#maybe one day ill take Better pictures. until then

[alternativeprojectdraws]

Figures

[sunsetsimon]

a couple of dad!simon headcanons ♡

- hello! i'm sun, and this is my new writing account! i haven't written properly in years, so please go easy on me!

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

☼ simon never imagined having a family of his own. even after the first few years of being together, the thought never crossed his mind. until your best friend had a baby...

your best friend was visiting with her newborn and seeing you holding the baby flipped a switch in his head. you smiled and cooed at him, causing the baby to flash a toothless smile. there was a twinkle in your eye that he hadn’t noticed before and he pictured you glowing so beautifully as you held your own daughter, a mini version of you and him all in one. he didn’t bring it up for weeks as he thought it through himself. was having a family even possible for him? was he just being selfish?

☼ it comes up one day after you notice he’d been unusually quiet while spending time together. he wasn’t the most talkative, but he enjoyed conversations with you, even joking here and there.

“is everything okay, si? you’ve been extra quiet today.”

“hmm, yeah. just been zoning off.” he shrugs, unsure how to approach the subject. he knows you would listen but he doesn’t know how he’d react if your answer was no.

deciding rejection is better than never knowing, he sharply inhales, “have you ever thought about having children?”

the question throws you off, certainly random for a guy who doesn’t speak much of the future. you sit for a second debating your answer, and simon’s chest clenches in anxious anticipation.

“i have a few times, nothing too serious though. it never seems like there’s a good time for us.”

he nods in agreement, “been thinking about it these days. maybe it’s something we can consider.”

☼ needless to say, you both decide after many conversations and more time, that expanding your family is something you’re open to. you stop your contraception soon after and begin trying. he becomes even more attentive, constantly checking in with you and doing plenty of research on how to make your pregnancy easy. he gets you anything you want - whenever you want. and back and foot massages become part of your everyday routine.

☼ recognizes that he won't always be around because of his extremely demanding work. he checks in whenever he can, even writing letters if he has to. it breaks his heart having to miss doctor appointments and weekly milestones with you, but you always know he tries his absolute best for you two.

☼ simon loves skin to skin contact for the first few months. he loves to lay with her against his chest and drift off to the tv while you take a quick shower. he finds himself just watching her a lot, trying to memorize every movement her tiny body makes.

☼ soooo protective. no kisses, no pets, no sick people, doesn’t allow anything that could be of risk near her. he always has the two of you in his sight, preferring to push the stroller as you walk on the side of him.

☼ he's not one to care for style, so you do the main planning for the nursery. he builds all of the furniture for you while you watch. he looks so hot in his grey sweats and a black t-shirt that you can't help but distract him a few times.

☼ it's a hard adjustment for him having to return for a mission after she's born. he spends his entire last day holding and watching her, a sad slouch in his shoulders.

"gonna miss you so much, darlin. i'll be back as soon as i can," he whispers, gently kissing her forehead before handing her back to you. simon's hands grip your waist, pulling you in close to kiss you deeply before resting his forehead against yours. "i need my girls to stay safe. ill update you when i can, dove."

whenever he can, he scrolls though his videos on his phone just to see her face. her eyes twinkle brighter than any star to him and a slight smile creeps under his mask.

☼ relieves you from baby care when he can tell you’re exhausted. sighing and pulling yourself out of bed when crying erupts through the baby monitor. he doesn’t get up at first, but when the crying continues for a minute, he comes to check on you. he pushes the door cracked door open, revealing you desperately hushing and bouncing her in your arms. your eyes are tired and heavy, wishing for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

“i got ‘er. go back to bed love,” simon says, taking his baby girl into his arms.

you give him a weak smile and a thankful squeeze at his arm, walking straight to bed without another peep. he holds her close to his chest as he sits down in the chair, propping her neck up as he stares down at her. her eye color matches his, but she resembles you more and more everyday. he’s enamored by her, his beautiful little girl that he created with the love of his life.

she quiets down shortly, falling back asleep in his arms as he rocks her slowly. his own eyes grow heavy, and he sets her down in her crib before returning back to bed. he climbs in behind you, pulling your back to his chest and planting a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“if she wakes up again i’ll take care of it. you just sleep darling,” simon whispers, receiving a hum in response from you as you snuggle into him.

he takes care of his girls so well.

[thegnomelord]

Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.

I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.

Once again good soup!

Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Hug from behind

CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.

Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.

Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.

You're not even sure when or why it had started.

It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.

None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.

Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.

Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.

You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.

Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.

You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"

You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.

"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.

Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.

It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.

Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.

It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).

Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.

"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.

"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.

"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.

Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.

You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.

You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.

"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.

And, Hell, Graves gets it now.

He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.

And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.

"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.

"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.

"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"

You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.

"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."

"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."

He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.

"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.

The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"

[ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog]

Mine- Carrington

summary: you tell your friends that you and your boy best friend are just friends. but that will change soon…

“should i wear the red or the blue bikini, y/n?” your best friend tara yells down from upstairs. you guys stayed the night at jake, johnnie, and carrington’s house because they were throwing a fourth of july party the next day.

“um, go with the red it’ll look good with your hair!” you yell back.

you would’ve given a better response, but you were busy texting your best friend, carrington.

you were close with jake and johnnie, and loved their friendship, but carrington was your best friend for life. you guys would text everyday, send pictures of your outfits of the day, and literally were always on facetime.

tara ran downstairs in her outfit as you walked upstairs to get changed.

you slide on your bikini bottoms as you hear lip gloss by lil mama play-your ringtone.

“y/n! your phone’s ringing, it’s carrington!” tara yells while putting on extra mascara.

you practically run down the stairs to get your phone and answer it before it rings out.

“heyyy!” carrington says. him and jake were in the middle of costco picking up alcohol and jello packets for the party later.

“heyy!” you reply.

“what are you wearing to the party, y/n?” carrington asks.

you move your camera up a little to show him your navy blue string bikini. he stares at you blankly, speechless. “you look great!” he says.

“thank you! i have to go set up the keg, but ill call you back if i can!” you say goodbye to him as you hang up, going to get the keg barrel.

you haven’t told anybody but johnnie and tara this, but you have a BIG crush on carrington. the way his blue eyes look at you and the way his curly hair bounces when he laughs hard, you just find him so attractive.

sometimes, you think he likes you too, but you tell yourself that he doesn’t, so you don’t get your hopes up.

you distract yourself from the thought, going back to assembling the beer keg as tara hands you the pieces as johnnie watches lazily.

“y’know y/n, you should go for carrington. he so likes you.” johnnie says breaking the silence.

“nah, i know he doesn’t.” you reply shaking your head.

“he does, he told me.” tara interrupts your racing thoughts.

you guys ramble on about carrington like teenage girls until carrington and jake arrive home with bulk boxes of tequila, beer, and jello packets.

…………………………………………………………………………………

madness is the only way to describe the house right now. there are over 200 people in jake webbers house and backyard and you’re 3 drinks in, stumbling around the backyard.

“jake, do you even know half the people here?” you ask.

“eh not really. most of them are johnnie or tara’s friends.” he says, then he elbow bumps you while walking over to talk to nick sturniolo and larray.

“hey!” you hear a voice from behind you say, one that you recognize almost immediately.

“carrington!” you exclaim. he wraps you up in a friendly hug. you inhale his scent, his valentino cologne mixed with costco tequila.

“can we go over here to talk, it’s kinda busy right here.” he says, nodding to the pool area.

you nod as you guys walk over there, talking about life.

you guys ramble on about different movies, restaurants, and you guy’s shared love for the vampire diaries.

“hey, y/n, you looked really pretty today.” carrington says. you blush so hard, looking him into his blue, icy eyes. “you look pretty too.” you reply.

“why don’t we go inside, maybe get some pizza, and a coke?” carrington suggests. you’re starving, so you nod and he holds your hand, guiding you into the house.

“this pizza is good, where did you get it?” you ask him.

“costco!” carrington exclaims, wiping a little bit of sauce off of your chin. you giggle and blush in return.

“hey, can i take you somewhere?” carrington asks.

“of course, carrington.” you reply.

he guides you up the stairs, leading you to his room. his room looks just like you imagined it. a plush bed with colorful posters on the wall, as well as pictures of him, jake and johnnie framed on his nightstand.

“your room is nice!” you say.

carrington fails to respond as he looks you in your eyes, a glow radiating off of him as he looks at you.

“y’know y/n, i’ve been keeping a secret from you, but i’m gonna tell you now. i think your the most beautiful girl in the world. i’ve liked you for a while, i’ve just been scared to say anything. and i know it just sounds like something i would say while i was drunk, but i’ve only had like one drink. i love you y/n.” carrington says.

he looks into your eyes, searching for an answer. you try to reply but can’t form words, you’re just so happy.

“i feel the same way about you, carrington, well besides the girl part.” you both giggle as he grabs your hand, rubbing little circles around your hand with his thumb.

you lock eyes with him, as he leans in softly and places a soft, passionate kiss on your lips. you lean into him more, elongating the kiss.

his tongue presses against your bottom lip, waiting for entry into your mouth. you guys’ tongues bump against each other occasionally, and you feel a smile forming on his lips.

you finally pull apart, smiling at him.

“so, y/n, can i take you to dinner tomorrow night?” he asks you politely.

“yes, of course you can!” you reply.

[togamest]

I tried looking in your rules for if you have a limit on the number of characters that can be requested, but I couldn’t find anything:( so please limit it to your preferences!

May I request your headcanons on how you think wind breaker boys (sakura/suo/nirei/sugishita/hiragi/umemiya/togame/choji/etc) on who would or wouldn’t secretly peek under their crush’s(maybe girlfriend) skirt when walking behind them up the stairs if they know they could get away with it. Just as curious teenage boys who just… peek.

sometimes I think it’s cute to tease the guys I’m talking to and might sway a little on purpose …hehe

-> just one look, yeah? | 549 words. gn!reader, suggestive themes, panty stealing, little yandere themes if you squint, implied penetrative protected sex, everyone is aged up to 19+.

author’s notes: thanks nonnie! — for the record i don’t have a set limit, but i’ll write for as many chars as i list in my request rules! i opted for a grouping as i feel like there’s three ways this can go…you’re either embarrassed, you’re neutral, or you’re Gross about it (in the fondest way possible fbdhfbs). i also aged everyone up to 18+ since you did mention teenagers, but i didn’t feel comfortable writing about high schoolers specifically given my ol' age. hope you enjoy!

Firstly, there’s the shy boys. They’re the ones who get embarrassed from even trying to look, blush spiraling up to the tips of their ears as they quickly look away. You are, of course, completely oblivious to what just happened, and carry on with your day; but they can’t help but look, you know? It’s just a look, nothing more! They wouldn’t actually do anything about it…until you finally catch on to them walking behind you, and you get a full-on look that is clearly not aimed at anywhere else but the swell of your ass. They’re immediately apologetic, especially watching you fume at them in anger, having shown that they’re no better than some of the other degenerates at the school. Although…then, you start teasing them, wearing shorter skirts and picking scantier underwear just to see their reaction. They’re pathetic about it, whimpering that you’re just so irresistible and that you look so good in that color as you shove them into the janitor’s closet, intending on solving this issue once and for all.

— Sakura, Nirei

Next, there’s the neutral boys. They look, sure, but there’s no ill will behind it. They don’t remark on it, and don’t pay much attention to you until you start messing around with them. Because you’ve noticed, you’ve seen them looking but not long enough to where you think they’re being weird about it. They hide it well, well enough where you don’t immediately say or do anything about it. Instead, it’s a game for you and for them, seeing how much ogling they can get away with and how much less clothing you can wear before they finally snap and do something about it. It takes a while, but there’s a point where you wear nothing and they just can’t take it anymore. They’ll bend you over a desk after class, or go up to the roof and fuck your brains out just to blow off the tension and steam. After you’re done, they’re still relatively neutral about it; but you know, as soon as you wear something raunchy, it’s their weakness.

— Hiragi, Umemiya, Sugishita

Then, you have the raunchy boys. These are the boys who fully own the fact they’re looking, even going as far as to lift up your skirt themselves to get a better look, or take pictures and have photo albums of all the different underwear you own. They like it, they like seeing how embarrassed you are, scolding them over doing something so weird. You’ll get texts from them late at night with that day’s wide-lens photo of your underwear taking up your screen, and you can’t help but clench your thighs as they tell you how much they’d love to tear that pretty fabric right off of you. They get descriptive, too; and it becomes one of those things where you put up a fight in the beginning, but having someone with such dominion over you with something as simple as underwear makes you shudder. They also love stealing your underwear, too, jacking off with it around their cocks or holding it up to their nose. They love smelling you and your essence, and if you don’t know they’ve gone that far, what you don’t know won’t kill you…right?

— Togame, Choji, Suou

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[mosaickiwi]

yoohoo!!! @nabi004 and @mialuna4 and that one anon!!! sick angel request!!! many thanks for the love <3

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~A Sick Angel~

“Can you please—”

“No.”

The past few minutes had been like talking to a brick wall. [REDACTED] hadn't let you move an inch from the bed since you’d woken up in an agonizing daze.

Sure, you felt like complete shit, maybe a little on the side of a fever. And the moment you sat up you wanted to scream. But it was manageable. If you tried, you'd be able to make it through a day at the library. 

Blue eyes quickly narrowed, as if they knew exactly what you were thinking. It was frustrating how stubborn they could be when he wanted to.

You attempted to frown at your companion. Nothing really changed about your haggard expression—thanks to your face and entire body feeling like dead weight—but your tone worked well enough. “I need to go to work today.”

“Not happening,” he insisted as he reached up to your forehead.

You closed your eyes for just a second. His cold palm against your brow was too heavenly to ignore. “I don't want to let Elanor down. Today's really important for her,” you croaked.

They didn't bother to hide the momentary disgust in their tone at the mention of your coworker. “She wouldn't want y’working either, Angel.” As if to prove his point, they tapped away on your phone. He'd been holding it hostage behind his back. 

Only a minute later, it dinged with a response and he finally held it out to you. Elanor had sent a polite and elaborate text as always. You read through it while he continued to run both of their cold hands over your heated face like two makeshift ice packs.

Good morning, [REDACTED]. At least I assume so from how brief that message was? Thank you for letting me know Y/N is ill! I'm sure they must be worried about missing today's event but we can handle it just fine! And I’m happy to take some pictures for them! Please take good care of them and give my well wishes. Regards, Elanor.

You raised an eyebrow and scrolled back up to the paltry message he'd sent her.

sick no work

Somehow, it was probably the nicest thing they'd ever managed to send any of your friends. You looked back up at him with what was meant to be a pout. “Okay then.”

With instant trust in your word, he stood up to leave the room. He soon returned with his arms full. A cold compress, medicine, some drinks, and anything else they thought you might need. You lightly rolled your neck and resigned to your fate as a patient when he sat next to you. The medicine and drink he offered were swallowed without fuss on your part, then you laid down. The throbbing pain already seemed to calm as you did.

The compress stayed at his side instead of being placed on your forehead like you thought. You felt their hand on your cheek yet again, a more noticeable chill to his rough skin this time.

“Just in case it feels too cold f’you,” he explained before you even asked.

It felt perfect, so you didn't mind at all. You practically purred in relief at the gentle circles they rubbed. You tiredly looked up to him as you complained, if only to tease them, “I'm a little disappointed you didn't bring out the nurse outfit.”

“‘Course you are.” His eyes lit up with mischief, a knowing smile cut across his lips to match your playful one. “I'll make it up t’you when y'feel better, yeah?” Their thumb slowly traced back and forth from one corner of your mouth to the other.

“Germs, you weirdo,” you reminded him. Though you didn't bother to shake off his hand, weak as you were. “You’ll get sick.”

“Y’worried about me, love? Cute. But I promise ‘M not gonna catch whatever you have that easy.” They leaned down to kiss your flushed temple, eventually settling propped up on one arm to lay as close as possible beside you. Faintly warm breath tickled the top of your head until you drifted back to sleep under their watchful gaze.

[lady-ashfade]

Say it.

Yandere targaryen house x darling reader. Oneshot

Plot: After long years go by of not seeing your obsessive family you get a letter informing you of your nephews title, knowing you had to go to kingslanding right away. You stand for once side- The other doesn’t like it.

Notes: You can picture yourself as this reader, because you came into their world the same way by Alicent and Viserys adopting you. 

Taglist: @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @second-try-stevie @a-dorkier-book-keeper @rosaryos @girl-with-an-orange-cat @prettyinblack231

Words: 1586

Warnings: Blood, the scene of vaemon dying, swearing, yandere tendencies, kinda hate this but it’s what ever-

The targaryen family grew more broken then it had been when you left on your own adventure, you needed to find yourself and become a young woman that you wanted to be. You had left a year after Laenas funeral and laenors death, you had missed them all deeply. You hadn’t planned coming home until another year but when you reserved a letter from your older sister saying your nephew’s title was being questioned you had to be there.

You knew of the rivalry they had with one another, you tried to forget and make them work together but you grew to realize that you being in the mix didn’t help. Both sides wanted you to pick them and maybe that’s a part of why you left? You couldn’t say really but you had heard of a place far beyond of what anyone has gone, some say it was a place of wanders, some say it was the edge of the world. Either way you wanted to go.

The castle was empty when you arrived which told you the hearing has already begun to start and of course no one knew you where coming. You had no time to send a letter but you also wanted to be a surprise. You heard of your fathers illness and would send letters and small things you had hoped to make him feel better. But some part of you just couldn’t take seeing him the way they describe him.

You missed the halls you walked in now, remembering your childhood spent here was a good time. Kingsland did seem different then you remember and not as light and happy as it once’s was. You got close to the throne room and heard walking from the other side, the guards looked at you and their eyes showed surprise. You smiled as they began to open the doors and excitement but panicked flooded through you.

“A proposal which I heartily agree.” You saw rhaenys standing in front of everyone finishing her speech that you didn’t hear. You saw rhaenrya and her children and daemon on one side. And across you saw your mother and your siblings and grandsir and finally your beloved father sitting on the throne.

“Princess Y/n Targaryen, Warrior of Bellcrest.” They announced you and everyone at court turn their heads and saw you, everyone’s eyes wide and gasps filled the room. You begin to walk and rest your hand on your sword and glance to see your family’s expressions. Everyone looked shocked to see you, they wanted to run to you and hold you tight but this wasn’t the time.

“My dear girl.” Your father called out and you smiled walking up the steps to where he sat and bowed your head. “Hello my king.” He reached out a hand for you to come forward and you did placing a kiss on the top of his head as he softly patted you. They all watched you with dark eyes wondering what you would do next and why you were here. Rhaenrya knew why you were here and she asked herself if Alicent had sent you a letter to. You walked back down and in between your family, you tried to not focus on it but it felt like you were a sheep in a wolfs den.

“Speak your mind dear girl.” His words so breathy you wonder how forced it was. Nodded you head you start to speak, “I have heard that Lucerys Velaryon, my nephew has been put to question. I also wander way it is being heard, but I shall speak my mind as clear as day.” Fixing your posture you took a deep breath.

“I support his claim. I have no doubt that he will make a great lord of driftmark one day and I have come to swear my sword to him.” Pulling out your sword carefully and turn to him and bow. “That I swear to my father, king Viserys, and to future queen rhaenrya of the seven kingdoms, by the old gods and the new. That I swear myself to them.” You kept your eyes on the floor.

Luke looked down at you with wide eyes, rhaenrya smirked and glanced at Alicent who burned her teary eyes into the back of your head. How dare you stand on their side? Swear yourself to a bastard- You were her daughter and you should be standing with her. But she quickly pushed the blame onto everyone else but you. Maybe you didn’t know that Alicent had other plans, maybe you just wanted to keep a war from happening. It was all rhaenryas fault.

Viserys smiled at you and how happy he was to have his family back as a whole. “Well then the mattter is settled, again. I here by reaffirm prince lucaerys of house velaryon as heir to driftmark and the driftwood throne. And the next lord of the tides.” You got up and saw them smile at you, they looked thankful to you. You wanted to go over to your mothers side but you had to stand for them, so you walked next to lucaerys and took his arm in yours.

Your eyes met your mothers teary ones and your heart broke so you offered her a smile to make her feel better. She did the same and you looked over to your other siblings and aemond was staring at you already with a hardened expression. You knew of how cold he grew but this was different. Rhaenys walked back to her spot and then room was quiet for a minute and you could hear the kings breaths.

“You break law,” vaemond started to speck “And centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. But you dare tell me who deserves to inherent the name Velaryon?” He takes a breath. You watch him closely, “No. I will not allow it.” He whispered and you watch Viserys tilt his head in question. “Allow it? Do not forget yourself vaemond.” He stated and you watched closely as vaemon turned around and pointed a finger at Lucerys.

“That!” He shouted and everyone tensed you included, and your grip on lukes arm tightness. “Is no true velaryon.” Rolling your eyes at the man you once called family and a man you used to look up to. “And certainly no nephew of mine.” Rhaenrya pushed Luke behind her arm and you too. “Go to your chambers.” She looked at Luke and you stepped in front of him and beside rhaenrya. 

“You have said enough.” You backed her up and she glanced at you thankfully. “Lucaerys is my true born grandson. And you no more then the second son of driftmark.” Seeing you protecting Luke knowing you could come into harms way made Alicent want to call this whole thing off. Because if it met you getting hurt then she doesn’t want it to happen.

“You may run your house as you see fit. But you will not decide the future of mine.” He took another pause trying to compose himself. “My house survived the doom. And a thousand tribulations besides.” He turned his head around again and looked at Luke, “And I will not see it ended by account of this-” he stopped himself from saying anything else and you knew what he was going to say. Everyone did.

“Say it.” Daemon whispered.

Vaemond looked at rhaenrya with a slight smirk. “Her sons are bastards!” He screamed and everyone’s faces hardeneds or go wide in shock that he actually said it. Your hands goes to your sword handle and grabbed it tightly enough your hand starts to hurt. “And she is a whore.” He faced back to look Viserys dead in the face. You moved your jaw in anger and watched as your father struggles and stands up taking out it blade.

“I will have your tongue for that.”

Your sword sliced vaemonds head just after Viserys finishes his words, daemon who stood next to you looked down at him with a smirk. “He can keep his tongue.” Daemon said and turned to looked at you and placed a hand on your shoulder to offer you a cloth to clean the blood off. “Unarm them.” The knights rush over and pull out their swords. You and daemon didn’t look bothered but your mother screamed and rushed over to you and shielded you with her arms.

“No need.” You both sheathed swords. You looked at your mother and kissed her cheek and walked away from her with daemon out of the throne room. They all watched you leave. Alicent wanted to scream but she had to rush over to Viserys as he started to fall over and rhaenrya followed.

Aemond watched you amused and his love depends for you, he used to have a crush on you but now he was unbelievably obsessed with you. He glanced at Luke when you were out of sight and saw the boy smirking at him at what you just did for him- You swore yourself to him and he knew it would get under their skins. You chose his side.

But the greens knew that they would just win you back over some how- I mean they had no one to marry off and Aemond was still unbetrothed. And if that didn’t work then they would still find something. Everyone wanted you to themselves and if it means to start a war to get you? Then so be it.

They’ll start a fucking war.

[hisfavkayla]

Patient my dear || pt. 1 Jonathan Crane🎀

Summary : your crane’s special patient and he treats you like his princess!

Authors note : enjoy my little psychos

Warnings : fluff, age gap (18 and 35 ) , mental illness, sweetheart!crane , mentions of self harm, that’s all <:💕

It all started when I was 14–shortly after my mom died tragically, I began to experience signs of schizophrenia and insanity!

I would try to hurt myself and others, and even bit our maid’s left pinky off! I was truly psychotic. My widowed father didn’t know how to handle loosing his wife and me going crazy, so he helped me get accepted into Arkham— which wasn’t that hard!

Anyways—when I got there I met Dr. Jonathan Crane, who I grew fond of very early and he grew fond of me too. At first he felt like another father figure to me and he even cured me ( well I think so but I’m still here) It wasn’t until I was 16 when I started to think that he had a soft spot for me.

Who knows? Maybe he does !

~~~

I look up at the clock on my room’s wall, Crane was on the way to see me . He usually would bring me a little snack and us go on a little walk since I have “special privileges “ but that doesn’t mean I can get out of here.

I look down at my am, the bruise from my iv sticking out like a sore thumb. I hated getting my blood drawn, but Dr. Crane made it better. While he would draw my blood, he would rub my head making the headaches feel normal.

Clash!

I heard a door swing open opening to my hallway. I was on the left wing of the asylum— the calm side of the building, where not so violent patients stayed.

Beep! Beep! Bloop!

I whipped around to face Dr. Crane coming in my room carrying a small bag of chocolate cookies and a clipboard. “ Here Y/n“ he grinned as he tossed me the cookies and scooted up a chair to my bed ,” How is your day going?”

I opened the cookies and bit down on one , the chocolate leaving a stain on the corner of my mouth, “ Good , I painted a picture today”, I blushed wiping away the chocolate.

Jonathan looked at me fully focused with his head titled . His stormy blue , deep set eyes made me want to melt away in a sea of dreams. His soft— but sharp high cheekbones reminded me of a porslin doll. He was an Angel.

“Would you like to see it?” I asked, he nodded . I pulled the paper out of a little brown drawer and handed it to Crane. He looked over it , scanning his hand over the victorian landscape.

“Atta girl”, he pats the back of my white pj top lightly, “ This is truly beautiful y/n , just like you “

I blush so hard, I could see the heat radiating off my cheeks, “ Thanks “, I returned the painting to the drawer, “ So why’d you come by ?”

He clears his throat and schisms through his clipboard, “ To deliver some terrific news for you “, he grins taking off his glasses and pushing my hair behind my ear , “ Your free Y/n , your completely cured and can be released anytime you please “

Tears weld up in my eyes from the overwhelming news. I’m overjoyed but at the same time , a hasty thought pops in my brain, “ But Jonathan— I don't know how to live for myself . I’ve spend all my developing adolescent years in here . What do I do?!”

I gag on my warm tears as they fall from my eyes down to my lips . I knew nothing of the world and the way it worked. I was hopeless …

Jonathan wrapped his arms around me , cradling my limp self like a newborn, “ It’s ok Y/n … you can stay with me if you like “ his ocean eyes stair in my soul as I shake my head , “ I would love to Crane”

[ideas-scattered-dreams]

/ / silence? anger.

fandoms: genshin impact AU: SAGAU player au?

imagine that... You were just minding your own business and playing genshin as you always do when u have free time. you always do farming, collecting, taking pictures of your characters, doing quest as the usual. You hummed being satisfied of your works, you ran up in hills and killing some hiluchurls with your characters of choice. you were a silent player playing this game, like most games u play always being silent and if needed to talk you would. you never really need a reason to talk, what would the character do? reply? that's laughable. Though, the thought of the characters replying is nice, as you can have a conversation with someone your familiar with and don't need to be uncomfortable with each other... you smiled and chuckled at your own delusion, a character wouldn't be programmed do so here, but u don't mind to think of that way.

The character u control is enjoying your presence and your elegant face in the skies. they don't mind being used for your own gain or just to have fun in general. though they wish to hear your voice rather than a sigh and a hum. they have seen a lot of your emotions that are visible on your face but not once voiced it out... until now ofc. 🌙━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━⭐ You were currently doing a quest that involves... ill abort or albert. you HATED that guy with pure sin and anger, u couldn't stand to be around him, you would glare and just avoid him at all cause, especially when u use barbara (or main her), but i guess this was your unlucky day, you had to interact with him. You saw him behind the cathedral... again. agh you knew why he is there but u cant program him to just leave and jump off a bridge to the water,' now what does he want..' you approach him hesitantly just moving your character slowly, like micro slow. agh... When u got close to him u couldn't stand him. like omg he ugly asf, you wish u could actually kill him with your character right now... you grumble and had a frown adored about your face, teyvats skies grew gray and winds grew harsh... the citizens wonder why u are angry and upset.. they couldn't have that right? if you were angry at someone, they should be disposed off quickly... the character u are using glared daggers at abort or albert for making you upset, this man just had to anger their grace with his presence.. before abort finishes his first sentence, you beat boxed that bitch hard. "stfu u looking like that one father that cheated their wife with a fuckin maid and still say your sorry even when u got her pregnant, what's up with you goofy ah outfit? bro looks like a a fuckin cabbage that your hair complements lookin like mayonnaise and what is with your posture? man even madame ping and the other granny grandpas has better back sides, you look like a whole ah gorilla, what's with the hair? did u dye it yourself bc u want to fit in the blonde air way? you look like bakugo madapaking katsuki Walmart version, bro i see others lookin like u in this game but you be the WORST one, bro looks like dottores failed experiment that lived a day to tell the tale. are u fucking jobless to stay here and fucking stalk our sweet deaconess barbara? i aint even surprised by you being jobless, bro i'd be surprise if your not homeless. bro thought he was albert Einstein but bro is just a weirdo stalking mf don't even stare at me with those fucking eyes i wish to PLUCK OUTTTT... "

You panted from that long speech and walked away from him, not looking back to see his shocked face and a group of acolytes behind him including Jean looking angered and disgusted. You were to upset to do your routine with your character for now as u are tired from yelling at abort... maybe u will ignore his quest and do another later.. you sat them down on one of the cathedral seats outside and planted a kiss on your finger and placed the kissed finger to your characters lips and exited.

After you left, teyvats skies thundered infront of abort, the characters you used has their weapons out ready to murder the fuck out of abort.. i mean.. you wont notice if he is gone right your grace? 🌙━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━⭐ the next time you logged in the game, you dont see abort anymore, like he just.. didnt exist in the first place... but who are u to question? good radiance he is gone, this made your mood happy and hum. this isnt a dream right? this feels 100% real, hah. what a nice reality.

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags <3

@wayardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @signrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Dean <;3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @chaospossum @nachofriess

Sam <3 (not including the tags already above :) ) @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty

[toxicanonymity]

Brothel - Dicks

The brothel, aka real housecreeps, is a meta reality show about the Joels and other blorbos. Normally everything is smooth sailing, but we mostly air the drama.

Collect calls SPOILERS

brothel master list

Oh no, a producer leaked a copy of the dick HCs and raider Joel just sent me a dick pic with a ruler for scale, claiming I shorted him. I stared at it for a good 60 seconds, then left him on read. Now someone's knocking at my bedroom door. I ignore it and respond to the pic instead. "Sorry 😬"

Raider, muffled outside my door: Think ya might need a better look. (I don't answer) Can I at least talk to ya?

I put on my robe, begrudgingly let him in, and try not to look at the bulge in his tactical jeggings.

Raider: Production told me to take it up with you.

Me: Tell me you didn't send pictures to production. (Raider is silent.) That's sexual harassment. God damnit, in the middle of your PR tour?

Raider hangs his head and seems sorry until he unzips his tactical jeggings and that's the only reason he was looking down. I'm tempted to make him jack off just because, but I shake my head no.

Raider: Be a good girl for me and it'll be over quick.

Me: are you regressing back to March over this? Don't talk to me like a reader, and don't come in here taking your dick out.

Raider nods solemnly, and I sheepishly add under my breath, "unless I tell you to." The toilet flushes and I nervously look toward the bathroom.

Trouble walks out, fully dressed, buttoning his shirt.

Trouble, to Raider: Didn't I tell you to leave this shit alone, man?

Raider: Pool house, huh? You live in the pool house?

Raider sticks his head into the bathroom and sees there's a big, lavish bedroom connected on the other side and the bed is made. Trouble mouths to me, 'want him to leave?' and I shrug like Idk what to do.

Raider: Can you give us a minute, man?

Trouble: I think you should leave, Raid. I get you're upset but don't bust up in here at 6 in the morning.

Me: Neither of you are leaving.

I put Trouble in the cuck chair, Raider sits on the bed, and I sit down at the vanity to finish talking to him. His pants are still open but I'm not looking.

Me (attempting to be comforting) Hey, anything more than 7" is a waste anyway.

Trouble (7") nods.

Raider: this ain't about sweet pea.

Trouble: that's your issue, man.

Me, to Raider: You're the biggest one either way, why're you pitching a fit over less than a centimeter?

Raider and Trouble look at each other. Trouble shakes his head at Raider like, don't say it.

Raider: We know about him.

Oh, shit. Trouble sighs. I play stupid.

Me: you know about who?

Raider: Jojo.

Me: He doesnt have an HC.

Raider: He has a bulge.

Me: I haven't even seen his dick.

Raider: You've seen his dick print.

Me: How do you--

Raider: All I'm askin' for is accuracy, that's it. Ill do ya a dick print if ya want.

Me: Lemme talk to my dick consultant (@jazziepascal ).

Raider: What'd I do? I used to be your emotional support Joel. Your mental health Joel.

I realize maybe he could've helped me through this month if I spent more time with him.

Me: You still are, c'mere.

I open my arms for a hug. We embrace, but his dick is still hard so it's awkward. After the hug, Trouble is making a face like he wouldnt mind being cucked, but I clear my throat , adjust my robe, and dismiss both of them.

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

Later that day, the men gather in the kitchen. They're huddled around the table and you can't see Night Walks, but they're all talking to him. You can see balled up pieces of paper on the floor and and on the counter there's an open ream of printer paper and an open tub of vasoline.

Thighs Out: I think you've gotta really slap it down.

(loud smack)

Thighs Out: There ya go. Your turn, slasher.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Yoshikage Kira x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I'd be lying if I said American Psycho didn't inspire bits of this fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Against his better judgment Kira takes you up on your offer to grab some dinner after work. [ WORD COUNT ] 3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, POV switching (though most of it is written from Kira's POV), he is so goddamn mentally ill, y/n is crushing hard, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, handjob, murder, angst without a happy ending.

Yoshikage Kira never intended to go out to dinner with you. He was already fantasizing about a quiet evening at home as he finished up his work. He could picture it so clearly: sitting at his dinner table eating leftovers from the night before, eventually making his way to the couch to watch mindless television until the early stages of slumber enveloped him, then he would drink a warm glass of milk and do some light stretches before snuggling up under his freshly washed linen sheets, sleeping soundly until morning came.

But for reasons unknown to him, he felt compelled to take you up on your offer. Maybe it was how you walked by his desk six times before getting the courage to actually speak to him. Or maybe it was your feeble attempt at acting nonchalant about it and how cute it was when your desperation trickled through.

“I haven’t had the chance to try shabu-shabu since I moved here and I cannot be seen doing it alone. Think of what that’ll do to my ego.”

He chuckled even though he didn’t find your comment particularly funny. “Find a time when no one is around and go. Then no one will see you.”

“But I’ll know I’m alone. Like, I’ll have to live with that memory for the rest of my life.”

“What if the food is so good you forget about that part?”

“Kira,” you whined. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t; I have to return some library books. Why not ask someone else?” He leaned back in his chair, trying to see who was still toiling away in the office. “Ah, Natsumi would be a good choice. I bet she eats food.”

You attempted to quiet your laughter with your hands which annoyed him to no end. Who were you to put yourself on display in such a manner?

“I barely talk to her,” you finally said after reeling in your laughter.

“I don’t know what to tell you then. Maybe another night,” he suggested though he hoped you’d never follow up.

“I’ll pay! Please?”

He sighed, denying a cute thing like you was too cruel. “Will you have me home before 8?”

You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. “Of course I will,” you replied, your tone comically serious. “You can count on me.”

He brushed your hand off of him while making note of how gentle your touch had been. Your hands were a sight to behold, just looking at them made all his blood flow straight to his cock. He crossed his legs and smiled sweetly, trying to maintain a veil of normalcy.

Kira knew he would be testing himself by going on a social outing with you. But it wasn’t as if he was an amateur. There had been plenty of times he didn’t let his urges get the better of him, even when presented with the perfect opportunity to indulge. He was more than capable of exercising self restraint. Besides you were his coworker. Killing you was far too risky. That in itself was enough of a deterrent.

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” He asked.

You nodded. “There’s a place not too far from here. It’s a few blocks down.”

“Have you heard good things about it?”

“No, terrible things. A guy got food poisoning and died in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. They say his ghost haunts the restaurant to this very day with his dick hanging out.”

“Oh I love that,” Kira said quietly as he shut down his computer.

“Thought you would.”

He cleared his throat and looked up from his monitor. “I’ll meet you out front. I need to take care of a few things before we leave.”

You nodded and strolled off, unaware of the mental anguish that plagued him. Kira glanced down at his lap, watching as his cock fought against the fabric of his pants. He slowly got up, careful to obscure his erection with his quivering hands. Dizzy and humiliated, he skulked into the bathroom and quickly relieved himself. As he squeezed the shaft of his cock he fantasized about how your disembodied hand would feel stroking his tender flesh.

“Stop it,” he mumbled, hoping verbalizing his morality would make it appear.

Misery enveloped Kira as he washed his hands. He was careful to not look in the mirror, unable to bear the sight of himself. He breathed deeply as he unlocked the bathroom door, pulling it open only to be greeted by your expectant presence.

“I felt weird standing around in the lobby.”

He couldn’t follow your logic, but your earnest demeanor was precious so he didn’t think too hard about it.

“Great,” he choked out.

There was a sense of relief once the two of you were out in the world, away from the office. The air seemed lighter, the lights not so blinding and unforgiving. He was at ease as he walked beside you, your hands brushing up against his on occasion. Your disruption was more harmonious than he previously surmised. It was wrong to assume you were a woman of strife and discord. You were more benign than that. You were like petting a kitten that had been napping in a puddle of sunlight. Your presence carried the weight of a reassuring hug. He wanted to melt in your arms and drown in your sweetness.

Everything was painted in a blushy-orange hue as the sun slowly set. It gave your face an angelic quality as it danced across your face. To say you looked picturesque was an understatement. Nothing could shit on this moment; nothing could annihilate his peace. He was sure of it.

“This is… it,” you said sadly, noticing that the restaurant was in fact closed.

Suddenly everything came crashing down. Kira felt like he was going to vomit into his shoes.

“What a shame,” he said, voice straining. He was convinced he could cry at any moment.

Your eyes darted around. “We could get udon,” you said, pointing at a restaurant across the street.

Kira spun around and nearly moaned as relief filled his chest. It was directly across the street, its existence a good omen. He could have kissed you for pointing it out.

“Yes,” he said, wiping his eyes. “We can get udon.”

You gave him a confused look. Damn, he must really love udon.

Dinner went well. You both ordered the same thing, but that was only because Kira wanted to mirror you and what he perceived as your moral superiority. You talked about work, expressing similar grievances. He rarely voiced his discontent to anyone, let alone his coworkers, but you disarmed him. Everything he knew and held dear was now flexible; he didn’t mind bending a little for you.

You upheld your part of the bargain and covered the bill without a second thought. He contemplated paying for everything while you weren’t paying attention, but you were too quick.

“You could have at least let me pay for half,” he said as you signed the receipt.

You smiled. “Nah.”

The sun had set and the streets were not bustling with as much life. The sidewalks were practically empty. Eight o’clock was growing near, putting Kira on edge. His confidence in his self control was waning. It was time to go home.

“Well I’ll see you on Monday. Thank you for dinner. It was nice.”

“You don’t wanna hang out for a little longer? Maybe grab some tea? Pudding? Anything?”

He clenched his fists, nails piercing his palms. Your company was now a burden to bear. He knew you wouldn’t make it out alive if you stuck around.

“You know you wanna have tea with me,” you purred. 

A playful grin adorned your face. It was true. Kira did want to have tea with you, but not like this. He wanted to be with you under the warm gaze of a perpetual sunset. He wanted perfection, but the circumstances made it impossible, sullying it all. The longer he was around you like this, the more he wanted to hurt you.

“I doubt anywhere decent is open,” he said firmly.

“We can go back to my place! I actually have this really good genmaicha if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Fuck, he thought to himself. I am into that sort of thing!

“Alright, a cup or two won’t kill me.”

“Me neither. Let’s gooooo.”

He could control himself; he could show a semblance of restraint. Maybe spending more time around you would let him realize your true value. If he liked you enough, surely he’d want to keep more than just your hand around. And it would be nice to have a friend at work, someone to make him seem like a typical guy.

He sighed and convinced himself everything would be fine.

And it was. When the two of you arrived at your home, Kira was pleasantly surprised by its comforting warmth. It was no sunset. But it was close enough, disarming him all the same. He made himself comfortable on your couch. You prepared the tea, blethering about your interests. He watched you intently, taking in every little movement you made.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you said, placing a cup of tea in front of him. “But you have the eyes of a hunter.”

“What?!”

Suddenly he was trying to look as doe-eyed as possible. He couldn’t believe his mask was already slipping.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you laughed, nervously scratching the base of your skull.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, don’t be,” you cooed as you took a seat beside him. “It’s not a bad thing. I—I, uh…”

You cut yourself off by taking a big sip of tea.

“What was that last part?” He asked, taking off his Valentino jacket. 

He carefully folded it and hoped the wrinkling would be minimal. He then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to feel less constricted, a little freer.

“Uh,” you mumbled, staring at his toned forearms. “It’s, like, attractive. I’m saying that objectively.”

You were courting him in the shadows. He wanted to shake you and beg you to stop, to end this nonsense, to kick him out of your home for his predator eyes. All the time Kira spent trying to shield you from it didn’t mean a thing. It made him ill. And it wasn’t as if he could tell you to stop being flirtatious because it made him want to kill you. If you knew that he was a demon with a thin veneer of sanity, he’d lose you forever.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping his tea.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t scooped you up already.”

“I don’t really like to make myself… scoopable.”

“Fair enough,” you said, scooching closer to him. “So, you’re not seeing anyone then?”

He paused. “I am not.”

You placed your hand on his thigh, fingers grazing the inside of it. He stared down at your hand like it was a grenade.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” you said bashfully.

Kira felt like he was going to implode.

“You know… I’ve always had a bit of a,” you coughed nervously, “crush on you. I don’t know why. I just feel drawn to you.”

His cock throbbed under his pants, begging to be freed. His carnal needs were taking over. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually fucked someone, and seeking solace in your cunt sounded endlessly appealing.

“Is that so?”

You nodded and squeezed his thigh. His body ached for you, all of you. He wanted to have every bit of it in his mouth and cover your skin with his cum.

“I need you, Yoshikage,” you said, pulling yourself into his lap. Your hands gripped his shirt.

He didn’t know what to say. You were seeing him too clearly. Hearing you say his name made it all too real. But still there was some allure to it. Rarely did Kira ever feel desired and it was clear as day that you wanted him. It stroked his ego in ways he never thought possible.

“Tell me how much.”

Your hands were now unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

“I’d rather die than be without your touch,” you mewled, rolling your hips against him.

Kira felt like his heart was caught in his throat.

You kissed his cheekbone. “Let’s go to my room.”

He followed you to your room and watched as you removed your work clothes. Your body was incredible, delectable, and he wanted to consume it. It was like a sun ripened peach, dewy and glistening under a full moon. He wondered how it would feel to sink his teeth into your flesh, how sweet your arousal must taste.

Kira did the same, carefully undressing and making sure his clothes wouldn’t look like crumpled paper once he put them back on. His ego sang as you took in his naked form. He knew he was physical perfection, a body in the image of a Bernini sculpture. Your eyes were wide, eager, and starving.

You crawled onto the bed, resting on your back with your legs spread wide. He had a perfect view of your slick cunt, one that nearly made him drool. Unable to contain himself, he got onto the bed and buried his head between your thighs. He lapped at your folds, the tip of his nose brushing up against your swollen clit.

He looked up at you and watched as you grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples between your fingers.

“Feels s’good,” you mumbled in a blissed out daze.

Kira gave your clit slow, languorous licks, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. He found himself rutting against the mattress, desperate to feel some form of friction. The sounds of your breathy moans sent him spiraling into a pit of pleasure and despair. His urges were creeping around him, whispering in his ears.

I wonder if she’d make the same noises if you sliced her up a bit.

He closed his eyes and focused on kissing the inside of your thighs while he slipped his fingers inside you. Your moans grew louder, more comely, as he curled them.

“More,” you moaned as you laced your fingers in his wavy, flaxen hair.

Show her the real Yoshikage Kira.

“I want your cock,” you whimpered.

He got on top of you, his blue eyes lost in your haze of ecstasy. Lust radiated off of you, drawing him in. There was no way he could deny you.

He guided his cock inside you, tossing his head back as it was surrounded by the plush heat of your cunt. You locked your legs around him, clinging to his body like your life depended on it. He loved every minute of it; feeling wanted and needed was the best sensation in the world. He was sure of it.

His thrusts were languid and sensuous. Kira liked to take his time while fucking. He was never plagued by the overwhelming reflex to come as fast and hard as possible. He preferred to focus on the needs of his partner, slowly drawing out their transcendent moans. He was hypervigilant in his awareness. You couldn’t hide a thing from Kira. He noticed every muscle twitch, every gasp and groan, every gloriously enraptured expression.

“How does it f—feel?” You asked.

He didn’t want to speak. He felt safer with his mouth shut.

You tightened your cunt around his cock.

“Shit,” he choked out as he bottomed out.

You let out a deep moan and dug your fingernails into his shoulders. Your orgasm flowed through your body, replacing your blood with unadulterated ardor. Your sweet sounds filled the room, overwhelming him.

“I can’t,” he spat out abruptly.

He pulled his cock out of you and rolled gracelessly off the bed.

“Huh?” You were in a fucked out daze.

“I have to go.”

“Is this about the library books?”

He shook his head. “No. I j—I have to leave.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“I’m afraid if I stay I’ll do something to you.”

You gave him a confused glare. “What are you talking about?”

KIra stared down at his hands, hoping they would have an answer.

“There is something terrible happening inside me and I don’t want it to interfere with my work life.”

You sat up, your annoyance was tangible and took up space in the room. Your eyes were fixed on his erect cock.

“No one has to know.”

“But—”

“Come on. Let me make you happy before you leave, hm?”

His eyes darkened. “You want to make me happy?”

“Yes. I wanna be filled with your cum,” you begged.

He walked over to the bed and grabbed your right wrist.

“Jerk me off.”

“Uh. Okay,” you said, squeezing his swollen shaft.

Precum dribbled out from the tip, coating your hand and you serviced him. You didn’t look enthused, but you gave it your all.

“Good girl,” he choked out as his cock spurted cum over your chest.

Kira looked down at you, trying to memorize your face since this was the last time he’d see it. He would miss your goofiness and your sweetness, but living without it wasn’t impossible. Life would just go back to the way it was before, the way it should be. Home by 8:00 PM. A glass of warm milk. Stretching.

Surely you would understand why he had to do it.

“Whoa,” you said suddenly. “Wha—what’s that fucking pink thing behind you?”

He panicked and Killer Queen vaporized your body, leaving nothing behind. Kira fell to the ground and buried his face into the side of the mattress. The pain in his chest was sharp and raging. He wished he could go back in time and never agree to dinner. He would have forced Natsumi to go with you. He would have insulted you to your face. Anything to keep you away from him.

Kira was at a loss, alone in your home. He had no idea if anyone saw him come in or if anyone at the office knew you two had gone out. He cursed himself for being so reckless and began to sob. His hubris has gotten the better of him.

What a waste. But don’t worry. There will be another one.

Before you ask: yes, y/n was a stand user. Her stand was Baby One More Time and she could bring plants back from the dead.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Including Kathryn Lester Masterlist

2018 (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dan has a chat with Kath, about his relationship and future with Phil.

A Long-Awaited Reunion (ao3) - Curlylinguist

Summary: Dan hesitates in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment. He wishes his hands weren’t full so he could snap a quick photo of the scene; Phil bending down to rest his head on top of Kath’s, her hand gently rubbing between his shoulder blades, Nigel on their other side leaning into Phil, whose arm is slung across his shoulder.

It’s been 16 months since Dan last saw them in this exact formation as they wandered round the Saatchi Gallery excitedly pointing out the ancient Egyptian artifacts to one another - but looking at them like this now, settled, comfortable, familiar as ever in each other’s presence and it could’ve just as easily been last week.

Kath and Nigel finally visit Dan and Phil in their new home.

A Very Lester Christmas (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Upon their arrival to the Lester family home for Christmas, Kath has special gifts ready for her sons.

Bear (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: As a child, Dan was easily frightened and needed comfort; that was when his Nana first gave him his Pooh Bear plush, as something that could keep him safe. Over the years, the plush became his absolute comfort, even into adulthood. When Phil comes into the picture, he makes Dan even more comfortable; through the good times and bad.

Becoming a Lester (ao3) - scifi

Summary: it’s december 2009 and after dinner, phil tells kath about the nature of his relationship with dan

Better Than Planned (ao3) - TwistedRocketPower

Summary: Dan and Kathryn take a walk and have a talk.

catching up (ao3) - neopold

Summary: Phil’s very tired and Dan talks to Kath on the phone.

changes (turn and face the strange) - happy_hufflepuffle

Summary: Kath likes to think she doesn’t miss things when it comes to her family. But maybe this time she did.

Christmas at the Lester’s (ao3) - troyiesivanie

Summary: Kath finally convinces Phil he should bring Dan up for Christmas, and it ends up being the best Christmas of his life.

even while the dust moves (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Nothing bad is supposed to happen when he’s with the Lesters. (Or, the day after Phil’s birthday brings darkness, and Kath makes tea. Set 2019.)

familiar perspectives (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Kath twinkles in Dan’s direction, and he knows she’s been watching his hands move across the puzzle. “Is he, now? Shame you’re stuck with him, then.”

(scenes from the isle, oct ‘21.)

house full of noise and laughter (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan finds himself home alone at Kath on a late December morning.

House Hunters (ao3) - citizen101erased

Summary: Kath and Nigel go down to London to help Phil and Dan find a house to buy.

kitchen counter (ao3) - ordanary

Summary: Phil asks Dan to come up north with him for Christmas, some realizations are made in the kitchen, and now Nigel owes Kath twenty pounds.

Lester Family Hospitality (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: The morning’s misty rain has turned into a genuine Manchester autumn downpour. As Kath walks past a novelty shop, she spots a young man facing the brick wall of the building. His arm is bent against the wall, and he’s leaning his forehead against his arm, and the poor thing is shaking with what Kath fears might be sobs.

An au fic about hot meals and serendipity.

love, mum (ao3) - panlesters

Summary: kath’s care packages over the years

Magic Soup (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: The Howell Lester household is ill and Kath comes to the rescue

maybe they’re seeing something we don’t, darling (ao3) - phantasizeit

Summary: When Phil invites Dan to the Lester family Christmas, Kath can only assume that they’ve have finally gotten together. Dan and Phil don’t realize Kath’s misunderstanding until it’s a little too late. But, how hard can it be to fake a relationship between them? (AKA: The fic where Dan and Phil are already dating, but have to be put in a fake relationship situation to realize it. Also, they do fluffy Christmas things with the Lesters.)

midnight cereal (ao3) - watergator

Summary: kath wakes in the night to find dan in her kitchen

slipping through my fingers (ao3) - Gal_tic

Summary: Even though he said he’d never grow up, Phil grew up.

Or, Kath reminisces on how time flies

The one where Dan should have packed more tissues(ao3) - counting2fifteen, itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: Dan wants to ask Phil to marry him, but he wants Kath and Nigel’s permission first.

they grew up so nicely, didn’t they? (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Cornelia doesn’t just get a boyfriend when she starts dating Martyn, she gets a whole second family too. Kath and Nigel welcome her with open arms and she becomes a pseudo older sister to Phil.

She is there watching from the sidelines as a boy bolts right into Phil’s heart and sets up camp. She gets to watch as Dan and Phil build careers and an internet community and all the trials and tribulations, as well as the pride and happiness, it brings along.

[sirfrogsworth]

Wishlist Haul

All I asked for were pants, and those are coming Saturday. But you all came through in a big way with my wishlist and helped me solve some problems that have really been bugging me lately.

One of my biggest current issues is my decision to use my M1 MacBook Air as my main computer until I can move my PC upstairs at some distant time in the future. Which means I need to ask a lot more of it. And it is capable, as these Apple Silicon devices are amazing and very zippy, but I only got 256 GB of storage because I thought this would just be a secondary computer while I was taking care of my dad.

So I need storage. And if you do photography and use Lightroom, you know you need *fast* storage. In the days of spinny disc drives, going back and forth between images was maddeningly slow. I already hate the process of culling photos and picking the best ones. And sometimes you'd need to find 5 winners out of a few hundred. And when it took 3 seconds to switch between every photo, I wanted to die. And honestly, it could still be better.

But one of the best solutions is a super fast SSD. Which I had. I bought it right before my parents got especially ill and was planning to install it in my PC. But my priorities changed and I just never found the energy.

The problem is that was an internal NVME SSD. I needed it to be external.

Which is where this little thingie comes in.

This is an NVME enclosure, and if you are looking for cheap, fast external storage, this is so much better than those external SSDs they overcharge for. For $200 they give you a 2TB drive that can read about 2000 MB per second. Or you can get a 2TB NVME and this enclosure for the same price and get 3000 MB per second. Not only that, but it is upgradeable. In a year when 4TB is $100, you can plop that in. And the Mac's Thunderbolt 4 has a max speed of around 5000 MB/s, so there is room to improve there as well. Though sometimes advertised speeds are not reality speeds.

The only thing you need to be aware of is these drives run hot. You're going to think there is something wrong with them. Like, they top out at 90C. Which is nearly 200 degrees in freedom units.

I wanted a convenient way to mount my drive, but I didn't want 200 degrees on the back of my screen, so... MAGNETS!

And I can stack a few more if that section starts feeling too hot.

So, I have that problem solved. I can now use this as my main computer and work on my photography.

Next up... fashion!

I'm going out more and I want to look a little more presentable. I thought these two tone shirts looked a little more fashionable. And they are very comfortable too. I have a red one that I think I'm going to wear on my trip. I know you can't see the two tone well in the picture, so here is the product photo of the red one.

Next problem?

Well, it's maybe not a problem so much as something cool I wanted. A black light!

My mom had all of this uranium glass and I had no idea my salt shaker was marginally radioactive all these years. I really wanted to take a proper photo of some of the glass before it all gets sold at auction. So this should be a fun experiment.

I will say, if you don't have uranium glass, don't get a black light. You will want to burn your house down. It does not matter how clean you think you got something... you didn't clean it enough. And I have all of this dry flaky skin on my feet. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't bother me. You can't even really see it unless you look really close. But when I shined the light on my feet they looked like they had some undocumented disease. I will not be sharing a photo of that.

But the depression glass, that's super neat.

Some proper photos coming soon I hope. Maybe after my trip.

Next problem!

My key fob. This thing is a piece of shit.

Even if it looks cool under a black light, it is THE WORST.

It's cheap plastic, it takes a stupid watch battery, the symbols on the buttons all wore off. And all of that I could handle, but for some reason this fob has an effective range of about 2 feet. I literally have to be standing next to the door before it will work.

I had a black fob that worked much better, only the plastic casing was falling apart. But I taped it up as best I could and hoped it would not fall apart. Then I went to get my tires changed and they needed the fob to do some special reset of the pressure sensors and the battery died before they could. I went home to try and change the battery, and the entire thing basically disintegrated on me.

The inside looks like this.

The battery retention contact is held on by a tiny dab of solder. And if you pull the battery up even a little, it snaps off. And that's what happened. And to make matters worse, the rubber buttons were falling apart and the unlock button just... fell off.

So I was either stuck with the 2 foot range green one or I needed a new fob. Thankfully, they are only 20 bucks for 2 on Amazon. Unfortunately you need a dealer or an auto locksmith to program them. The lowest quote was $100 for about 5 minutes of work. The dealer actually wanted to sell me the fob as well, which they quoted as $150 for ONE. Same cheap plastic piece of shit and everything.

So, I got all of the parts from the broken fob and I hot glued that battery contact back into place and I transplanted that into a shiny new casing.

Works just like new. The buttons feel much better, I can actually see the symbols, and it has a range of at least 100 feet. And that hot glue isn't going anywhere. Changing the battery might be an issue, but these lasted several years.

Next problem!

An intervalometer is a fancy shutter button for a camera that allows very long exposures. It is detached from the camera so you don't shake anything and it needs a backlit screen because if you are using it, you are most likely in the dark.

My intervalometer is about 12 years old and uses another dreaded watch battery. And the backlight on the screen seems to be dead. So it is pretty much useless.

But look at this!

The light even works in the... well, light! And it takes normal batteries. Seriously, watch batteries need to stay in watches.

I don't know if I will get to take a long exposure in Florida, but I want to have this with me in case I do.

Next problem!

This one I actually solved on my own. But I found these stainless iron (yes, iron!) shims and I covered them with black tape and now all of my most used kitchen items never take up counter space.

Yes, I use magnets and hot glue to solve most of my problems.

Next problem!

My garage door is not very smart. And the remote control for it is huge and does not fit in my man purse.

So I downsized the remote.

But I wanted to fix the non-smart thing as well. A while back my brother got into my garage without me knowing. He must have taken a remote of his own. And I really don't feel like figuring out how to change the frequency, so I now have a sensor that lets me know when the door is open with a phone notification. Beyond that, I can open or close the door from my smartphone from anywhere. And I can give access to anyone with a smartphone in case of an emergency.

I will say, this company is really paranoid about people being crushed by garage doors. The instructions tell you to put up this sign in your garage...

And if you use the app to close the door, you get a light show with annoying beeping...

And I know that these accidents happen in real life. But whenever I think about how that could actually happen, all I can imagine is that scene in Austin Powers...

In any case, I am really glad I have this now. And I also like that if I forget to close the garage door, I can check the app and not have to get up to do it.

OH! I almost forgot. If I want, I can have Amazon place packages inside my garage.

Next problem!

What in the heck do I need galvanized steel plates for?

In product photography you need a diffusion panel called a scrim. If you try to buy one of these already made, they are hundreds of dollars. They are mostly made for movie productions, and those items always have inflated costs.

So most product photographers make their own out of tracing paper or a special plastic called Translum. It's $80 per roll, but lasts forever. I used to hang my scrims from the ceiling. But you can't really angle or move them, so you have to move the object you are photographing instead. Which is just a backwards way to work. So I invented my own scrims with two strips of very thin wood, metal chip clips, these little plastic feet that held up plexiglass barriers during COVID. And to weigh everything down... steel plates.

This is version 1.0 where I glued the plastic rather than affixing it with the chip clips.

The clips work much better and allow me to put different weights of plastic on, or even double plastic, for more or less diffusion. And I ended up not needing that board at the bottom which allows me to curve it as well.

And these scrims let me take this photo...

It's called graduated lighting and it makes things look neat.

I also got a backpack for my trip and shorts, but I am going to forego an explanation of those.

To all that helped, thank you so much. I hope you can see I am putting everything to good use.

[karizard-ao3]

It’s time for the school play and it’s Romeo & Juliet. Mikasa gets the role of Juliet and Eren couldn’t give a fuck about the play until he found out Romeo and Juliet kiss, in front of everybody. And now Eren is obsessively after the role, only he can’t act to save his life

There's this animanga from the late 80s/early 90s that I adore called Ranma 1/2 that has a Romeo and Juliet high school theater production arc and all I can picture is that but with Eremika as Ranma and Akane. I'm going to try to break free from that restraint.

Okay, so first things first, if Mikasa got the role and Eren didn't, that means she auditioned and he probably didn't bother. So he's shit out of luck by the time he finds out the guy cast as Romeo (Jean??? Maybe???) is going to be kissing Mikasa. This means Eren has two options: to make sure the kiss doesn't happen or to steal the role.

So, what does Eren do?

He gets himself appointed to the stage crew, of course, and begins doing everything he can to make Jean's life a living hell.

He's smacking into him with set pieces, sabotaging his props, he is orchestrating wardrobe malfunctions left and right. During rehearsals, every time they get to the kiss he knocks something over and interrupts them. The director is getting fed up but they also can't help but love watching the drama unfold before them, so they let Eren do his thing for the most part and wonder what is going to happen when the boy can't delay the kiss any longer.

Eren's already on top of that. He knows he can't keep dropping set pieces when there's an audience because he doesn't want to ruin the play for Mikasa, but he also would rather die than see her kiss another guy. Therefore, he needs Jean out of the picture. He concluded long ago that if he's going to keep Mikasa's lips for himself he has to give Jean mono. What better way to put him out of commission and prevent the kiss than the kissing disease itself? Eren loves the irony. Or, he would if he paid attention in English class long enough to know what irony is.

And so, Eren's quest to give Jean mono is already well under way by the time he enters the scene as a member of the stage crew.

But wait, you may say. How is Eren going to infect another kid with mono if he doesn't have it? You forget that Eren's father is a doctor. Eren knows from dinner time conversation that there's been an outbreak of it at a nearby high school and tons of those kids have it. All Eren has to do is get in touch with one of them and obtain their spit. He is not bound by the strictures of common decency or shame, so he starts hitting kids at the other school up, trying to find one who is just as depraved as he is who is willing to sell him their diseased saliva. And you know he manages to find one.

He cuts school takes the bus to the next town over , exchanging fifty dollars for a baby food jar full of saliva from a fellow unhinged teenage, then hurrying back to campus before the virus loses potency.

He arrives just in time for lunch and immediately gets busy contaminating poor Jean's food when he isn't looking.

Then he sits back and crosses his fingers that Jean's symptoms will hit before opening night (it takes 4 - 6 weeks for the infection to brew). He also makes sure to keep Jean's putrid lips off Mikasa. His on-stage kerfuffles have been protecting more than just his own tender heart. He's got to keep Jean from infecting Mikasa, lest Eren find himself onstage as Romeo without his Juliet.

Jean is looking concerningly healthy as opening night approaches, though, and Eren is beginning to think he's going to have to go back to the other kid's house and demand a refund when, with only two days to spare, Jean succumbs to Eren's machinations and falls ill with mononucleosis.

The director is freaking out. Jean can't be in the play if he has mono but who is going to fill in for him?

Eren to the rescue. Surprise, surprise. He has the part memorized.

The director has no choice. The show must go on even if it means Romeo recites all his lines like a robot and everyone in the audience can tell he's slipping Juliet some tongue when he kisses her. At least, the audience all tentatively agree as they try to find a bright spot in the mess of a play they just witnessed, the two leads have tons of chemisty.

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 12

Warnings: Allusions to mental illness, mentions of death. As Always, Read Safely.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Missing Pieces

---

“Aaaaand…” The moment was drawn out, the slight suspense hovering over everyone’s heads as the gentleman with the devilish smirk flicked his wrist. The final card swirled over onto the pile in the middle of the table. “I win, suckers!” Mammon leaned back in his chair with a bright grin on his face as everyone else groaned. He tilted the chair back a bit, balancing the furniture on its back two legs as he kicked his own up onto the table. His body was quickly shoved off the tabletop, almost sending him to the floor as Levi huffed. They got into a little spat, Levi claiming Mammon was cheating. Their argument seemed to be so natural, Beel and Asmo treated it as simple background noise. You were starting to learn to do the same.

With a sigh, Asmo chucked the rest of his cards on the table and shrugged. Perfectly painted nails ran through the strands of his hair. Locks shimmered, and you could’ve sworn you noticed tiny sparkles of glitter here and there. “And with that, I’m out.” He stood from his seat and strutted off, turning his head over his shoulder towards you as he waggled his fingers a bit. “Bye,” his voice cooed a little. “It’s been fun.” But even with that not-so-subtle flirting, he left as if he was dying to get out of here. Your brief time spent with him was already over.

The sound of the door shutting seemed to bring Mammon and Levi out of it. Your first pact-mate was still riding the high of his victory, even if he didn’t seem to be winning anything from it. “Well, want to go again?”

“No,” Levi groaned, settling back in his seat with slumped shoulders, Envy radiating off of him. Still, he showed no signs of leaving at the moment, and leaned forward to take his drink in his hands. “We should play something else. You win any card game because you cheat.”

“I don’t cheat!”

The heat of the second fight was snuffed out by an almost amused hum as Beel spoke. “I don’t care what we do. But maybe Levi is right, we should switch it up a bit.” The youngest of the humans present continued to eat the spread on the table. Frankly, you agreed with the other two. All of the snacks were nearly gone by now. You had spent the better part of the evening playing this colored-card game. You were trash at it, even though the rules weren’t too complex. Blame it on your frazzled mind. The day up until now had been rough, and you still couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of anxiety that had clung to you ever since you saw that flash of the camera. Mammon had continued to try to convince you it was simply someone following after them, but that didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it made you feel worse.

Apparently Lucifer wasn’t the only famous one out of the seven. They all had some fame in their own right. Part of you had to wonder if it was due to their enormous influence in the Devildom. Mammon, as he said before, was a model. Posted on websites and magazines, adorning some of the most expensive brands on the market. Levi was a streamer, more popular online than in public, but people still knew his face. Satan was quite the brilliant prodigy, famous for entering competitions he’d had no previous history being in just to wipe the floor with everyone else, reveling in their wrath. Asmo was another influencer. Vlogging, photo-shopping, graphic design, interior design, dipping his hands into the fashion and makeup industries, he dabbled in quite a few areas, his following garnering huge numbers. Beel apparently was a famous football player, but had recently quit and left his team. Probably due to Lilith. And Belphie… well, actually, you still didn’t know a lot about him. No one wanted to talk about him almost as much as they didn’t want to talk about Lilith. So, yes, at the end of the day, the picture could’ve been centered around any one of them. To the outside world, you were just a sudden random stranger hanging out with the Morningstars. You could imagine the rumors now, being painted as some sudden love-interest that would cause the drama and intrigue that humans couldn’t live without. The thought made you groan.

“We should play a video game!” Levi announced, suddenly brightening at the thought.

Mammon scoffed. “No, because you always win those.”

“We should go outside and—“

“No,” both Levi and Mammon buzzed, cutting poor Beel off before he could even get his thought out.

Gluttony looked downcast for just a second before shaking it off, his head raising to look towards you. “What do you feel like doing?”

“Hm?” You straightened your back a bit. “Me?” Beel nodded and you fell silent as you thought about it. “I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time.” That seemed to send all the other humans into their own thoughts. You could read the same expression on all their faces. They hadn’t done anything like this in a long time either.

“We should probably clean the dining room up before Lucifer comes home,” Beel finally announced, picking up empty boxes and bags and eating the last few bites of everything while piling the trash into his arms.

“Don’t think Lucifer’s comin’ home tonight,” Mammon stated, but hopped up to his feet, grabbing his drink and his own bags off the floor, leaving his spot cluttered. “If he’s not home at this time of night, he’s not comin’ home at all. So we don’t hafta worry about it. Besides, it’s not like he ever comes here anyway.” A swift kick was made under the table, Levi’s foot coming into contact with his brother’s ankle. That’s when you both caught a glimpse of the deep-rooted sorrow on Beel’s face. Mammon got the message.

“I hope he comes back home soon,” Beel muttered. The way he said it, it sounded as if this sort of thing happened often. Lucifer was gone a lot. The red-haired human took a breath as if he was going to say something, but then changed his mind, taking himself and some of the trash out of the room. Beel vanished out into the hallway without another word.

“Way to go, idiot,” Levi hissed.

“What?!” Mammon bared his teeth for a second. “I… I was just being honest, ya know? It’s not… I don’t like it either! I…” He gestured angrily towards the door Beel left from before letting his hand drop, his arm swinging limply back to his side and hitting his thigh. You turned your head a bit, the last threads of intense sadness fading from the room. That human… was not okay.

Levi finally stood up, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. “I’ll go check on him.” He walked away from the table and stopped for a second to look back at you. “I- uh- hope you like w-what I bought you. If you hate it, you can just throw it away!” After he was done shouting, he skittered away like a nervous lizard.

A frustrated hiss of air was pushed between Mammon’s teeth. The human muttered something about ‘unfair’ and ‘my gift was better’ and ‘I thought of that too, he just got to it first’. You rolled your eyes a little. “It’s not a competition.” While shopping, apparently Mammon and Levi both had the same grand idea to get you matching gifts. Mammon had so graciously gifted you a wallet. Apparently it was some popular brand, as if that meant anything to you, but it seemed to mean wonders to him. He claimed that he figured he’d might as well snag you one as a thank you, and as a means to finally have somewhere to place your money that Simeon gave you. Supposedly it was pretty dangerous to just have that piece of plastic just floating around in your room and pockets. Levi on the other hand, had bought you a phone case. When he finally noticed your device was ‘naked’ as he put it, he almost had a panic attack. So, he purchased you one. Stylish and functional, he claimed. Supposed to protect this little rectangle from cracking. Make it easier to hold. And he made sure it was one like his. It was rather amusing if you thought about it hard enough. Humans had the strangest ways of marking.

Greed couldn’t seem to find a proper reply. “Yeah…well…whatever.” Seemed like his mind was on other things.

“Is your brother going to be okay?” You curled your legs up, heels planted into the seat as you held your ankles. Every time you had met Beel so far, a simple phrase was all it took to send him away. Like it was painful to be around everyone. But a look in his eyes suggested that it was more painful to be without anyone. A dangerous double sword.

Mammon occupied his worried gaze by trying to admire some of his items in his many bags. “Beel? Yeah. Maybe… I dunno actually. He’s been having a real rough time ever since… You know.”

Lilith. “You’re worried about him.”

“Of course I am! You think I wouldn’t be?” His lips pursed a bit in thought, not noticing that you’d gotten to your feet. “We all suffered, but Beel… is taking it extra hard. Doesn’t help that Belphie… he’s not here right now. And they’re usually attached at the hip.”

You lowered your head a little to look straight into his eyes. It unsettled him, his pupils dilating as he flicked his sight away. “Mammon,” you coaxed, waiting until he eventually stared back at you. “I think it’s time you told me about Belphie.”

The house had gone quiet. It surprised you a little. Typically with so many people in one home, you could hear at least one person staying up with the moon. Yet, tonight, it appeared as if everyone was getting decent sleep. Even Mammon and Levi were resting. They were still recovering it seemed. And while you had strict orders now to do the same, you figured you would start taking this… job of yours a little more seriously. Seven whole humans were under your care now, and yet there were several brothers you’d only really met once.

Cloaked in your power, feeling a bit better after the prince’s intervention, you stepped through the halls. You were only just now starting to get a feel for the home, for all its twists and turns. But other than Mammon’s, Levi’s, and your own room, you had no strong sense of which doors led where. You hadn’t particularly cared to map this place out before, but now… this all felt much more real. Every day away from the Devildom cemented it further into your head that this wasn’t a joke. You were meant to stay here. A full year. Watching over these humans as if they were treasures. And now you had a pact with two of them. Perhaps you even felt… okay with staying here. There were worse places to be.

Silently, you started opening doors. The room right across from Mammon’s opened easily and without any noise. Faint little glowing lights illuminated certain spots of the room. The scent of vanilla and rose wafted out into the hall. Flowers and fabrics and elegance. Asmo’s room. You moved on. The next door stood out to you a little. It seemed slightly different than the other doors, not quite matching the house. A replacement for an older door perhaps. Inside was a mess of books and random objects of curiosity. Whoever was sleeping inside was tossing and turning. Satan. You’d leave him to his restlessness. The next discoveries were pretty uneventful. A storage closet, the bathroom, a little entranceway into an attic. Down at the other end of the hall, you entered into a vast bedroom. A master bedroom if ever you saw one. Empty. No one was inside. The stale fading scent of coffee beans and rustic wine. Lucifer’s domain. Although, much like Mammon’s had been, the bedroom hadn’t been used much in recent days. It felt cold. Empty. Mostly there for presentation’s sake. Much like the man himself.

Turning out of the room, you headed towards the last door on the upper floor. Before even peeking inside, gentle snoring could be heard from out in the hallway. Inside had not just one, but two beds. Each side of the room mirrored each other in layout, but had opposite designs. One bed had a lump of a human inside, the other was completely vacant. Without making a noise, you walked inside. Stepping over to the empty bed, you stared at a picture frame hanging from the wall. It was the same photo Lucifer had in his office… The one with all of them together and the sibling you could only conclude was Lilith. Now that you had some more time on your hands, you took a closer look at the picture. Lucifer was standing tall behind everyone, looking at the camera like one would properly pose. His hands were on the brother in front of him- Levi- keeping him from dashing away. Mammon was by Lucifer’s side, and Asmo by Mammon’s. Both of those two were doing their best to make the other one look the least photogenic as possible. Beel had pulled two others into his arms. Lilith… and another one. A younger boy with darkened hair and a soft look in tired eyes. Belphie? And now that you were looking at it, you realized you had been mistaken. Each brother was not there. You had counted seven people and your mind had filled in the blanks. But one person was missing. Satan wasn’t here. You did remember saying that Satan had been brought into the family last… perhaps this was before he came to be a Morningstar.

This side of the room had no scent… other than the lingering smell you associated with Beel. Belphie had been gone for a long time… You turned your head away from the photo and sat on the bed. The mattress squeaked a little, causing Beel to turn in his spot, waking a little. “Belphie?…” He muttered, half-asleep. His eyes stared past you at Belphie’s empty bed. The human laid there quietly before turning back on his other side. The snoring didn’t kick back up.

“Hospital?” You had asked when Mammon finally gave you an answer. “Is he sick?”

Mammon had struggled finding the words to say. He had fiddled with his hands, walked around his room, touched nearly everything he owned in a form of distraction. “In a way… Guess his mind wasn’t doin’ so well after Lilith died. He had always…struggled, but it got worse. And then one day… he just wasn’t home. Lucifer told everyone he was bein’ looked after and he’d be back home soon, but… that was a whole year ago now. Although we’ve finally heard that he’s coming back. Prolly within’ the next month or so.”

And that was that. No more information. No way of being able to check on Belphie. Lucifer seemed to be the only one with that information. And there was no way in heaven or hell that the eldest would give you permission. Hadn��t even let Beel see his own twin. Mammon had said Lucifer explained that it would be ‘better for Belphie’s recovery’ that way. Forced isolation. There had to be some way to find Belphie. For all you knew, some demon was already getting their claws into him. But… that would not be a problem for tonight. For the rest of tonight… maybe you’d do what was asked of you and let your body recover. Standing up from Belphie’s old bed, you snuck carefully past Beel and left.

The guest room… your room, felt strangely… different than normal. It was a well furnished guest-room. A bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a small table and chairs, some shelves, a bookcase. More than one might need for a temporary guest, but perhaps it had been created in the event the Morningstars added another person to their family. However, even with these things, something wasn’t quite… right. It was empty. And… while you really didn’t particularly care for human things… a new sin inside you couldn’t help but compare your room to every one else's. Levi’s envy… a pesky thing. A constant nagging in the back of your mind, complimented by Mammon’s greed. You needed something. Something that would now mark this room as yours officially.

Mammon’s room was quiet. The only lights that were on were a few soft display lights positioned above the car in it’s special loft. The shine from the metal sent glittering silver rays streaking across his ceiling. Must be comforting to him to open his eyes and see his room shining. His room definitely seemed much more lived in than the first time you’d been in here. Not as…empty. Although most of that was due to Mammon’s recent spending fervor. Bags and open boxes lay clustered by his couch, covering a good portion of the floor. His spending spree from earlier was… self-indulgent to say the least.

Your pact-mate was fast asleep, sprawled out under his covers. The aroma of his cologne was especially prominent. You stared at him for a while, little flashes of Greed and Envy flowing through your veins. The jacket that he had worn earlier was still draped over the end of his bed, slowly sliding off the mattress every time Mammon moved his foot. You snagged his jacket and left.

There was still light coming from under Levi’s door, but you heard no sound. A quick twist of the doorknob and you looked inside. Envy was resting curled up in a little ball on his bed. Seemed to you like he’d fallen asleep over his covers playing a game on a handheld device. He’d passed out during it apparently. You rolled your eyes a bit, padding over to him to take the game from his hands and set it on his nightstand, taking a bunched up blanket settled in his computer chair and draping it over the sleeping human. Strange troublesome creatures. Didn’t temperature greatly affect them? What if he got cold and died in the middle of the night?

Levi had a great many things in his room to choose from. None of which really stood out to you. You didn’t care for the figurines or the posters or the novelty items. There was a cushion of sorts on the floor, one in front of the TV in the corner of his room. A controller was settled on it, specific bumps and indents that suggested he rested his arms on it while playing. You crouched over and put the game controller aside, picking the cushion up to look at it. It was a pastel blue, almost minty color, with some kind of design on it that you were sure had some significance to Levi, but one that was completely foreign to you. You tucked it under your arm and walked out.

It was only fair. You had made two pacts, both without asking anything from them. They owed you more than they could ever pay back. These little trinkets were fair game, and frankly you felt as if you deserved it. You took your newly purloined items back to your room and put them both on your bed. Now it felt… more right. Greed and Envy were satisfied in you for the moment. Annoying little sins… Good thing you wouldn’t have to deal with any more of them.

You settled yourself into bed, able to close your eyes without having to worry about anything tonight.

A distant door shut.

The sound woke you instantly, every nerve in your body blaring. High alert. It took a moment for your memories to trickle back into your sleep-addled brain. But still. It was late. Well, for humans anyway. And for the Morningstars, it was well past Lucifer’s lockdown curfew. Unless it was the accursed man himself finally slinking home. But the codes… Maybe… was someone leaving? With a little groan, you got up to your feet to investigate.

The entrance hall was quiet. No new shoes were thrown near the front door. Someone must’ve left. You closed your eyes, reminding yourself that you wouldn’t overdo it. Nothing big enough to send Simeon snapping back at your heels. Just a little magic once more to make sure everything was alright. The skin across your body tingled as you went invisible, opening the front door and scanning the front yard.

A person was tapping away at a security lock on the inside of the gate, raising his head as the entrance to the property was opened. You jogged down the driveway and out of the grounds just before the gate shut behind you. Feet shuffled away. A glimpse of ginger-hair before a hood was pulled up over his head. Beel? Did he do jogs this early in the morning or something? His pace was steady though, rather slow. This wasn’t a mindless walk either. You had assumed for a moment that he had been antsy, perhaps walking off some anxiety, but every turn he made seemed intentional. Easy to keep up with at least. You tagged a few feet behind him, constantly turning your head, making sure no more eager demons could get the best of you.

Neighborhood homes eventually dwindled, approaching a more quiet side of town. There weren’t any towering buildings and crowded streets this way. You both passed a park, a little school, a pond. And then you approached a large gated off property. A tall mental fence curled up from the ground. Sharp metal arrows studded the top, a few bent in wrong directions from time and abuse. There was a large metal gate, two swinging doors frozen in place with a chain and lock. A pretty simplistic security system even for demonic standards. Even if you were from a different world, there were still universal signs and signals that you could pick up on. Do not enter. Not in the dead of night at least.

Beel turned, following the fence along it’s side, moving away from the gate. Curious… The both of you rounded the corner, at the back of the grounds now. Beel stepped off the sidewalk.

A stump sat near the pavement. Based from the size, it must’ve been a grand tree in it’s time. Now it waited for someone to finally pluck it from it’s eternal home in the ground. Although until then, it seemed to serve another purpose. Beel stepped up on it, looking over his shoulder. You pieced together what he was doing just as he gripped the top of the fence, his fingers snug between the spikes. Somehow, you kept yourself from hissing his name, remembering at the last moment that you were a shadow, nothing more. In a easy fluid motion, Beel hopped the fence. You were rather surprised to see how agile he was, even with his bigger frame. Either he was more skilled than you gave a human credit for, or he’d done this before. It was possible it was both. He landed on the other side with hardly a grunt, straightening his jacket before moving further across the lawn. You sighed softly to yourself. Even Beel, the one who you had assumed would be the least problematic… was trespassing… Could you have a single easy night? Was that too much to ask? Yes. Apparently it was.

Quickly following after him, you leapt, toes just barely touching the stump before you spryly hopped over the barrier without needing to use your hands. And while you scarcely made a sound, Beel still turned, stopping in his tracks, scanning the area. A few seconds passed before he continued on, looking rather relaxed for someone on forbidden grounds. You couldn’t help but seem to notice he knew where he was going too. Even with your stellar vision in the dark, you had almost tripped on several headstones while keeping the human steady in your sights. Meanwhile, Beel swiveled around graves in the dark, continuing towards his destination.

Eventually, Beel slowed. He stood in front of a pristine slab of stone, a name etched into it, a depiction of angelic wings cut into marble. He settled, sitting on the ground right in front of the headstone, crossing his legs under him. He adjusted the flowers that were there, noting with a crushed petal between his fingers that they needed to be replaced. You felt the lungs in your chest shrink a bit tighter. All you could do was watch. Yet, even as hellish as you were, invading his space and eavesdropping felt… too wrong. This was meant to be a private moment. So, instead, you’d simply make sure he was safe. A nearby tree suited surveillance purposes, just out of earshot of the human. Your claws dug into the bark before you pulled yourself up onto a branch, settling in with your back against the trunk, one leg dangling down as your tail served as proper support.

So this was where Lilith was…

Beel hunched himself over, his lips moving as he began to talk to the dearly departed. There was no smile on his face. There were things he needed to get off his chest, things he perhaps thought only the dead would listen to.

The fluttering of feathers caught your attention. A beautiful stark-white dove landed beside you, sharing your branch. Its head turned and twitched as it observed Beel in the distance, then turned its focus towards you despite your invisibility. It blinked innocently at you.

You couldn’t help but sigh loudly, a bit of your energy chipping away. “What are you doing here, angel?”

The dove cooed humorously before white swirled quickly in front of your vision, the creature revealing its true form. “Can’t I say hello outside of work?” Solomon grinned, trying still to bat his eyes at you in a wholesome manner. His casual body language as he curled his legs over the branch and the subtle shimmer around him suggested he was keeping himself from human view as well. To others, he probably still resembled a dove.

You scoffed a bit at him. “You’ve never bothered to reach out before.”

“Well, I’ve been busy!” He explained, pausing for a moment as if expecting a little bit of praise. When he wasn’t getting any, he moved on. The subject changed completely, successfully dodging the question you asked. “He comes here a lot, you know.” As his legs swung, he kicked one foot in Beel’s direction. “More frequently as of late…” Solomon’s personality thus far had been… some might say shady. Infuriating on some levels. Helpful in the ways that only seemed to benefit him at the same time, always taunting you with hints that suggested he held the keys to all your questions. Rather demonic, really. An angel with a dangerous smile working together with a demon with virtuous goals. What a match. That all aside, for once Solomon appeared sympathetic, almost… guilty. That couldn’t be right though, could it? Why would he be?…

“Does he break in like this often? If he keeps going like this, he’s going to get caught.” If Beel got dragged away for something like this, you didn’t want to imagine the next lecture Simeon would give you.

Solomon went back to smiling, that remorseful expression entirely gone. “Oh, he’s already been discovered.” A bubble of laughter drifted up to his lips. “It was on his first night jumping the fence too. Fell right in front of the security guard. She was about ready to drag him out by the ear and call the cops, but one look at his pleading face got her to rethink things. She allows him come by after close every so often. Brought him cookies last week. Her mom used to be a baker, so she says. He only does this on especially bad days.”

As you listened to the angel, you watched Beel talk to Lilith’s cold grave some more. The human swayed back and forth in his place, like he was trying to comfort himself. You raised an eyebrow at Solomon. “How… do you know all this?”

For once, the man gave you a rather straightforward answer. “I’ve always had my eye on them.” That only raised more questions.

“If that’s true, why didn’t Simeon make you stay with them?” Surely an angel who already knew them better than you did would make a better bodyguard.

One shoulder shrugged. “The prince has his reasons.” Sure he did. How annoying. "And, as you know, the Celestial Realm is real serious about interfering with mortals."

Right... you remembered something like that. It was brought up to you once before. A very long time ago... when you had asked an angel for a favor. “Still... I'm not blind. You both are keeping things from me. I don’t like it. Is Simeon lying to me? What are you both really after?”

A tut. “Come now. You don’t give away the twist of Act Three before its dramatic reveal.” His hand swirled in a performative gesture. “Simeon knows exactly what he wants. Meanwhile, I know how to get it there. And you, my darling friend, are the beating heart that keeps it moving forward. We are all required to do our part.”

Was he really your friend? You found that hard to believe. Allies don’t often keep things from each other. They weren’t supposed to keep each other at arms length for safety reasons. “I don’t like being moved around like a pawn.”

You waited for some half-hearted reassurance that you were not a pawn, but it never came. Instead, Solomon held out his palm and cast a sparkling spell. “Here.” He handed you a white box.

“What is it?”

“An olive branch.” The corners of his mouth lifted, a gentle smile on his face, but his eyes still glistened with a playful coyness. “Listen, everything will be laid out full in time. Just trust Simeon and I to do our proper work behind the scenes.” He judged the look on your face and chuckled. “He can get a little… you know… authoritarian when things don’t go quite like he expects it to, but he’s your ally. He wants what’s best for all of us. The Morningstars included.” You could’ve responded in a myriad of ways, but instead, you decided to leave things be. For now. An easy movement opened the lid of the box. Inside was a round cake, covered in uneven pink frosting. A yellow smiley face and several icing flowers decorated the top. Two plastic forks were settled inside. You shut the box again, raising your eyes to see Solomon suddenly beaming. Something about the cake had invoked the most genuine excitement from him yet. That made you nervous… “I made it myself.” You figured. This was nothing close to Luke’s. You’d have to give that little demon some kudos next time you saw him.

You nodded politely and settled the box in your lap despite something deep within you encouraging to throw the thing as far as you could. You wondered why… “Thank you.”

“You should go share it with him,” Solomon suggested. “It’ll probably make you both feel better.” With that said, his form flickered, a fog rolling over him till the little dove was back at your side. He chirped twice in a ‘goodbye’ and flew away as strangely as he came.

You looked down at the box in your lap before observing Beel again. Sparkling tears ran down his face. This was a bad idea… yet, something compelled you to do it anyway. Hopping down from the branch, you snuck behind the cover of the tree before becoming visible once more. You strutted out, making sure your footsteps made enough of a crunch to announce your presence. When you were close enough, Beel snapped his head back to look at you, quickly wiping away his tears. Fear crossed over his face, and then confusion. “MC?” He blinked, having to look at you several times before he had confirmed that it was you he was seeing. “What… are you doing here?”

“Ah… your brothers said I might find you here.” A terrible lie, but you had no other excuse. You lifted the box in the air and sat by his side. “In the mood for cake?”

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