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diminuel · 1 day

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I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!

As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.

No beta, sorry for mistakes.

This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥

Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)

“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.

“Just-“

He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.

And then it was dark.

This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.

“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.

Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.

“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.

Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.

A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.

“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.

“Huh?”

“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.

“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.

What?

“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.

“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.

“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.

“What is going on?” he yelled.

There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.

Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.

Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.

Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…

“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…

Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!

“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.

What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?

(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)

“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.

“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.

“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.

It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.

He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.

Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.

“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.

“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”

“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”

“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.

“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?

Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”

“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”

“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”

“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”

“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!

“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.

“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”

“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?

“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.

“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.

“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.

“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.

“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.

“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”

“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.

“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.

“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”

“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”

For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?

Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!

“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.

“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”

“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”

“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”

“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.

“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.

“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.

Baba looked impossibly young.

“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.

“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.

“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.

“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.

“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.

“Baba-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”

“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.

“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.

“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”

“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”

To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.

#One Piece #Crocodad #Monkey D. Luffy #Sir Crocodile #my fic

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majedalgherbawi · 17 hours

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Dear Friends,

I write to you with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. After 188 days of displacement, constant fear, and struggling to survive, we managed to escape with our lives and reach Egypt. But the pain didn’t stop there. Just yesterday, we lost my children's grandfather 💔, not due to direct war, but because of malnutrition and the lack of basic life necessities. We couldn’t save him, just as we couldn’t save our home or our dreams.

The rest of my family is still trapped in the war, suffering the same harsh conditions that led to the passing of my children's grandfather. We are here trying to build a new life, but we have lost everything. We lost our home, and my children were deprived of their schools and universities. Even my eldest son, who worked so hard to build his future, lost his job and saw his dreams shattered.😔

We are now in desperate need of your help. We seek to secure a safe home that will provide us and our children with basic needs. Life in Egypt is extremely difficult, and prices are soaring beyond our reach. All we ask for is a chance to rebuild our lives and secure a better future for our children.🙏🏼

From the depths of my heart, I ask you to stand by us in these difficult times. Your support means hope and life to us.🙌🏼🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/59e9578a

#artists on tumblr #free palestine #animation

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padfootagain · 2 days

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Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

#hozier #the hoziest #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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ticklygiggles · 1 day

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A snowman, a crow and a kitten | Sylus, Zayne x fem!reader [n$fw]

Commissioned by @otomiyaa

A/N: BABYYYY thank you so much for your kind suppoooort 💕❤️💖 I'm sorry it took me ages to finish dkfndknff I decided to write this in first person to go along with the game, I hope you liiiike it. I personally don't know how to feel about it dkdndkdb anyways thank you so much love 💕 I hope you enjoy this! 💞💓💖

Summary: You're simply their little toy.

Words: 3k+

His hands on my body were like a shower of sparks, each one exploding on my skin in a flash of pleasure. I felt like I was floating in a sea of sensations, without control, without direction, just going with the flow. His fingers were everywhere, caressing my skin like feathers, light, yet persuasive. My mind would cloud, my breathing would quicken, and my body would surrender, giving in to the sensations.

Within a second his hands were squeezing my hips, his thumbs digging into my bones, making me arch my back and gasp between raucous laughs. The next second, his fingers found the warmth under my arms and wiggled them playfully against the very center of my armpits, making me cry out with joy, tears streaming down my face.

How long had he been tickling me? A few minutes? Hours? Days? I didn't know and I didn't care, because I was addicted to that feeling of pleasure that was building up between my legs, making me moan loudly and freely.

"Will it be your laughter or your moans that will make the neighbors complain about the noise?” I could barely hear his delicious, deep voice over the incessant noise escaping from between my lips. A noise somewhere between a laugh, a gasp, a moan, and a sob. Something that didn't sound like me at all.

My hands desperately clung to his wrists, trying to pull away his hands that slowly immersed me in a whirlwind of pleasure and sensations that made my brain short-circuit.

“Do you want me to stop?" Zayne asked, his body on top of mine, keeping me pinned against the couch, his lips caressing my ear, making me shiver and causing my skin to prickle. My mind was screaming 'yes! I want you to stop! I can't stand it another second', but my head shook from side to side vigorously, even though my chest was already hurting from the lack of oxygen and the muscles of my stomach and sides were burning.

His soft laugh made me shiver. "Good girl." Zayne kissed my earlobe before pulling back, as if to admire the state I was in. I felt even more heat rising to my cheeks from my neck. I knew I didn't look at all attractive right now. I was probably as red as a cherry, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I also felt a trickle of saliva escaping from my huge forced smile and falling down my chin. Not charming at all, and yet, Zayne stared at me as a predator would look at prey. His green eyes darkened with lust, his tongue licking his lips and his cheeks flushed.

Who would have thought that tickling me would cause such a turn on in Zayne? I could feel his hard cock against my clothed pussy and I moaned, feeling like I was going crazy.

“Z-Zayne, please!” I sobbed between laughs. "P-Please!”

“Hmm? What do you want, little tickle toy?” I sobbed out a few more words with difficulty, for my laughter would not cease. “I cannot hear you. Would you stop laughing?”

“I c-cahan't, I-"

“Ah, so you were busy.”

My laugh caught in my throat. Zayne and I both quickly looked towards the door and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I saw who was entering my house.

“S-Sylus?! W-What are you doing-”

“I sent Mephisto to check on you, but you didn't open the window. I see why now.”

Sylus chuckled, looking at me, then at Zayne. His eyes moving to the hands under my arms and the position Zayne and I were in. I froze, not knowing what to do. Zayne looked at my guest with a raised eyebrow and seemed confused as well. I wanted the earth to swallow me up.

“A little crow came to say hello, it seems.” Zayne's voice was too calm, a chill ran down my spine.

Sylus smirked. “I came to check on my kitten, I thought she was going to be bored, but I see she's in good company.”

“Yes. You can leave now.”

“I don't wanna,” Sylus said, finally, finally, closing the door behind him. “Besides, you're doing it all wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

My heart raced as I watched Sylus approach us. My hands that were clinging to Zayne's shoulders were suddenly grabbed tightly and placed high above my head. I squealed and arched my back, my breath hitching in my throat as I looked up at Sylus. He looked at me with a mischievous smile and eyes shining with mischief.

“She likes being pinned down,” Sylus explained, as if I wasn't there between the two. “She loves having no escape from her tickles, don't you, kitten?” My only response was a whimper and Sylus took it as a yes, of course. “Tell you what, Zayne. Why don't I stay up here for a while.” Zayne arched an eyebrow. “And you can do whatever you want down there.”

Sylus jerked his chin towards my legs and Zayne looked down, his eyes widening for a second before his fingers touched my still covered pussy. I moaned, bucking my hips up.

“You're leaking,” Zayne mumbled and I gasped, looking at the tips of his fingers. Zayne looked between my legs for a moment and then he looked up at Sylus. “Fine.”

My eyes widened as Sylus let out a deep chuckle. “We'll take turns, then.”

In an instant, their hands were on me. I tensed thinking they were going to tickle me, but to my horror, Zayne hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and underwear and pulled them down. I squealed, bringing my legs together to hide my pussy, but Zayne grabbed my knees and easily spread my legs apart, completely exposing me to him.

Meanwhile Sylus grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it off, exposing my breasts. Unlike my shorts and panties, the shirt only reached my elbows and a heavy gasp escaped my mouth when I felt Sylus sitting on my arms. My eyes moved from Zayne to Sylus and back again.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and I was only able to say something when Zayne suddenly lowered his head between my legs. I moaned and shivered as I felt Zayne's warm lips on the inside of my left thigh, he trailed kisses from my knee to my groin and my breath caught in my throat when I felt his lips pressing on my pussy.

I moaned Zayne's name, arching my back a little and closing my eyes. Zayne kissed me again and I shivered in pleasure once more and moaned softly. His next kiss was directly on my clit, he had separated my lips to discover that little spot and as he pressed his mouth against it, I felt like I was going to cum just like that. His tongue played with my clit for a second, before it slid all over my pussy, tasting my juices before returning to my clit.

“Oh, Zayne!” I cried, moaning and writhing as his tongue circled my hard clit. My nipples hardened and my skin covered in goosebumps. His tongue licked, fluttered and pressed against my clit mercilessly, making me let out loud sounds of pleasure. “I'm g-going to cum! Nghh!” He sucked on it, holding my legs that rested over his shoulders to keep me in place.

It felt so good, my eyes crossed as I felt that tingle of my upcoming orgasm, my legs shook, but I had forgotten about Sylus… until I felt his fingers in my armpits.

A loud laugh bubbled out of me, I pulled at my arms desperately, trying to get them out from under Sylus, but it was impossible. His agile and light fingers buried themselves in my armpits, wiggling, poking, squeezing, prodding- just every single thing he knew would make me laugh in hysterics.

“Sylus!” I squealed, feeling the tingles of my climax fading away. “S-Stohohop! PLEHEHEASE!”

“Oh c'mon, don't act as if you are not enjoying yourself, sweetie.” I shook my head, but groans began to filter through my laughter and my cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. “You're such a weird little miss,” he chuckled. “Getting off by getting tickled? That is certainly something you don't hear all the time.”

I shook my head again, trying to grit my teeth to stop my laughter, but then Sylus increased the speed of his tickling and I could only howl in hysterics. When I thought I would go crazy from the tickling in my armpits, suddenly Sylus' fingers moved to my nipples and I moaned as he squeezed and flicked them. My hips circled and I grind harder against Zayne's mouth; he barely flinched while I was being tickled, I just felt his fingers digging a little deeper into my thighs, trying to keep me still.

“Y-Yes! F-Fuck yes! F-Faster, Zayne, please. Fa- ahahaha!” Again the stupid tickling under my arms. I groaned in frustration, but then started laughing out loud. “Sylus, pl-please! DOHOHON'T!”

“Look how much you're grinding against Zayne,” Sylus purred. “You are such a weird one.”

I hated that his teasing, although humiliating, made me feel even hornier; my moans getting deeper and louder, mingling with my hysterical laughter and the squeals that escaped my mouth. I felt hot all over my body. The fingers digging under my arms and into my thighs; Sylus teasing my nipples, Zayne eating me out- it all just felt too much.

Soon my legs started to shake as Sylus’s fingers did a weird dance, first tickling my armpits and then teasing my nipples, back and forth, back and forth. Zayne on the other hand, pushed two fingers inside me, hooking them up and touching that tender spot within me while his tongue circled faster and harder around my clit. The tingling came back, my breath became erratic, my moans desperate and as my eyes rolled back into my skull, I finally reached that wonderful peak, letting myself fall from the edge into a sea of pleasure that made my whole body tremble like crazy.

Tingly sparks washed over me and I even forgot to think, to breathe, my mind went blank and it seemed like I had been suspended in a subspace of satisfaction… until my body started to come back to his senses and the sensations immediately overwhelmed me, making me shriek, scream in desperation.

Sylus was still very busy tickling me under my arms while Zayne kept using his tongue on my pussy while his fingers pressed and rubbed that delicate spot inside me. I was going crazy, in my head it seemed like I could hear a noise like static, I couldn't think of anything else but what those two were doing to me. My skin felt a little uncomfortable, wet with a light layer of sweat, sticking to the couch. I felt exhausted, I couldn't defend myself... and I didn't want to.

“Zayne.” I could barely hear Sylus's voice over my screams and hysterical laughter and some pleas that made no sense, neither to them nor to me.

“Hmm?”

“Are you having fun there? She already cum, so I think it's my turn.”

Zayne finally stopped, leaving my pussy pulsing and clenching. “You said you wanted her breasts.”

“And I also said we would share.” Sylus moved his hands down to my ribs and I arched my back, begging for him to stop, but he didn't hear me, or rather, he pretended not to hear me. “Stop acting like a spoiled child, Zayne, and move your ass up here.”

The tickling finally stopped and I went limp against the couch. My body was twitching, my pussy clenching, my armpits and ribs titillating with the residual tickles. I groaned, letting out a sigh when Sylus let go of my arms, but my body didn't move at all. Was I that tired? No, I just... didn't want them to stop yet. I opened my eyes, my vision blurred by tears, and looked at them both and brows furrowed in disappointment

Sylus laughed, his voice echoing through my small apartment. "Why are you making that face? Weren't you asking us to stop, kitten?” Sylus positioned himself between my legs, making me gasp. “Now you want to continue? You're a very indecisive little lady, aren't you?" His huge hands caressed my thighs, grabbing my leg behind my knee and putting it over his shoulder. He was smirking down at me, raising an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. “So?”

I swallowed hard and tensed when I felt Zayne sitting on my arms. I whimpered, looking at them both again.

“Should we stop…”

“... Or continue?”

I whined, my body bouncing. “J-Just d-do i-iiit! I d-don’t- ack! Ahahahaha!”

I was surprised at how different the tickling was from both of them. Sylus was a bit rougher, not to the point of pain, but enough to make my sensitive skin turn red within seconds. He liked to dig his fingers in my skin, teasing my muscles and making me jump. Zayne, on the other hand, was a little gentler, his fingers fluttering against my armpits. Drawing random shapes with his delicate fingertips, scratching my skin, poking me, scribbling– just any touch that made my skin cover in goosebumps as I laughed and laughed and laughed.

I jumped with a small scream when I felt Sylus grab my hips and I begged between giggles that he wouldn't tickle me there, but he didn't do it, instead, he grabbed me firmly and my eyes widened as I felt his dick entering me, fast and hard.

“Sylus!” I gasped, lifting my head to see that he had just pulled his dick out, his pants still on.

“You'll hurt her.” I heard Zayne said, his hands stopping.

“I won't,” Sylus answered with a growl; his eyes fluttering closer as he got used to my pussy… and I tried to get used to his huge cock.

He filled me so nicely. His warmth made me shudder, his tip immediately hitting that sweet spot, making me cross my eyes in ecstasy. Sylus chuckled after just a few seconds and when I looked at him, he was smirking down at me, making me moan and jerk my hips slightly.

“Do you want me to move, kitten?”

I nodded desperately, opening my mouth and choking on my saliva. Sylus chuckled lowly, and I felt his cock moving out of me before he thrust hard into me, our bodies making a 'slap!' sound that echoed throughout the house. I gasped, arching my back and throwing my head back. He rammed into me again and I moaned loudly as he began to pick up speed, thrusting his cock into me again and again until my moans turned into screams of pleasure.

“F-Faster! Pl-Plea- Faster!”

I gasped as I felt Zayne's cold hand grip my jaw and twist my head to the side. My eyes widened as I saw his massive erection milliliters away from my face.

“Be a good girl and open your pretty mouth.”

I whimpered, but I obediently did what I was told. I opened my mouth wide and salivated at the slight salty taste of Zayne's precum. He let me get used to his length, first inserting the tip, my tongue licking up all the precum, making him furrow his brow and breathe raggedly. He then pushed himself deeper and deeper into my throat; I was so used to having him inside me that I no longer felt nauseous from having him all the way in. Zayne threw his head back, exhaling and shuddering. I tightened my throat and he growled, pushing his hips back before he rammed into my throat.

Tears were streaming down my face as they both used me however they wanted and my arousal continued to grow as I felt them filling my pussy and mouth. Sylus moaned deeply, without shame. He liked to show how good I made him feel and he said it without thinking:

“Ah! What a g-good girl, so t-tight for me. You really like my cock, kitten? Y-You're clenching me so nicely. Ngh!”

Zayne was quieter. He bit his bottom lip and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth to keep from making any noise, But as my throat tightened around his cock and one of my shaking hands began to play with his balls, Zayne had no choice but to moan loudly, throwing his head back.

I felt dizzy. I could barely breathe with Zayne in my throat, and the pleasure was driving me crazy. Sylus had started playing with my clit as he kept going in and out of me and my moans and whimpers caused vibrations against Zayne's dick that made him moan more.

I was losing it. I couldn't focus my thoughts on anything but these two men touching me and making me feel so good. As I felt that delicious tingle building inside me, I was almost sure I would pass out before I came, but I didn't. My body trembled and convulsed as currents of pleasure washed over me. I came like I had never come before, my skin covered in goosebumps from head to toe and I sobbed and cried and moaned and whimpered as Sylus milked my orgasm until his movements started to overstimulate me. It tickled, but it also felt overwhelming.

My jaw and the corners of my mouth hurt. My throat was starting to burn, but soon, with just a couple of thrusts from Zayne, he came inside my mouth. I tried to swallow as much of his load as I could, but it still leaked out of the corners of my mouth. Zayne shivered and breathed rapidly as he recovered from his climax. I coughed as he pulled his cock out of my throat and moaned Sylus' name as I begged:

“S-Stop! Angh! I j-just c-came s-stop, please!” I sobbed, but Sylus didn't listen to me, he grabbed my hips and fucked me harder and faster until I felt his warm seed filling me. I shuddered as he trembled in pleasure, thrusting against me a few more times to ride his orgasm.

I sighed tiredly, relaxing my shivering, twitchy body into the couch as my breaths echoed off the walls of my house. I closed my eyes, feeling like I was floating and almost falling asleep until I felt Sylus pulling his cock out of my pussy. I moaned, my legs shaking, I opened my eyes heavy from sleep and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that Zayne was now between my legs, his dick so hard as if he hadn't come in my mouth just moments ago.

“W-What?”

“It's my turn,” he said and before I could say anything else, he pushed himself inside me and I sobbed with pleasure before bursting into laughter as mischievous fingers began tickling my ribs.

The sensation was so intense that I felt like the world was spinning around me.

“What's the matter, kitten? I thought you wanted to play. Let's keep playing, shall we?”

I still had a long night ahead of me, and my insides churned with excitement, my pussy clenching around Zayne, so eager to feel the pleasure these two men had in store for me; even if it meant passing out halfway there, but I was sure that these two were not going to allow it, after all, they only wanted my pleasure and hear my pretty voice calling their names through my sweet moans.

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love and deepspace tickling #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #ticklish!reader #tickle fic #spicy #n$fw #mia's things #commissions

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chaifootsteps · 3 days

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was reading this: https://www.tumblr.com/fantasywater/761286441867313152/a-curiosity-about-stolass-love-for-blitz

and though I wouldn't word it entirely the same way as OP, they've got a point. we're supposed to think that Stolas has found a new lease on life after meeting Blitz, but from what we're shown on screen that isn't true at all and he's still the exact same person (if anything he's worse since he hasn't meaningfully changed at all and is in denial about all his own flaws and how he's hurt both Blitz and Via)

He's still drinking himself into blackouts and pretty obviously not taking his medication properly or regularly if he eats a fistful in one episode and runs out unexpectedly in another. He's still miserable most of the time. He can't make friends because he lacks the ability to form any real connections with anyone (or to be kind enough to make them want to put up with his self pitying behavior)

I tend to reflexively dislike comparisons between Blitz and Stella because it implies Blitz is abusive (which he's not, that's Stolas) but it's clear that Stolas responds to difficulties in his relationships with them in the exact same way. He self medicates with booze or pills, usually after either a serious self-pity session or snapping back at them, or both. He doesn't talk to them about their feelings, just grandstands about his own

And they are superficially similar. They respond to things that hurt them in a fiery way - they don't take shit lying down like Stolas does. As OP pointed out, Blitz struggles with illiteracy - the same thing Stolas mocked Stella for.

the only positive difference that I can see is that Stolas enjoys the sex with Blitzo a lot more than with Stella - and that's a benefit only Stolas is enjoying. we don't really have the evidence to say that Blitzo enjoys sex with Stolas more than he has any other partner he's had who was decent in bed - he responds to Stolas with revulsion, then disinterest, then resignation, then him being horny just because Stolas is convenient and they were having a meetup anyway, then finally anxious codependency and trauma bonding post break up. We never see genuine affection from him

this show doesn't seem to understand relationships need more than a functional sex life to work properly. because if you take that out of the equation, it just looks like Stolas hasn't escaped the pattern of conflict in his marriage at all

all he's done is replace a partner who is closer to his social standing with one who is far beneath it, in order to give himself all the power and leverage. and he does it without acknowledging that consciously or not, that is definitely the case.

the darkest possible reading here is that Stolas unconsciously wanted someone who was on the surface similar to Stella - less educated than him, will fight back and snap if provoked - so that he could recreate the relationship dynamic wherein he is the victim who isn't being given enough love even though he's trying oh-so-hard to make things work and they just aren't appreciating him enough. and it indicates a perpetuation of the cycles of abuse - if you take the reading that Stella didn't care about Stolas' feelings while they were trying to conceive, Stolas is now doing that exact thing to Blitzo during sex with a bucketload of classism on top

Got to say, Anon, it's spooky how plausible that darkest possible reading is. Whether Stolas does the things he does consciously or not, it's insane that anyone can look at all of this and not at least acknowledge the possibility that people might find it fucked up.

#Anonymous #stolitz critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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reality-detective · 1 day

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NCSWIC- "Nothing Can Stop What Is Coming"

What can't be stopped? TRUTH!

And there's a lot of people who aren't ready to hear the truth. Why? 👇

NOBODY ESCAPES THIS!

The battlefield is the 14" between your mind and your heart. The mind is the devil, inside of you(evil begins with a thought, lack of faith), the heart(is where love is), it's the God within you. If you get a bad feeling in your gut about anything? Listen to that because that is God trying to tell you something.

You're fighting a spiritual battle... The mind to the heart = | (the vertical part of the cross), the devil to the angel = - (the horizontal part). The gut (your 2nd brain) is closer to the heart. The † is where the battlefield is and it's what you are fighting for, to save yourself.

Why is the devil on your left shoulder? Why is the Angel on your right shoulder? 👇

A wise man’s heart turns him toward the right [which is the way of blessing], but a fool’s heart turns him toward the left [which is the way of condemnation].

Ecclesiastes 10:2

Go Within or Go Without and don't follow the herd.👇

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad and easy to travel is the path that leads the way to destruction and eternal loss, and there are many who enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow and difficult to travel is the path that leads the way to [everlasting] life, and there are few who find it."

Matthew 7: 13-14

It's Your Yin and Your Yang 👇

It's a war within to conquer your darkness so you spend more time in the light. Once you bring everything within you into proper balance ⚖️ the battle stops. 👇

The devil and the angel vanish and all that's left is the "I AM" within you.

YOU are the way to the TRUTH and the LIGHT!

No one is coming to save you.

Once you realize this, you will see and feel a whole lot more, your intuition comes to life and everything is clearly visible. 🤔

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 23 hours

Text

Rat Bastard - Part 7

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8900

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers

A/N: I wrote this in less than a day and none of it followed any of the plans I had for this story. This new laptop makes it too easy to write and it might end up adding extra chapters to this fic. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

The silence that sat down atop both of your heads after that door closed tight, leaving you and him completely alone together for the first time in literally forever was about as loud as anything you’d ever experienced.

Kyungsoo stood just inside of the drab entryway and you had been lingering closer to the hallway that would take you further into the shelter. You watched his face for a while, trying to gauge the mood he would be in to find himself trapped in here with you for at least one night, maybe two if things got wild at the hospital and Mr. Chen wasn’t able to get away as he promised.

How would he feel about this? The relationship and you used that word strictly for lack of any other word to describe the you and the him, had been strained from the start, downright hostile at times, and only very recently kind of sort of settled into this civil agreement in which you did not antagonize him and he did not antagonize you -- much.

It wasn’t a friendly relationship for he himself had told you quite brutally last night that he had no interest in being your friend, but lately, with the interactions that had grown just a little bit softer, the chat you’d had with him out on the patio as he made you ramen and teased you about your sexual optimism, the silly time passing game of stating a personal preference between two completely inconsequential things and you found, much to your surprise that you and he shared more than a few minor tastes in common; the fright you had been triggered into with the spiders in the movie and the genuine comfort you felt from him; it felt almost as if something somewhere might be changing. Were you, just as you had been with the threat from the fake spiders, simply imagining the entire thing?

“Well, shit,” Kyungsoo whispered mostly to himself after the heavy door slammed shut and you looked up into his face to catch the smallest furrow of his brows and the frown of his lips.

Was this a worst case scenario for him? Trapped alone with the girl he never wanted to be trapped with? Having gone out of his way all those months ago to ditch her on that stupid blind date and she just had to be pathetic enough to pick a fight with him about it, and then about anything and everything she could find to fight about and just when he thought he’d escaped that nightmare of a person she shows up here and not only is she forced upon him by the staff here but now he’s somehow charged with feeding her and entertaining her? You could see it in his face. He looked disappointed as evidenced by the furrow and the frown.

You pulled your arms up and crossed them over your chest, pulling your eyes down and away from that disappointed look you saw in his eyes and you made a deal with yourself then and there; you would not be a burden. You would keep as good a distance as this situation allowed and behave yourself as far as your temper or your tangled feelings for the man were concerned. You wouldn't let it show just how far down this pathetic rabbit hole you’d fallen of uninvited attraction and unrequited love. You’d treat him with disinterest, maybe casual civility that a shop worker would get, or that old man at the grocery store who made a friendly joke about the price of eggs and you provided the required perfunctory laugh at exactly the right pitch and tone to be deemed socially acceptable. That was what you would do, you would perform as expected by society in such a situation.

It wasn’t his fault that you’d allowed this little crush to fester deep inside your stomach; and for a man who didn’t even desire friendship from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d let your heart run away with your mind. It didn’t have to happen with this man.

You felt a slight burning in your stomach, just below your breastplate and you placed a palm over the space where you felt the pain. You knew enough about your body to recognize that you were just feeling the aftereffects from the panic from earlier. It always came as an upset stomach that burned and ached usually for hours after your heightened emotions had run their course.

“What is it?” You hadn’t expected his attention but he must have seen your hand sink down hard just over the space at the top of your stomach. He must have noticed the look of discomfort on your face that you quickly blanked away with the drop of your hand.

“Nothing,” you said flatly dropping the subject entirely before he had a chance to probe or suspect more of you and you lifted a hand to half shrug into the air, “umm… did you want to finish the movie or … maybe play another game?”

His lips parted and he closed them up, his eyes briefly leaving your face and glancing behind you into the dark hallway from where you both had come.

When he didn’t answer you right away you inhaled to speak again, before you sounded like his own liability that he had to deal with, “you don’t have to do either, if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to entertain me or anything, I can figure something out for myself if you just want to be alone.”

You’d already spun on your heels, determined with your newfound resolve to be exactly as aloof and unaffected by anything he said or did as required by society to keep the peace; taking the first few steps away from him and turning back toward the dim light from the open kitchen door that you could barely make out as a direction in which you should travel.

“We could,” the first sounds of his voice stopped your steps and you turned your face in his direction, not committing to turning around the whole way, “play something, if you want.”

“Not Monopoly again, I swear to God,” you said with a finger lifted into the air and you heard the soft chuckle that came from behind you.

“Awww, my little Princess didn’t like the bitter taste of defeat?” You could hear the joking tone in his voice and weirdly that strong feeling of uncertainty you’d felt only moments earlier seemed to change with the teasing tone he used with you. Changed into what? You wouldn’t say, but it was only a slightly more comfortable feeling. There was a burning sensation just under the skin below your cheekbones and you thanked whatever god was responsible for putting you in this darkened hallway during this moment for the cover that would keep the blush from being noticed by him. You were imagining the softness you heard in that nickname. This man did not hold any affection for you.

Inside the kitchen you returned to the familiar set up that you had left, only it felt wildly different. Gone was the soft comfy feeling of the mattresses on the floor, the pillows set up at your back and the fluffy down winner’s blanket sat in a tangled clump on the floor beside the bed that you both had occupied. The briefest of thoughts flittered by -- would you be able to smell him in it now? That clean, crisp fragrance he seemed to carry with him, would those microscopic molecules be wound into the spaces in between your one thousand threads ready to drift inside of your nose, bringing you back to the moment below the blanket when his fingers intertwined between your own and he held your hand, keeping you grounded and still connected to this world. The comfort he had given you then, but why? To keep you from embarrassing yourself or maybe him? You couldn't find the reasoning for it anywhere inside of you, but this wouldn't be the first time that man did something you couldn't understand.

The burning was back. You had an absentminded hand running over the spot on your belly and your feet carried you to the spot beside the fridge where the water bottles sat. You ‘d seen an electric kettle there and you busied yourself grabbing a mug and heating the water. Behind you, Kyungsoo was looking through the games again, trying to find something that he could no doubt destroy you with again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight this time, you felt too distracted.

The water was heated and you poured some into a cup, finding that plain hot water always soothed your stomach the best and you returned to his side to peer over his shoulder holding your mug.

He glanced over at you and down at the mug, making no comment about either, and then he held up a game. It was your game. It was the first game, a word game you’d picked to play with a nostalgic and hopeful glint in your eye.

“We can play this one, if you want,” he said with a bit of a whisper as if you two weren’t the only ones in this entire building, “it’s still fun even with only two people.”

You nodded and took a seat near him but not close enough so he could cheat and look at your letters and he quietly set up the game, not once looking directly at your face for too long apart from the smallest of brushes with his eyes into yours as he handed you bits and pieces for the game.

You settled into your seat and took a good long look at the letters you had to pick from, picking a few up and shuffling them to see if you could come up with something good and after a few moments you settled on something that was actually pretty decent, especially for the first round. The realization pulled a small smile to your face and you grabbed the letters to place them on the board. He’d already told you that you could go first and as you began placing your tiles on the board you looked up to find that he was watching you, of course he was; you were playing the first word. This word would determine what he could or couldn’t play from his letters.

You played your word and did the math, giving yourself a nice start with 20 points and you wrote down the number on the pad of paper and looking up at him expectantly. You had expected him to be paying attention to the word, to be impressed by your intelligence. You had managed to spell that word on your very first go. You had expected him to feel thoroughly challenged by the force he had to reckon with.

He sat there though, his eyes watching you but something about his mind seemed disconnected from the game. Your smile at your own move slipped just a little bit, falling flat because he hadn’t even looked at the word you played yet. He just sat there with his shoulders relaxed, his unshuffled letters sitting there in front of him, he didn't even have his fingers on them, rearranging and thinking as you would have expected. He just sat there -- it was odd. You lifted your chin and wiggled your head, lifting your eyebrows and you heard an inhale as he took a deep breath and exhaled as he slowly pushed the air through his lips and when he was empty his eyes closed up. He gave his head a little shake back and forth and finally, finally his eyes left your face.

Finally he was looking down.

“Oh you played that, hmm,” you heard him mumble and he was back. All at once, his fingers were touching lightly over his letters, picking some up, moving them, shoving some aside, actually thinking about the game in front of him instead of whatever in the world he had been so distracted by.

You lifted your mug and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the hot water warm the inside of your stomach a little bit. The pain was still there even after another sip and you looked down at the mix of letters you had thinking of what word you might play next. You adjusted your posture some, lifting a hand to rub just below your breastplate again, wishing that knot would just go down and be done so you could win this game already.

Kyungsoo had played his word, counted out his points, and wrote a sad little 16 under his name. You were already winning. The self-satisfied smile was back, it had replaced the wince on your face when you realized you already had your next word. You played it quickly and tallied up your numbers. 24 -- He really didn’t stand a chance.

You heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound pulled your attention up to the man who was standing up and walking away from you toward the kitchen cabinets at the back wall.

“It’s your turn, Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back.

“I know, I’m just getting something real quick,” he called without looking back at you and you heard him inside the fridge, heard him pulling something out and he was slicing something with a knife on a board. The kettle was going again and you heard a metal spoon hitting porcelain as he stirred something into a cup.

He was back quickly with two mugs in his hand and when he returned to your side he’d place one of the mugs in front of you.

The color of the water inside the cup was a pale yellow and you saw a single disc of sliced ginger floating on the surface. You could see the string and tab from a tea bag in his mug.

“Honey and ginger,” he said as he busied himself with playing a word on the board game, “for your stomach,” he added as if you’d made an announcement at the start of your game that your stomach was hurting and he was just responding to that.

You hadn’t said a single thing to him about it. In fact, you had thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding it from him. You hadn’t let him see you frown or groan or cry out in pain once. The worst you did was lightly massage the space where it hurt the most.

You lifted his offering to your lips and took a sip expecting it to be too hot for you to drink comfortably and finding the temperature rather mild actually. You took another bigger sip and felt the soothing warmth slip into you. It was sweet with the honey he added and slightly spicy from the fresh ginger he’d added. It was delicious. You’d never tried this for your stomach aches before but it seemed to actually be helping. You took another sip and swallowed, finding that the burning lessened with each sip you took.

Kyungsoo silently played a word and you watched his mouth moving as he added up his points and wrote down his score of 20.

You smiled widely. He had just played the letter you needed to play your next word and with the orientation of the word you would be able to get the bonus points. You were already laying your letters out on the board and counting out your points before he’d even had a chance to replace the letters he’d used on the last word.

“Oh come on, what? You gotta give me a chance to catch you,” he groaned in annoyance that didn’t really seem to sink too deep into him for him to really mean it. You could still see the smile on the edges of his mouth and in his eyes. You did a little victory wiggle in your seat, wrote down 50 points under your name, and even stuck your tongue out at him with a giggle. His eyes slipped down your face and his lips had been pulled into a smile, despite the fact that he was losing this game miserably.

He pulled his head back a little bit and looked up into the air above his head. A quick glance at his pieces told you he still needed to replace letters and so you held up the bag with the open end toward him. He was still sulking about the heavy blow and you had to reach out to touch your fingertips over the back of his warm hand to get his attention. You gave the bag a little shake and you had his eyes in yours again as he reached into the bag, pulling out tiles and groaning at the letters the universe had decided to give him.

“Ugh,” he was groaning with each new letter he pulled out. His eyes darted over the game board and occasionally slipped back up into yours, probably because you had been watching him for signs that he had something good to play. It didn’t seem like he did.

“Blegh,” he made a disgusted sound, complaining again. “What am I going to do? What do I do, what do I do?” he repeated to himself as he pondered his brand new fate as a loser of this game.

In his hand, he held only two tiles and he hovered lightly over a space on the board. You giggled when he set them down. It was the saddest word you’d seen in a while.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me, Kyungsoo,” you sing-songed playfully watching him spell out the word ‘SEE’ for only 5 points.

His hand moved and he spun his letters around, showing you very quickly the hand he had. You saw a slew of vowels, mostly the letter E and everyone’s least favorite burden a single solitary X.

You were openly laughing at him now. His cheeks were pink and he was reaching into the bag to select his replacement letters and when he pulled them out he tossed them in disgust. They both landed flat on the table, face up with a clatter. He had thrown them there. You looked down to see two more Es and the sight threw you back into a noisy fit of laughter that seemed to be catching. You could hear him giggling beside you and he gripped the Es in his fingertips and tried to put them back into the bag. You snatched it up quickly and held the bag of letters out of his reach so he couldn't cheat and put them back in.

“No no,” you gasped through the giggles, “Think of words with lots of Es like meet, umm, teeth, f-feet,” you said through a strained voice and you were laughing again at the look he shot you at the mention of the words that brought up a very recent sore memory for him.

“Teeth and feet?” He said with his eyes wide, “You really brought that up again?” He exhaled through his teeth, his lips pulled wide in frustration. He was leaning now, reaching desperately past your game pieces to where you still kept the bag of letters out of his reach to keep him from cheating, even though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up with you even if he replaced all of his letters now. He had scooted his chair closer to you and you reached for his desperate hand, gripping around his fingers and pulling his hand down into your lap, holding it tightly there and leaning into him to help you gain some leverage against him. He was quite strong when he wanted to be but he seemed to be letting you hold him back like this. He definitely wasn’t putting his all into this struggle against you. Something was off with him. Kyungsoo had never held back on that chance to be terrible with you before.

Instead, he had moved in too close to you and after the small playful struggle, you felt the warmth of him all over you. You had been giggling as he reached out with his other hand, reaching again for the bag of letters you held out of his reach and you felt the tips of his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulled your arm down. It was a bit of a stalemate and you heard the soft laughter from him settle and go curiously still, when you opened your eyes you found his face in front of yours. You had his hand inside of yours down on your lap right over your thigh and he held your other hand with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist. You hadn’t expected this level of closeness from him, the shock you felt radiating through your chest had taken the laughter out of your voice and left you stunned in a frozen silence instead.

You suddenly felt hyper-aware of your own body. He was so close to you, that you wondered if he was able to hear how noisily your heart was pounding inside of your chest, or if he could hear the stuttered way your breathing moved in and out of your lungs.

God, he was beautiful up close. His skin was clear and he had a scattering of tiny moles all over. The small freckle in his upper lip seemed to have a presence all of its own and you struggled to look away from him. Your eyes roamed over the length of his face. He had long since stopped laughing and he had even stopped reaching for the bag, stopped struggling against your hands and he was watching you with slow blinking wandering eyes over your face that seemed to settle again heavy and deep inside of your eyes.

You exhaled a breath you had been holding through your parted mouth and his eyes slipped down to look at your mouth when you moved. This was something. Something was happening here. Something that shouldn’t exist with the intense animosity he’s always felt for you. Something between you and something between him. You could feel it in the way your skin flushed, the blood in your body seemed to seek refuge in some place that wasn’t in your veins. You found it difficult to breathe with him so close and those eyes of his didn’t let up, they didn’t let you go, you felt so much more trapped here in his eyes than ever before. Your ears picked up on the smallest grunt of effort from somewhere in the back of his throat, then the smallest inhale of breath lifted his lungs, and finally, finally, he closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve lost this game,” he whispered through closed eyes with a sudden tight clench of his jaw.

He was leaning. He was moving. You watched the sway of his balance and he moved closer to you, impossibly closer and the fingers he’d wrapped around your wrist released their hold, that hand was moving. You felt the first tiny touches of his fingertips as he moved his hand to touch your face lightly and achingly slowly along your jawline. You felt as if you could burst into flames at any second and judging by the heavy puffs of air that left his lungs, something similar was happening to him too.

He leaned into you, close enough for a kiss but something stopped him. You felt and saw the lean though. He pulled back half a centimeter and it felt like he was at war with himself.

You watched his face as he did it. His eyes, he kept them closed up as tightly as he could and the hard clench of his jaw did not let up.

He was touching you though. His hand had moved and his thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip and his fingertips dug in behind your ear. His other hand, the one that you held in your lap had moved too and you felt a squeeze from his fingers as he clenched tightly around your hand.

Everything about him was tense. His jaw, his hands, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

This man was very purposefully attempting to regain control of himself and resist whatever it was he was feeling by being this close to you, by you touching him, and by him touching you. Your own self-control felt thready. How easily you could snap in two. How flimsy your resolve had grown around him.

You’d long since dropped the bag of letters. You felt the need for the warmth of his soft skin under your fingertips. So you reached for his face, delighting in wonder at the smoothness your fingertips traveled over, even with the hard clench of his jaw he felt so warm and inviting and he was still so very close to you. He smelled so good, it was overwhelming. You wanted him.

He was so very close; close enough for you to feel every quick burst of air that came from his nose against your lips, close enough for you to so easily lean your face into his and press your lips up against the softness of his mouth.

So you did it, you did it -- you leaned into him and you kissed him on the lips, relishing in the softness you felt when his lips gave into yours so, so easily, it seemed to come like second nature when you had actually worked up the nerve to do it.

There were almost imperceivable changes in him when you did it; when you kissed him. The hard clench in his jaw let up with the soft grunt of surprise that came from the back of his throat and in his hands; the loosening of the tight grip he held you with on your face as he simply let go of you entirely for the first few seconds of this kiss from you.

The next change was less subtle, you felt the careful way he caved to your lips. The tilt of his head paired with the parting of his jaw and he leaned into you further, pulling your soft bottom lip into his mouth then pulling you again, your upper lip. When he moved again you felt the tip of his wet tongue guide along your teeth and reach for yours with that same suction he had pulled against you which you gave to him, giving him what he wanted, feeling very much out of control now with greedy the way he sucked on your tongue. The kiss was too much in an instant. The undeniable attraction you felt for this man had taken every bit of rational thought and tossed it out the window, carrying them all away with the wind outside.

His mouth and teeth and tongue nipped inside of your mouth, pulling at your lips and he was moving, peppering tiny kisses, bites, and nibbles along your jawline as he moved lower to taste the skin below your ear.

You reached for him again, reaching a hand forward for his waist and lower, you’d lost your mind when you touched near his belt, slipping the tips of your fingertips in between the denim fabric and feeling along the elastic waistband of his underwear. Feeling the very clear bump of his arousal and the warmth of his skin there.

His hand flew up to stop you and you heard the soft groan that came from his chest against his will. You could feel your labored breathing taking your chest and heaving it up and you shook your head back and forth at the nerve he had to stop you. You wanted him, you wanted the sex. You were beginning to feel desperate for him.

Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against yours and his hands now had a strong ironclad grip on your wandering hands. You felt the very slight movement of his face back and forth.

No.

He was telling you no.

You had to take a genuine moment to absorb it. He was telling you no. You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath and you inhaled the no, the refusal, the rejection took its time coming at you slowly in a big old sluggish wave and your breathing was beginning to calm down now.

“Kyungsoo?” You called out lightly, feeling just a bit upset and even more confused as to why he would have kissed you back so intensely if he didn’t want this.

“I,” he opened his mouth and pulled his head back, “I don’t—” his words were broken, staggered, and fractured, “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You don’t want me like that.” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking him a damn thing. It was a stark realization that you had simply misread his actions as affection.

“I don’t mean that,” he began, his voice clearer and with slightly more urgency than the staggered speech from earlier, he inhaled and swallowed, licking his lips as his eyes searched over your face.

“I don’t do that lightly,” he exhaled and furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes and looking into your face again, “I’ve never slept with someone outside of a relationship. I don’t do it. This can’t happen. We aren’t going to have sex.”

He had released his tight grip on your hands now that his reasoning was out and you sat there feeling just a little bit foolish for having jumped so quickly straight to sex. You felt the embarrassment hit you hard and you closed your eyes through it and shook your head, straightening your back and removing your hands from within his fingers and pulling them back toward you as you carefully busied yourself with straightening your shirt back out. This felt awful. You reached down for the mug with the now cold ginger honey water and you downed the remains quickly, hoping that some of that sweet honey might coat your insides and soothe your fractured ego while it was at it.

You felt the softness of his hand land over yours when you put the mug back down and you looked down at it, his hand covering over yours. You could feel it then, he was asking you to look at him. You had been embarrassed by the rejection and had been busying yourself with literally anything that wasn’t him. He’d given you time to process it and to get yourself under control before calling your attention again with the softest and most gentle pull of just the warmth of his hand on yours. You signed deeply, willing all of that oxygen to fill your lungs and power your brain well, and after what felt like several inescapable seconds passed you looked up into his face.

He was watching you, no words on his lips and a slow and steady blinking of his eyes.

You swallowed before you spoke, “I get it,” you said plainly, biting down on your lip once before you continued, “I understand. You don't sleep around. I sleep around. You and I aren’t the same.”

His lips parted and his eyes rolled over his face once before they sank back down heavy inside of yours. He inhaled a breath, clearly ready to counter your words. You knew you were misinterpreting his meaning. It wasn't even as if he’d called you a slut or anything, but goddammit that recent discovery of his. Him having found your 20-pack of condoms in your bag; you couldn't help but compare them to the single 5-pack he brought which he probably never even had any intention of using in the first place when you had every intention of using some of those condoms on this retreat. You would be goddamned if you didn’t get laid at least once on this trip. It had been so long for you, that you needed something from someone that made you feel desired and attractive to another human being.

“You know,” he was speaking, his eyes had drifted closed and he was having trouble getting the words out again. Maybe he was about to tell you he was on his way to pray for your forgiveness for being such a slut.

“You already know how I feel about you,” he whispered and pulled his eyes open.

You looked at his face for a moment before your eyes wandered over the space above his head; giving the smallest head shake as a reply. Not really. He hated you for one minute. He laughed at you and teased you another minute. He made you ramen and tasty honey tea to soothe your upset stomach and beat you mercilessly at Monopoly but his cold hard facade fell apart when you teased him back. He was a mystery to you, whenever you thought you had figured something out about him, he would pull out the rug from under you and swear that no matter how desperate you were for it he would specifically not ever sleep with you. You felt that same familiar pain in your stomach flare up again. You hissed through it and inhaled a small gasp, doing your best to keep your reaction under wraps.

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his chin, “you must know,” he said again, “you already know.”

You must have flinched somewhere in your face. Those knowing eyes of his caught it and his head ticked as his eyes moved over you again.

“How could I know anything?” You were beginning to feel like you should go lie down. You even felt a tiny bit dizzy the more you stayed here just withstanding this. Maybe a warm shower would help.

“Sara told you. You know everything.” he threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling above his head. He had a sort of exasperated expression on his face now and you tried to focus on this conversation but you’d already been through enough of it.

What had Sara told you? She had been so excited about every little interaction between the two of you that her words had been too exaggerated and overly dramatic to be able to trust what she said. Your mind flew through her words to you about him. About him saying how pretty you were. So what if you were pretty. The man hated you. He hated you. Her words, were a distant memory now even though it had only been a couple of hours since she said them.

‘The way he looks at you -- If I didn't know that he was desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes -- he was desperately in love with you -- he is desperately in love with you.’

It was impossible. Sara was wrong. This man did not love you. He couldn’t love someone like you.

Doh Kyungsoo had just rejected you for the third time now. The first when he stood you up on the date, leaving you to stew in the rejection, publicly calling you out amongst your best friends about it, basically ridiculing you again and again for your stupidity; how dare you really think someone like him could ever actually be interested in someone like you. The second rejection was shallower, the way he treated you when he found out you were here with him. You had the audacity to show up here and play pretend like you belonged here beside him; going so far as to reject even your offer of friendship, the lowest form of acquaintance and even that he didn't want. And now, reminding you of just how little he thought of you.

He didn’t sleep with people he wasn’t in a relationship with. You’d offered yourself so easily to the man, practically begged for it but again, you received another rejection.

Wasn't there a point in which you should give up on this?

“I don't know anything, Kyungsoo. I don't even know you, remember? We never really even met each other.” You said it with such finality that his lips closed up and he pulled his head back. He seemed taken aback by the force with which you said those words to him. You stood up, done with this. There was only so much you could take. That surprised look on his face from earlier had flattened out and he was staring ahead of himself, not looking up at you.

You stood there looking down at him for much longer than your pride should have allowed. Watching him staring ahead of himself with his silent lips and his bright red ears, his chest heaving up and down as if all of the emotions bubbling just below the surface of him could ever presume to break through that thick outer shell of a man who keeps everything inside when he should have just let it out. Goddammit Kyungsoo. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t explain and he sure as hell wasn’t about to try any more than absolutely necessary with you. You’d been the one to put yourself out there again and again for this man. You felt let down.

“I’m going to shower and lie down for a while.”

You took the first steps to leave, to walk past him and you’d made it three whole steps toward the door when you felt the warmth and strength of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you back. He pulled you back roughly. You had been moving forward with such a momentum that the break in your stride caused you to stumble backward and you yelped out in surprise finding yourself pulled into him, pulled to where he still sat uselessly in that chair and the rough yank on your wrist sent you moving until you collided with a resisting barrier.

You stumbled on your feet and you bounced against him and the second you collided with him you felt the strength of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You felt the push of his firm chest hit against your thighs and in your belly you felt the point of his nose as he buried his entire face within your shirt, just below your ribs deep, within the softness of your belly. It tickled uncomfortably but you felt too stunned to do anything. You looked down in shock, seeing only the top of his head, his soft black hair fell into the fabric of your shirt and from his mouth somewhere you heard the softest moan that reverberated through your body.

For lack of anywhere else to put them you rested your hands on his shoulders and you heard and felt him make another sound, a rough growl from his chest sounded out into your skin, buzzing into the skin of your stomach and his hands around your waist tightened to uncomfortable levels. He inhaled a deep breath from somewhere in the center of you and you found some semblance of some words to say.

“Kyungsoo, what,” you began but his hot exhale warmed you on the exit and sent goosebumps cascading down your spine, taking whatever words you thought you could speak. After several breaths he lifted his face, propping his chin right against your skin to look up into your stunned and confused face.

“What are you doing?” you managed. You felt too blindsided for more.

“Get to know me then,” he whispered up into the air and you wiggled against the tightness you felt in his arms matching the crazed look you saw in his eyes. He did not loosen them any, “get to know me, until you understand how I feel about you.”

This didn’t feel real. It was impossible that this was happening. Was he serious?

Your mind was spinning. You couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Doh Kyungsoo you were witnessing. The desperate way he clung to you told you one thing and yet, so much bad had already happened to tell you the complete opposite. This version clearly hadn't listened to a damn thing the other one had just told you. This one didn’t know about the no sex before commitment rule, the one that had his chance and squandered it, humiliating you in the process. But as tightly as you were wound here within his arms; you could feel your body responding to him all over again. You’d already been too affected by him before.

His eyes were looking up at you and you could just barely make out the tiny pout on his lips that was hiding within the fabric.

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that mug he had been sipping from had been full of whiskey instead of tea and this man was off his head right now.

“What are you talking about?”

He was moving with the question you hung into the air above his head. You could feel the slow way he moved his face, pressing himself against the softness of your belly again, breathing you in slowly and deeply as if every bit of sanity had simply left his body and this was a madman whose only purpose was to drive you as crazy as he was.

“You know for someone who doesn’t want to fuck me, you are doing a terrible job of letting me leave this room.”

Your own bluntness surprised you but you’d expected him to wake the hell up and release you so you could go take care of this problem he’d caused.

“I never said I don’t want to fuck you.” He whispered it with his face hidden deep within the skin of your belly but the words echoed inside of you, hitting you hard with their heavy impact.

The man was a menace. He’d just turned you down only to do this to you? You felt so turned on you almost couldn’t keep upright.

You braced both of your hands on his shoulders and you pushed against him hard, pushing your hips backward too until he got the message and loosened his hold around you. The release allowed you to take a step back. His hands still lingered around you and you even felt one of his hot palms lying right over your ass, having slipped down from your waist he didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry to take his wandering hands off of you.

“Sorry, sorry,” his immediate apology told you that he knew exactly what sins he had committed against you, “I’m not in my right mind.”

You reached behind you and grabbed his hand off of your ass and brought it back around, dropping it down on his own lap. It landed with a flop in his lap and his eyes pulled deservedly down as he took on a much more sheepish expression in his face. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine.

“You say one thing and do another, Doh Kyungsoo.”

You felt ready to snap. “You say we won’t have sex, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that,” you said through wild eyes and even though you managed to get the words out, it felt like a lie. You weren’t fine with that. This hot piece of ass needed to figure himself out and in a hurry because you weren’t sure how much more of his torture you could take.

“You seem fine with it,” you heard him mumble under his breath and your eyes widened as you lifted your eyebrows and looked at him. He lifted a hand and waved it lightly, “Sorry, continue.”

“I was fine with it until you,” you lifted your arms and wrapped them around your body, doing a speed-run pantomime of him grabbing you around the waist, hugging you tightly and you even ran your fingers over the entire length of his face lightly, jumping back in pure frustration, “did all that to me, Kyungsoo. What the fuck?”

The man who sat in front of you with his forearms crossed strategically over his lap ‘just so’ dared to smile at you. It was a tiny smile but you lifted a finger and pointed right at his face with a frustrated gasp. Again his smile, impossibly, widened.

“I am going to go take a shower. And I am going to lie down.” These words came out in a low growl. “I better not see you standing at that bathroom doorway.”

You’d spun on your heels for the second time to walk away from this man and you nearly screamed when you felt his hand reach for you again. This time he was standing up and you lifted your own hand in an 'I swear to god, give me a reason’ pose, enjoying how quickly he flinched away from you.

“Wait, wait” he quickly spoke, not wanting to get smacked. You decided then and there that you weren’t above doing it. The memory of last night's tit punch was still fresh in your mind and you were feeling almost crazy enough to do it.

“Just wait, goddammit,” he had the nerve to sound annoyed. He actually reached up and grabbed your raised hand and carefully brought it back down. “Come back later. Later tonight, give me like two hours maybe.”

“What happens in two hours?” your eyes narrowed and your lips pouted just a little bit with the suggestive tilt of your head as your mind whirled through the possibilities. Did he just need two hours to decide that maybe you were worth a round or 20 of pressing your back into your mattress, or maybe his mattress? Hell, four mattresses were lying over there on the floor where the movies had been showing, you were not that picky. Literally this table here would suffice. Your face must have betrayed your filthy thoughts because he squeezed your hand and you heard a tiny laugh break free from him.

He was laughing through his words, “Dinner. Just dinner with me. God, will you relax, please?”

His proposal sounded promising. Your eyebrows were lifted in curiosity without you even realizing it you eked out a tiny question for him.

“Like…a dinner date?” This sent a strange wave of panic through you. The tiny smile on his face and the little hum he made as a response sent butterflies flying. You felt at odds with the strange burst of nerves. The idea of having an actual date with this man was, well — you’d never once considered a re-do with him. Back then you’d been so offended, so humiliated, and so angry that the last thing you wanted was to give him a second chance. After a while, you’d even run out of any desire for him to explain himself for what he did back then.

Perhaps a make-up for that botched blind date all those months ago that started all of this trouble was the kind of thing your heart craved deep down inside. You suddenly felt nervous. Sex was one thing but a date with him? Sex was just physical but starting this over again, a date with Kyungsoo felt too vulnerable. Why was that so much scarier to you?

What if he didn’t show up?

Wait, he was trapped here and he was the one doing the cooking. Plus if he didn't show up, you knew where you could find him. You’d beat down the door and kick his ass as long as he was hiding away in one of the rooms here that didn't have any spiders.

His eyebrows lifted and the smile he was wearing on his lips was gone.

“You don’t want to?” He asked the question and left his lips hanging open. You could see on his face that despite the false bravado he wore when he proposed the date, to begin with, he also was feeling a lot of the same nerves about it that you felt. His focus on your face was flighty, not quite able to commit to solid eye contact with you with this heavy question handing in the air like this.

“Okay,” you finally answered in a whisper and you closed up your mouth and nodded your head up and down twice.

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched your face and you caught him mirroring the same head nod. “Okay,” he also whispered.

You nodded again and he was quiet as he looked at you, eventually looking away from you and looking around the kitchen space with a small exhale of air through his mouth. He didn’t move, but what was even worse was that you also did not move. You weren’t sure how to do it.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no this was awkward. Did you just say goodbye and walk away? Did you give him, like, a high five or maybe lean into him for a hug, God that would be terrible, Imagine? A hug, thanks buddy, thanks pal, thanks for letting me make out with you, sorry to freak you out when I got too into it and touched your boner because apparently that is a no-touchy zone, I did not get the memo about the boner. Should you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek? How did you leave this situation with at least one-fourth of your dignity, an acceptable amount for someone with your history of humiliating yourself, still intact?

The kiss on the cheek might be okay, right? His cheeks were soft and his skin was smooth. You took the smallest step into him and you leaned in for it, but oh god, he was moving already. You leaned at the exact same moment that he spun around on his feet and began to walk away from you toward the doorway that led toward the bunk beds, which would have been completely fine except for the fact that he had seen you beginning to lean into him right before he moved. He had seen you move, he had seen you lean, but his feet had already stepped, his body had already begun the exit process and what resulted was a terrible, awful, awkward time in which he stopped walking abruptly and turned back around to face you, halfway toward the doorway, stuck somewhere in the middle of this kitchen with him again facing you and neither of you wanting to explain to each other with words why the journey to the exit had been halted so abruptly.

“No,” you shook your head back and forth. His face was pink again. “No, just go. You already ruined it.”

“What were you going to do?”

“Doesn't matter. It’s over.” You sidestepped him and moved quickly through the space, placing your handle on the kitchen door and pulling it open. You hurled yourself into the darkness of the hallway, feeling just a tiny bit of irritation at the realization that you could still hear the sound of his footsteps very clearly. He hadn’t stayed behind in that kitchen but he seemed to be following you down the hallway toward the room with your bunks.

“You were leaning, what were you leaning for?”

“Why are you following me? I have things to do. Alone, Kyungsoo.” You emphasized the last bit while looking directly into his eyes and he was fighting his smile a little but he didn’t seem to stop following you until you reached the door to the bunks and stopped to look at him with your hand on the door handle.

“I just need to get my bag. Then you can have the place to yourself.” He was already pushing past you, rushing through the room toward the bed in the back and he was grabbing a black duffel that he slung over his shoulder and he made quick work of the distance with his quick walking reaching the space in the doorway that you still occupied in no time.

When he was back at your side you moved inside the room to give him room for his exit but before he disappeared through the doorway you caught an abrupt shift in his balance. When he was close enough he leaned into you and pressed his soft lips against your cheek, lingering against your skin for one second too long before he pulled back again and looked into your eyes. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected that at all and you had closed your eyes halfway through the lingering part and you had to act quickly to open your eyes up in time so as not to miss the smoldering look part.

“Now, wouldn’t that have been awkward to do back in the kitchen when I was going to come all the way over here the whole time?”

You’d opened your mouth and inhaled a breath to respond to him. You would have lied and told him that you weren’t going to kiss him in the kitchen, or that he was imagining things again, or maybe you would lie and say you took it back and you didn’t want to have sex with him ever. He had already disappeared and the heavy door slammed shut before you had a chance to think of a clever comeback.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

#exo fanfiction #kyungsoo #exo smut #exo fic #kyungsoo fic #exo story #kyungsoo smut #doh kyungsoo #reader fic

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aghoulnamedmeliora · 1 day

Text

I'm still afraid of what's out there

This is my head canon of how I think Phantom was summoned.

This is my first piece of published work for this fandom and I'm a little nervous posting it but if I keep putting it off it'll never get posted. If I've missed any tags or content/trigger warnings please let me know and I'll add them immediately.

CW: Trauma, fighting, implied non-con but no details.

Title from Abyss by Woodz

Phantom couldn't breathe.

They had been running so much that their lungs burned with each breath they took. Bile churned in their stomach as they continued to push their body to its limits.

Still, they didn't stop. They could hear the pack of ghouls following, so close they could almost feel their breaths on the back of their neck. One slip could mean the end.

Turning a corner, Phantom slammed into a wall. They spun around to try and find a different way to escape, but their exit had been blocked.

“Fucking finally. I do like a good hunt but it gets annoying when the prey doesn't know when to stop.” One of them growled, a large fire ghoul who Phantom recognised to be the leader of the pack.

“What do you expect? For me to just sit there and let you rip me to shreds?” Phantom bit back. They knew it was a mistake. They were outnumbered and weak both from the chase and from lack of food, but it was the only way they knew to try and find an escape route.

The largest ghoul, an earth ghoul, lunged forwards holding Phantom against the wall by their throat.

“We were gonna make it easy on you. A quick slash to the throat to kill you before we had our fun. But now I’m making sure you’re conscious for every second.” The fire ghoul growled again.

The hand around their throat tightened and dragged them down to the ground between the wall and the pack. They clawed at the arm holding them down, nails digging in and drawing blood.

One ghoul grabbed their arms and pulled them above their head out of the way. Another grabbed their legs to prevent them from kicking at everyone. The fire ghoul approached, fangs glinting sharply as Phantom struggled against the hands holding them down but they couldn't get far.

The pack leader knelt over them, trapping their body between their strong legs before surging forwards and biting their neck to paralyse them.

Phantom screamed, the pain overwhelming. The other ghouls laughed clearly enjoying the torture they were putting the small quint through.

Before anything else could happen, a bright white light appeared, floating down towards the pile of ghouls.

Confused, the arms holding Phantom relaxed slightly. The pack leader barked out some commands and the arms completely disappeared allowing the white light to lower towards Phantom instead.

The white light expanded, swallowing them whole, but Phantom didn't flinch. They didn't care what happened now, only hoping that whatever it was, it would take them somewhere safer.

They closed their eyes and waited. For what they didn't know, but they waited.

After what felt like an eternity, the light vanished and they were plunged into darkness. Their hearing returned first, voices startling them from their trance.

“They're so small.” One whispered.

“Are they okay? There’s so many scars.” Another gasped, shock lacing their voice.

Phantom wished they could cover their ears, the noise suddenly the loudest thing they had ever heard.

“Can you open your eyes, little one?” A softer voice spoke to them with a thick accent, one that Phantom didn't recognise. They slowly opened their eyes, blinking, trying to adjust to the dim lighting.

Upon seeing their eyes, more gasps and whispers echoed around the room grating on their ears.

“Aether, could you come here please? I don't think they can move.” The same soft voice called out. Phantom heard shuffling before a large figure appeared in their peripherals.

They felt the familiar crackle of quintessence flowing through them. Their panic spiked, knowing first hand what it can do to someone.

“Shh, it’s okay. He’s only trying to help.” Someone was rubbing soothing patterns on their shoulder in an effort to try to calm them down. Phantom never heard them approach and that scared them more.

Eventually, they started to feel their body again, the pain retreating slowly.

Finally having movement again, they shot up, claws out ready to protect themself from the much larger ghouls they found scattered throughout the room. Some jumped while others stayed calm, trying to show Phantom that they’re not a threat.

The ghoul the human called Aether, stepped forwards, quintessence at the ready to de-escalate the situation.

“It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. You’ve clearly been through a lot and are rightfully on edge. You’re safe here though.” His voice stayed calm and steady, trying to stop Phantom from freaking out more.

“Why should I trust you? All ghoul packs are the same. They say they want to help only to dispose of me once they’ve had their fun.” Phantom was angry and upset. They were grateful to be away from the situation in the Pit, but they didn't know the intentions of the ghouls in front of them.

The short ghoul next to the human growled angrily. “We summon you and quite clearly save you from a painful situation and this is how you repay us. Such an ungrateful brat. We should send you back. Why would we want you here with that type of attitude?”

“Dew, stop it. It’s not gonna help them feel safe.” Aether spoke again.

The ghoulette who tried to comfort Phantom moved forwards, deciding to take a different approach.

“I’m Cirrus. What’s your name? Maybe knowing who we are first might help.”

Phantom looked at her, deciding whether to answer or not. She could see the war in their head. Answer and take refuge or keep fighting and be alone. The decision should have been a harder one to make.

“Phantom.”

Aether’s gaze flicked over to Cirrus’ at their response, surprise written on his face. She shrugged, happy that she was getting through to the small ghoul.

“Well, hi Phantom. I’m glad we were able to save you from whatever you were stuck in. The ghoul who helped you is Aether, he’s a quintessence ghoul, although I’m sure you were able to figure that out without me telling you.” She huffed out a laugh before continuing, “The small one with an attitude problem is Dewdrop.”

Dew guffawed, annoyed at Cirrus’ description of him.

“The giant is Mountain and the slightly less tall one is Swiss.” Mountain waved politely while Swiss grinned, trying not to show too many teeth.

Cirrus pointed over to a small group of ghouls gathered together, “Over there is Rain, Cumulus, Sunshine and Aurora. Aurora is the other new summon.” The smallest ghoulette tried to wave the best she could while being practically smothered by Sunshine, the taller ghoulette waving enthusiastically.

“And finally is Copia, the human. We all call him papa. He’s our leader and protector.” The human in mention smiled shyly, still not used to being the centre of attention.

Phantom’s head was spinning, all the information hard to take in. They felt trapped, like a wild animal stuck in a cage for people’s entertainment. They needed to get away from everything, hide until their brain could catch up with what happened.

Cirrus started moving, a lavender blanket draped over her arm. She froze when they snarled, crooked fangs on show. They could faintly hear Dew make a snarky comment, but their brain couldn't process anything other than the blinding fear still coursing through their veins.

“Phantom, I’m only trying to help.” She glanced behind them, making eye contact with Aether. He moved, keeping his footsteps light.

Once in reach, he grabbed Phantom’s shoulder and let his quinessence flow through.

They growled and used their own quinessence to try and fight him off. Aether was stronger, well versed in his powers and easily overpowering the little quint.

They felt their legs grow weak, struggling to hold them up. Still, they fought. They turned around, slashing out with their claws. Aether hissed when they caught his arm, claws digging deep into his flesh.

The ghouls around them moved to hold the small ghoul, stop them from hurting anyone else, but Cirrus was quicker. She rushed forwards and wrapped the blanket around them tightly, holding them in a hug that immobilised them.

She expected them to fight it, to claw their way out of her grip. Instead, they went limp, tears pooling in their eyes, threatening to fall.

Hearing the quiet sobs, she relaxed her grip, cooing softly in an attempt to soothe them.

“What’s the matter? I hope we didn't scare you too much” Phantom shook. They didn't know why they were crying but they had never been held with so much love, especially from someone after trying to fight them.

Everyone went silent, unsure how to react. Even Aether, who was currently working on stopping the bleeding.

After a few minutes of just being held, Phantom stopped crying. They used the blanket to wipe their eyes, blinking up at Cirrus who continued to hold them.

Copia was the first to break the silence. “I’m sure this has been tiring for you ghouls both physically and emotionally. We should make our way back and get some rest.”

While the others made motion to leave, Phantom stayed where they were. Cirrus noticed this and pulled them closer. She held them until they calmed down completely.

“Are you ready to leave, Shadow?” She kept her voice soft, trying not to set them off again. They nodded, the motion barely noticeable if they weren't pressed tightly against her.

She stood first, holding her arms out to help them up.

Guiding them towards the doors, they froze again, taking a deep breath. This was it. Once they went through those doors, they were going to start a new life. One where they weren’t running away constantly. One where they had a pack of their own, who treated them like an equal.

They braced themself as Cirrus opened the door, the sunlight warming their skin. She looked at them once again, waiting to see if they were ready. Phantom nodded, more strongly this time.

“I’m ready.”

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #papa emeritus iv #copia #cw noncon

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sulumuns-dootah · 10 hours

Note

Your work inspires me so much!! If its ok, could i request something…? I´m in need of some angsty headcanons, since i dreamed about this particular scenario… How would the kings (who are deeply in love) react after discovering that his beloved MC is madly in love with one of their most faithful subordinates? MC has rejected their romantic advances before, but they are only now realizing why… And that… Hurts. I imagine would be Satan-Sitri, Beel-Bael, Levi-Foras, Mammon-Bimet?, Luci-Marbas? (my heart can't do this with Gami, its his little broo), and Belph-Beleth. Sorry if my english is bad, but thank you so much for your hard work!

WHB kings reaction to their crush liking someone else

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Aw, thank you and dw your english is good! ^^

Warning: Some of these get a bit yandere :)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Well, Satan is seeing red

He's unable to look at Sitri the same

In doing so he spends more time with Amy, which makes Sitri mad

The two eventually end up having an argument about it and if you haven't told Sitri yet, he's in for another shock

Being the good king he is, he won't stand in your relationship as long as you hide it in front of him

If he sees you two together without leaving a space for Jesus, one of you is getting kicked across the whole Hell

Also to add onto the angst: his visits to pubs and heavy drinking get more frequent

At some point it gets so bad that the smell of alcohol just carries with him, but his mind is still sound enough to be a king

༺☆༻

Oh...

Well, this is a first

Wanting something, but he can't have it?

So this is what it's like to be a common peasant

Mammon hates the feeling of that

He would never hurt you, you're his master and you're free to do what you want

Still, that doesn't mean that Bimet won't feel the sting of it

So Mammon gives him less and less change

Bet you feel stupid now, since Bimet has barely any money

Oh, and look... Mammon just so happens to be very hot and fanning himself with a stack of money

Care for a 5* hotel stay at the most expensive spa in all of Hell?

༺☆༻

Full Yandere mode

What, did you expect anything less from the king of Envy?

How foolish you are, really...

Leviathan gets commisioned a golden cage that's installed into his bedroom and that's where you stay

If you try to escape too many times, he'll even go as far as chaining you to the metal construction

For extra security, while he's away, there's at least five of his servants guarding you

If you're to go somewhere, it's only with Leviathan himself

Even Barbatos and Glasyalabolas can't be trusted

Oh, and Foras? He's lucky to even be alive

Anytime they cross paths in the halls, he's hanging from the cieling in a matter of seconds and isn't let go until he's passed out from the lack of oxygen

༺☆༻

Ahahah, nope

That doesn't stop Beel

No, he dosen't even acknowledge the fact

You're his

Bael? You fell for him while he was dressed up as Beel and now you're just confused, silly Y/N.

Is he gaslighting you or himself? Kinda both, actually

Poor Bael is just witnessing the whole thing and can't do anything about it

Beel is just an unstoppable force and nothing can change his mind

It's probably best to just let him forget about his feelings towards you

Let's hope that'll happen within your lifetime, otherwise youv'e got a stalker that defies all natural and supernatural laws

༺☆༻

Now, Belphie might be asleep most of the time, but that still doesn't mean you get to just run around and wanna be with anyone else

Oh, it's Beleth you're into?

Hm, looks like Belphie has to have a lengthy talk with him about it then

Since he hates long convos, it has to be short, sweet and straight to the point

And that's how Beleth finds himself smothered by the king's power as he's practically threatening to make him evaporate if he doesn't back off from you and reject all your advances

(Actually, you can still be in relationship with Beleth outside of the king's palace, but if Belphie finds out from someone else or smells your scent on Beleth, you're both gone)

༺☆༻

Lucifer tries to be as mature as possible, but there's still this jealousy gnawing on him from the inside

Asks Buer to help him with some meditation and breathing excercises to chase away his feelings and the thoughts

As one of the Seraphims, he had to learn to share God's love and this comes in handy

Actualy, what's wrong with having more than one partner? This is Hell, afterall...

The rest of his nobles know not to bring up you or Marbas in the same sentence or even the same context

Luci, being the demon of pride and all, firmly believes, that your feelings for Marbas are just temporary and soon you'll come to realise which demon is superior to that sex-crazed maniac

If things take a little too long for his liking, however, he's not against serving you a special type of tea strained through his underwear to speed things up

But don't worry, he's doing this for your own good :)

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan #whb sitri #whb mammon #whb bimet #whb leviathan #whb foras #whb beelzebub #whb bael #whb belphegor #whb beleth #whb lucifer #whb marbas

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itsonlydana · 1 day

Note

I saw you opened requests and thought if you were inspired could you do a little sequel to "I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You". I absolutely adore that story it is SO good!

Midnight Meetings in our Kitchen | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader👑

The night before the reopening of his restaurant, Thranduil is feeling antsy - you try your best to coax him back into bed.

warnings/tags: none

word count: 2,7k

an: This has taken me months to write and I apologize for the delay! My mind was just as frazzled as Thranduil's.

requests: please check pinned post

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You woke up alone and to the faint metallic sound of pots clanking in the kitchen. The hand you blindly reach over to the other side of the bed comes in contact with a cold mattress and rumbled sheets, no residue warmth of the person that held you until you fell asleep nor any sign that he actually slept and not gotten back up immediately as soon as you had closed your eyes to his even breathing.

This is not the first time Thranduil snuck out of bed – in the weeks you now shared one it has become all the clearer how often he actually strayed through the apartment while you were deep in a slumber – but it is the first time he did it after he promised to stay.

It would be easy to let the anger and frustration fester, let it grow either in a thoughtless fight or in weeks of unspoken feelings, and if this was anyone else you would holster these moments like munition. Keeping them close to your heart like ivy holding on to cracked walls.

Thranduil however, is not anyone else.

The blanket is pushed aside, your feet step into the slippers by the bedside and in passing of the desk by the door, you grab a cardigan to throw over your shorts and the top you slept in. The moment you open the bedroom door, the sounds from the kitchen grow louder. You quietly creep around the corner, passing by the room where you hardly ever sleep, and find your boyfriend in a familiar stance – leaning over the stove, a spoon in his hand and one in the mess of long hair bundled up in the nape of his neck, barely holding it together; your boyfriend as well as the spoon.

He doesn’t seem to realize you are there, your shoes did a good job silencing the steps, so it is no wonder Thranduil flinches as you wrap your arms around his stomach from behind and press your face against his back. He catches on quickly, snaps out of the murmuring of ingredients and a “Oh,” escapes him in a sigh. “I’ve woken you up, haven’t I?”

“No,” you mumble into the loose shirt. Thranduil is comfortably warm, not by nature – his hands are a blessing in the summer and he made it a sport to tickle you awake with his icey tips as soon as you spent the nights under mountains of blankets – but by the heated kitchen and the many pots boiling in front of him. Lips against the soft fabric, you continue: “But you said you wouldn’t do this. Not tonight, Thran.”

You feel his spine curve as Thranduil sacks into himself slightly, as he stops holding himself up on the counter and instead hugs your arms closer to his chest. His whole body rumbles at another sigh. “I know,” he is tired, his voice drips sleep more than he realizes, “I know, Darling. I will come to bed soon, let me just finish this recipe.”

You lurk past his right side into what you think is a pot of soup?

“Do you plan on serving it later?” you ask and let your fingers trail over the bunched-up shirt, over the soft hairs on his lean stomach.

“I’m not sure. It lacks something and I can’t figure out what exactly. Spices I used plenty, the broth is perfection and the vegetables have been in harmony every other time I thought of them.” – Thranduil is the only person in the world who you know can taste a dish without even cooking it, all that happens in his brain is a mysterium – “I need to find.. whatever it is that’s missing before I could serve it.”

“So, you will cook dozens of portions with a tiny thing changed?”

It is meant to be a joke though Thranduil nods.

He could be unreadable and stubborn, especially these last few weeks. His restaurant ‘The Green Leaf’, is known as the best spot for fine-dining vegan food, praised high and above by the critics for excellent taste, extravagant and beyond thinking of known dishes taken to another level in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom. Thranduil is precise, cutting dishes that fail his standards and not adding new ones till he reaches perfection only known to him.

The turn to autumn brought not only harsher winds but it took one of Thranduil’s suppliers to sell out to ‘Oakenshields’, another star restaurant across the street and a thorn in Thranduil’s eyes ever since the press fueled heavy competition between two restaurants that are no were near the same category. They have close to nothing in common, except for two petty as fuck owners with their heads stuck that far up their arses, that they couldn’t see further than their rage.

Thranduil, mature as he is, reacted to the news of his supplier changing sides – literally and metaphorically – as any normal person would, and decided on a night similar to this one, that he would change every meal that he had previously cooked with the ingredients of ‘the traitor’. Out with entrés made with apples, gone are the burgers simply because the cucumbers are no longer accessible. You realized quickly that going with the flow meant outings to farmer's markets testing fruits and vegetables, negotiating deals with you hanging on his arm, and new recipes he cooks for you to try. The work and effort of many nights waking up to find him in the kitchen all lead to tomorrow, the first day after the restaurant’s summer-closing and the presentation of a completely new constructed menu.

To say Thranduil is spun tight is an understatement.

“Thranduil –” you sigh, your hot breath slightly wetting his shirt and your lips move against his spine. “This is nonsense and I don’t say this to be mean. You’ve been up the whole day, going through recipes you’ve been sure about and that you know by heart. Trying this won’t do no good; it will only exhaust you.” The tips of your fingers trail through the hair, higher up to lay a flat palm against the firm skin, feeling his intake of breath. You let your touch be gentle if he misunderstands your words.

Communication between you had never been the problem – well, except for the obvious misunderstanding of the feelings you both had harbored for each other in complete ignorance that the other packaged them up in love languages such as cooking a meal or throwing out flowers of your dates – and you two had gotten even better at speaking your mind to avoid confrontations that could have been cleared up by a simple discussion at dinner or before going to bed. You never went to bed mad at each other, that is the rule you agreed on. You would talk it out and then make up. You have learned that Thranduil’s cold demeanor came on the second he felt vulnerable and alone which is exactly why you lean into the subject with your hands holding on to him.

“I get that this is important for you,” you continue and your knees nudge the muscles of his calves, “but you need sleep. Your greatest weapon is your brain, so, let it rest. I’m sure this will work out without a new dish.”

For a while, there is the boiling of water, the steam of carrots and celeriac drifting through the air. Thranduil’s hands continue to hold onto you, drawing figures onto your wrists to signal you that he did hear you and is thinking of an answer, not ignoring you. Then, he lets go with one hand. The stove clicks off, and the gas flame disappears, dipping the kitchen into more darkness now that the blue flickering light is gone.

Other than that movement, Thranduil stands still.

You opt for another lighthearted joke to break the tension that is obvious in his shoulders, the wings of them have the shirt stretched tighter at his hunch. You take the spoon out of his hands and fish in the soup, yes definitely soup, carefully balancing it around his stiff body and closing your lips around it.

“Mhmm, what excellent boiled potatoes,” you hum.

Thranduil's expression shifts ever so slightly, as if your words have finally pierced through the mental blockade, where he’s no doubt been sifting through countless possible events. An amused snort escapes him, his spine curving closer against you as he chuckles softly. “Did you have another Pride and Prejudice marathon this week?”

“What?” Your voice jumps an octave, betraying you instantly. “No! Of course not! Me? Nev–er. I don't even know that movie.” The words tumble out in a frantic cascade, and in the middle of your denial, Thranduil abruptly turns to face you, his sudden movement drawing a helpless grin from your lips.

One eyebrow arches in quiet amusement as he begins to crowd you against the kitchen island and leaves you to stare up at him. “If you didn’t watch it – and I certainly didn’t – how do you explain the ‘continue watching’ notification I saw at the restaurant?”

“Wow, uhm,” you fumble for an excuse, fingers toying with the strings of his silken pajama pants. “Maybe your brother decided to give my recommendations a shot?”

Thranduil lets out a scoff, his disbelief evident. “Las? When has he ever taken our advice on anything?”

True, his brother is going down the full teenager-who-listens-to-no-one-route like he’s doing a marathon but you are just as determined. Coyly you flutter your lashes up at Thranduil, pulling at the strings and twirling them around a finger. “Maybe that’s a sign of the universe, then. That you should stop banging pots and start bang– showing attention to your girlfriend.”

Thranduil laughs so low in his throat, that you feel it swooshing straight into your stomach, the vibrato of his voice and the rasp of the few hours of sleep undoing every thought of getting him back to bed because this, Thranduil in just a loose shirt standing in the silver light of the moon in the middle of the kitchen and staring down at you might be the most attractive thing you have ever witnessed.

His hands wander from your waist up to your shoulders, sliding up further to cup your neck in his large palms and gently tilt your chin up further. Your breath comes to a full stop, instead, your heart takes on the job of pulsing twice as fast at the gentle touch of his thumb moving over the underline of your jaw. The day you realized he cradles you just as gently as his favorite knives was surely one to process but now you lean into the lingering taps of his fingertips, the pad of his thumb pressing slightly into the plushness of your lower lip.

Thranduil slots one leg between yours, casually and with an ease that you wouldn’t believed him to be able to when you first met him. “Have I recently told you how thankful I am that you’re you?” he asks and you shake your head slightly. His lips curve downward, as do his eyebrows. “I may have gotten lost in my work again, haven’t I?”

You nod, never one to pour a lie into this intimacy. “But that’s fine. I know this is important to you. The restaurant opening and all can’t be easy.”

“That’s no reason to push away the one person that makes this journey bearable. You shouldn’t have to put up with my nightly disappearance out of bed simply because the restaurant is a large focus on my mind right now.”

“It has become quite the habit of yours,” you agree quietly and slip one hand under his shirt again.

There’s nothing sexual about the way you hold onto his waist, tracing the bones and muscles, all breathing softly and singing under your touch. Being this close to him grounds you the same way he needs physical touch as a reminder that he is still important in arguments and fights. That no matter how far apart your opinions are at that moment, your bond is still there.

“I am truly sorry for this habit. I will work on it and I think once we have gotten through the worst of the press and critics I can rest easier but it’s nothing I can one hundred percent promise. The last time we closed for a month I slept barely after reopening.”

You tilt your head. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, everything you do makes me a better person already,” Thranduil says and leans down to finally catch your lips in a soft kiss into which you melt like butter on a hot pan. Every nerve ending is sizzling and burning, sighing as he holds your face close and kisses the breath out of you. “Or would you do me the favor and never watch your movie again?”

You laugh and bite down on his lip, “Never. Try something more realistic.”

He agrees with a huff of laughter, “Of course not,” and pulls you back into another kiss.

“Can we go back to bed?” you mumble against his lips. As much as you enjoy the loving kisses, the slow and languid draw of his tongue, the playful nip of his teeth in the lull of the night, his full body cornering you against the counter – oh, there’s this low sound of his throat again – but unlike Thranduil, you had a few hours of sleep already and you can feel the urge to hop back under the covers in the cold around your bare ankles.

Thranduil’s head swirls around, seemingly taking in the state of the kitchen without the haze of a restless man dreaming of the perfect dish clouding his judgment and he raises a hand to tap against his lips, loudly exhaling. “Shit. I can’t leave this lying around and while it’s no good for the restaurant, I can’t just throw it out.”

You shrug your shoulders, sneaking past him to open the drawer meticulously sorted with plastic boxes. There are certainly enough of them to store the soups and their different varieties. Once Thranduil starts working on a new recipe, his tendency to fill the kitchen and run tests leaves its traces in the way you now look out for good lunchbox offers and Tupperware parties, always being mindful of having enough of them to stack up the freezer. Thranduil may be opposed to frozen food – and not only storebought, he would not eat something he didn’t cook fresh even if the whole idea of freezing food he cooked meant that it was still good and full of vitamins – but you don’t mind popping them into the microwave on a long day at work and relishing the soul food of your boyfriend weeks after he abandoned the thought of that particular version.

“We could pack them up and bring them around to the shelter tomorrow. Ah, wait, no. You have to be at the restaurant early for the deliveries. I can drop them off then, get home to change and still be there on time for the opening, oh! Thran–,” you are interrupted by the warm weight of Thranduil hugging you close from behind, surprising you the same way you had earlier, only that the height difference allows him to mouth a kiss into your neck.

“I love you,” Thranduil says, digging his fingers into the wool of your cardigan. “All I’m doing is keeping you up at night and you’re still here, thinking about bringing the food to the shelter and my schedule. You’re brilliant, my love.”

The compliment goes through your heart like molten honey, sticking in all the slowly healing cracks that Thranduil mends each day he is there for you. The change from being roommates to best friends brings the risk of disrupting the carefully built balance yet Thranduil and you made it work and in times like this, standing in the darkness of your shared kitchen in the night before the re-opening of what Thranduil loves third-most in the world, every effort is worth the risk.

You smile, resting your head against his chest and looking up at him. His grey eyes are already on you, framed by long lashes and the strands of hair shining silver. “Love you too, most ardently,” you stand up on your tiptoes for a quick kiss upside down. “Soups can wait, let’s go to bed.”

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