"Oh, shut up. You couldn't dance if you wanted to. You can't do anything right, can you?" Rhaegon teased, his sword swung in his hands, aiming for the other prince's legs, "I bet Alyssa could knock you out."

Aemond groaned loudly, constantly attacking and being blocked, until Rhaegon's back met a wall and Aemond had him cornered.

"Trying to impress daddy, aren't ya? You're reckless just like him." Aemond said between gritted teeth

"At least my father knows my name." Rhaegon passed under the Aemond's high attack and pushed his back, making the prince fall.

Daemon proudly watched the Velaryon boys celebrating his son's victory. Aegon mocked his own brother fallen on the ground, and Aemond burned in anger. The seed of chaos had been planted, his work there was done.

[avatar-anna]

Just the Two of Us

i've been doing a lot of asks recently, so here's a concept straight from my brain. it's very, very long. enjoy!!

Harry Styles was a thorn in your side.

You didn't even really know him, you knew of him. Both of you worked at the same boat tour company, but thankfully you gave tours on different boats. So why did he irk you so much?

Well, he was insanely attractive, for one, but he knew it and had no qualms using it to lure unsuspecting tourists into his charming little trap.

It really wasn't any of your business, and he wasn't even a tour guide on your boat, but you'd catch him sometimes if your trips happened to come into the dock at the same time, and you'd have to watch him shamelessly flirt with girls (and the occasional boy if the mood struck him). You'd have to watch as these tourists threw themselves at him, practically begging for his attention, and he was more than happy to give it to them. This was a job, not a bar, and Harry was just so smug about his popularity with tourists your age, and it was just so—

"Annoying! He drives me crazy, Paige," you said, falling backwards onto your little sister's bed.

She looked up from behind her book. You could only see the top half of her face, but that was all you needed to see to know she was grinning. "You know, for someone who hates the guy, you sure do talk about him a lot."

"Oh please. That is not what this is. People vent about the people they work with all the time."

Paige shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do say so," you said, narrowing your eyes at her.

You thought she'd let it go. You certainly had. The implication that you were...were interested in Harry was vomit-inducing. He was a player, and he did nothing to hide it. He used his tan, his muscles, his dark curly hair, his stupidly charming and dimpled smile to his advantage. You typically weren't the kind to harp on people's sexual activity, but getting a front row seat to Harry's flirting was exhausting.

"It's okay if you're, like, attracted to him, you know," Paige said, her eyes not once leaving her book.

"Paige!"

"What? He's hot. It's like a scientific fact."

You nudged your sister's knee with your foot. "You are fifteen. Stay far, far away."

"And you're twenty-three. You should definitely strike while the iron is hot, live a little," she said, closing her book and setting it down.

"I have lived. I've done plenty of living."

"I know, but ever since you came home, you haven't. I don't want to be the reason you don't have fun anymore. I mean, when was the last time you picked up a—"

"Paige," you said, sitting up on the bed to look at her better. "I don't regret being here. You're my sister. I'd do anything for you."

She played with the book's cover, not looking you in the eye. "I just feel guilty sometimes. You were living your life, and I—"

"You needed help." Patting the spot next to you on the bed, you urged Paige to sit next to you. Sighing, she got up from her beanbag chair and plopped down next to you. When she was settled, you let her rest her head on your shoulder. "I don't regret being here, Paigey."

"I know."

Your parents disappeared a few years ago, not that they did much when they were present. When you lived at home, Paige was your responsibility, and you took it on like any other challenge. You helped her with her schoolwork, you made her Halloween costumes, you took her to Father/Daughter dances. In your eyes, you were a family of two, and your parents were kind of just tenants living in your home.

And then opportunity struck. When you weren't raising Paige, you were competing in local surf competitions. And winning. After graduating high school, you were offered a sponsorship and invited to tour the world to compete. You initially turned the offer down, knowing you couldn't leave Paige behind. And perhaps it was selfish of you, but you really really wanted to go, so when Paige insisted that you go and live your dream, you did, but not before sitting your parents down and laying into them about how they needed to change their behavior or you would take Paige and never look back. And maybe that's what you should've done in the first place.

But things were good at first. You checked in on Paige constantly, flew home when you could, and even got Paige on a plane to visit you wherever you were when you could. Your parents were marginally better, but you would still send checks directly to Paige and not them, and paying bills from different time zones.

Were you surprised when you got a call from Paige's school saying that apparently your parents had been AWOL for weeks? Yes, but only because you thought Paige would tell you something like that and she didn't.

So you hung up your board and flew home, and had been taking care of Paige ever since. That was two years ago, and things were fine. You made enough money to get by, and even more saved up during the off-season for tourism. Paige sometimes voiced her concerns about you, but you were telling the truth when you said you didn't regret coming home. She was your first and only priority.

"Hey, what do you say to playing hookie tomorrow? I'll give you a marine biology lesson in person," you said. You didn't do it often, but sometimes you decided that Paige needed a life lesson and not an academic lesson, so you took her out with you on a day of snorkel watching tours around the Channel Islands.

You couldn't see her, but you could tell she was smiling. "You just need an extra set of hands again."

There was also that.

"Maybe, but it'll still be fun. And I'll give you some of my tips," you pressed. You gave her a small allowance, but she liked making a little money of her own too.

"Fine, but only because I know I'll get to see Harry at some point. Maybe I should see if he needs a hand."

It was a joke, obviously. One she knew would make you react a certain way. And you did.

"Gross, Paige. Stick to obsessing over boybands and teen vampires or whatever," you said, standing up from her bed.

You wished her a good night, then left her room, cleaning the house up a bit as you went. When you finally settled down for sleep, your thoughts were plagued by green eyes and dimples and colorful swimtrunks that complimented tan skin. Groaning, you put your pillow over your head, waiting for the torture to end.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A week later you were at the marina, cleaning up the little speedboat you took tourists out on, you enjoyed the silence and sunrise. It was peaceful, a little chilly, but peaceful. At this hour, it was just you, your docked boat, and the ocean.

And then your peace was shattered by footsteps, footsteps headed towards you.

"Oh God," you muttered when you saw who it was. It was Harry and your boss Jackson.

"Boss" was a bit of an overstatement. He ran the snorkel tour service that you worked at, but he was also a close family friend. He was the one who taught you how to surf. He caught you wandering the beach one day when you were seven. You were an angry little thing, and skittish, like a stray dog. You were used to looking out for yourself, you trusted no one but yourself, and when Jackson came up to you, you were seconds away from scratching and kicking.

But he kept his distance and just tossed you a board. He didn't say much, only muttering how to paddle and duck dive and eventually push yourself up. It took a long time to trust him, but heeventually became someone important to you, someone you leaned on for help from time to time, especially when Paige was born.

Jackson wasn't like a father to you, you didn't want one of those. He was more like an eccentric uncle, one who promised to look after you and hooked you up with a job when you came home.

"Hey, Jack," you said, completely ignoring the man next to him.

"Y/n," he said. To this day, Jackson was a man of very few words. "Listen, I—"

"You're not gonna greet me?" Harry asked. He was grinning, like the fact that you didn't greet him brought him immense pleasure.

Not missing a beat, you looked at him briefly. "Hi. You were saying, Jack?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head, but Jack ignored it and continued. "Callie is out with a torn ACL and Gordon is doing relief work in South America, so we have to downsize this season. Harry's with you."

"What?"

"Try not to act so excited, Princess," Harry said, a very satisfied smile on his face. "I do happen to be one of Santa Cruz's best tour guides."

"Says who?"

"Almost everyone who comes aboard my boat."

Even that sounded dirty. "Was that before or after you slept with them?" you muttered.

Harry didn't even seem offended by your jab, only more amused. But before he could say anything else, Jackson cut in. "Okay, that's enough. What's done is done, Y/n. Let him help you prep."

He walked off before you could do anything, and then you were alone with him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. "No, no. Ground rules before you try to hit on me. Which, rule number one: no hitting on me."

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Princess. You're not even my type," he said, but as he was saying it, he'd looked you up and down twice, his eyes zeroeing in on your chest.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the boat. "Right. Rule number two: no little nicknames. And three: no flirting on my boat—"

"Your boat?" he asked, holding back a laugh.

"Yes. My boat. And on my boat, we don't flirt with the tourists. Got it?"

"Are you going to let me on your boat anytime soon? Or are we just going to sit around talking about your rules?" Harry's arms were crossed now too, but he still looked like you were entertaining him rather than setting boundaries. Instead of answering, you just raised your brows at him. With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, he said, "Yes, I got it. I didn't realize you were such a prude."

"Not a prude. Professional," you corrected, but his words struck a chord with you. You weren't a prude, not really, you were just careful, responsible. When you were on your own, traveling with all the other surfers, you were carefree, maybe even a little wild. But Paige didn't need carefree and wild, she needed steady and reliable, something your parents never were.

"Look, just—just no checking me out, alright?"

Harry shrugged. "Easy."

He said it like it was so easy, but you knew better. "I mean it, Styles. If you so much as dip your eyes below my chin, I will push you off this boat and leave you in the middle of the ocean."

His responding grin was slow, the dimples in his cheeks deep. "You got it. Now, what time is our first trip?"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry Styles was a pain in your ass.

You didn't think he would listen to any of your rules, but you'd hoped. It lasted one tour. One. And by the second, he was smiling at tourists as he helped them with their rental gear, making them giggle and twirl their hair and pressing their boobs against his arm. It was hard to watch.

So you didn't. You drove the boat, you helped parents and their kids with their flippers and making sure their goggles didn't fog up. You passed out lunch and answered questions and resisted the urge to kick Harry off the boat when he let one of the women who was on a trip with her friend sit on his lap.

When no one was around was when he was the most tolerable. There was no one for him to flirt with, and since you virtually ignored him, he only had himself to entertain. And he bought you lunch occasionally, which was nice, because between tourist excursions and taking care of Paige, you often forgot and ended up starving by the time you made it home.

He was even kind of funny when you gave him the time of day, which was rare in the few weeks you'd spent working together. And as time went on, you started to just get used to his...work ethic.

You still didn't like him, but you didn't hate him either.

"Any plans for after our last trip to Channel Islands, ladies?"

You ignored Harry, figuring he was asking the group of bridesmaids on their way off the boat. You'd gotten used Harry and his behavior, but today it was just you, Paige, Harry, and a bunch of girls on a bachelorette weekend. He didn't even have to do anything, they were immediately all over him, which left you and your sister to do the heavy lifting. And now they were finally leaving, and you were ready for them to take Harry with them.

"Y/n," Paige said, elbowing you.

"What?"

"He was asking you."

"Me? What do you—Oh." Looking up, you saw that the bridesmaids were gone and Harry was in fact looking at you. It was the first time he'd ever asked you that, but perhaps it was because Paige was here and he was just being on his best behavior in front of her.

Shrugging, you said, "Not much. Pizza and a movie?"

"It sounds lame but it's really not," Paige said, looking at Harry. You tried to hide your laugh with a cough, but she heard it and elbowed you again.

"Not lame at all," Harry agreed, not seeming to notice the heart eyes your sister was staring at him with. "I was gonna go surfing if you wanted to join? I noticed boards on top of your car in the parking lot this morning, and—"

"We can't. Maybe another time?" you said. You had no desire to spend more time with Harry than absolutely necessary.

"Oh, can we please, Y/n? We haven't gone this summer, and the swells today were supposed to be amazing," Paige said.

Over the years, you'd taught Paige to surf. You hadn't surfed much since coming back to take care of her, but you sometimes went out and watched, giving your sister pointers and advice. The only time you surfed was before the sun came up when no one else was on the beach. It was how you centered yourself and found peace. And sometimes you were emotional about it too. You wouldn't change your life for anything, nor did you regret cutting your career short to take care of Paige, but sometimes you missed it so much tears sprung in your eyes.

Surfing was the one thing that brought you joy, that took you away from your parents. And you were good at it too, better than good. And sometimes when bills piled up and Paige was being a hormonal teenager and slamming doors in your face, you wondered what life would be like if you were still traveling, still competing. But only in the early morning, and after you paddled in and started your day, you left those doubts behind you.

"Not tonight, okay?" you said, suddenly tired. It was a long day of tours, and you were slowly developing a headache. You just wanted to go home, and you were not about to leave your sister alone with Harry.

"Another time then," Harry said, winking at Paige. She giggled and blushed, then helped you gather your things and get off the boat.

Paige grabbed your keys from you and ran for the car, letting herself into the driver's seat. She got her learner's permit recently and had been pushing you to let her drive ever since. You didn't mind, but you did grab the ceiling handle in the passenger seat anytime she made a left turn or parked between two cars.

"She's sweet."

You jumped at how close Harry was to you, but that only served for him to smile at you. Clearing your throat, you said, "Yeah, yeah she is."

"And it's just you two?" he asked.

You looked at Harry, trying to see what these questions were about. He'd never cared to ask you anything personal before, and you didn't know why he was doing so now. What was his game here?

"Yep. It's just us," you said. "See you tomorrow, Harry."

"Wow. You really don't like me, do you?"

You'd made about two steps before he spoke up again, and his words made you freeze and turn around. "Excuse me?"

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you, and you barely even look at me," he said. "I get that you don't like the way I live my life, but I'm sick of you judging me and treating me like shit. I'm a person with feelings, if you didn't know."

"I—"

"And I am good at my job, you know, despite what you seem to think," Harry continued. "If you ever bothered to get to know me, you'd know that I have a degree in marine biology and was a lifeguard before I started working here. I am competent and I can do this job just as well as you, if not better."

Your mouth just kept opening and closing, unable to form any words. You couldn't say anything because he was right, you did think those things. But hearing Harry say all of that to you made you flush with embarrassment. You never thought you'd be confronted about how you felt about him, and now you were incredibly embarrassed.

"I'm so—"

"No, if that's how you feel, that's how you feel," Harry shrugged, his shoulders straining against his white long sleeve shirt. "I just thought you should know you think a little too loud. See you, Y/n."

Harry walked off towards his car, an old beat up pickup truck with two surfboards sticking out of the bed. You were stunned, unable to do anything but watch him get in his car and drive off. When he was gone, you were finally able to move. You walked in a daze to your car, getting in the passenger's seat in silence.

"What was that about?" Paige asked.

"I—I think I've been a little harsh on Harry," was all you managed to say.

Paige laughed, a small and bubbling thing. You frowned as your sister continued to laugh, but she didn't stop, just kept giggling until you pinched her arm. "Oh brother, Y/n. You just realized that?"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You thought things would be different, or tense, or at the very least awkward, but they weren't. When you showed up for work the next day, Harry acted like he hadn't called you out for being judgemental or pointed out that you didn't like him. It was like that entire conversation never happened. He went on flirting with tourists and you went on ignoring it, but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, remembering what he said to you: I just thought you should know you think a little too loud.

Harry got on your nerves, that didn't change over night. But you also realized that he was right. You weren't a judgy person by nature, so you didn't know why he got under your skin so much. He was just in your mind constantly with his stupid smirks and shorter swim trunks and dark tattoos. He frustrated you to no end, especially now because he hardly spoke to you unless it was about work, a normal thing for the two of you but it felt different now.

And then it hit you.

You were jealous of him.

He was young, maybe a couple years older than you, but you were both in similar places in life. But the difference between you two was that he had freedom you didn't. He got to live life as a young twenty-something while you were helping Paige with math homework and making payments on your parents' house. You would never blame Paige for stepping up and taking care of her, so maybe your subconscious directed the blame at Harry, who was everything you couldn't be anymore.

Sure, he could stand to stare at your boobs less when you were in your bikini, but he never made any lewd comments or sexual advances at you and kept his distance like you'd asked. And if you thought back hard enough, you recalled the tourists making the first move, Harry only reacting to their behavior.

You really were an asshole.

But you were also too proud to apologize. And scared. Harry wasn't rude to you on trips, but he did his job in relative silence, and you didn't know how to bridge that gap that had formed between you. So you just...didn't.

You did your job while he did his, and everything was fine, minus the ever-growing guilt in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm going to the sandwich place down the street. Do you want something before the next tour?"

You looked up from your phone. You'd been enjoying a bit of sun before your next tour group was supposed to show up. Harry had hardly said a word to you all day, and hearing his voice made you jump.

"Uh, sure. Just a turkey sandwich, please."

"Great. I'll be back in ten," he said, not looking twice before stepping off the boat.

Groaning, you leaned your head back. That was why you were so afraid to talk to him now. And perhaps it was deserved, but he hardly gave you the time of day.

You tried making yourself busy. Cleaning surfaces you'd already cleaned and checking the gas gauge even though you knew it was full. By the time you heard Harry's shoes slapping against the wooden planks of the boardwalk, your hands were shaking from nerves.

He'd hardly handed you your sandwich when you blurted, "I'm sorry."

"For...what? Exactly?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.

"You were right. About what you said about me. I judged you too harshly when I hardly even know you. I'm sorry," you said, more to the sandwich than to Harry, but in your defense he had a very intense stare.

"I...don't accept your apology," he said, which did make you look at him.

You'd never had someone not accept an apology before, and it felt weird. "Um...okay?" Well, what the hell were you supposed to do now?

Harry grinned and came and sat down next to you, his arm stretching across the edge of the boat, bringing the two of you closer than you'd ever been before. "Not until you go surfing with me."

"I'm trying to apologize and you're asking me out?"

Harry threw his head back and laughed, clearly finding your assumption amusing. "No, though it's cute that that was your immediate thought," he said, still grinning. "I just want us to be friends. We work together all the time and I hardly know you outside the fact that you have a sister and you're slightly judgemental. I want to get to know you. As a friend."

"Oh, well, um, I suppose that's fair," you said. In theory, you shouldn't have cared about being friends, but you felt bad for judging him so harshly, so you almost felt like you had to say yes. "But—Can I just ask why surfing?"

"Because I feel like I need a leg up on you, and I'm rather excellent at surfing."

Now look who was judging, you thought, but you just nodded. "Okay. When?"

"After work today? There's a great spot close by. It's called Steamer—"

"The Lane. I know where it is," you said. Once you were up for it, Jackson had you training there. To test your skills and to be noticed by the right people. The Lane was where a lot of pros surfed, and Jackson told you that if you wanted to be one too, you needed to not only see your competition, you needed to surf what they were surfing too.

"I'm sixteen," you said. "Aren't they all, like, adults."

"You'll get there," he said.

"You think so?"

"Definitely."

"Oh, so you've been?" Harry asked.

"Mmhm. I grew up here, so," you shrugged, not wanting to give too much away.

"Hey, would you look at that. Another thing I know about you," he said, and you couldn't help but match his grin. And damn it if you started to want to be his friend. "So you'll come? I promise we'll be square."

You didn't really like surfing around anyone else anymore, but you also wanted to make things right with Harry. "Yeah. I can't be out too late, though. I have to make dinner for Paige."

"Fine by me."

The two of you quickly ate lunch after that, only having a little time before the next tour began. You were surprised to find yourself excited about spending time with Harry after the day was over. And things were lighter between the two of you too. He joked with you on the tours, and you surprised yourself by joking back. Harry offered to drive the boat , and you let him while you went out with the group in the water, and when you came out, you didn't feel his eyes on you. Not once. Who knew that all you had to do was be open and honest to have a healthy working relationship?

Okay, that was a stupid question, but you were there now, and you were relieved.

At the end of the day, you and Harry cleaned up and put everything away, and when you walked to the marina parking lot together, he made sure you were still going to the Lane with him. You promised to meet him there, and when you got in your car, you took a deep breath. You were really doing this.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you smiled to yourself. Harry had no idea what he was in for.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"So, you have boards, which means you're at least familiar with surfing, right?" Harry asked. He'd already changed into his wetsuit, and now you were the one trying not to openly stare. It just cut his figure perfectly.

"Uh, yeah," you said. You hoped he mistook your stuttering as nerves about surfing and not your dry mouth at seeing every inch of his muscles outlined by the wetsuit. "I—I know my way around."

"If you're nervous, don't be. I've been told I'm an excellent teacher."

That snapped you out of your daze. A small grin twitched the corner of your mouth. "Thank you. That's very kind."

"I'm a kind person. Not that you would know."

"Hurtful, but deserved, I suppose," you said, walking around to hide behind the side of your car to put on your own wetsuit. When you came back around, Harry gave you a once over. It was brief, but it felt...right somehow. And it gave you butterflies, ones that you definitely needed to ignore. "Ready?"

"So ready."

Harry offered to carry your surfboard for you, but you told him you were fine. He was actually very sweet now that you were away from work, giving you all these tips and pointers that you'd given to Paige when she started learning to surf. It was cute that he wanted to take care of you and make sure you were comfortable, but after you saw a perfect wave about to roll in, you couldn't pass it up. So, without even looking at him, you started to paddle for a wave you were sure Harry didn't even see.

"What are you—" he tried to ask, but you were already leaving him in the dust.

"I'll be back!"

And then you were off. Harry was a speck in your mind as the rest of the world fell away until it was just you and the wave cresting beneath your surfboard. You cut your board through the wave, riding it like it was second nature. And when you were getting close to shore, you jumped off, the safety tether tugging at your ankle a little.

As you paddled back towards Harry, you felt ten times lighter, like you were seeing everything in technicolor. That's what surfing did for you. It put everything into perspective, set the world back on its axis, everything just made sense when you were on the perfect wave.

Your smile was brighter than it had been in a while, and when you paddled back to Harry, it only grew.

"You—You're a liar. A dirty, dirty liar."

"I didn't lie," you said, sitting up on your board, your legs straddling either side of it.

"I asked you if you knew how to surf, and you said, 'I know my way around.' Liar!"

You giggled, like actually giggled. "It was very sweet of you to help. I didn't want to hurt your feelings or bruise your ego or anything."

"Bruise my—You really are something else, you know that?" Harry said, paddling closer to you. "I—I literally don't know what to say other than, uh, can you show me how you did that?"

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Surfing had kind of become your thing now.

You and Harry would go after you were done taking tourists out, you went out together and surfed. Sometimes you took Paige with you, sometimes it was just the two of you, and sometimes you even invited him out for your mornings on the water. He had somehow become a part of your life before your very eyes, and you weren't even mad about it.

Seeing him flirt with tourists was only mildly annoying to you, you bought each other lunch between tour breaks, and he constantly peppered you with questions about surfing—how long you'd been surfing, where you'd been, your favorite spots. It was like he suddenly needed to live vicariously through you.

"Portugal, for sure," you said, lying on your back.

"I can't believe you've been to Portugal. I can't believe your only worry was whether there would be good enough swells for a competition," Harry said, laying on his own board. He spoke like he was in awe of you, and it felt nice.

"It was...some of the best times of my life," was all you could say, too wrapped up in the past to think of anything else.

"So, why'd you stop?"

You shrugged. "Paige needed me."

Harry was quiet after that. It didn't take a genius to put the pieces together. You never talked about your parents, and it was just you and Paige.

"But enough about me," you said, eager to change the subject. "What about you? How'd you end up working for Jackson, Mr. Marine biology degree?"

"Oh you know me. Slept around, went to college, slept around some more..."

"Shut up, I said I was sorry," you said, splashing water in his direction. "And to be fair you do flirt with a lot of people."

"So, I'm flirtatious. Is that a crime?" he asked, but you could tell he wasn't offended. It wasn't like he could deny it.

"No, but you are deflecting."

"Only because you're so much more interesting," he said.

Sitting up on your board, you looked at him. "You're doing it again. If you want to remain a mystery just say that."

Harry shrugged, and you wondered why clammed up so much at the mere prospect of talking about himself. You weren't exactly incredibly forthcoming yourself, but you answered his questions, and you didn't know why he wasn't doing the same.

"It's just not that interesting. Moved to California for college, got my degree, fell in love with surfing, and realized I didn't need to be super wealthy to be fulfilled."

"So you just...give snorkel tours and surf. All day long," you said, trying to make sense of his lifestyle. He was like a younger version of Jackson, in a way.

"And have a lot of sex. Don't forget that part," he said, his dimples flashing as he grinned.

"Fuck off with that. I'm serious."

"And so am I!" Harry sat up and faced you. "Life's too short to worry about things you don't need to worry about. I just want to do what makes me happy."

"You sound like a former cancer patient or someone who had a near-death experience," you joked.

It was a joke, that's all it was, but from the look on Harry's face, it appeared you hit the nail on the head.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'm such a fucking idiot! I shouldn't have said anything. You—You don't have to say any—"

"Y/n, it's fine. You didn't know," he said, but he sounded different. More guarded.

"It was still a bad joke. I'm sorry. I'll just, I'll just go."

You thought he would stop you, but he didn't. He wouldn't even look at you. So after another mumbled apology, you paddled back to shore, not looking to see if Harry followed you. He didn't.

You were more embarrassed than when he called you out for being judgemental. Things for the last two weeks had been good. You and Harry were getting along, you joked with each other, you hung out outside of work. Everything was just clicking, and now you'd gone and fucked it up.

When you got back to your car, you didn't bother peeling your wetsuit off all the way. You just strapped your board to the top of your car and hightailed it out of there, dreading coming into work the next morning.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry didn't show up to work the next couple days, which made you feel even worse.

Did you somehow send him into a depressive spiral? Was he okay? Did someone need to check on him? Certainly not you, and you didn't think it was your place to ask Jackson about it.

So you went out on the boat with one of the new hires. They were quiet, a little too quiet. You'd become used to Harry's low drawl and the giggles he elicited from tourists. It was like background noise, and now your work days just felt off. Somehow, you'd grown fond of Harry, and you missed seeing him every day. Something Paige had no issue teasing you about when you brought it up once.

Your new tour partner was nice, but he was quiet and shy, and you were also pretty sure he was afraid of you, though you had no idea why. You tried your best to ignore it for the sake of your tourists, trying to give them the best experience possible. You'd even enlisted Paige's help while Harry was gone. At least then you'd have someone to talk to. Except when she stepped on the boat and met Remy, she was completely smitten, and he suddenly had lots to talk about.

"Figures," you muttered, cleaning up after your first tour of the day. Harry had been gone three days now, and you wondered if he was scared of you too. It seemed you had that effect on people.

Halfway through the week, Harry returned. He was in much better spirits than the last time you saw them, and since you were pretty sure you didn't know how to hold an emotionally charged conversation, you kept your distance. You were amicable, but kept Harry at arm's length, which was hard once you realized just how much you missed him. He brought this energy to the boat that went unmatched, and you'd grown comfortable around him, but obviously he didn't feel that way about you.

And it didn't help that he kept his distance too, so much so that it was almost back to when you first started working together. You stayed on opposite ends of the boat, which was hard considering its size. And the longer you went without talking, the worse you felt. You'd said something stupid, but you didn't think it was worth icing you out over. You felt alone, isolated, drifting farther and farther away from everyone, despite being right next to them.

You spent a lot more time alone in the water, waking up earlier and coming home later. Paige could tell something was up, but she'd been spending time with Remy and his family, and any time she asked if you wanted her to stay home, you told her to go and have fun. "Don't worry about me," was your mantra these days.

Your loneliness led to irritability, a feeling you hadn't felt since you were young and walking the Santa Cruz pier by yourself. It was easy to slip back into old behaviors. If Harry could be cold, so could you, and you were probably a lot better at it, though you weren't sure that was something to be proud of. Not that he noticed, anyway. It felt like he hardly even looked at you anymore. That was something you'd wanted when you first started working on the same boat, but now you missed it. And damn it, you missed him. But if he was going to be an ass, you weren't going to bother.

It was another early day at the marina, but when you got down to where your boat was docked, someone was already there.

"What do you want, Jack?"

"We're taking the day off today. Come on. Hop in," he said, firing up the engine when you were close enough. You knew he would take off without you, but honestly a day off sounded pretty good to you.

You got on and sat down on one of the worn leather benches by the front of the boat. You kept your eyes on the horizion, watching the world come to life as the sun rose, lighting up the sky and slowly warming your skin.

Jackson drove for a while until the coastline was a mere speck. He made sure you were far enough from the rest of the world, but close enough in case you needed to get back to the marina for an emergency. When he cut the engine and dropped the anchor, he sat down next to you, enjoying the stillness.

"I haven't seen you like this since you came up to my kneecaps," he finally said, keeping his eyes on the water.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, even though you did. You'd been more impatient lately, and quick to snap at anyone who tried to hold a conversation with you. You were professional with the tourists, but just barely, which was probably why Jackson pulled you from work today.

"He got under your skin, then?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you repeated.

Jackson sighed. "Well, it makes sense. Both of you are stubborn and have very poor emotional intelligence."

"He doesn't want to talk to me. I'm not going to force someone to have a conversation," you said with a shrug. It was the truth, but there was also more to it than that, and Jack knew it too.

"I know you won't."

You went back to sitting in silence, and you were thankful that Jackson dropped it. You didn't want to talk about Harry. Not when the thought of that day out on the water was the only thing that came to mind. You realized you messed up with that stupid joke you made, but was that really worth completely ignoring you over? You didn't think so, but then again, what did you know? You were the least equipped to handle situations like that, situations that involved feelings. And you did feel for him, you just didn't care to define them, not when Harry wasn't talking to you. There was no point.

"I think I'm unlovable," you said out of the blue. It was merely an observation, one that you only felt comfortable saying around Jackson because you knew he wouldn't judge you for it.

"Well, that's a load of bullshit," Jack said.

"Is it? My parents never cared about me or Paige, I've never had a steady boyfriend, and it only took a couple of weeks for Harry to hate me."

"You're gonna sit there and tell me Paige doesn't love you?" Jack said, and you could see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye. "That kid idolizes you. You're her hero."

That's when the tears came. Because when it all broke down, Paige was at the center of your world. You were eight years apart, and she was very different than you in a lot of ways, but you loved her. And she loved you. And nothing would ever change that.

"You should've never stopped competing. It made you so happy."

Wiping a tear with the sleeve of your sweater, you shook your head. "You know why I had to stop, Jack. I had to be here—"

"And that means what, exactly? You retire for good? We both know there are plenty of competitions around here, Y/n. You could've taken Paige with you, but you're here, wasting away. Why?"

"It's not that simple," you said, shaking your head. "And I couldn't take Paige around the world with me. She was thirteen."

"And what about when she's eighteen?" Jack pushed. "Keep working for a washed up hack like me? I'll fire you if you do."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Jack."

Sighing, he rested a hand on your shoulder. It was the most contact the two of you ever shared, as he wasn't a huge fan of physical touch. "You feel trapped here, but you were the one who built the cage, Y/n."

"That's—"

What? Not true? You knew it was. You'd been hiding in your house, on your tour boat, in Santa Cruz, for the last few years.

If you couldn't be the best, you didn't want to surf, at least not competitively. And hearing that your parents all but abandoned Paige while you were having the time of your life in a new country every few weeks was a harsh dose of reality. Your sister never held it against you, but you felt like you let her down, like deep down you knew that your parents would never stay, and yet you left to pursue your dream anyway. Giving it all up to take care of Paige was your way of making it up to her. And you'd been stuck ever since.

"What do I do about him?" you asked.

"Who, Styles? You scare the shit out of him, probably for the same reasons she scares the shit out of you."

"Gee, thanks. Really helping me feel loveable, Jack," you said, frowning at him.

He shrugged. "You know what I mean. There's a lot more going on ther than you think, but I can't be the one to tell you."

You side-eyed him. "Why do I get the feeling you like being a keeper of all these secrets and wisdom?"

"It's because I do."

You and Jack stayed out on the water for a while before eventually heading back. You were in your head for the entirety of the trip back to the marina, taking in everything he'd said. For a long time, you'd been complacent, living in Santa Cruz and raising Paige. And then you met Harry, and suddenly you're a mess. It didn't make any sense.

You like him, idiot, you could practically hear Paige say. But why was that so terrifying?

Maybe because he hadn't really opened up to you, maybe because you didn't really know him, or maybe because you'd never gotten butterflies around anyone like you did around him.

But what was probably the most likely reason was that you knew he didn't like you back. You'd been mean to him, you offended him, and now he hardly spoke to you. If that wasn't rejection, you didn't know what was. And you'd been rejected by enough people in your life.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to apologize to him one more time. And if things were still weird, you'd just ask Jackson to find you another tour partner. He'd give you a hard time about it, but you'd put up with it.

As Jackson parked the boat and you helped him tie it to the dock, you'd made your decision. It was the safe choice, but it was all you could muster.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next day you were back at work, only this time Harry had beat you to the boat. Normally you were the first one there, but you'd taken some extra time at the beach to relax your nerves. You had to talk to him, and you needed to prepare yourself for any outcome, whatever it might be.

"Hey," you said.

Harry looked up from where he'd been cleaning off snorkel goggles. "Oh. Hey."

Then silence. Neither of you said anything, but you didn't know what to say, how to begin.

"Listen, I—"

"I just wanted to—"

Both of you paused, apologizing for speaking over each other. You urged Harry to speak, but he insisted that you go first, so you swallowed the growing lump in your throat and tried to find your words.

"I'm—I'm sorry about the other day. I realize I was insensitive, and it obviously struck a chord with you. So, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Y/n. I told you that."

Frowning, you said, "Yeah, but I just feel like things have been off lately? And I couldn't help but think it was because of what I said or something I did. I just—I know we have to work together, and I don't want there to be any awkwardness. I know you, like, don't like me or whatever, but I thought we could at least be—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Back up. What do you mean I don't like you?" he asked. He looked confused, though you weren't sure why.

"You haven't spoken to me in weeks. I just thought—"

"You're a very intimidating person, you know that, don't you?" Harry said, taking a small step towards you. He was in a blue sweater and a pair of dark shorts, his feet bare as he stood on the boat.

Tilting your head curiously, you said, "I don't think—"

"You practically hated me when we first met, and it took me ages to get you to even...I don't know, tolerate me? And you're, like, drop dead gorgeous, so that made it ten times harder not to mess up in front of you, but nothing I did seemed to do the trick.

"And then all of a sudden we're friends, and it's great, and I find myself even more drawn to you than I already was because, like, fuck, Y/n, you're hot and interesting, and an amazing surfer, and I didn't stand a chance." He seemed to say all this in one breath, his chest heaving once he was done talking.

You didn't know what to say, or think for that matter. Harry thought you were gorgeous? "But—But you flirted with all those people right in front of me—"

"I told you, I didn't think I had a chance with you. You hardly even spoke to me at first," Harry said. "And, okay, so I like attention, and you weren't giving me any, so I saught it elsewhere, but it's just what I do to protect myself."

"Protect yourself? From what?" Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked tense, like having this conversation was causing him physical pain. "Harry, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I just thought—"

"I had cancer," he blurted.

Your eyes widened. That was not at all what you were expecting, and now you had too many questions. "What? When? Wh—"

"Osteosarcoma on my leg. Right before I left for college. I had to defer a year so I could do all the treatments."

"I'm sorry. That couldn't have been easy," you said gently. You wanted to go to him, but he didn't seem like the type that wanted to be coddled or comforted, so you stayed put.

"Thanks. I'm all good now, but when I was...doing my treatments, I had a girlfriend and friends, and they all checked up on me until one day they didn't, and I was left to face it by myself. My friends had their own lives and my girlfriend couldn't handle seeing me so sick. Imagine actually being sick," he chuckled bitterly.

"My parents were a wreck, and I had to be strong for them, but I had no one. My friends abandoned me, I broke up with my girlfriend because she couldn't stand to see me like that, and suddenly I was very alone.

"So once I was declared cancer free, I flew out here for school, learned to surf, and never looked back. This is my life now, and I try to live it to the best of my ability." He took another step towards you, taking off his baseball cap so he could run a hand through his hair before putting it back on. "But you. I wasn't expecting you."

"Me? What did I do?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You didn't do anything, and that's my point. You just appeared out of nowhere and upended my life. I suddenly want to know about your day and where you go after work, I want to hear stories about your travels, I want to just lay on the beach with you. And that's just the stuff I feel comfortable saying out loud."

He had you blushing, but his last comment sent you reeling. Trying to keep your composure, you asked, "So you've been ignoring me because?"

"Because I don't want to get hurt again! I'm terrified, Y/n. I'm terrified of the worst happening and being abandoned all over again," he said, his fingers gripping his sweater hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "So I tried to ignore you and hope it went away, and then Jackson tells me I'm an idiot because I was kicking you while you were already down, and he knew that I was only putting off the iniveitable, because while I tried to ignore how I felt, my feelings only grew. So now I'm standing here like an idiot, wondering what your color is and if your lips taste as good as they look."

If it was possible, your jaw would be on the floor. Harry had more or less repeated back to you your own feelings, making you realize you were more similar than you thought. It also occurred to you that Jack had been a very busy man recently, but you decided that could wait. Maybe both of you being terrified wrecks would lead to messiness, but you didn't really care.

"I like orange. Like a nice, sunset orange," you said, fiddling with a stray thread on your sweatshirt.

You'd missed seeing Harry's smile, but now it was back in full force. He closed the short distance between the two of you, his hand slowly and carefully resting on the side of your face. "And the other thing?"

You shrugged. "I've never had any complaints."

"You are just—"

"Shut up and just kiss me already, Harry."

He didn't argue with you then, but he did take his sweet time.

Not that you'd ever admit to it out loud, but you thought about this moment a lot. And in your thinking, you always assumed that Harry would try to rush things, to kiss brusingly with passion in a way that made your toes curl. And they did, but for an entirely different reason.

He was slow, like he really was trying to determine the exact taste of your lips. It nearly drove you insane. His tongue traced the seam of your lips languidly, his free hand holding your chin to keep you in place.

And it was amazing, but you needed more. So you skipped running your hands through his hair for now and went straight for beneath his shirt, splaying your hands across Harry's chest and feeling the taught muscle beneath your fingertips. And just as you assumed, Harry's reaction was immediate. One hand reached down past your lower back and gripped hard while the other was in your hair. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip and laughing lightly when you hissed.

Harry overloaded your senses, made you drunk on the taste and smell of him. His kiss made you see stars and his touch had you putty in his hands. It made you want to drag him off the boat and onto the bed of his truck, but you had work to do, there wasn't any time.

"God, working with you just got ten times harder, and I mean that quite literally," he said, hardly moving his lips away from yours. The implication alone sent shivers down your spine, but just for good measure, Harry pressed himself against you to show just how much a kiss had him reacting.

"Can we go somewhere? After work?" you panted, whining when he began to move down your neck, looking for the places that turned your knees into jelly.

"I'd be devastated if we didn't," he said, voice muffled from the kisses he was leaving on your skin. "You're gonna have to stay covered up, you know that right?"

You huffed a laugh, but you knew Harry was dead serious. All you said was, "We'll see."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

four months later

You were beyond nervous, your heart racing, practically begging to burst out of your chest.

During competitions, judges called out scores and what you needed to win, but you never paid them any mind, too focused on the task at hand, which was to find the next wave and surf the hell out of it.

Training for competitions again wasn't easy, but it was a challenge you willingly accepted. You realized that Jackson was right (about a lot of things) and you could get back out onto the competitive circuit, even if it was only local stuff.

Harry, Paige, and Jackson helped you train, but mostly Jackson, Harry and Paige were more of a support system, something you'd never had before. It was weird at first, but you welcomed it with open arms. It was a much better alternative to constantly being alone.

And Jackson could only take you so far. If you wanted to win, you had to believe you could, and for a while, you didn't.

That's where Harry came in. He motivated you, kissed away the wrinkle between your brows when you thought too much, and was a very big help in getting you to "relax." Whether that was in the back of his truck, on the boat after almost everyone left the marina, or your place when Paige was at a sleepover, all you had to do was look at each other, and you'd drop everything and be on each other in seconds. You used to think Harry's flirting was over the top and unnecessary, but now that you were on the receiving end of his bedroom eyes you were hardly ever able to say no.

But aside from all that, Harry helped you in the confidence department too. He made you realize that your dreams were still worth pursuing, and told you you were good enough when you couldn't believe it yourself. He revealed to you a softer, more vulnerable side that you'd never seen before, but he always told you that you brought it out of him. "We're in this together," he'd tell you, kissing the top of your hand or the side of your head, or your knee, depending on where he was next to you.

You'd thought you were okay with complacency, that you'd had your fun, and that you'd left it all behind you when you came home. But you found new adventures at home with Paige and Harry, who were also thick as thieves the more they hung out with each other. Harry seamlessly became a part of your lives, and you wouldn't change a single thing about it.

"Y/n, you won!"

"Huh?"

You were just stepping out of the water, your surfboard under your arm when Harry jogged up to you and Paige slammed into your side. She began to jump with her arms still locked around you, jolting you to the point of discomfort, but you let her.

"You won! You had the highest score of the day!" Paige said again.

"I did?" You looked over to the judges booth and saw that your sister was right. Your competition number along with the color of your rash guard was at the top of the leaderboard for your group. You'd won.

"You did, baby. I'm so proud of you," Harry said. Paige stepped aside so he could pull you in for a hug, and you rested your cheek against his shoulder, his skin warm from standing out in the San Diego sun.

You weren't traveling the world, but sometimes you and Paige, or you, Paige, and Harry made road trips along the coast to local competitions. It was fun and a way for the three of you to bond. In the last four months, you'd become something like a little family, a reality you never ever saw for yourself.

"You can relax now, you did it," Harry whispered so only you would hear. He knew how tense you got about these things, even though you'd pretty much gone undefeated since you started competing again.

Pulling back, Harry kissed your forehead and let go of you, telling you to go get your prize so the three of you could go and celebrate. You did as he said, splitting apart from Harry and Paige and smiling faintly as you heard your sister babble to Harry about all the stuff she wanted to see before you had to head home.

It wasn't the life you expected, nor was it the life you ever thought you would deserve, but as you stepped off the podium and into Harry's awaiting arms, you couldn't have asked for a better one.