#like I wonder if anyone ever actually kept track of all of that

[ayoyoungg]

.

[thevoidstaredback]

Saturday's at Wayne Manor are family days. The whole weekend is reserved for the family to come and go as they please, but the biggest events are the Game Days on Saturday from 11:00 to 16:00 and Sunday Dinner at 18:00.

Every Saturday is a Game Day, but the third Saturday of each month is Competition Day. The kids all choose their favorite games, and everyone competes against each other. It's very rarely missed by anyone, but there have been times when someone has had to tap out for one reason or another. Alfred keeps track of who's missed how many days. Barbra keeps the tally of who's won what and how many times. At the end of the year, on December 31st, the scores are announced.

Sunday Dinners are sacred. No one ever misses a Sunday Dinner. The last person who did Jason is still getting subtle jabs and looks from everyone and that was a year ago and he had a very good reason, thank you very much! Everyone is always present for Sunday Dinner because everyone still has a room and the option to stay the night between the two days. Most usually take up the offer, but there have been extenuating circumstances that have pulled someone from the Manor.

No matter any of that because everyone is here and everyone is staying the night. That means everyone is patrolling Gotham tonight. Almost everyone. Batwoman has offered to take over Bludhaven for the night, so that's where she's gone.

Bruce plans to present his idea of messing with his coworkers when everyone gets back to the cave after patrol. All his kids know who they all are, having been trained by him, so there's no risk or accidental reveals on his part. In actuality, the kids thought of it like a game. They even had a folder for it on the Bat Computer and everything!

Yes, that night, after everyone returned to the Bat Cave, he would gather his Chaos Gremlins and invite them to mess with the Justice League with him. He'd also try and get Alfred in on it. Family bonding, and all that.

Though, making his kids sweat was its own form of amusement for him. It was 3:00 when everyone finally returned. They all ran their own routes, watched over by Oracle, and their own times, but everyone was always done no later than 3:00. It was a rule that the Gotham Rouges had yet to pick up on because Batman went back out until dawn more often than not.

Anyway, Bruce has been the first to get back and had put on an act of being upset. He usually kept his Batman persona with his suit, so he was rarely ever this stoic while he was Bruce Wayne. He hid his smirk as he sat at the head of the meeting table in the Cave, waiting for his children to change and sit with him. Duke normally was asleep by now, but he'd asked the boy to be there, letting him in on the harmless prank while they waited for his siblings and Stephanie to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, he waited a total of thirty seconds, meeting eyes with every one of his children, before he spoke. "I'm very disappointed."

Dick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He'd known Bruce the longest - aside from Alfred - and had likely picked up on something the second he saw Bruce and Duke at the table. "At who?"

"The Justice League," It was amusing to watch the tension melt off of all of them when he shook his head, "We all know who all of them are, as well as everyone who trained under them, but they don't know who we are."

"Except Wonder Woman," Jason pointed out, "She figured me out when I came back."

Fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was always Diana's favorite. "I think they need some help," he said, "A push in the right direction, so to speak."

Stephanie had a smile on her face that promised mischief. "We're not telling them, right? 'Cause that'd be no fun."

"Course not!" Duke yawned, "B said we'd give them a hint."

"What did you have in mind, father?" Damian asked, stoic as always, but matching the gleam in Cass's eyes.

"We invite them to the Bat Cave," he said, "Show them around a bit. The only exits we tell them about, though, should be the Lane," How the ground vehicles get in and out. "-the Zeta Tubes," Obviously. "-and the elevator. But, we don't tell them what's upstairs."

Alfred seemed very amused from where he had taken his seat at the other end of the table.

"From there," Bruce continued, "We invite their civilian identities to the next Gala. Meet them. Hint about the Cave without actually saying anything. If I know Clark as well as I know I do, then he'll, at the very least, piece together that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor."

"And if we play it right?" Dick's grin was manic, "They won't connect who we are."

"Won't that be suspicious, though?" Tim spoke up for the first time, "They may not have put things together yet, but they aren't stupid. They're heroes. If we give them the pieces, they're gonna piece them together."

Damian was the one to answer him. "Batman and Bruce Wayne hate one another, though there is a grudging acknowledgement and respect."

"Give them the right pieces, with a few from the wrong puzzle, in the wrong order, we could totally have them fooled!" Jason explained.

The group shared looks between each other. Nothing needed to be said because the looks and movements said everything.

Alfred smiled and shook his head fondly. "You may plan this in the morning. For now, go to bed and get some sleep."

Part 1 Part 3

[dycefic]

Tom Saves The World

Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.

But not always.

I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.

I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.

The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.

And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.

Which never, ever happens.

My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.

At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.

But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.

Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.

She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.

It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.  

And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.

I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.

Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.

The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.

There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.

They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.

To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.

Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.

Enter Thomas Briggs.

Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.

Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.

Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.

And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.

He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.

The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.

One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.

Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.

I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.

He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.

And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.

I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”

He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.

He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”

I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”

It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.

But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.

Wild, huh?

--

This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.

And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Dean Wanting You To Stay At The Bunker

Pairing: Dean x reader

____________

“Are you sure Sam is okay with this?” you asked, turning to Dean as he tossed your duffel on a bed. He nodded as he put your other bag in a chair at the small desk in the corner.

“Of course. My room is right next door if you need anything,” said Dean, smiling for a moment before looking almost nervous. “Need anything?”

“No, no. Just...thanks. I never expected you to actually let me crash for a few days,” you said. Dean shuffled on his feet but kept quiet. “I can help cook and clean-”

“No! No you don't have to,” said Dean, waving you off. “If you want to...hang out and relax for a few days, that'd make me the happiest thing really.”

“Well I do like when you're happy,” you said, giving him a kind smile back.

“No rush, stay as long as you want,” said Dean backing out of the room. “Stay a week or two or more. We, uh…”

“Want another hunting partner?” you asked skeptically but Dean’s face showed his eagerness. “You're serious?”

“Stay two weeks, see how you like it and let me know then,” said Dean, looking a bit more relaxed now. You simply nodded, even if you'd already made up your mind.

“Dean you got blood all over your good jeans!” you shouted from the laundry room a few weeks later.

“I'll get a new pair! Don't bother trying to get it out!” he shouted back from the library.

An hour later he was in his room and looked more than a little surprised to see you holding his jeans in the doorway, looking as new as ever.

“Are you a witch?” he asked as he took them from you.

“Yes, I used my super powers of detergent and stain remover,” you said plopping down on his bed, leaving him to get the rest of his clothes from the basket. You heard him hesitate and chuckled. “Finally found my lucky shirt.”

“I uh…”

“You hid it behind the dryer,” you said sitting up. “Now I wonder why that is?”

“You were going to leave,” he said. “I wanted you to stay and you don't go anywhere without that shirt.”

“Do you even know why it's my lucky shirt, Dean?” you asked smiling up at him as he sat on the bed beside you. “I was wearing it when I met the guy who has a massive crush on me. I like him too so it's worked out pretty great so far. Too bad I'm still waiting for him to make his move.”

“You don't hang out with anyone except for us really,” said Dean your head nodding that he was on the right track. “Is it Cas?”

“He's human,” you said, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Is it Sam?” he asked and you felt for the poor man.

“Is it the guy sitting right next to me?” you said with a tilt of your head and a smirk. “Yes, it is in fact that lovable guy that made up excuse after excuse to get me to stay when I never wanted to go anywhere at all,” you said.

“I left your shirt there this morning so you'd find it, ya know,” he said, you taking a turn to raise an eyebrow. “I wanted to see if you'd really take off running when I asked you out for lunch.”

“I'd love to, Dean,” you said.

“Run for it or go on a date with me?” he asked, some of his cocky charm coming through.

“I got my lucky shirt back. I can finally go on that date with you,” you said. “It hasn't let me down so far. I might even get a second one.”

“Maybe I'll just hold on to this in case it all goes horribly wrong so you stay with me anyways,” said Dean, lifting it out of the basket.

“I'm already with you,” you said, Dean’s hand brushing against yours before resting on it comfortably. “But you can keep it. It's been pretty lucky for you too.”

_______________

[liliansun]

🎧 : grab your headphones as we wait for the release of speak now (polaroid version). each track will have its own story to tell, musical notes ranging from heartbreak and first loves. don’t be fooled by the sweet title tracks of each song, not every story with a happy ending always starts out on the right note.

summary : you and your friends are trying to survive day by day at your school’s university NEOU. somewhere along your final two years, each of you finds your own love story that turns your reality upside and has you questioning if relationships in college is actually worth it. although you each have your own story to tell, you all hold onto the one thing you have in common and that’s each other.

featured songwriters: nct dream’s haechan, jaemin, jeno, mark and renjun with supporting vocals from jisung and chenle

original songwriters: joy, mal, neowa, sal and y/n

genre : university au, college au, young adult romance, swearing, mentions of lying, non-graphic mentions of violence, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, heartbreak, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, lots of crying, mentions of alcohol. slight mentions of adult themes but not in detail

send in an ask to be added to the preorder for each song or whichever track calls out to you most or comment down below

ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU : HAECHAN’S VERSION

pre order : completed

release date : 07 | 16 | 23

summary : college was enough to deal with, barely passing classes and struggling to keep up with what was going on in each was a daily struggle. not having time to catch someone’s eye was fine with you, that was until you met him. there was something about him that was enchanting, so you went out to find him, hoping you kept him up the same way he did you.

OUR LAST KISS : JAEMIN’S VERSION

pre order : completed

release date : 10 | 11 | 23

summary : he was cute, he knew how to poke at her soft spots and he knew what to say to make her laugh, but mal wasn’t like any other girl. she knew his type and she knew they’d never get past messing around in the night and forgetting about it during the day. so why is he always on her mind, even after he left? guess that last kiss he gave left more of an impact on her then he thought it did.

I SEE SPARK’S FLY : JENO’S VERSION

pre order : ongoing

release date : 11 | 25 | 23

summary : jeno was the calm before the storm, never letting his his smile ever turn sour. his touch was the warmth she never knew she needed and when his eyes turned into little crescents, sal thanked the moon that night for giving him such features that resembled. all things seemed fine, until she realized she yearned for that same smile too many have seen. scared, she runs from the feelings that knock on her door, unbeknownst that he was waiting for her to answer him.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @velvet-side @sseramine @tywritesstuff @sunflowerbebe07 @i6renj @e-forgettable @myhaechan @nyukyujs @naids4luv @daegalfangirl

I GO BACK TO DECEMBER : MARK’S VERSION

pre order : unreleased

release date : tbd

summary : graduation was something mark had been looking forward to since the day he started university, but he didn’t expect how hard it would be once he met joy. she was his sunlight, brightening his day each time they passed by each other. now that he’s been set off into the real world, joy has to face the struggles of dating someone you just don’t see all the time anymore.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @velvet-side @17ha @naids4luv

FOOLISH ONE : RENJUN’S VERSION

pre order : unreleased

release date : tbd

summary : renjun silently sat back, watching all of his closest friends spark relationships between each other. left wondering if there was anyone out there for him, neowa tries her best to show him how long she had been waiting for his attention to fall on her. but one can only wait for so long before the heart grows tired of hoping and renjun comes to realize it all too late.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @iraa567 @velvet-side @miniature-tragedy @naids4luv

a/n: i tagged hyucks taglist for the ones who want to know about the spin-offs

©︎𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐍., 2023

[dearyuls]

#. — chae yul x reader (she/her pronouns used.)

#. content warnings! — extreme yandere behaviour, failed recovery, obsession, stalking, kidnapping, murder, violence, blood and injuries, gore.

#. word count! — (so far) 13,500.

#. < full fanfiction, slowburn, no update schedule just whenever I feel like writing. only three chapter have been written so far, slow updates. also being crossposted on ao3 and wattpad as “ hand in unlovable hand”

#. > 0 | 1| 2 | <

PROLOGUE.

He swore to himself that this would be a new chance, he wouldn't waste the second chance at life that Eun Sian had graciously gifted him, in not ruining his life, that was all he could do in thanks to his dear person...well. Ex-dear person.

It was only one picture, he wouldn't let it get out of hand again, he probably wouldn't see you ever again, fate was cruel like that, and more than anyone, he knew he couldn't bend it to his will, even if he were to break all of his fingers doing so.

He had been moved far away from Sian, all on his own. A fresh slate. And, now he had no school to preoccupy himself with, he figured that finding a job would be the best thing for him to do in order to try and get his life back on track from the disastrous place he had steered it to, he blamed himself for it all, so, he decided he must be the one to fix it.

His father had given him the money to move in, and apart from that, he had no contact with his family in the slightest, he had no family left that wanted anything to do with him, he had no support system, and with this came more reason to job hunt, with no money he wouldn't be able to feed himself, or pay the bills he had.

Since he was already skilled in photography, that was the easiest first step in his mind, he'd build up a portfolio and become a photographer for events ,such as weddings, and put his prior experience to use.

It was a somewhat warm day in spring, Yul stood outside, camera in hand, snapping pictures of the scenery around him, he was just wandering around, finding whatever he saw pretty he wore a plain outfit, all black, with a hat on so that less of his face was visible, he was aware nobody that knew him could be here, they had actual lives to attend to, but, the thought of it happening but him on edge, he was lucky to be holding his camera or he would've bitten his fingernails half to death.

" At least it's a nice day out.." he mumbled to himself, as he moved to snap a photo of a water fountain that he had found in the middle of one of the nearby parks, surrounded by the greenery it made for an aesthetic picture, just what he was looking for.

CLICK!

The shutter went off and Yul waited to check the photo on the screen...

Fuck, He'd have to retake it, he couldn't have that person standing in the frame.

He looked up, he had to see if whoever you were had moved, and, it was as if the first domino had been pushed over, you were looking away, it appeared an orange butterfly had caught your attention, so you didn't make eye contact, but Yul felt his heart speed up. The rays of sunlight painted your face, the gentle breeze made your hair flow ever so slightly..and you were just wearing the cutest outfit..he wondered what Sian would look like if she wore it.

He slapped himself in the face. He hated the way he thought, he needed to stop thinking about her, it wouldn't get him anywhere. He wanted to change, it was what she wanted. He knew Sian would never wear a skirt like that, what a dumb thought.

By the time he'd finished his self argument, she had already gotten out of the frame, and Yul hesitated before taking another picture, he wouldn't delete the first photo, something compelled him not to.

He bit his lip, harsh, almost like trying to draw blood as he went back to the first photo, infact, your presence there seemed to elevate the scene, maybe it was better with you in it... the more he looked at the photo the more he seemed to agree.

He shook that feeling off and kept walking, he had to learn to do something by himself without the thoughts of her creeping in.

By the time the sun started setting Yul had already gone home, he felt strange, unable to take anymore pictures. His mood had turned completely dejected. It hasn't been all that great after getting out of hospital, he had been miserable despite trying, and today he just started to feel worse.

He was on his computer, which sat on a little desk in the left corner of his room. And was clicking through the photos which he had taken, figuring out which one would be the best to show to professional companies, he had only found two of actual quality for that day, and he clicked right, going to the next one, the one with that girl in it.

He zoomed in, and in and in.

He just sat in his dimly light room, illuminated by a single lamp, with his eyes pressed to the computer screen. Staring at you, Unblinking.

He stared, and stared, and stared.

It didn't take him long to realise he was being creepy, this behaviour wasn't right. He needed to stop.  In the short time he was at therapy, he had been taught a few ways t stop himself when he got all worked up like this, but, it was a shame he couldn't remember a single one of them.

It had been some time since he showed proper interest in anyone, and, you were just some random girl, he wouldn't let it get any worse again, he didn't even know your name or anything, plus he didn't even know anything about you.

Despite the kind look on your face and your general demeanour, you could still be a serpent lying beneath.

Why was he even questioning any of that? He didn't even know you, why was he trying to figure out what kind of person you were? He shook his head, minimising his gallery before closing his computer completely, maybe he was just feeling vulnerable and this is why his strange feelings started to act up again..

Yul had no other explanation outside of it being that, so, he decided to try and sleep it off. He got up from his desk and draped himself over his bed, staring up at his empty walls. With no pictures spread over them, it didn't look right, he could just imagine her face staring back at him...but she wasn't there. She had abandoned him she was horrible she was

Something he no longer needed to worry about, he reminded himself. He had no right to be angry.

He just needed to search and find something to overwhelm the still lingering feelings he has,  or he needs to actually get better, one of the two, he'd settle for.

[ninyard]

More Kevin/Allison?

okokok here's like. this. for you. it's not smutty but just lowkey horny. (a silly situation where they fuck around with the idea of being friends w benefits bc allison wants some on a night out)

-

Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. A wedge of lime in between perfectly shaped teeth, a glossy sheen of warming alcohol coating the lips that his shot had just passed by; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning. Kevin Day tasted like the sharp bite of his favourite tequila mingling with honey flavoured lip balm that spread across his lips.

Allison didn't actually know it to be true; looking up at smiling green eyes that ordered another round for the two of them, eyes that looked back with a mischievous glint - the unsettling thought had found its way into her head like a silently burrowing animal. The taste of his lips should've held no weight at all in her mind, but there they stood, still sweaty after dancing, throats hoarse from the song they'd been yelling on the dancefloor. Waiting at the bar for their drinks, Kevin's upturned lips looked far more uncomfortably soft and enticing than they'd ever looked before.

Too many shots in, and she caught herself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.

It wasn't that she'd never thought about fucking Kevin before, but a thought was a thought. It was an idea to be kept to herself, something never to be spoken out loud. Dan had jokingly mentioned it more than once, but Allison had shut it down quicker than it had come up. It hadn't been more than six months since he'd started to come out of his shell more often around all of them, no more than three or four months since they'd become each other's best friend under the influence. To think about Kevin's skin on hers was to think of something so reprehensible and disgusting that it felt like a sin. To think about his breath on her neck was to no longer think of him as Kevin Day. It was to picture him as something to find pleasure in, and that simply couldn't happen. Finally they tolerated each other as friends, enjoying their shared company more than they thought they would. Fucking him would only find a way to ruin that.

She'd dreamt about it once - He didn't seem to notice how she avoided him at practice for a week after that.

A thought was just a thought; an unserious idea, an insincere hypothetical, nothing more than that. Kevin Day was an asshole, first and foremost. He was Kevin, for crying out loud. It felt forbidden to even imagine him in any scenario other than on the court. That was his place, his life, his priority. Allison had only recently gotten the low-down on the girlfriend that wasn't really his girlfriend; even then he hadn't seen her for more than a day or two in almost two years. If he were messing around with anyone, it was very well-hidden. Allison couldn't quite picture him having a casual hook-up, let alone a serious relationship. Maybe it was because she'd only seen him for his one-track mind for so long: the only love he needed was exy, and he made that very clear.

But Kevin Day off the court was not the same as he that would be found with a racquet in his hands. Kevin off the court was fun, and comfortable, and far more like her than she cared to admit. They bounced off each other like a pair of childhood friends, and he made her laugh harder than anyone else ever had. They could stand across from each other on the court the day after, half hungover and straight faced, nothing remaining of the knocked back shots and songs sung the night before. Yet, they were a dream team on a night out, the life of the party, far too comfortable with each other. Kevin off the court had once seen Allison in her bra and laughed at the wonky bellybutton piercing she'd gotten at 16. He really was a breath of fresh air, sometimes, when he wasn't in Kevin Day mode.

Kevin off the court was relaxed. Kevin off the court was a little too easy to look at.

I'm due my period, she thought. Her hormones, of course, the only logical explanation as to why she was picturing Kevin's callused and strong hands around her waist, fingers trailing up her back, wet lips on skin, the smell of his cologne and-

"Are you even listening?" Allison blinked herself out of a daydream to look up at him. With one arm leaning on the bar as the barman served up another two golden shots, his smile was dopey with the perfect amount of alcohol. The lights in Eden's were dim enough that he couldn't see the heat that had risen to her cheeks as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been.

"I can't even hear you," A lie yelled over booming music to cover for the fact she really hadn't been listening at all. "Go again."

An inch or two more, he bent down to get closer to her. His breath was hot next to her ear, and she cursed herself for not hearing him the first time. She sucked her lip in, a stifled smile hurting her cheeks. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

"I asked if you're planning on staying late," He repeated himself. "I know Dan said that she's leaving in a little while, and I think Matt's going to get them a ride home. Are you going with them?"

When her first thought was to run her fingers up his bare arms and tell him what she really wanted to do for the evening, it was set in stone; she was a lost cause. Her mind has lost control of the vehicle. The heart that pounded in her chest couldn't be driving either. Her arousal had taken the wheel, and oh, it was driving her head-first, full-speed into a red brick wall.

Kevin handed over his bank card to the barman that served them, and returned his attention to their first-next bad decision. The shot glass slid across the damp wooden bar, and he gestured for Allison to put her hand out. She was mentally beating the thoughts out of her head, but tequila and a dull sensation in the pit of her stomach wouldn't let them go. Kevin held her hand gently in his as he poured the salt onto her hand before his own. The shot glass looked tiny tucked in-between his pointer finger and his thumb.

"No, I don't think so," Allison peeled her eyes away from his hands and held the glass the same way. "Unless you're thinking about going."

Kevin paused for just a second and hummed some sort of answer before bringing his hand up close to his lips. It wasn't lost on Allison how he kept his eyes on her, white salt licked up onto his tongue, burning alcohol hitting the back of his throat before he looked away to grab a lime. Perhaps it was coincidence that he licked his lips with a cheeky smile as his eyes found their way back to the fruit in between Allison's lips. His thumb wiped away juice that had dripped down her chin. She just tried not to think about putting it into her mouth.

"I'm not," He pouted, tucking his card back into his wallet, and looked in the direction of the table that they'd been sitting at. "I have nothing better to be doing than getting black-out drunk with you."

Allison lifted her foot up to rest it on the railing at the bottom of the bar. Kevin had outstretched the arm that rested on the surface next to them, and by Allison's shoulder, he was flipping a coaster between his fingers. The song changed, a perfect cue for them to move, but instead they stayed. Allison hated herself for it, but she would blame the alcohol in the morning; she rested her own arm next to his, and reached out to roll the edge of his short sleeved t-shirt in between her fingers.

"It's better than watching another one of Matt's stupid fucking movies," She tried to ignore the internal screaming, louder and louder as Kevin glanced down at his bicep, and slowly back up to her face. The slightest crease formed between his eyebrows, but he didn't pull away. Instead it was accompanied by a subtly growing grin. "I'll go crazy if I have to watch King Kong one more time."

Kevin laughed, and for just a moment, it felt like they were in some sort of alternate universe.

Kevin's had pressed his thumb to her skin, at the back of her elbow, a look in his eyes, words hiding behind his lips that she could read through his transparent skin. Perhaps she was thinking about herself instead - her cheeks flushed and hot with her fuck me eyes out of control.

Projecting onto him was easier than admitting she was prepared to blow him in the toilets if he wanted her to.

It was an impossible suggestion that shouldn't have been entertained at all. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many car crash scenarios that could be avoided by walking away right then and there. Her inhibitions were lost, and it didn't matter that it was a self serving desire and a really fucking terrible idea.

Instead she wondered what Kevin Day tasted like, with all logical thinking long throw out the window.

"What?" He asked, then, a knowing tone to his voice, his words wet with alcohol.

"Nothing," Allison pulled her eyes away from his face and down to the fabric in between her fingers. "What do you mean, what?"

Kevin opened his mouth, but closed it with a grin, and took his hand away from her arm to place it flat on the bar. Like she'd been shook out of a daze, Allison did the same, but the twisting of her stomach was an inconvenient and intrusive reminder of what she was really thinking about.

"What?" She pushed him instead, tilting her head to be better in his view, but he was quick to move himself and look away.

"Oh, don't do that," There was teasing to his words, as he threw his head back and tried to wipe the smile off his face. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" She teased back, gazing at him through her false lashes, while his jaw flexed in frustrated acknowledgement that what she was doing was working. "What are you doing?"

Kevin looked down at her, with that fucking look in his eyes, that insufferable glimmer, that knowing shine. He tilted his head and inched himself closer to her. "Are you bored?"

"Bored?" Allison scoffed. "You're out of options, superstar. Take it or leave it."

Kevin nodded then, and slapped his palm on the bar, before replacing the gentlest, electrifying touch on the exposed skin of Allison’s arm. "See, that's what I thought you were doing, but I figured I was just going crazy. Because there's just no way you'd even consider it. Surely. But you are."

She rested her head in her hand, and bat her eyelashes up at him, only half in jest. "And you're not?"

"Oh, never." The pressure beneath his fingers told her the opposite. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. She'd never seen this look in his eyes before; playful but serious, looking her up and down like it was their first time meeting. "Never in a million years."

"Oh God," Allison hid her face in her hands. This couldn't be happening - even if she really, really wanted it to, in that moment. "I really hope you're talking about what I'm talking about. Oh, please tell me you are, so I don't have to smother you in your sleep and pretend this never happened."

"I don't mind," Kevin grinned, but looked up as if to make sure that nobody was watching. "If you're serious, I'd do it."

Salt, and tequila, and lime. Cologne, and sweat, and breath and- "I'll kill you if you're joking."

He laughed again, a hearty and charming sound, and rubbed a hand down his face. Fingers holding his chin he shrugged and shut his eyes. “Unless you’re joking, then no, I’m not.”

They looked at each other for a moment too long. Kevin lifted his foot to rest it on the railing next to her, their knees grazing off each other. He'd given her the perfect vantage point to look where she really wanted to look, but she worked against the spirits in her veins to keep her eyes on his.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Kevin took the words right out of her mouth. "I actually really don't want it to. But if you're bored," She slapped his chest as he laughed his way through the rest of his words. He pushed a strand of her hair back behind her shoulder, running a finger down the side of her neck and teased, "And I'm bored..."

Around them, Allison’s giggle turned heads as she knocked on his chest, tucking her ear to her shoulder to push his hand away. Her search for an inkling in his demeanor that he was truly joking came up empty. Allison's thoughts were much less coherent than this, of course, less so 'I can’t believe I’m kind of agreeing to fuck Kevin and he’s kind of agreeing with me too', and more so 'tonight’s dick, tomorrow’s problem'. She was giddy at the whole situation, how drunk they both were, how she didn’t really care at all that it was Kevin on the other end of a pair of hands and working tongue.

A patron pushed the way in between them, asking if they were finished so they could order a drink, and Allison skipped backwards through the crowd before turning when she saw him stepping away from the bar. She only turned to look at him once, smirking as he followed her like a puppy on a leash. Oh, it felt powerful, in some ways, the two of them only starting the growth of their surprising friendship. Maybe it was inevitable, one of them single and the other kind-of-single, that they would find themselves in this position. All it took was one simple, lingering look, and one sentence loaded with insinuation and heat; Kevin was handsome putty in her hands.

Allison didn't stop until they'd turned a quiet corner, close to a staff-only entrance and a fire door, where Kevin reached out first to put a steady hand on her waist as she playfully pulled him in closer.

"Tell me this is a bad idea." Allison whispered while hooking a finger through one of the belt loops on the front of his jeans. The same hand hung loosely over his waist, in between their bodies, as his hips brushed against her stomach.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up when Kevin took his free hand and rested his fingers in her hair, a thumb just behind her ear. Kevin sighed, just a millisecond of hesitation before his easily read eyes said fuck it.

"This is a bad idea." He looked from her eyes to her lips as he mumbled, pausing inches away from her face. She knew he was waiting for her to change her mind, but they'd gotten this far - why waste it? "Oh, a really fucking bad one."

(Kevin Day tasted like citrus and salt. Kevin Day tasted like a freshly cut lime wedge and vodka that he'd been drinking earlier; Kevin Day tasted like one too many, like a bad idea, like something she'd regret in the morning.)

[itsblasttothepast]

Random Checo Pérez Post

So, I've been a fan of Checo Pérez for years... since the beginning, actually. I'm mexican, I'm older than him (I'm in my 40's, if anyone was wondering) and I particularly follow mexicans in tough sports for our country (like my boy, Donovan Carrillo, killing it in ice skating).

It can be tiring seeing all the hate he gets for every little thing (without couting the racist/xenophobic comments), and I know he's controversial, but he's also human and makes mistakes. Anyway, that's no the point, as a Checo fan, I've been there seeing all the different teams and teammates, and honestly, I kind of want to go back when he was mostly ignored by the press and the media.

I hardly post anything personal in my blog, I mostly reblog and like posts of you awesome people, but now I'm in a ranty mood and want to share my my impressions of his career in F1.

Starting with Sauber, his very first team:

I call this: Baby Checo Era - Cursed Sauber Era

Look at him, he was so young, full of dreams and growing into those teeth. I think he was very lucky with his first teammate, the great Kamui Kobayashi (I secretly think this is why he's so fond of Yuki Tsunoda nowdays); he learned a lot with Kamui, Checo even admits that he knows about managing tires thanks to Kamui.

They seemed relaxed, and made a great team, and also we had Esteban Gutiérrez, another mexican, as the third driver for Sauber.

Anyway, this was his learning phase, and he was killing it, most of the press was nice/ambigous, some pilots on the paddock didn't like him, but we didn't care because Kamui was there, Esteban was there, and we as fans were there.

I called this 'cursed Sauber era' because it made us believe that life was good and we could be happy forever and ever.

Then it came the worst thing ever (actually, for me, the worst thing ever is Red Bull, but most Checo Fans don't agree on my take). My boy moves to McLaren because Ferrari was still thinking their options.

I call this the Lost Checo Era - Collective Amnesia Era

We thought the move to McLaren would put our Checo on the map, oh boy, we were SO WRONG. No points, no glory, no good car... not even good press. It was a hot mess.

Not even the suit was good, honestly.

His teammate was Jenson Button. He was polite, but we could see he didn't like Checo's driving style, and sometimes my boy made silly mistakes and tried to force his way into the laps rather aggressively (which most drivers did back then, but whatever).

Still, they were mostly nice to each other, but the team was shit back then, and Checo seemed lost and confused (and still wasn't growing into those teeth). When he changed teams, we as fans decided to forget all about McLaren and move on with him. Although I must say Checo has said that Jenson was one of his best teammates and learned a lot from him, so I guess their relation wasn't that bad.

Then it came Force India/Racing Point... oh, Force India, it was our time.

I call this the Hopeful Checo Era - Foce India Hope

Checo came and slayed, honestly. Everything seemed to click with that team, he looked comfortable, in his element, winning points again...

And he finally was growing into those teeth!!!

His first teammate here was Nico Hülkenberg, and they seemed to have a good relation, even friendly I might say.

It was an amazing time, as a fan, I can say I enjoyed all the races, even when he kept spinning out the track or hitting other drivers with his wheels. He and Nico were amazing, and had such a nice chemistry, it was a refreshing change and it made us nostalgic.

Then Nico moved to another team... and another Checo Era starts.

Nico Hülkenberg loggged out of Foce India, and Esteban Ocon logged in...

I call this the No Fucks Given Checo - Force India Breaking Point

We could see Esteban and Checo didn't like each other. It was obvious, and they tried so hard to show they could get along, with hilarious results like Esteban's tweet about Checo trying to kill him twice.

You could feel the tension even in pictures, honestly. As fans, we used to joke every race weekend, asking 'has Checo finally killed Esteban?'

Checo here was fearless and daring, and kept pushing everyone out of his way, including his teammate, which of course is a big no-no in F1... although Mercedes suffered the same with the whole Lewis/Nico thing (and RedBull to a lesser extent with Max/Daniel), but Force India was a mid-table team, so it wasn't a big deal (nobody cared, those were the good days).

I even remember when Massa complained about Checo's overtake on Lance, and my boy answered 'What are you? his father?'... I think even Kimi laughed at this, it was hilarious, and showed how many fucks he cared.

Unfortunately, Force India had a very questionable management (debatable, Vijay seemed like a nice person), and after stopping paying all the employees, Checo brought legal action against the team in hopes of looking for buyers capable of servicing the team's debts (this is why they like him so much on Aston Martin). This led to Force India to be bought by Lawrence Stroll, and rebranded as Racing Point.

I call this the Reborn Checo Era - Racing Point Pink Era

Honestly, I would fail as a mexican if I didn't put this picture, his first win in F1, we cried so much, starting at the last place, and winning, the fireworks, the tears... and the fact that he had been fired, and here he was, winning, showing everyone to never give up.

Anyway, Checo had a new teammate, Lance Stroll, and it even looked like we would get something similar to Nico, but then they fired him for Sebastian Vettel (no hate to Vettel, it was strategic, and we get it, but it felt like such a betrayal after what Checo did to save the team).

Still, my boy looked good in pink, and he and Lance got along, and gave us amazing moments. I even think that he improved his relation with Esteban Ocon because he was Lance's friend. It was nice.

But when he was fired of Racing Point, we as fans thought 'it's over... our boy is going to leave F1'. We even joked about funding our team so he could stay, it was bittersweet. He won, but he still lost.

Then it came the proposal of proposals... the big league (I wanted Checo to go to Mercedes and race with Lewis), Red Bull wanted him as second driver.

I personally didn't like it. Those teams are hardball, and the press is ruthless. But everyone was so happy for Checo, and I wanted to see him race, so I made peace with it.

And here we are now... I honestly don't know how to call this Checo Era. It has been a rollarcoaster since the beggining, and I wish he hadn't renew and moved to another team... but I'll stay here with him, like I've done since 2011, I just hope that the pressure and the harsh and unnecessary criticism doesn't end up breaking him.

Especially now that he looks so hot and finally has the Tom Cruise smile.

I actually like Max, I think he's a good person, and an even better driver. I think he and Checo have a good relation, friendly at times, frosty some others, but in the end, they reach a middle ground where they can be teammates and not enemies. I like them together, but I don't like Red Bull policies and the way the press seemed to want to make Checo feel like he's a failure just because he isn't Max.

Oh, and also, thanks to tumblr and FB, now I kind of ship RP, and I agree that Max and Checo have amazing chemistry, they look so good together! (but also deep down, I lowkey ship Lewis/Checo... and I still hope to see them together in a team).

So, if you made it this far, thank you very much for reading my weird ramblings. English is not my first language (again, mexican), so I apologize for the grammar mistakes.

I'm a Checo fan, and I'll be until he retires... I just wish that those who aren't, didn't create such a hostile and hateful enviroment.

I hope that when Pato O'ward joins F1, the enviroment is more welcoming and nice.

Checo aun tiene para luchar, y ni modo cabrones, así es la vida.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Read on Ao3 Here.

Its been about 6 months. 

6 of the best months of a relationship Buck has ever had. And its not even about it being a guy, discovering his bisexuality. Its just... Tommy.

Hes great in so many ways, and the dynamic is so different that for the first time Buck has been able to relax, not always feel like hes chasing after someone. Actually, hes found out he quite likes being the one that gets chased, romanced, flirted with.

Everything is going great and hes even, in the back of his mind, been starting to think this might be it, this might be a long term thing after all which he'd have never expected. And then Eddie fucks it all up by telling him his most recent girlfriend, Beatrice or something Buck honestly hasn't kept track lately, broke up with him because quote "i can never have a place in your life when you've got Buck so entrenched in it."

Hes never had anyone imply that his and Eddies friendship, the little family hes made with Eddie and Chris, is somehow wrong or off-putting. Eddie was more annoyed than anything and didn't seem to care. But Buck... Buck got worried. Not because he cared about what Betty or whatever thought, but because he wondered if it wasn't true. If maybe their dynamic would scare people off eventually, and did that mean it would scare Tommy off as well?

So that's how hes sitting here, curled under a blanket on the couch, a new sectional he bought because Tommy's back didn't get enough support in the last one, spilling his guts to his boyfriend. When hes done he looks up at Tommy, expecting, well, something. Anger, confusion, heartbreak, but... Its not there. Tommy smiles at him, placing a hand on his leg over the blanket. "Evan... i understand how important Eddie and Chris are to you. I would never make you choose. I would never try to cut them out or deny you that."

Buck takes that in sits with it for a moment but finds it doesn't fully alleviate his concerns.

"But what if... i mean, if were together, you know, for the long haul. It wont affect you? What i have with them?"

Tommy smiles, he looks away for a minute and laughs.

"Can i be really honest with you Evan?" He says, meeting his eyes now. 

Buck nods.

Tommy inches closer, drawing up one of his legs beneath him. "When we first started dating i knew you all were close, but i didn't really understand until later that you were a 'family.'" He pauses, thinks. "But when i did, yeah, there was a moment i was a little worried where i fit in. Where there was space for me in your life. And then i had an idea, and once i wrapped my head around it that way, re-conceptualized how i looked at things, it didn't scare me anymore."

Now that's surprising to hear, Buck wants to know what could have so easily changed his mind. "And what was it that made you not worry then?"

Again Tommy laughs. "I started thinking of Eddie like he was your ex husband."

Bucks eyes bug out a bit. "My what?!"

Tommy shrugs. "It was easier in my head than just saying your best friend who you're co-parenting with. I've dated guys with kids, with exes before. It wasn't a stretch to think of it like Eddie was your ex and Chris was your kid from another relationship. Once i put it in my head like that, i didn't worry about whether we could have a life together. You'll always be tied to them, but it didn't mean you couldn't have a life with me to." He reached over and took Bucks hand, squeezed it tight. "And honestly Evan? I'm starting to think I'd like that. A life with you."

Despite how weird it is to think of his little family with Eddie and Chris that way, how Tommy sees it, there's something relief and happiness coursing through him. Knowing that Tommy's already figured out how he can keep some of the most important people in his life and incorporate them into a new life hes building for himself. For him and Tommy. 

"Evan?" Tommy asks, scootching closer on the couch, their knees knocking together.

Buck realizes its been too long since he's said anything, but when he speaks he simply says "move in with me."

For all of a second Tommy looks shocked, then elated, then seemingly guarded. "Evan... You don't have to lock me down or something i just exp-"

Buck cuts him off, "its not that. Trust me, I've done that before. Held on so tight, clung because i was scared of being left behind. This isn't that. This is..." he stops, lets his mind and body calm enough to get this right. "This is me holding on because I don't want to let go. Because i want to stay, right here, with you. I'm not scared of being left anymore, I'm scared of not putting down roots. Of not letting the best boyfriend I've ever had,"

"Only," Tommy interjects.

"Best," Buck reiterates, gripping his hand tighter, boyfriend I've ever had know that i want this. I want him. I want a life with you too. And hearing that i think, it was just the final thing falling into place, the last weight weighing on me. I... I've been thinking of asking you for a while, but i wanted so bad to get it right this time. And i think i am, but Tommy." He looks into his eyes. "Tommy you're the first time I've felt like if i got it wrong it would still be okay, we could make it work anyway. So move in with me. Please. Or.. heck, we could get a place of our own if you like?"

Tommy kisses him then. Its slow and passionate but all consuming. Its like nothing hes ever had before. And it feels so right. For once it feels Right.

A week later Tommy sends him a photo of a house for rent. Rent to own actually.

"Wheres that at?" He asks, because its a nice place, he can see the potential.

"Its literally a block away from Eddie's house, I saw it as I was driving away." He says, and Buck can almost hear the laugh and smug smile miles away.

"Its perfect." He writes back. But what he means is, 'you're perfect.'

[imrllytootiredforthis]

A crazy, blood-lust driven creature

Pairing: Yeonjun x reader

Summary: Yeonjun gets a new roommate...

Warnings: dom reader, sub yeonjun, vampire reader, human yeonjun, blood play/kink, slight fear play (?), implied manhandling kink, dumification, prolly more I forgot

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: For the lovely anon here, happy late birthday and sorry this took a bit longer than anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

How does one get a crazy, blood-lust driven creature to not attack them?

Of course there’s many ways discovered by humans throughout the years, such as dousing them in holy water. Sending a stake through their heart, repulsing them with garlic but really, that one’s a bit more of a myth.

That was the question that Yeonjun was focused on before. How to not get hurt, how to not get killed. In fact, that was what he’d been preparing for, for most of his life.

How to keep the vampires away. How to stay safe from them. Because they were mindless, scary, blood-sucking creatures. 

But that was before.

Before his landlord increased the price on his place and Yeonjun needed something to help with the pay he knew he couldn’t cover alone. Before he decided he needed a roommate to cover those extra expenses. Before he posted something online, asking if anyone wanted to move in with him; to help pay with the rent.

He got a total of one offer.

You.

A vampire.

A crazy, blood-lust driven creature that he’d been preparing to fight off for most of his life.

But he needed money. Needed to keep a roof over his head. Needed to still be able to pay for food.

So he agreed and a few short days later, after settling agreements and setting ‘ground rules’ as he called them, you moved in.

You weren’t allowed to feed in or anywhere near the house. You weren’t allowed to bring home any other of your ‘blood-sucking friends’ as he called it. And obviously, ever feeding off of him was off limits entirely. 

Overall though, you were a great roommate. 

You paid your portion of the rent on time, you weren’t loud or messy, you didn’t bother him-in fact-he didn’t see very much of you at all because of the time differences and such, with you sleeping or maybe out during the day, he didn’t know for sure and him asleep at night when he assumed you were awake.

And when you did see each other, you mostly kept to yourself and he was okay with that-happy-with it even. You kept your space and he kept his. He had no interest and you had no interest in him.

At least, that’s how he thought it would be.

Until one morning he’d gotten up extra early for work-having woken up and not able to fall asleep-but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that after awhile of laying in bed, tossing and turning and finally deciding he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep and so there was really no point in trying, he got up to make some coffee.

Yawned as he began to prepare for a normally extra long and extra tiring day. But now an extra, extra long and extra, extra tiring day considering he didn’t get the usual amount of sleep he normally did.

Yeonjun was so deprived of his sleep that he didn’t realize that you were sitting at the bar, scrolling mindlessly on your phone-right across from him-until you were saying good morning and wondering why he was up so early, pointing at the clock and reminding him of the time it was.

He had frozen in shock, body clenching in fear as your easygoing laugh filled the room, asking him if he was okay.

That was the first time he had an actual conversation with you, other than setting rules and showing you around the place.

And he’d be surprised to say it was...nice. You-you were nice, friendly even, like a normal person. Definitely not creepy or scary like he imagined you to be.

So he talked to you for a bit, ended up losing track of time and being a little bit late to work but he was surprised to find that he wasn’t as angry as he though he’d be.

After that the two of you fell sort of into a schedule. 

You, being up early in the morning all the time, prepared his coffee for him and when he heard the little beeping of it being finished, he’d wake up and get out of bed to get ready.

That would leave a bit more time in his morning between finishing getting ready and leaving, so he’d talk to you.

In the beginning of course it was kind of tense. Yeonjun didn’t really know what to talk to vampires about but you quickly filled in the gaps, telling him about your other vampire friends and weirdly enough, he found that you had some human friends as well. 

You told him all about the people who were in your life and about your life in general, the one you lived around the time where he was asleep. 

Apparently you worked as a bartender at a night club, a very interesting night club at that. One where both humans and vampires would visit. Vampires for blood and humans that were willing to be drunk from. 

You assured him it was nothing harmful to either of the parties and 100% consensual. In fact, you explained, humans apparently got an almost high-inducing overwhelming feeling from being fed from. Of course, you’d never felt it but you said the people that you’d fed from had explained it as almost pleasurable in a way.

And Yeonjun guessed it made sense if he was thinking about the tactical way of the vampire as a predatory species. Being able to induce this feeling over prey would ensure that they wouldn’t get away-that they wouldn’t want to get away.

Eventually he came to tell you about himself as well. His friends and job-his hobbies-and his nearly obsessive fear of your kind and how it came to be.

He wasn’t sure you’d understand at first. He’d thought you’d be defensive over your kind and yourself. That you would argue with him and get upset.

But you didn’t.

You heard him out and listened. You empathized to his feelings and made him feel...sane for once.

He enjoyed speaking to you and soon Yeonjun realized that you knew more about him than his friends and family-even. Eventually you knew so much about him and he knew so much about you that it could only be described as a friendship.

And so your relationship continued like that. Brief but deep. Willing to open up but not willing to discuss the prospect of it being anything more.

Yeonjun liked it. Liked the way he could tell you so many things without having to worry about it being anything more. He loved the way that you were openminded, aware of yourself and of him, and willing to listen.

Openminded until one night.

Late at night or really early in the morning-it could be described as either, when he had gone to the bathroom or maybe get a drink of water, he couldn’t quite remember but that wasn’t really the point.

The point was that he’d gotten up late at night and you were there.

Dark and quiet, he tried to keep it that way. Tried to not make a noise and not turn on the lights, he knew you’d be awake but he didn’t want to disturb you more than that.

Obviously, he knew he could talk to you outside your morning conversations but that had never happened before.

He’d been attempting to stay silent, creeping through his own apartment like some kind of stranger.

“Hello Yeonjun, what are you doing up this late? You have work in the morning, do you not?”

He had jumped at the sound of your voice, frantically searching for the source of it until a lamp turned on and the room swelled with light. Your eyes stared him down, a bloody red to match your diet, staring him down with a deranged yet somewhat inviting smile on your face.

He knew what this was, experienced it many times but it didn’t make him any more used to it. The natural beauty all vampires had, like a siren to lure in their prey. He knew, yet it didn’t make it any less effective, the aura that you gave off, calling him in like a ship to a lighthouse.

“U-um, I...”

Scarlet eyes traced his face in search of an answer, nodding along in perhaps a prompt for him to continue.

“W-water?”

He cursed himself internally as your lips twitched in a restrained smile, amusement filling your unnatural eyes. “What about water?” He had talked to you a handful of times already and he’d never acted like this before.

Call him sleep deprived, or maybe even nervous about talking to you but he’d never admit the real reason he was stuttering over his words like a schoolboy with a crush was because this was the beginning of exactly that.

“I...”

Finally a wide toothy grin broke across your face, and even though he hadn’t meant to, Yeonjun gasped-loudly.

Your fangs. 

Perfectly white and sharp, almost glistening in the light.

Horror and fear and something that pulsed deep inside him that wasn’t quite decipherable shocked him in place. Heat filled his body and an uncontrollable shiver tore through his body as his eyes went wide, tensed in wait.

He knew you had fangs. He knew, all vampires did so why shouldn’t you? But he’d never seen your’s before. Maybe the opportunity hadn’t arisen or maybe...whatever. His mind was a jumbled mess, a whirlpool of scattered thoughts as he fought to keep the urge to bite his lip at bay.

“I-i need water!” He cringed at the crack in his voice, wincing at the silence that followed. “...I-I’m thirsty...?”

You clearly noticed the shift and your smile fell, replaced with a neutral expression. For some reason it made something in Yeonjun’s chest fall. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird or anything...I’m just not used to...your fangs y’know? Kind of freaked me out-considering your k-kind.”

Fuck, was he dumb or something? Had his lack of sleep finally caught up to him? Why was he spewing out bullshit like some kind of moron.

And then your expression dropped to a frown, eyebrows furrowing. “My kind? What do you mean by that?”

He scratched the back of his neck, “Like vampires...y’know? Y-your fangs just kinda freaked me out, b-because you drink blood and all?”

Your mouth clamped shut and those unnatural eyes shifted, looking opposite to him. “Well I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You took a deep breath. “I’d never drink from you, you know that right? I thought you knew that.” 

He opened his mouth to reply but you continued, hands gesturing wildly, looking back and pinning him with your gaze. “And you know that when I do drink I rarely ever actually...permanently harm them.”

He knew the way you substituted ‘permanently harm’ for kill was for his benefit as he replied. “I know, I know but you can never be too careful...Your kind have never been particularly trustworthy.”

He knew the mistake as soon as the word left his lips and clearly so did you, nostrils flaring, lip curled up, holding back a hiss but leaving your fangs on display.

“You go get your water. I’m gonna go out for a bit. Meet up with some friends, maybe get something to eat.” You replied, standing up with an attempted smile, an angry edge set cold in your tone. “Have a good night.”

You were out of the room before his brain finally started to work again and a very delayed, “Good night.” Echoed softly from his lips.

--

After that he barely saw you. Sometimes in the early morning when he got up for breakfast but most of the time you were out of the house doing who knows what by then.

And he was very reluctant to say that he maybe wanted to see you again? 

It was almost three weeks after your little ‘fight’, if you could even call it that?

Almost three weeks of him barely seeing you.

Almost three weeks of you...avoiding him?

Well, Yeonjun didn’t know if you were avoiding him per se. He hoped you weren’t. But whereas before when you’d say hi every now and then, ask him how his day was or whatnot, now he barely even saw you much less hear your voice.

Whenever he tried to approach you if he did see you, you would quickly blurt out that you needed to eat and quickly leave the room.

Yeah, on second thought, you were probably avoiding him. And he probably deserved it.

God! He wanted to bang his head against the wall, how could he be so stupid? ‘Your kind have never been particularly trustworthy’? What was wrong with him?

And now you were angry.

And now he was missing you.

Your weird red eyes. Your disturbing, oddly alluring smile. Your small questions and easygoing conversations. 

But how could he even be missing you? He certainly didn’t like you. You were a vampire. A crazy, blood-lust driven creature. 

He hated you.

At least he was supposed to hate you...

But now it was three weeks later and he hated to say it but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Fuck, was he going to have to apologize?

--

Yeonjun felt warm. 

Hot. 

W-why was it so hot?

Blinking slowly, his eyes opened and red one’s greeted him, nearly glowing in the dark. 

“Yeonjun.” He could nearly shiver at the minty breath fanning across his face, your voice a purr.

“W-what’re you doing?”

He felt the grip you had on his waist, pulling him closer to you. So close he could no longer tell what was you and what was him anymore. 

“Shh, pet, be quiet and just lay back for me.”

He found himself listening without thinking. “W-what’re you d-” The words cut off into a gasp, slowly shifting into a broken moan as your teeth sunk into his neck.

Something coursed through his veins. Hungry and hot. Fear? Confusion? Anger? Lust? All of them?

But clearly his reaction wasn’t important to you, taking his hair and knotting your hand roughly into the roots, pulling his head back for more access.

Your teeth sunk into his skin, like the prick of a needle, slow and excruciating for only a moment before...it turned into something else.

You paid him no mind nonetheless, drinking like you had been starved for weeks and for some reason-for some reason he could only keen. 

And finally-finally he could understand what you meant before when you’d said that humans would willingly choose to be drunk from.

‘Pleasurable in a way’, you’d described it. There was nothing ‘in a way’ about this. This was a pure aphrodisiac that you’d let loose into his bloodstream. 

Euphoria and bliss scalding hot, burning a trail of ecstasy through his body. 

You stopped for a bit to let him rest, kissing the are you had just bit and licking away any of the excess blood that was dripping from the bite marks. Smirking but mostly ignoring the way his arms uselessly tried to cling to your shoulders, pawing and begging for you to do it again.

Quietly, you leaned down to his ear, whispering as you asked if he was okay, tracing your fingers over the wound gently while focusing your eyes on him.

Was he okay?

Was he okay?

He was drunk-practically high off a single bite, begging for more, clawing at your skin and wrapping his legs around your hips.

Was he fucking okay?

He whined and scratched and finally found leverage behind your head and before you could even breath he was pushing you back towards his neck. 

Instead of getting what he so desperately needed, you pulled away entirely.

“Shh, calm down pet. You need to just wake up!”

What?

“-Yeonjun wake the fuck up you’re scaring me!”

His heart almost blew out of his chest as he tried to regain his senses, eyes opening up to see the world in white. “Fucking hell! Are you okay?”

Yeonjun blinked, trying to bring the world into focus and once he finally caught on to his surroundings, he wished he could find a rock to hide under for the rest of his very short-compared to your’s-life. 

Because there you were.

Sitting over him, face full of concern and worry. Shaking his shoulders and brushing your hand over his forehead as if checking for a fever.

“Are you okay? You were making weird noises! A-and thrashing around-were you having a nightmare-you’re really warm, your cheeks are really red too-are you sick-what can I do?”

His mouth opened but no words could possibly come out. Horror crossed his face but for none of the reasons you expected as you gasped and flitted out of the room. “You know what? I’m gonna go get you some advil. Some soup maybe! I don’t know, I’ll google what to get on the way there!”

And before he could even yell back and stop you from leaving, the door was slamming shut and you were gone and he was still sitting there as red as a fire hydrant.

...He just had a wet dream about you drinking his blood.

...and you thought that it was a nightmare because he was sick.

...and now you were gone to the store to get him things to make him feel better...

He groaned, face falling into his hands as the full weight of the mortification hit. He just had a wet dream about you drinking his blood.

What was wrong with him? Why would he ever dream about something like that? Why did he like it?

Yeonjun smothered a pillow over his head with a groan, god he should just put himself out of his misery. 

How could he ever face you again? How was he gonna act normal around you again?

He didn’t know, all he knew was something deep inside him. Somewhere shameful and embarrassing, all he could think about was-all he could wonder was How do you get a crazy, blood-lust driven creature to attack you?

--

Ever since you’d gotten back the human had been acting shifty.

It was weird.

You’d come back from the store, medicine and soup and whatever else the first website that popped up when you searched ‘home remedies for a cold’ listed on it.

But it was odd. When you got to his room he wasn’t there. And when you found him he was in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables a bit too carelessly for your opinion.

“Yeonjun, are you okay? I thought you were sick.”

He waved it off, muttering something or another about how he was fine and you were just overreacting. You weren’t too sure you believed him but didn’t argue with it.

You placed the things down on the counter, sitting on the barstool and watching him cut up some carrots roughly, somewhat distractedly as he glanced up at you every few seconds.

He liked that you cared. Liked that you were worrying over him and as much as it was tiring it filled his chest with a sort of warmth.

“Careful!” The silence was broken by your voice, his wrist gripped by yours only inches above his fingers. 

He blinked once. Twice. Avoiding your gaze as he set the knife on the cutting board and sighed.

Your gaze was heavy on him, confused and worried burning a hole into the side of his face but he tried his very best to ignore it. “Are you sure you’re not sick, Yeonjun?”

Exasperated, he finally turned to you, meeting your stare head on. “I’m fucking fine! If I say I’m fine-I’m fine! I-i just-”

Each of your hands wrapped around his wrists and suddenly he was shoved up against the counter, trapped between your body and the cool marble of it. “Just what?” You hissed darkly, digging your nails into his skin, gripping him so hard he was almost positive it would leave marks. 

Yeonjun tried to look away, tried to tear his gaze from your’s and break whatever weird trance you had over him but he couldn’t. Couldn’t pull away from the depths of your eyes, sharp and demanding.

“I-i just,” He took a deep breath in, and blurted it out. “I can’t stop thinking about you! I miss you and it’s fucking weird!” 

He ripped his body away from yours, shoving you away as he ran a hand through his hair. “And I want to apologize for calling you untrustworthy but I don’t know if I can yet but I can’t stop thinking about you and our stupid conversations and your scary as fuck eyes and your fucking fangs that I quite literally had a wet dream about!” As the words flowed out, the more and more agitated he became. Voice growing frantic and fast. 

“Because god, even though I’m completely fucking terrified of you I can���t stop thinking about them sinking into my fucking skin-”

Before he could even blink, before a single thought came to mind, he was backed against the wall. Your body like steel pushing him and your teeth were sinking into his neck and he body was set ablaze.

He could feel it. Feel the suction of the long gulps you took, the pinprick of pain just below his ear that was maddening and horrible and wonderful.

Yeonjun couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way his hips began to grind down against your thigh as you brought it up between his legs.

“Sh-shit!” He gasped, and that seemed to break you out of your trance, pulling away from his neck, scanning over his fucked-out face with a concerned yet definitely aroused expression, satisfied at just how much of a mess you could make him with a single bite.

So instead you claimed his lips. He could taste his own blood on your tongue, metallic and sharp but he moaned at it nonetheless, crying out when you pulled away, watching as he stuck out his tongue to try and chase you back into the kiss. 

His eyes were glazed over-half lidded, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted. He pleaded for you to kiss him again. For you to touch him. For you to bite him and ruin him and mark him as yours.

How could anyone turn down such a sinful plea?

You kissed him again, hungrier, rougher this time. With such force that your teeth clicked together. You winced but he didn’t seem to notice, intertwining your tongues together. Kissing you desperately and needily.

That kiss was followed by another kiss and then another. 

You laughed lightly as your teeth grazed over his tongue, cutting it slightly. You could taste the blood and he could as well. Feel it fresh as it ran freely straight into your mouth. 

Yeonjun whimpered at the slight pain. Shut up into a high-pitched mewl as you dragged your own tongue over the wound, savouring the taste of his blood and saliva intertwining into one.

He gasped as his legs were thrown around yours, carried across the room and dropped onto the couch, easily as if he weighed nothing. As if he were a feather in your arms. 

“Yeonjun~”

Thrown onto the couch with a low ‘umph’ you gazed upon him.

A mess. A gorgeous, beautiful mess. 

Bloody marks decorating the soft skin of his neck, hair disheveled, drool cascaded down his lips. Pretty, pretty eyes unfocused and wide, looking up glazed over with what you assumed to be lust. 

His arms reached out, hands grasping lightly for your shirt, for your hands, for anything that could bring him closer to you. 

You’d probably drunk too much. If his current state; the swaying of his body and the shiver of his limbs were any indication. He was high off of the sensations and clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

He kept blubbering nonsense. How he was sorry, how he wanted you-needed you, how he finally got you to drink his blood, moaned pleads and promises in a jumbled incoherent mess.

You pet back his sweaty hair, trying to ignore the way his hips bucked up into the air, whimpering in frustration at the inevitable dissatisfaction of the motion. 

“Calm down. Shh, you need to calm down.”

But he didn’t, if anything the hand resting on his forehead only made him want you more, body weak yet still writhing in place, trying to reach you. 

“Bite me, bite me again. Bite my thighs! Please, bite my thighs!”

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me to bite you baby?”

His face flushed and a wanton cry fell from his lips as he squirmed beneath you, nodding and letting his head fall back. 

“Words.” You travelled slowly down the expanse of his body, mouth nearly watering in anticipation.

His desperate nods as much as they were so adorable, so enticing, weren’t enough for you. But he needed to be quick with his answer; you were getting hungry and his blatant signs of submission weren’t making holding back any easier. 

The look in your eyes was more predatory than ever, and it made his blood boil inside him. “D-do it, do it please do it!”

And you could lie and say it was for his sake the speed of which you moved in as soon as the very first syllable broke from his mouth but, that was a lie. And you weren’t very keen on lying. Your desperation in which clearly betraying those thoughts as your nails dug into his thighs, grip hard enough to leave marks as you spread them apart. 

Yeonjun was so incredibly embarrassed; so incredibly flustered, hiding his face in his hands as he processed the situation. As he could barely process the feeling of you sliding his shorts down his legs, of his body unconsciously shimmying to make the job easier. 

Your fangs grazed his inner thigh as you began kissing around the area, dangerously close to his crotch, moaning as the intoxicating smell of Yeonjun’s blood hit your senses. 

“So good for me pet, so good~”

Your fingers blushed along his navel, distracting and overwhelming, making him shiver violently in place. And finally-finally you had found the right spot. He moaned delectably as you began mouthing at it and leaving open mouth kisses over the spot, your mouth warm and wet. 

His thighs trembled on either side of your head as you licked a long stripe over the place and kissed it-almost tenderly one more time. 

“Just stay still for me, okay baby?”

He nodded frantically, hands flying to your hair, head up and eyes watching in lustful anticipation as you opened your mouth, fangs-that he’d gotten in fucking fight with you about earlier-shimmering in the low light, decorated prettily by your saliva. 

And slowly, ever so slowly, you began to lower them into Yeonjun’s thigh, fangs easily sliding in through his skin.

And this-this was a million times better than his dream-a billion. This was scalding and dizzying, his mind melting into a jumbled mess, not a single thought able to form. Not a single word than pleas and begs for more and more and more.

It was too much, barely enough, just right. Just enough to push him right to the edge as he squirmed and moaned under your mouth.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna...” 

He gasped out and god was it embarrassing as he came. You hadn’t even touched him. You hadn’t done anything except for bite him!

He could barely even focus on those thoughts as his body tensed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, stars swimming in his vision.

So overwhelmed and so far gone that he didn’t realize you’d eased out of him until you were cradling his head in your arms and softly whispering words he couldn’t quite make out into his ear.

Soft words and sweet nothings, covered in bites and bruises, your body solidly wrapped around his, he fell asleep.

The last thing before the darkness overtook him was looking up to see a tender smile, a gentle forehead kiss and a brush of a hand down his thighs.

[just-jordie-things]

hello i'm not sure if you take requests i'm sorry If not 😭 but I really love your fics and I was wondering if you could do something like a long distance relationship with megumi? like reader is from kyoto jujutsu high and they met during that competition event, it can be hcs or whatever you like. Thank u in advance 💖

yes yes yes let's do some chunky hcs bc i never do them and they're fun _

when you first meet the tokyo students, you come across as shy. which isn't really who you are, but they'd just lost one of their friends, and you didn't think it was right to mess with them like mai and todo were. so you tucked yourself behind the rest of your classmates and kept your eyes glued to your phone

(when yuuji ends up being alive and you're told that the mission here is to kill the vessel by whatever means necessary, you still keep your eyes down, but you're anything but distracted)

you don't run into megumi directly. you run into a demon dog. at first you brandish your weapon, frowning at the idea of having to defend yourself against such a fluffy creature. but it seemed the dog wasn't focused on you, as if attacking you wasn't the command it had been given. as you approach it, your steps are calculated, slow, just to be sure it wasn't going to catch you off guard.

more peculiar, when you got close enough, and you lowered your weapon to your side, the big puppy sat itself on the ground. you actually laughed, before carefully placing your hand between it's ears for a little scratch. the divine dog seemed to smile as it panted and pushed it's head further into your pleasant scratching.

"i can't just sit here all day and pet you you know," you coo to the shikigami, but despite your words you crouch down to get a better look at it's detailed markings. "but a little break couldn't hurt, could it?" you ask with a bright smile.

the dog thumps it's tail against the ground a few times, displaying it's content with your attention. again, you giggle. if only you could've been born with a cursed technique that could bring you such companionship.

"you're such a good boy, aren't you?" you praise. "or girl? i'm sorry. I wonder if you have a name..."

you're not sure how much time had passed, but you know it's not smart to stay in one place for too long. you don't know what would be worse, your opponent finding you, or your own peers.

you figure you'd rather the curses unleashed in the area would be your best bet.

however just as you're about to go back to the task at hand, you're caught. or, found, really.

"what the hell are you doing?"

your weapon in hand again, you whirl around towards the voice, and you even step in front of the shikigami as though you were it's protector.

there stands one of the tokyo students, a sword in hand but it's lowered to his side, and the most perplexed face you've ever seen on anyone.

(it's kind of cute, actually)

"dogs are my weakness" you shrug with you honest answer to his question.

it's then that his eyes shift to you, and you realize he hadn't been talking to you, he'd been talking to the divine dog. you snort.

"so you're his owner?" you think out loud. "does he have a name?"

megumi blinks, bewildered by such a question. shouldn't you be attacking him right now? he supposes he should have used your distraction as an opening to get you out first, but he couldn't help but stop in his tracks when he caught you baby talking his shikigami.

whether that was because you were so pretty and he hadn't seen you before, or he was confused as to why his shikigami wasn't following simple orders, he wasn't sure. (it was definitely both tho)

"uh, totality" he answers, and he doesn't know why, it's not like you need an answer, it's not like he owes you an answer, but it comes out before he can stop himself.

you grin, and turn back to the dog- turning your back completely on your opponent- just to scratch behind his ears and coo again.

"totality," you repeat with a smile, and the shikigami's tail waves back and forth in wide swoops on the ground. "what a good boy, aren't you?"

no, megumi thinks bitterly, he's not a good boy because he was supposed to be taking out the kyoto students, yet here you were, playing with him.

"i'm (y/n)," you say, and megumi isn't sure if you're introducing yourself to him or the shikigami, because your focus remains completely on the latter. "you're megumi, right?"

he doesn't say anything, maybe because he's been at a loss for words since he's stumbled upon this little interaction, or maybe because he's suddenly feeling... shy?

"mai's told me about you," you explain, turning to look at him again. he still has his weapon at his side, and you smile at how unguarded he seems to be. so far, he doesn't seem anything at all like you classmate had explained.

(then again, mai had tried to convince everyone her sister was no threat, but you'd met maki, and you know to keep a distance because you'd like to keep all your teeth intact)

"did you do something to him? why isn't he attacking you?"

you shrug again, before turning to face your opponent once more.

"I dunno," you shrug. "maybe his master doesn't will him to attack me, so he hasn't," you smirk at the insinuation, and your pride only blooms when megumi visibly flusters. even from a few feet away, you can see the tips of his ears go red.

and the truth is megumi is flustered. incredibly so. here you were, a stranger, an opponent, cooing to his shikigami like it were a puppy you saw in a pet store window, and now you were smiling at him and you weren't even lifting your weapon. maybe he didn't want totality to get you out of the event? were you right to assume that?

now that he thinks about it, he hasn't exactly lifted his weapon either. but that's just cause he was shocked, right?

"well, since you're not getting me out, i'll do you a favor too," you say, and suddenly you're approaching him, rapidly so. every instinct tells him to tighten his grip on his weapon and brandish it before you could get too close, but somehow you stand before him and his sword remains at his side.

this is your cursed technique, right? you must be doing something to make him freeze in place, because this was completely out of the ordinary for him.

"itadori is in danger," your voice drops in volume, and it also loses the sweet, cursive melody you'd previously used when speaking to his shikigami like a pet. "the old man wants him dead. you need to make sure your team knows"

a million thoughts and questions race through his head, but megumi remains silent, his eyes wide as he stares at you, trying to decipher if you're even telling the truth. this could be a trap after all, maybe an ambush. you have no reason to show all your cards and confess this to him, after all.

but your features are serious, hardened with genuinity. and megumi realizes you have no reason to lie, either. he swallows a lump in his throat before he nods.

he's not sure why he trusts you, but he just feels like he should. in that moment, it feels like he's known you longer than the past three minutes, like it's been years, like you're his closest confidant and there wasn't a chance in the world you could deceive him.

you nod back at him, before a small smile creeps over your lips, letting yourself indulge in his pretty features before you step away with the intention of getting back to the event.

"you get one pass megumi, i still have a game to win" you tell him with a grin. "but i do hope I can see you again!"

lucky for him your back is turned as you head off into the trees, because the comment makes the rest of his face burn hot and he knows it would be obvious if you were looking his direction.

with you out of sight, he turns his attention towards totality.

"what the hell was that?" he mutters, and for a second, he actually would have appreciated an answer, because whatever your hold on him was, hadn't seemed like cursed energy at all.

i'm loving this i'm gonna make a part two to this in a bit :3

[dantenyhpmir]

Under the Mask

Pairing; Konig x F!Reader

Plot; When a bullet goes through Konig's mask and he survives you suspect there might be something supernatural under that cloth

Warnings; CNC, unprotected sex, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Eldritch horror themes, supernatural sex, anal play

Word Count; 3340

Dante Nyhpmir Masterlist

You and Konig had been seeing each other for a while now. Well seeing each other in a way? You weren't sure. You spent every lunch together, never running out of anything to talk about. He always asked about your day, checked in with you. It was sweet, he'd listen to you ramble on about your niche interests. Whatever side of the internet you found yourself on this week, he'd listen to your stories for hours. He especially loved when you'd talk about all your favourite horror novels but how you'd never watch scary movies. "The irony" he'd say. Offer to watch the movies with you but never really finding the time to do so. He had reached your hand once on a mission though caught himself and let go before the others could see. That's basically seeing each other right? You weren't supposed to fraternize, especially at this ranking but something about that made it even more appealing. You knew the others were. You had no proof of Ghost and the other woman on your sniper squad, Zero but something was going on that Price turned a blind eye to. He could do the same for you and Konig, no?

No. Konig was different. There was something very specific about him that they kept their eyes on more. Ghost they left alone, let him run around the shadows killing as he pleased. Quietly. Konig was bigger, more violent and loud when it came to his missions. Never missed a target.

Price wanted to know where everyone was on a mission but they tracked Konig. He only had so many hours that were free before we would be ushered away. Making horror movie hours difficult to actually pull the trigger on though heightened the thrill. Made you want him a bit more than you already did. You couldn't pretend that he didn't dismiss your observations though. Anytime you'd question why he was so heavily watched compared to the others, he'd deflect. "I'm not being watched anymore than anyone else" or "I think you're seeing what you want to see." It wasn't in a harsh tone either, rather gentle when he said it but you knew he was hiding something.

You had never seen his face. He never let you. You'd try to hold his face through the cloth that drapes down over his eyes but he'd always gently move your hands away, to the back of his neck or shoulders.

Your mind starts wondering if he has something to hide underneath. Like actually hiding, not just a scar but …. What could you even be hiding? It had been months though, spending time together, sneaking off when you could, a lot of late night chats yet, he never kissed you. Did he even have lips underneath? Stupid. Stupid thoughts.

They didn't seem so stupid though after the latest mission. You were watching Konig much closer than usual. Your sniper is meant to be trained on the enemies but your scope couldn't leave Konig. You wanted to see him move, see if the cloth would ever jossl in a way that you could make something out. It seemed silly, that shouldn't be your priority compared to training your eyes on the enemy but it added up when you saw a bullet go through one side of the cloth and then the other but he stood still, calm and unaffected. Really, unaffected.

That should've killed him. Should've taken his jaw clean off but nothing. Absolutely nothing. The next few days your brain is realigning. Before you know it you're doubting yourself and each time you replay what you saw in front of you, it shakes out differently. What you saw turns into what you believe you saw, what you think you saw. It kept you up at night. You had lived a rough enough life before joining 141, most of the team had. You knew your brain would change memories the more you replayed them. Or at least distort them. The distraction of if you really saw the bullet go through his mask all became too much over the next few days. Zero had noticed but you'd shrug it off. How could you share anything with anyone, there was nothing to share. Yet. You could find out. If you found the mask.

It was late. Everyone had their debriefs. Konig was last. Always last. You and Zero were first, Price wanted the woman to still feel prioritized. Honestly it wasn't something you thought about but right now "ladies first" was perfect for your plan. Giving you all the time to sneak into Konig's room while everyone was occupied waiting for their meeting with Price.

You search through as many of his things as possible. Trying not to upset where they might be too much but folding the clothes back to how they were was a skill you didn't exactly have. Especially in your panic. What were you doing? Could this have really driven you SO unhinged that you snuck into a man's room to look through his things. This is the kind of thing you'd hope a man would never do to you. And yet. You just, needed answers.

It dawned on you for a moment, why were there only clothes. Where were the pictures? Where were plants or any decorations. It was just a dark room with a dresser and bed. Nothing else….

The search became more and more desperate. Why would he even keep that mask if it had happened. Why would anyone? What would it even prove if you found it? What wo-

It was buried beneath the others. You held it up and light from your cell phone flashlight Shawn between the holes. Not the eye holes. Lower.

Where the bullet went through.

It takes a minute to process before you hear him.

"Liebling" he calls to you "What are you doing in my quarters?"

When did he even come in, you never heard him?

"Konig" you don't turn around. "Did, did a bullet go through your mask?"

You can feel the steps he takes, his body standing behind you. His arms slowly wrap around and lower your arms. His chest pressed against your back.

"It was, how you say, a close call" he says calmly as he takes the mask out of your hands.

"I saw it Konig" you finally turn to face him. "It should've gone through your jaw."

"You must be mistaken" He reassures

"Konig I can see the holes in your mask from the bullet?!" You yell but something catches your eye. Something moved under his cloth mask and your eyes dart around him.

There's silence.

You don't know what's wrong but you know something is in the air. Your spine knows when you're in danger. You played your hand too soon and he steps closer. His chest pushing against you as you catch your body with your hands leaning on his pecs.

"You should not have come here my pet" he says looking down at you

You can't move. Even now, even with every sense of danger, he isn't saying anything hostile. How does he possibly manage to wake every nerve in your body but calm it at the same time. You can't go anywhere. You can't move. You won't move. You want answers.

"Konig" you say calmly, looking up at him.

He says nothing. Just watching your eyes. Sensing all your fear and empathy drenching from them.

"What is under your mask?"

"You won't understand"

"I'd like to try"

He does nothing.

"If I show you, no one will believe you." He says calmly.

"Konig what is going on?! You can't bare to kiss me, you don't have a jaw, is there anything under there?!"

"I can't answer that"

"You won't"

"It's not something, explainable."

"Try me"

He exhales, slowly taking off his helmet and holding his hands at the bottom of the cloth mask.

"You won't be able to unsee it Liebling"

You nodd. Not understanding what you're getting into. No one could. No one can prepare you for something your mind doesn't really grasp.

Konig pulls the cloth off his head, it relieves everything and yet, nothing. His face isn't human but it's not anything you'd seen before either. It's like your mind shuts down what it's actually seeing, it can't fathom it. The closest thing it feels and looks like is light. Light radiating off him and also tentacles? Not like octopus but.. .. not anything close to an animal that's on earth. You've read about these before. Eldritch horrors.

You're so hypnosised by the glow as some of the tentacles curl around your face. Holding your jaw the way a man would with his hands. Konig's forehead touches yours as the tentacles wrap around and pull your face closer. One tightens around your neck. Your brain switches from the beautiful seren energy of the light to a moment of pure fear as it tightens.

Your eyes widen and you stare at his eyes in panic. Were these eyes ever human?

"Konig, are you going to kill me?" You ask with a gulp

"No," he says gently "I'm finally going to have my fun with you"

Your body is wrapped up completely, where the other tentacles arms came from you had no real idea. The room was pitch black, you had no clue where his body began and where the other arms and darkness began. You could only see his eyes. Staring at you. Wanting you with every slight change in eye direction. Caressing you before the extra arms would. His face antennules let go go of you as you realize other tentacles had already made their way to your body. Holding you. You didn't know when that happened but they were there. From the pitch black of the floor.

They slowly moved around your ankles, pulling off your shoes. Running farther up your legs to your belt and taking off your pants. As it took your shirt off it wrapped your arms up again behind you as you turn back to look at Konig. What you think is Konig. The closest thing he has to a human form as you're wrapped up in the dark by what feels like his minions. But they aren't their own people. People

Time didn exist. It all happened so slowly yet it didn't really seem like it changed. You didn't feel like you changed yet you were a part of this force. Whatever was rilling up in the dark and wrapping your body. Your now naked body.

You can't feel the floor. Some other being is holding you. Like you're floating as the tentacles wrap themselves around your wrist, tightening. Curling back around your ankles, slowly sliding up. Biting their time with your body. Holding on and caressing the back of your knees, and with each twitch they get tighter. Each slight jerk of pleasure your body makes, it responds too and tightens.

You close your eyes drifting off in pleasure as they curl up even closer. Wrapping around your thighs, you can feel the edge of them just close enough to your lips but not touching. Not yet. They wait patiently for Konig.

Your eyes open. You can see him. Standing in front of you. What you think is Konig. Those are his eyes. His human eyes. It's hard to make out his face and he doesn't really give you much time. He puts the cloth back on over his face but the tentacles attached to his jaw like to peek out. Say hello. Meet the parts of you they hadn't gotten the chance too yet.

It was terrifying. And euphoric.

Your body was completely on display and pinned there for him. To play with. To do whatever he wanted. Whatever that could look like.

His fingers tips delicately touched the top of your skin over your stomach, slowly moving and wrapping around your waist as the tentacles around your thighs pulled at you. Spreading you. His hands pulled your body closer to him and the other beings holding you obliged.

You couldn't look away, you also couldn't talk. Nothing would come out of your mouth when you tried. Konig stayed dead slight ,too but what was there to say?

You only watched. Eyes wide and mouth unable to fully shut.

The helper tentacles finally stop spreading you once your lips had pulled apart so Konig had a perfect view of your clit before he could taste it. Somehow, through all of this, your body was washed with excitement and a stand spread across your lips as they opened. Konig raised his hand for them to stop and they followed right away.

Was he it's leader? Brain? Were they physically connected some how? How did this work?

None of that matters. Not once the tentacles from his face started caressing between your thighs. One slowly massaging the spot where your legs met your pelvis, the other curling around your waist, another reaching around behind to hold your ass. Honestly you lost track of how many there were. You lost track of time. Your thoughts. Everything. You weren't here and with each tentacle doing its own job, you could let yourself go. Your eyes glaze over as another finds its way just around your ass, then tighter into a grab.

You yelp. It's the closest thing you've made to a noise since you've been here. Since, that, thing, Konig, whoever, took over your body. All of them are drowning in what feels like, spit, moving around your body. One makes its way to your back entrance. Gently running back and forth. Waking up every nerve. Your eyes light up. No noise this time. Just Konig's eyes staring up at you as it wriggles its way in, stimulating you to a fault as you whip your head back but his companions won't let that happen.

One of the floor tentacles wraps itself around your neck, another to the sides of your head, pushing it forward. Your eyes back on Konig's as his face destroys you. As if you dared to see, you dared watched. You weren't allowed to look away now.

You could feel it curl between your lips. Two of them, slowly making their way inbetween you, crawling closer and closer. More wrapping around your waist. Tighter and tighter. One moves from your lip to your clit, just ever so slightly wrapping around, massaging it as the other traces the entrance to your cunt in slow circles. Reminding you where it was headed, what it wanted.

You can hear inside your head, Konig's voice. Many of Konig's voices, some off set, some in trance with one another. All saying the same thing

"Don't look away"

As it registers they bury themselves inside you, pushing as deep as they can while the other pieces wrap around your waist and stomach and pull you in closer. You let out a scream of shock but another aiding tentacle pushes your jaw up to shut it. It can't entirely, you're too in awe. Can't stop moaning at the other stimulation but Konig can't have anyone hear. No one else can enter this place and find what he is, so he has to shut you up.

It moves closer and plunges itself into your mouth, something for you to gag on while the rest of you can be finished off. You can't escape this, do you want too? It was overwhelming and terrifying and objectifiying and yet every nerve wanted to be woken up. Even as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision pointed to what was being done to you.

To the pieces spreading open your lips and feeling every inch of your wall, stretchy you out as the other put pressure on your stomach so you could feel the roof of your own cunt being pushed against. Your clit being slapped and then caressed at a moment's notice. Every possible drop coming from you spreads around your lips and drips down on the pieces wrapped around your legs. Finding their way to the sensitive spot between your ass and cunt. The final tentacle at your back door never letting up. Never not letting you know every nerve and feeling you had there.

All of it at once, all it was so overstimulating. Tears ran down your face as you choked and gagged on another piece. The ones holding your wrist behind your back got tighter and pushed your chest forward. Your breasts on display as more tentacles wrapped around them. You try and gasp for air, it was the last thing that hadn't been touched.

If you had air you would scream for a break, just for a moment. Catch your breath. Hold off but your mouth was full. Something told you, you didn't need your mouth to communicate. You heard Konig's voice in your head. He had to be hearing yours? He had to know how scared you were, how thrilled you were, the break that you needed.

He knew. He didn't care. You could see it in his eyes and his voice echoed in your head.

"Let. Go."

Your drool falling all over your neck. You're a mess. Leaking everywhere as the tentacles have their fill with you. You go to scream as your body writhes, but all there is to hear is the muffling choking sounds of you gagging.

"Don't look away" echoes again

Your body pulsing. The tentacles try to hold you, you can feel every response to yours. How it blends together, how they'll find a spot that twitches, push and build, you'll react and it repeats, all in harmony. All in over stimulated overwhelming harmony. Your body couldn't take much more, it wasn't prepared for this.

"You wanted this" rings in your ear

"You wanted to see me" echoes

Your eyes shut but you still see his eyes. They've followed you to wherever you are when you enter your mind

"You can't hide from me" Konig's voice echoed.

Feeling chased into spaces you didn't think he could follow. Your eyes shake open as your body finally let's go. It has to be present, has to be in this exact moment where every sense comes to life and let's go as your body floods with an orgasm it didn't think it was capable of. To have so much attention to your body just explode out of you. Your body jerks and writhes for, you don't even know how long, as the tentacles let it move as it needs too. With every twitch adjusting to you to make sure you were comfortable as you drip and drip onto the pitch black abbyuss of the floor.

It takes a long time before your body is able to fully calm down. It's exhausted, being used so heavily. The pieces bring you to bed, lay you down gently. Konig covers you up and you curl up next to him. Laying on his chest. His eyes looking down at you. Not saying a word. Not explaining anything.

Your hands reach up to his jaw, but not touching. Waiting for them to accept the touch as one of tentacles reaches out to touch your hand, Konig turns his head to have his forehead touch yours and the tentacles caress your face as your eyes flutter and your mind fades away into sleep out of pure exhaustion.

His voice rings in your head again. Echoing.

"I wanted to do more than kiss you"

Your body needed rest. To recover.

It felt like days had passed, you weren't sure they hadn't but you still couldn't move when you managed to wake up. Alone. In his bed.

There was a note left for you.

"I told them you were sick, stay in bed Liebling. I'll take care of you tonight."

You curled back into the covers. You had searched for answers but hadn't even left with a single one.

Only more questions.

That you couldnt fathem.

Dante Nyhpmir Masterlist

[liminalpebble]

Between the Lines, Chapter 7

Masterlist link

Between the Lines, Chapter 7

You say nothing as the tempo of your breathing slows and your tears continue to fall in warm rivulets down your cheeks. Everything goes empty and blank as an unmarked page. Time moves slowly and strangely as you watch his respiration still alongside your own, his broad gold chest plate rising and falling.

It's the calm at the eye of the storm, the calm of the unwritten and unknown, and you fear that it cannot last. A catalyst is coming.

There's a kind of relief to failing spectacularly, you observe.

The green tentacles of magic still gripping you emanate a pulsating glow, cutting through the late evening darkness with a preternatural liquid luminescence. With the dusk, the cold smooth walls of marble, and the ghostly light, his chambers feel like a tomb, all the warmth of the day banished by their master's mood. You wonder, in fact, if this will be your tomb soon. You shiver visibly.

Without the sorcery securing you, you might have collapsed by now. Standing feels far beyond the capability of your shocked system. All you can do is hang your head, tremble, cry, and await execution for your insolence.

Gods, what have I done?, you wonder.

Gods, what have I done to her?, he wonders.

“Look at me. Meet my eyes,” he orders haughtily, but his voice sounds oddly brittle, as if he's about to cry. Yet, when you obey and gaze upon him, there are no tears, no...anything. He looks like a perfect, stunning sculpture; alabaster smooth.

The snaking vines of magic recede and his arm supports you instead, sliding gently around your waist. His nimble hand rubs a comforting little circle against the small of your back. He's suddenly so careful, like he's holding porcelain.

Loki scolds himself for not realizing that you could actually be breakable, that you would have cracks in your armor just like everyone else. The pedestal he kept you on was too high up to see them.

His brother had always been the one accused of handling his “toys” too roughly, but Loki is horrified to realize he is guilty of the same crime, albeit in a different way.

It shocks the prince to see that his cruel games may be a good deal worse than Thor's less convoluted sins. Thor is a hammer, recklessly swung; Loki is a subtle poisonous knife, surgically precise in the violence he causes. His harm is persistent, insidious. The God of Mischief can shatter anyone and anything into a thousand pieces, whether he intends to or not.

This time, he didn't intend to. This time he regrets it to his core. This time, he would do anything to fix you.

Must I unravel every good thing? Must I even make love so terrible and twisted?

He shook his bowed head, heavy with culpability, trying to banish the thought.

“May I...may I show you something?” the prince asks, carefully.

You nod, unsure of what else you could possibly do but follow him in shaky, adrenaline-addled, steps while he supports you.

With a swallow, you find your raspy voice and ask the dreaded question. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”

Loki stops in his tracks, holds your face as he gasps out, “No! No. How could I destroy such a priceless treasure which I labored so hard to find...to have here with me?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I'll show you. I'll show you everything.”

------

The prince leads you into a smaller alcove off of the main hall of the library, some kind of curated collection. As you peruse the volumes, you notice every spine has the familiar imprint of your name. Every one of your books, your works, your essays, stand meticulously organized on elaborate shelves.

Loki steps away from you, carefully releasing you from his grasp and pacing away, avoiding your eyes as he confesses.

He asks, “Now, do you see? I fell in love with you long before I ever saw your face.”

You open you mouth to speak, but no words come out. No one had ever told you they loved you; not your honorable but unaffectionate family, not your esteemed colleagues. There were no friends. There was no time for them when you had so much to achieve. Your family had praised your accomplishments in tightly-admitted “well done”s and “congratulations”. Your colleagues held you in the highest regard; bestowing awards and glowing letter of recommendation .

But love? No. Love was never something admitted outright. Love was conditional. Love was earned, and you could never be sure if it was actually love or something more like pride or respect or approval.

But this god-prince is standing before you, telling you he loves you; for your mind, for who you are. He loves you for those words you've sent out on paper, like origami boats sailing into the night; patiently crafted love letters to a world that never loved you back. The irony isn't lost on you; he loves you for your words, yet now you can't find any to offer him.

He continues, still unable to meet your eyes.

“I loved your stories, most of all. What splendid worlds you build out of thin air! Such beauty, such poetry,” he says wistfully, gently brushing his fingertips along the spines. “But, they always had such a bittersweet loneliness about them...a loneliness I imagined we both understood all too well. And because of that, for once in my life, I didn't feel alone.”

He meets your eyes, finally, and a shimmer of green light flickers down his face. The alabaster mask of his composure vanishes and unveils his true face, flushed a raw, pale, pink over his ghostly pallor. His large bright eyes glimmer with tears. His expressive mouth presses tightly shut as he wages war with his tumultuous feelings.

With a shuddering breath he goes further. “And I deeply admired your work, your vision, your desire for Asgard to leave its ignorant dark ages behind and move into the light of reason and equality. A society where knowledge of the broader universe is the right of all, rather than a horded commodity for royalty.”

You take careful steps towards him. Though you feared this might be yet another trick, he seemed heartrendingly genuine.

He's being honest, and it's tearing him apart.

As you near him, he takes your much smaller hands in his. He's suddenly painfully aware of how much more powerful he is than you, and how paradoxically fragile and formidable you are. He lifts one of your hands, the same one that had struck him, and settles it carefully against his cheek with an affectionate nuzzle. Then he turns his head, pressing a kiss softly to the lifelines of your palm and staying there, letting the moment settle around him like sand in an hour glass.

You find your words, and wince because you know they're not really the right ones. “I...I'm so sorry for hitting you. I've never done anything like that before.”

Loki chuckles...a genuine one this time, an amused little puff of air that pushes up the apples of his cheeks. You feel the contour of it shift where your palm still curls against him.

“It's alright,” he says with a sniff. “I rather deserved it.”

His smile fades and he meets your eyes. This time the aquamarine orbs shine brightly with the varnish of tears, and the frame of faint pink lining his tear ducts only emphasize them more strikingly. He's stunning; rapturously pierced and vulnerable like a saint in a Renaissance paining. It's impossible to look away from him.

“I adored you for your truth, your freedom, and your goodwill, and yet I've rewarded it with deception, captivity, and cruelty.”

You just stare at each other for a long moment. He's taken your breath away (something you didn't think could actually happen, something you always assumed was only a cliche). You try desperately to find some air in your lungs in order to speak again. Yet again, you feel as if you're not saying the right thing. Your responses seem so common and clumsy after these eloquent speeches from his silver tongue.

“I'm sorry. This is new for me. I don't know how to do this,” you explain, fidgeting with your hands.

“Do what?”

You rise to your toes, bracing your hands on the golden armor around his shoulders.

Be brave, you tell yourself. Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.

@lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @peaches1958 @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @muddyorbs @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @goblingirlsarah @sweetsigyn @unlucky-number-13 @mochie85 @acidcasualties @alexakeyloveloki @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @ladyofthestayingpower @mischiefmaker615 @loopsisloops @sailorholly @coldnique @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @gigglingtiggerv2 @anukulee @azula-karai-27 @eleniblue @marcotheflychair @litaloni @gruftiela @literatureatthebowofnails @meowmeow-motherfucker @wolfsmom1

[misc-obeyme]

I'm curious now. Could you tell us more about your Brainrot over Barbatos "cosmic powers"? Or his time travel abilities?

Do you ever think he's old as time itself? (Google said Time itself is 14 billion years old). I wonder if he's the FIRST demon to exist right after the Demon king.

Anon, are you sure you want to get into this with me? Because when I tell you I've thought about it way too much...

I think there are a lot of possibilities for what the game means when it says that Barbatos has been around since before the Devildom took shape. I think that's what most of us are thinking of when it comes to considering how old he truly is. There's this general idea that the game hints at that Barbatos is far older than anyone and knows a lot about everything. It's implied that he had a younger phase or time of his life when he was less refined and restrained. It hints that there is so much more to his story.

Could there be something actually waiting for us that the devs have considered regarding Barb's history? Possibly. But considering their track record, I'm not sure if we'll ever actually find out what that might be. And if we do, it might be somewhat underwhelming.

That leaves us to speculate what it could be. And I've seen many different takes on it, some I like and some I'm like meh about.

For myself, I have considered multiple possibilities, especially in regards to his powers. What does it mean to be able to manipulate time? To be able to see a vast array of potential timelines? To move through them?

I explore some of this in The Threads That Bind. The curse that MC is hit with causes them to be able to see this sort of in between place where Barbatos can see the streams of different timelines.

But I also explored a slightly different take on it in a drabble where MC asks him if they meet in every timeline.

It's a concept that's so complicated and so twisty that you can write about it in multiple ways and still never fully explore all it could mean.

I tend to go with whatever works best for the scenario I'm writing. In Threads, I kept the ideas consistent with each other, but outside of a longer story like that, I find it fun to see how those powers can work in different ways.

That being said, I generally think about it like there's one main timeline - the one he's in. And then there are many other timelines and he exists in all of them. For instance, we have Timeline A and Timeline B. Barb A can see Timeline B and Barb B in that timeline and vice versa. They're aware of each other but they exist separately.

However, Barb A can also see the various ways that his own timeline can change. Every choice causes it to branch. So while he can see timelines like Timeline B that start separately from his, he can also see branches from his own timeline. Thus creating something like a Timeline A-1, a branch where a Barb A-1 now exists and makes different choices and changes in ways Barb A does not.

But this can get complicated and kinda brain hurty, so sometimes I just scrap all of that and think about it more in terms of vibes. Or perhaps in a more muddled way, such as the "time soup" description offered up by the game itself.

I like to think that Barbatos understands these complexities in a way that's natural to him. He just has the ability to feel and understand it all by instinct. Maybe he explains some concepts to MC in ways he thinks they'll understand or in ways that make them feel like their own current existence isn't meaningless. But he can never really explain it to them in a way that would allow them to understand it like he does.

I also like the idea that he deliberately shuts off his ability to tell what happens in the future. I mean we know he does this and that he'll only travel through time with Diavolo's permission. (Though really it's more like at Dia's request.) It's just so badass to be able to tell how each decision you make will change the course of your future and decide that you'd rather be surprised.

As for his age, I think it makes sense for him to be as old as time itself. But I do think he could potentially be slightly younger than time. His understanding of it doesn't mean he had to exist for all of it. Or maybe he traveled back to the beginning just to witness it all for himself.

If time is a soup, Barb's age probably is, too.

And I like to think he existed before the first Demon King. I think he's older than the Devildom, therefore older than its ruler.

I think Barb is more powerful than the demon kings ever were, but prefers not to have that particular rank or title. He's more of a working in the shadows type of guy.

But of course these are just my own thoughts. Well this is the tip of the iceberg of my thoughts a;dlkjfasdflj. Ask me next week and I might say something completely different lol!

[notsodailykurudoro]

Day 23

(day 19 continuation)

“Not a problem!” Dororo gleamed, giving the smaller man his space as he stared around the place. 

It was… something. 

“I could help you tidy up this place if you so let me.” He offered.

Kururu already had started eating and boy was he going at it, he took a brief break of trying to feed his starving self to muster a “Suit yourself” between bites.

And I shall, thought the taller man, tying together his long hair to work better on the stinking mess that was now Kururu's room. He swore he'd seen burrows ten times neater than whatever the everloving heck was going on here. 

Luckily, he came prepared. A soft smile drew onto hidden lips as he began tossing visible junk on a big plastic bag. The room was dark, barely lit by three monitors from the ostentatious mumbo-jumbo that shaped together Kururu's rather expensive setup. Sometimes he wonders where he gets the stuff, sometimes he is brave enough to inquire about such, and sometimes he gets a halfhearted answer. Sometimes, he worries.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't actually worried all the time. For him, for them, for everyone. 

Had anyone ever paid him back?

That was also a sometimes. 

He kept working on the task at hand, he had a long way ahead but he’ll manage, he was more than satisfied with just having managed to get the hermit to eat something that wasn't artificially made or not even proper food at all. 

He could tell by all the wrappers and boxes discarded on the sticky floor that he'd spent at least weeks eating garbage, if not more. A pit sank in his stomach, well known worry setting in his limbs, sensitive enough to feel his vacant eyes stinging. He tried not to think too hard about it in order to stop himself from shaking, but he knew Kururu's health was worsening by the second and he couldn't help but feel unfathomably sad about it. 

He steadied his breathing, squatting down to toss what seemed like a bunch of crumpled papers next to the ginger's bed. 

Dororo squinted, stopping in his tracks as he tried to fix his gaze on a single not ruined sheet lying on the floor beneath the disgusting mass of quilts, gadgets, clothes and pillows that was the litter. 

He held it gently between long fingers, glancing quickly at the smaller nerd that was too distracted eating while he pondered at something on whatever in the world those screens were showing him, before returning to try and take a read at the messy handwriting. 

It was, again, very dark, however he was well accustomed to see among shadows.

So he read. 

…

…?

And he read again.

…

…

… It was a suicide note. 

He felt his heart stop for a whole second, eyes wide as could be while trying with every fiber of his being to not freak out audibly at the fatal discovery. He swallowed, dry, debating whether or not it was a good idea to bring it up to his companion. 

This was awful! Why would he think about such atrocity? Had he arrived too late, or just in time? He looked… rather bad, but honestly he could never tell the difference and that made him feel even worse. 

He had to think, read the room, think about his feelings, plan out how he was gonna say it so Kururu didn't felt awkward and decided he didn't want Dororo in his life anymore, think about his tone and words and when and how and

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY GONNA DO IT?” A heavy teary eyed Dororo exclaimed as he held onto the hikikomori with one hand and held the note with the other.

Startled outta his mind, Kururu tried to narrow his own fucked up gaze towards what he was trying to show him, the contact making him uneasy as well as the crying. 

“I- uh- wuh-” He stammered, finally focusing on what he had in his hands and feeling his heart stop for a solid split of a second. 

Unbothered, a strained almost permanent smile kept the snarky bite on his words as he reached for the note. 

“Now where didja find that…?” 

“WERE YOU? KURURU-DONO, PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO TELL ME-”

“Where?"

“Th-T-The bedframe, beneath it…” The martial arts enthusiast sniffed, easing his grasp on the technician as to not keep bothering further. He was honestly kinda surprised he didn't instantly shoved him away. 

The yellow devil remained silent for a few beats, rereading the thing as if having forgotten that he, at some point in his recent life, stood so ridiculously low to write such a pathetic excuse of a letter. 

The flash of a thought came to him, who was ever gonna read it anyway? but after glancing out of the corner of his vision and seen the barely illuminated ninja shed abnormally large tears, he reconsidered. 

He crumpled the note and tossed it away. 

“Don't worry about it.” He lazily elaborated, slumping forward once again to keep scrolling on what seemed to be a shady forum long forgotten by even god himself, stuff that Dororo could not get even if he tried or cared enough. 

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!?” The taller man quickly retorted. “Y-Y-H-HOw am I sure you’re not gonna shorten further y-y-your lifespan!?”

Kururu cringed ever so slightly. 

“And I-I apologize deeply if this is still a sour subject to you, but sir, I hold deep worry towards your well being!”

“I know.”

“I'm serious!”

“... I know.”

“So, please do I beg you… Would you tell me if something greatly bothers you? If there's something straining your chest with anguish?”

Kururu seemed so distant from his spot, even if merely inches away, he always seemed to hide just enough to be unreadable yet clear enough to tell he was going through it™. It didn't helped to ease Dororo's nerves. 

“Please? At least would you try?”

“... ‘k” 

“Thank goodness…” He sighed with relief, wiping away some of his tears with the back of his bandaged hand. “I won't ask about the letter, you’ll know when to reach and I'll assist.”

“Will do my best I s’pose.” Kururu muttered, barely audible. Dororo catched it either way, and felt happy about it. “Y’can go back to whatever you were doin’, ain't going anywhere.” 

Ain't dying soon he would had said instead, but he didn't felt like tormenting the man further. Not today. 

“I shall.” 

The ninja bowed lightly, and that's the last he heard of him as he fixed again on the screens, tired eyes fully hidden under glasses that were hit directly by the blue light. 

He felt arms wrap around his frame and he almost jumped at the sudden touch, the scent of incense and pinetrees giving away the perpetrator if not already painfully obvious. 

“Wh… Why…” Words couldn't leave his mouth properly as he fought with his own weird stoicness and months of being a touchstarved sociopathic freak. 

“I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I hope this isn't uncomfortable to you-”

Kururu considered. His smell was awful if not just rotten, had the temperature of an oven on Christmas and not for the reasons anyone thought, and the feeling of someone else touching him was just indescribable pain. 

And yet…

“... I don't mind.”

Maybe that's what the mask was for. 

They remained like that for a short while before the long haired shinobi retreated and kept trying to tidy up the room, and he went back to mess on his computer, none of them said a word afterwards. 

It was nice. 

[felice-jaganshi]

Strawberry Scented Love

Radiodust Strawberry pimp au

Chapter 1 - A Fresh Start

Nature abhors a power vacuum… Vox himself had sung those words once with Valentino… but he never thought Val would be the one to lose power in the Vee's.

But, somehow Lucifer had found out about Val licking Charlie's arm and, well… Val had to make a deal to save his own life. Unfortunately, that involved giving every single one of his soul contracts to someone else, and giving his own soul to Lucifer.

Now he was weak and powerless. Useless. Pathetic.

So… Vox and Velvette cast him out of the Vee's, ready to accept the one Lucifer gave Val's contracts to as the new member of their trio after only half a day. Leaving Val in the gutters with all his shit. He swore vengeance, but they didn't care. It'd take him a century to regain what he'd lost, and they'd just keep growing without him. The gap would just get larger and larger… He was fucked.

 

Angel was asked to the studio by Vox. Apparently whoever was taking Valentino's place wanted to meet with Angel in private before the rest of the employees of the studio. Angel paced around his dressing room nervously.

Would this new guy be just like Val? Would he be worse somehow?! Would he survive? No, scratch that one, he would survive. Whatever he had to do, he would survive. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Crap, show time. He took a deep breath. 

“Come in.” He looked into his mirror, keeping his eyes on himself to control his facial reactions. 

The door creaked open, and a familiar red smiling demon entered the room. When Angel saw who it was he turned quickly, “Al?! What are you doing here?” He smiled, glad to see someone he considered a friend. “The new overlord who's supposed to take over is showing up soon, did ya come to get a good look at them?”

 

Alastor laughed, “Oh, if I wanted a good look at them darling, I'd just take a peek in a mirror!” This made Angel's heart sink.

“Wh-what? Al, you're fucking with me.”

“I am most certainly not my dear, I don't fuck anyone!” He chuckled at his own joke, a laugh track coming from his microphone on his cane.

A sense of dread washed over Angel. Oh fuck.

“Yes, I was gifted this studio and the souls inside it by Lucifer himself, as a form of truce between him and I, I suppose. So, would you prefer I continue to call you Angel, or would Anthony be better for our new arrangement?”

 

“Angel, please. So… I guess I'm under your command now. What do you plan to do with me?” He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest in a self hug, not flirting with Alastor. Not this time.

Alastor's ear twitched and his head ever so slightly tilted, “What a wonderful question! But I have one of my own first… Do you.. fear me, Angel?”

He must have been imagining things, but he thought for a moment he looked and sounded… No, no stop that thought Angel. There's no way the radio demon actually cares, he's just another overlord, just trying to lower your guard.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn't I? You're the radio demon, a powerful overlord. And now you own me as long as I'm in this studio, like my contract says.” Angel kept his tone level and cold. He didn't want to push Al's buttons, but didn't want him to think he was ignorant to the situation he was in either. “So, again, what are you going to do with me?” His voice finally wavered, barely holding his act together. 

 

Alastor sighed and stepped closer to Angel, “Oh you poor darling… you think I'm going to be a monster like Valentino don't you? What sort of horrible things did he do to make you so… skittish? We've become rather close at the hotel, close enough I consider you a friend… yet here you are cowering in fear of me…” He gently placed a hand on Angel's cheek, only for him to flinch “Mon ami, I have a very important job for you here, one I can only entrust to you.”

“What kind of job?” Angel sounded warry, “Only things you know I'm good at are fucking and fighting.”

 

“I have less than no interest in this industry. So I would like to request you to run the studio in my stead. Under my name of course.” His smile felt… genuine for once. “I want you to manage the business. You know better than anyone what these performers need to flourish and thrive. How to treat them, and make everything safe, efficient, and profitable… I wouldn't know where to begin.” He still held Angel's cheek in his hand. “Will you accept my offer?”

 

Angel was in shock. “I… I would be honored to… W-wait, it sounds like I'd be doing all the work Val did, what are you gonna do then?!” He suddenly realized he was being delegated to do ALL THE HARD WORK!!

 

Alastor pulled back his hand and laughed, “There you are my dear! That look of frustration is much better on you than a look of fear.” 

Angel pouted and blushed, “Hey! Don't make fun of me Al! You come in here acting all cryptic and shit, of course I'm gonna be scared outta my fucking mind! I'm used to getting beat to crap and fucked in here, not told I'm being promoted to head honcho by a strawberry pimp.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, “Is that so? So you were expecting me to barge in here like some brute,” he grabbed Angel gently around the neck, “Manhandle you and assault you in every vile form?” He leaned in close, “That sounds about like what you had in mind?” He felt Angel's pulse quicken under his hold as he held his breath.

He pulled away slowly, “Sorry love, but that's not my style. I find bruises to be hideous. And I'm not terribly fond of those… other activities. Too sticky and wet.” 

Angel finally let himself breath again, “Fucking, damn it Al… You keep giving me mixed signals here, the fuck is wrong with you today?”

 

“Just testing out my new role as ‘Strawberry Pimp’, darling. I may not desire any of the things associated with this job, but I do enjoy the power and the new souls it grants me. As well as the money, not that I needed more of that. I might as well have fun with the role Lucifer forced on my shoulders.”

Angel rolled his eyes, “I see. So you're messing with me, to practice for messing with the others.”

Alastor's eyes sparkled, “I knew you'd catch on. Now, with your knowledge of the industry and my powers, help me craft this new persona and a new outfit for it. Hm, perhaps get you something more ‘business like’ as well, to represent your new position.”

 ~~~~~~~~~

They spent the rest of the afternoon together getting their outfits and story straight. Alastor would play the “lazy boss” and Angel would be his “beloved assistant”. Alastor almost sat on the couch in Angel's dressing room, until he caught a whiff of the scent of Valentino's smoke lingering on it.

 

“Ugh, are you terribly attached to this couch? Or any of the furniture in here really? I feel the whole place should be fumigated and aired out.” 

Angel shrugged, “Light it on fire for all I care, if you're gonna play pimp, get me a new one.”

“So bossy…” Alastor huffed, then snapped his fingers before lighting the disgusting couch on fire. “Hm, I'll have new furniture put in tomorrow, in the meantime, you can share my office. I already aired it out and had it set up to my tastes.” 

 

“You're sharing your space? Damn, what'd I do to get on your good side?” Angel smiled.

“Well, if we are to make everyone think you're my precious pet, the illusion of familiarity would be beneficial.” He turned away and opened the door, the couch done burning. “Now come along, there is so much more work to be done…”