#oh also I have freezing hands all the time and love bothering people and one lady was like well you know what that means

[boydepartment]

three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was a request from my 🧈 anon :3 i hope you love it my dear

warnings- jealousy! nothing insane tho, mostly fluff 😋 i added a small inside joke that riki would call ricky from zb1 “discount ricky” all jokes tho (pls don’t kill me)

wc- honestly over 750

MASTERLIST

“here.” you looked over to riki setting your drink down on the table, you looked up at him and smiled as he sat down across from you at the cafe table.

“did you-“

“ask for extra peppermint? yes. even though it’s gross..” riki mumbled, you giggled and sipped your hot coco. it was freezing cold at least to you and so the coco helped a lot.

“when is your project partner arriving?” riki mumbled, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged, “any minute.” setting your coco down riki watched you, he wasn’t necessarily happy over this whole project partner thing. riki knew your project partner, and safe to say he was just irritated by his presence. he didn’t know why, but he was just irked.

so when the OTHER ricky walked in, he just waved and watched as the other boy sat next to you.

“hey y/n!” he smiled, you grinned back at him.

“hey! it’s cold outside are you sure you’re bundled up enough?” you asked, grabbing your books. riki just decided to go on his phone to pass time.

“yeah! it’s crazy how quickly the weather changed huh? are you warm enough?”

you and ricky made small talk which didn’t bother your best friend. that was until one sentence.

“your hands are freezing y/n!”

riki’s eyes shot up to see the discount ricky’s hands on yours. if stares could kill a man, discount ricky would be six feet under.

“oh! yeah that’s why riki, well, my riki got me hot coco.” you let go of his hand and turned to your hot beverage.

nishimura riki would be lying if he said some pride didn’t bubble up inside him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to you.

riki didn’t take notice and he went back on his phone, he just wanted your project to be over so he could walk back to the car with you and just be away from people. by people he meant discount ricky. this was strike one for his patience.

“i think we should work more on the details of the piece of art itself. like things that normal people look past in monet’s art. there’s a story everywhere.” you suggested, this art project was pretty big for your grade. and you were just relieved that your project partner agreed to do monet.

“that’s such a good idea y/n.” ricky smiled.

oh please riki thought to himself, at that point discount ricky should just get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention. that’d be way less embarrassing than kissing your ass at every little- wait what the hell

to riki’s horror, discount ricky, was readjusting your beanie so your hair didn’t get in your face. this pissed him off, strike two of his patience gone. riki was the one who spent HOURS trying to crochet you that beanie last year and now he’s going to have to make you another one because discount ricky’s grimy hands touched it! riki felt his eye twitch, he ended up making eye contact with the boy next to you. a smirk ghosting his features.

riki wanted to kick his shin under the table or maybe throw his hot coffee-

“i think we should also choose one of monet’s less known works aswe- oh ouch…” you mumbled rubbing your hands, whenever you wrote or sketched too long your hands would hurt. riki always took notice of this so he looked up proper hand massages- safe to say he could be certified- WHAT THE SHIT?

discount ricky grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

strike three

“can you get your hands off her?!” riki finally snapped, “god at this point it’s revolting! i’m right in front of both of you!”

your eyes widened as you watched you best friend actually lose his temper, yeah you’d seen him bicker but this was different.

“what are you two dating?” ricky asked, if you were in a tv show you’d see the angry lightening bolt hit both of them. this was not good, you quickly packed your bags and grabbed your best friend. apologizing to your project partner.

“what’s his fucking problem?!” riki stomped through the fresh snow to your car.

“what’s his problem?! what’s your problem? what the hell was that?! are you okay?!” you had a million questions. and they were flying out.

“i- what- how is this my fault!? he had his grimy discount ricky hands all over you! only i’m allowed to do that as your best friend!”

it was really hard to take him seriously as you finally got to the car laughing. you leaned against the hood trying to catch your breath.

“y/n this isn’t funny!” he stood right next to you.

you finally caught your breath, “i’m sorry where did the nickname discount ricky come from?”

“well obviously i’m the better one way more deserving of, um hello, touching your hair, massaging your hands because im youtube certified, AND THE COLD HANDS THING?! he was flirting with you shamelessly in front of me!” riki swung his arms around like a crazy person trying to explain that the end was near.

your hat fell slightly as you laughed again which riki fixed gently before speaking again, “then he’d smirk at me like he knew he was getting on my nerves! like that discount version of ME KNEW HE WAS MAKING ME ANGRY!”

“should i take my hat off and give you sanitizer? since you touched my discount ricky infected beanie?” you asked, unlocking the car and throwing your backpack in the back. you turned around and bumped into riki.

“actually yeah take off that hat. i will sanitize it and crochet you a new one.” riki grabbed the hat off your head and gave you his own beanie.

“should i sanitize my hands too?” you asked giggling, going to open your door but slipping on black ice.

riki immediately caught you, “um guess who couldn’t catch you- discount ricky. i’m clearly better for you so.”

you started laughing again, hitting his chest playfully, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“is that a bad thing?” riki asked quickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

you shook your head no, “it’s cute.”

riki smiled down at you; it was obvious he was at least a little smug.

“you know what he didn’t contaminate?” you asked, still giggling, your eyes flickered from riki’s eyes to his lips. immediately he got the hint and took his chance.

discount ricky is out and nishimura riki hit a home run

[maxlarens]

requests open?🤭 oh boy here i come!!!

ok so my latest #love is fluffy, adorable, down bad boyfriend!oscar (who is shocked. no one. i feel like i have shouted this from the rooftops). just the sweetest imaginable, always being so vocal about how much he loves and sooo much affection (dying). prompts 33 + 35 from the kissing list had me sighing and crying a little. imagining the whole list tbh but anyway!!! this is so long omfg

whatever you feel like writing with the above description and if you feel like writing nothing feel free to trash this, i can take it hahaha

WAHHH okay!!! i loved 33 but couldn’t find a good way to fit it into this so i did 35🤭 i want to maybe do another one with 33🤨🤨 maybe drunk!oscar babbling about how much he loves u. would be cute.

35) gentle stroking of cheeks while kissing

You and Oscar aren’t particularly prone to PDA, especially not during race weekends. It’s just how the two of you are— you’re weird about cameras being pointed in your face and Oscar likes to stay focused on the driving.

People on the internet think it’s weird. They call into question how much you love him, how much he loves you. They wonder why you’re not at every race, why you don’t post each other on social media much.

You’re a bit baffled by it. You’re also not bothered. Oscar loves you. You know this irrefutably. All your friends know it, all the people you hang out with on a semi-regular basis know it. You don’t think the entire world needs to know it. And besides, if they knew what he was like out of the public eye no one would ever bother to question the two of you—

You’re sitting on the kitchen island, waiting for pasta to boil on the stovetop when Oscar pads in. Wearing an old, oversized hoodie and sweat shorts that have food stains on them. Ones you can’t wash out, not that you’d want to. It’s typical Oscar, shorts when it’s freezing. A hoodie to keep him warm anyway.

“Aren’t you cold?”, you ask, even though you’ve asked the same of him many times before only to get the same answer.

You hold out an arm for him to slot into. He does, half his mouth pulling up into a toothy smile. You put your other arm on his shoulder, pass your thumb back and forth there and let your fuzzy-sock clad feet press into the back of his legs.

“Meh,” he answers, hands going to your waist, “M’fine.”

You sniff, “Okay. But I’m not putting the heating on.”

He scrunches his nose, makes a face, “I didn’t ask.”

“Mm. You will.”

He rolls his eyes jokingly, presses his fingers into your sides and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re cute,” he mutters into your hair, “Have I told you that before?”

You shake your head, pulling him closer. Shifting forward on the counter so you can wrap your arms around him, the hoodie making him soft and squishy.

“Don’t think so,” you laugh.

“Well, you’re very cute.”

“Just cute?”, you ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him.

He shrugs. For a second there’s a tangle of limbs while he moves his hands so they can rest on your face. Long fingers splayed out, touching your neck, your ear. His thumbs press into the squish of your cheeks.

“Just cute,” you prompt, more of a tone to it as he tries to get away with his silly little joke.

He breathes a laugh, looks down at you, his eyes sparkling, “No.”

“What else?”

“Hot,” he offers, “Beautiful.”

You smile, biting down on the inside of your mouth, rubbing the flat palm of your hand across his back. Slipping the other under his hoodie to touch the bare skin at his waist.

“Really?”

He nods, thumb dragging across your cheekbone. As he leans down to you, you feel butterflies in your stomach like the first time you kissed him. Right here in your kitchen— crowded against the same counter.

His lips, warm, soft, meet yours. The kiss deepens quickly, the two of you so in sync that it turns quickly to a slip of tongue and the clink of teeth. You feel something taking up the expanse of your chest, right in your diaphragm. Longing for something you already have, boundless affection. You sigh, a high, whiny quality to it, into Oscar’s mouth.

His thumbs press into and smooth across your cheeks as he pulls you closer, into his solid chest.

“Love you,” he says into your mouth, barely understandable as he guides your head back.

The slip of tongue again, a hand on the back of your head. Pressing into each other like you’re going to disappear under the other’s fingertips. Like you could get so close as to crawl inside one another.

Loveyou, you answer, love you.

send me a prompt/req + a driver and i’ll write something. pls check if my requests are open first💖

[signedkoko]

(separate) lucifer and striker with an s/o who fell from the heavens headcanons!! the more closer they get, the more they realize their s/o was one of the angels on the council but didn’t condone the extermination — of which, they were casted down to hell.

Lucifer | Striker X Reader [Romantic]

In which they know you are a fallen angel, but not the extent to which you protected hell. Reader is genderneutral.

Lucifer could sense your presence quite fast

But only because you weren't an exterminator—no, you were something far stronger

It pained him to see a new angel cast down, the first since he was, bloodied and caught in the fiery pit you'd have to call home

He understood you must have been an angel that came along after him, though, because he didn't recognize you

Either way, Lucifer offered you a place to stay and let you adjust to life in hell through his lens—a safe house where demons couldn't bother you as much

Of course, he also wanted to make sure the news of your existence didn't get out

He could only imagine the kinds of people who might want to get their hands on a fresh angel

Even though he was cast down himself, Lucifer is very flattered that you know him and that you speak so highly of him

You quickly worm your way into his heart, and he loves talking to you a lot about his past and all the things he kept buried within him

Even down here, you still seemed happy, although a tad uneasy

He won't pressure you for your backstory too much, but with his knowledge of heaven he is able to gather that you were at least a mid-ranking angel on the council

Your position exactly, he wasn't sure

He only found out after he spoke about his daughter's plan with the hotel

" Thats a wonderful idea! They may cast me down for demanding an end to extermination, but I won't let them ruin your daughters redemption plans. "

You dropped it so casually that he almost missed it, swooning at how supportive of Charlie you were

Actually chokes

Please give him a moment to catch his breath because, wait, really?

That explains a lot, at least

Of course, heaven would cast down the most beautiful of angels just for being kind to even the most damned beings

That same anger within him roars back to life, both for you being shut down and for how he, too, was treated in heaven

He'd make sure your life was far better here, no matter what it took

Being a fallen angel is already an extremely worrisome background for Striker, especially following his hate for royalty

Not that a fallen angel is royalty, but the power dynamic is hard for him to get over, as guilty as he feels now for holding it against you

When you first met, he saved you from another bounty hunter

Saved is the wrong word

He stole you so he could get a prize himself

But it all backfired when you were just so kind and curious, and offering you up to some terrible people didn't feel like the right move

Striker told himself he'd hold onto you until he knew the true value of an angel, but that may have just been him stalling for time

Either way, your charm worked wonders, and now he was stuck with the most attention-grabbing partner in all of hell

Oh well, he knew he could protect you

While he was curious about your life in heaven, Striker was extremely used to not asking questions about others past

But the more he knew, the more he wanted to know

Every few months, you'd tell a story that revealed a new interesting piece of information, things that made him wonder what you had to have done to be so harshly cast down

It all made sense when he puzzled it together one afternoon, when you were particularly fond of your past memories

" I hope Em isn't in trouble too. "

" Why so? "

" Well, she also thought killing demons was pretty bad... "

" Of course, hun. "

As usual he nods along with you before he freezes and jumps out of his chair

" Hol on now, what? "

Striker is able to puzzle things together fast, and he's not sure if he's more pissed at the angels above you or if he's surprised you felt that way

He'd always assumed no angels thought good of demons, but this changed things

Next extermination, he wants to have a hand at capturing one of those winged fuckers and seeing if he can force some more out of them

Author's Note - DEVIL FINALLY I GOT TO UR REQ!!! More Striker content, love to see it- and ofc Lucifer, who I know is about to be eaten up by every person in this god forsaken community. Thank you for requesting 🖤

[cursedkeyboard]

Funnily enough, I've never been too big of a Jason Todd fan. Not because I don't like him, he's a great character, but because DC fails over and over again to give him justice and treat him right.

The number of times alone this boy has been beaten by his adoptive father, betrayed, and forgotten are far too many, far too much.

And the constant portrayal of Jason as this volatile, violent, mindless man is tiresome, lazy in all senses of the word and overdone. I understand that Jason was unstable after he left the pit, I mean, who wouldn't? The trauma of his death alone could've sent anyone crazy, but then to experience everything else afterwards, including having to come to terms that Bruce not only did not kill his murder but also replaced him, leaving Jason to grieve what was once his and what he should've gotten, of course he'd be less than okay.

Again, I'm not the biggest Jason Todd fan but I do wish more people would see just how much good Jason has in his heart, how kind and gentle he can be once his walls are down, when he's no longer constantly analyzing your actions and wondering why would you bother talking to him, getting closer to him.

In my opinion, a man who is so gentle with children, who constantly gives second, third, and fourth chances to people who don't deserve it, who despite it all still wants to make a change and protect the city that failed him, couldn't possibly be anything but the most caring partner. Not just partner, no, also brother and friend.

We all know what he did to Tim and Damian, there are reasons, such as his mental instability at the time and rage, and though those are not excuses, I believe Jason would still drop everything to go save his family. He might complain, he might brood, but family is something important to him even when just looking at them hurts him. He lost his loving mother, stepmother, far too early and it's not hard to imagine that even with all the pain and grief inside his torn heart, the little boy inside Jason still craves the warmth of a family.

Just look at the way he treats his friends, at the way he helps them through situations no one else would, how caring and attentive he is. Jason is gentle, sure, he is rough and mean and he's got blood on his hands, but Jason is made of love.

Jason was made to be loved.

So I think, whether platonic or romantically, Jason would treat you so well. He'd scold you for not wearing warm clothes during winter, "We're in Gotham, you fucking moron, you wanna freeze to death?", all while wrapping you with his jacket or scarf. He'd make sure you're eating at least something every day, and if not, he would immediately put you under his arm, maybe over his shoulder, and take you to the nearest food chain he could find, "I don't want to hear you complaining about headaches when all you had today was a cup of coffee and gum.".

Lord, he'd be torn between freaking out and being extremely annoyed that you got hurt, be it at work, a fight, or just out of clumsiness. But no matter what, his hands would always be so, so gentle when touching you. The tip of his fingers brushing under the injury, as light as a breeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck, or your bicep, perhaps even your hand just to make sure you're there, with him.

Jason would both hush you gently, "I know, sweetheart, we're almost done.", and also tease because he's a little shit at heart, "If you had a little more awareness than a ten year old this wouldn't have happened, idiot."

And physical touches? Oh, love, Jason is a sucker for intimacy.

I know for a fact he wouldn't be comfortable for a long time with anyone in his personal space due to the torture he went through. The trauma would make his skin crawl any time someone got too close or brushed past him, he'd hate it so much because it makes him weak but also because he can't let anyone try to hug him without feeling sick to his stomach.

And with you it's no different. It would take a long time, a lot of trust being built up, conflict and confessions, maybe he'd even open up to you with his head on your lap as you brushed his hair softly, a big, big step for him after years of not letting anyone close. He'd tell you about the Joker, about having hope in Bruce, about his biological mother. And he'd feel vulnerable like a child when you wipe his tears gently without a word.

Once he starts craving your touch, though, regardless if you two have a platonic or romantic relationship, Jason is putty in your hands. Forehead kisses when you part ways, cuddling on the couch while he reads and you're on your phone, thighs touching when sitting close, even a little bit of hand holding when he's stressed and needs to play with your fingers.

He's like a big cat that's constantly making his way onto your chest, stealing your breath and making biscuits on your skin, making sure you're giving him sufficient pats every day.

It's a little part of him that he's barely able to properly allow space for. There's still so much hurt in Jason, so much confusion and desperation, hatred and upset, that he'd probably still close off sometimes, try acting tough so you'd see how fucked up he is, how he's not truly worth of your love.

And yet.

And yet all it'd take for him to go soft and pliant in your hands would be a single touch, cupping his cheeks, brushing his skin softly with your thumbs, right under his pretty emerald eyes, making sure his gaze is on you and only you. Just like that, he'd slump his shoulders and bring you into his arms, breathing a sigh of relief and squeezing you close, your heartbeats synching.

He wouldn't remember when he started feeling safest in your arms but it'd feel like it was since forever. Like there was no one else but you.

Jason was made to be loved, though he is a little broken and a little tainted, lost like a child and hateful like a sinner, your love might just be his salvation, something he's greedy for, selfish for, even when he's so hesitant of somehow hurting you.

[kittievampire]

Could you maybe make a short fic of M/C plus yandere (preferably, Mammon) where at first it's non-consensual, but as the time goes on she gets manipulated into thinking it's all for love? I also think he should baby-trap her and do all kinds of shit to force her to stay with him.

Oh, my darling, of course!

I've been dabbling in the yandere smut side of the Obey Me fandom and HOLY SHIT it's INTENSE

Especially for my first love, Mammon-sama, I'll do anything for my sweet greedy boy 🥺🥺🥺

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Mine

Warnings: Dark Themes, Slight Gore (if you squint), Violence, Murder, Manipulation, Obsession, Yandere! Mammon x Reader, Dom! Mammon x Sub! Reader, Virgin! Reader, Cursing, Panty Stealing, Masturbation, Smut, Breeding Kink, Teasing, Baby-Trapping, Creampie, Reader gets gagged, Mating press, Non-Con/Rape to Dub-Con

🚨READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY TAGS🚨

Enjoy.

Honestly, he couldn't tell you when it all started.

Probably when you'd first gotten here and he was told that he would be responsible for taking care of you. Yes, that sounds right.

It was then that these emotions started. These feelings toward you, the compulsive need to be by your side at every waking hour of the day. Hell, you'd have to kick him out of your room most nights just to get some privacy.

You were just so perfect.

Something about the way you spoke, the way you handled things, the way you carried yourself. He couldn't help but love all of it. All of you. He'd memorized every little thing you'd shared with him throughout the time you'd been in the Devildom, noticing whenever you cut your hair by even an inch or the slightest shift in your attitude to know when you were upset.

And when you were upset, he always needed to know why.

So he could get rid of your problem, of course.

If you were upset with one of his brothers, he'd go speak with them about it (as long as it's not Lucifer), if you were upset over failing to comprehend something mathematical, he'd explain it to you in five different ways to try and help, and if you were upset with someone the two of you don't consider close friends, he'd console you.

There was this one time, however, when consoling you wasn't enough. Not for him, at least. The first time these thoughts became more aggressive and obsessive. The first time he became truly dangerous.

_

Mammon narrowed his eyes at you, pulling his shades off so he could see you properly. "He did what?" He asked. It was more like he was demanding you to repeat what you said.

You hesitated for a moment before clasping your hands together and smiling. "He broke my D.D.D. and cursed me out for being a human." You sighed, shaking your head in disappointment. "It's alright, though. I'll ask Lucifer if I can get a replacement."

Mammon really only paid attention to the first sentence. He bit down on the arms of the shades in his hand and scoffed. "See, this is why ya should just keep someone around. As the Great Mammon, I shouldn't be botherin' myself with taking care of ya." He extended his hand, holding out an index finger so you couldn't interrupt him. "But, because ya really need it, I'll go ahead and be your personal bodyguard or whatever." He huffed out, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

You furrowed your brows. "Oh, thanks, Mammon, but I really don't want to bother you with this kind of thing. I really don't need 24-hour protection, I just really wish people like him would learn from their mistakes."

Oh, you were so forgiving. He couldn't help the way his heart pounded against his chest at the way you spoke so kindly about the bastard who broke your property.

He should kill him.

Mammon flinched, dropping his shades and freezing in place at the idea.

Something you need to know about Mammon is that he's not really a violent guy. Of course, he acts like a relatively tough guy, and his title as the second strongest sin in the Devildom wasn't just given to him because the king was feeling generous. He just never resorted to violence immediately, it wasn't the Mammon Way.

Now, though, there was another factor to account for in this equation of his.

You.

While his title made demons fear him enough to where he didn't need to act on any of his anger, he found it very difficult to stop his knuckles from twitching whenever he saw someone you as much as complained about.

However, he'd never thought about murder. At least, not so seriously. This was different. The image that appeared in his head was the demon you were talking about, chained to the back of his car by the neck, and being dragged all around the Devildom. Then, he'd kill him slowly. Maybe set him on fire, too. Yes, that sounded nice.

"Mammon!" You called out, snapping him away from his thoughts. You tilted your head. "Are you okay? You kinda blanked out there." You ask, placing a hand on his cheek to get him to look at you.

Mammon flinches at your touch, a dark blush forming on his cheeks. "O-Oi! I'm alright, human, now get your hand off'a me!" He gently grasped your wrist, shuddering in delight at the feeling of holding you.

You raised a brow, pulling your hand away. "If you say so... Well, Asmodeus wanted me to help him out in Majolish, so I'll head over there. You have a make-up class, don't you?" You ask playfully. Mammon scoffed. "Oh, come on! Ya don't gotta rub it in, MC. Ya jerk." You laughed a little. "That's what you get for skipping classes. I'll see you later, Mammoney."

_

He was there.

The bastard was there.

Mammon was a few seats away from the guy you were talking about earlier. The guy who broke your property and made you upset. He wasn't paying attention to the lecture, no, he was watching the demon. Staring. Glaring.

The scene that presented itself to him before, among many others, appeared in his head. Many of them were at the same levels of gruesome. The thought of getting rid of someone for you was a little nerve-wracking but satisfying nonetheless. It felt right.

After all, he was no longer an angel. And this was a lower demon, a being of impurity. That means that whatever happens to him down here, he deserves it, right?

This is what Mammon tried telling himself when he dragged the large black bag all the way to his room. The only one who saw him was Beelzebub, but the Avatar of Gluttony was busy with takeout, so he didn't really take the time to try and understand the situation.

Mammon was a little relieved that you weren't home to see this. At the same time, though, he did want you to know that he was looking out for you. You should be grateful that the Mammon is so adamant about protecting you!

"Say, ya think she might actually say yes if I ask her out? I dunno if I wanna do it now, but, I mean... Ah, who am I kiddin'? I'll wait a little while longer. It's too soon, don't ya think?" He asked, making another clean cut to the demon's torso.

The demon had stopped thrashing hours ago. There was blood everywhere, but the Avatar of Greed wasn't sloppy, so he'd placed a cheap mat underneath the chair that his classmate was tied to, planning to throw it away later. Even so, he became irritated when he got no response.

"Oi, I'm tryin' to ask for some serious advice. Ain't ya a demon? Why are ya dyin' so fuckin' quick, huh?" He seethed, glaring up at the lifeless expression that the demon before him adopted. He sliced an exposed arterie and scoffed. "Pathetic. I dunno why I bothered asking shit from a bastard like you anyway."

_

He refers to that kill as his "first slip."

Mammon had multiple "slips" after that, all of which he convinced himself were for your sake. Demons were going missing left and right. Of course, you didn't notice, because you were so naive. So oblivious. So cute.

You would never suspect Mammon to be the culprit, right? He was your sweet Mammoney. He'd do anything to keep it that way.

While he was growing to love you, more than he healthily should, he still couldn't build up the courage to talk to you. Confess to you.

You'd better believe he tried though.

The first time he did after he'd taken up his new "hobby" was during passing period at RAD. He had you caged between the wall and his chest, both hands on the wall to stop you from leaving. "Hey, human. I gotta tell you something really important, okay?"

Mammon had made up his mind to tell you then and there. However, now that he was right in front of you, now that he could see the way your expression seemed to glow in his presence, the way it made his heart beat so rapidly, he just... couldn't! "What's up?" You ask dumbly after a few moments of silence. He bit his lip for a moment before sighing. "Uh... Actually, I'll tell ya later. I just remembered I had to go do... Something, I'll cya around, MC." Then, he scurried, leaving you standing there all dumbfounded.

Curse his lack of bravery!

You were just so perfect, he couldn't bare the thought of you rejecting him.

His thoughts were swarming his brain. Thoughts of you. He would think often about how your hands would feel caressing his cheek. How soft your lips would feel against his. How tight your pussy would feel around his cock.

That last bit was, by far, the most popular thought in his head. He'd think about it when he had his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking and bucking his hips into his fist.

He'd imagine you underneath him, moaning and writhing while getting pounded into. The thought of you in such a fucked out state was just so delicious. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

But he still couldn't muster up the courage to tell you how he felt. So, he just settled for the next best thing.

Your panties.

When it was his turn to do laundry for the House of Lamentation's residents, he found a pair of white panties stained at the crotch. He lifted them up a bit closer for inspection and caught a whiff of the scent the pair of panties was emitting.

Your scent, your juices.

Your cum.

It was your cum.

Immediately, he felt himself hunch forward, clutching the nearly drenched panties in his fist as he slammed the door to the laundry room shut. He took a moment to process, a dark blush dusting his face as he held your panties in his shaking hand.

Mammon swallowed the lump of saliva he felt pooling in his mouth, staring at the crotch of your underwear, feeling his pants becoming a little too tight. "Fuck," He muttered out, quickly moving to undo his belt, sloppily pushing down his pants below his crotch, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. Immediately, he started pumping himself, desperation evident when he started to buck his hips into his hand.

He caught another wiff of your scent and groaned, hunching over as he pressed his back against the wall. "MC," He moaned out, loving the way your name sounded rolling off of his tongue. He imagined you calling his name as well.

Whining and writhing underneath him as he pushed your legs apart.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck." He slammed his fist against the door, keeping his glazed eyes on your underwear. He imagined entering you. Your warmth would welcome him inside of your pussy and your walls would clench.

If only he had your warmth around him.

Flinching, his gaze shifted over to the clenched fist that was pressing against the door, your white panties being squeezed in his grip. He moved his hand, adjusting the pair of panties so the crotch was easily accessible, pushing it against the tip of his cock.

Mammon hissed when he felt your juices push against him, shuddering at the feeling. You must've put your dirty laundry basket in the laundry room the same day you masturbated. It was still relatively warm, and that was enough to make him imagine how your pussy would feel.

Wrapping your wet panties around his cock, he started bucking his hips, grinding himself against the crotch. He let out small pants and groans at the feeling, his hips beginning to stutter as he felt a knot begin to tighten in his lower stomach.

So good, so good.

He closed his hazy eyes, imagining how you'd start to squirm beneath him as he pounded into you, whining and crying out that you were close to an orgasm. "MC, fuck, baby, you're so fucking good for me," He hissed out. His hips never stopped bucking into your panties. Precum started oozing out of the tip of his cock, and he was smearing it against your underwear. "All mine," He murmured out softly.

The second-born clenched his teeth as his hand gripped the door knob, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten even more. The warmth that your panties provided, the visual in his head, and the sound that he'd imagine you'd made when you came; a mix between a whimper and a moan. It was enough to make his eyes go wide, a stuttered groan escaping his lips as he hunched forward a little.

Thick white ropes shot out of the tip of his cock, landing ontop of the juices that had already stained your panties. He inhaled sharply, covering his mouth as if to save whatever dignity he had left.

Slowly coming down from his high, Mammon panted heavily into his palm, a cheeks red, and vision still blurry from his orgasm. It made him wonder how hard he'd cum if you were there. If it was you wrapped around his cock instead of your panties.

But he'd take what he can get, he wasn't too picky when it came to you.

That's why he started stealing your panties, among other things. When your underwear wasn't enough, small trinkets and pieces of jewelry would go missing, only to be replaced by the Avatar of Greed himself. He loved to see the smile on your face as you looked at him, he loved to hear you thank him for gifting you such things.

You were so cute.

Too cute for your own good.

You mean so much to him. Too much for him to let you go.

He doesn't want you to leave. Ever.

_

Your eyes were always something he admired. He loved staring and getting lost in your gaze, trying to determine exactly which shade of which color painted your irises. He especially loved it when both of you got lost in the others' gaze. Inevitably, one of you would blush and look away.

What he hated was the way you looked at him right now.

Fear was present in your eyes. Tears started to gather on your lower lash line as your bottom lip trembled. "Mammon?"

Normally, he loved it when you said his name. It was like music to his ears, sweet like honey. However, this time, he flinched at the hesitation in your voice.

Of course, he couldn't blame you for being scared.

You'd been waiting in his room, unbeknownst to the white-haired demon, and he walked into his room covered in blood. That, and the horror that was the bloody bags you found in his closet.

His movements were quick. In the blink of an eye, he stood before you, slamming the door shut. He towered over you, the almost-dried blood that had been splattered all over his body was now right in your face. Leather black wings lifted and caged you into the corner by the closet, the leather on his body, as well as his horns becoming more apparent the more you took in his figure. "Ain't anyone taught ya not to go snoopin' around in other people's shit?"

You flinched at his tone. He seemed angry. That's when a tear fell. "Mammon, what the hell was that?" You ask, voice trembling along with your body. The demon before you was in no better state. He was panicking on the inside, trying desperately to form an explanation in his head. This caused him to stare intensely at you, eyes bloodshot, bat-like wings flapping gently beside you.

"S'just some of the trash that bothered ya, Treasure." Mammon's voice shifted from frightening to sweet, a huge contrast to his bloodied and demonic appearance. The new nickname made you shiver. Under other circumstances, you would've loved the fact that he'd given you a nickname, but you were too terrified. The nickname sounded so wrong to you. So twisted. "Most of them either acted out of line around ya, but some actually thought they had a chance!" He smiled, letting out a huff of amusement. "As if those lesser demons had the right to even look in your direction." He took a step forward, and you took a step back, your back now pressed against the wall.

This made Mammon frown a bit, bat wings flapping in slight irritation and confusion. "Why're ya backin' away from me, Treasure? I thought that... I thought that you'd be happy to know that they're gone," One hand pressed against the wall behind you while the other made it's way to your hip. "Aren't ya happy that they're not in our way anymore?" He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear.

"Our?" You repeated. "What are you talking about our, Mammon?" He sighed, the hand on your hip traveling down to caress your thigh. "Us, Treasure. Our relationship, our love."

You closed your eyes tightly when he leaned in, lips brushing against your cheek as his voice dropped in volume. "Don't you love me, MC?" He asked softly, feigning an almost hurt voice.

You allowed a few more tears to fall as you pressed your palms against his chest. While it was true, you did love him very deeply, you just couldn't condone this. You weren't okay with this! Killing people for someone else isn't love!

Right?

"Mammon, you can't... You don't do this kind of thing for love," You said, hands trembling against him. His hand moved from the wall to grasp yours, clenching your fingers tight as he let a shiver run down his spine. He let out a deep sigh in bliss, feeling his cock twitch in his pants from your touch. "MC, Treasure, I love ya. I love ya so much." He then gripped your wrist, pushing your hand downward.

You flinched when your hand reached the bulge in his pants, fingers gently tracing the outline of his cock. "Baby, look at what ya do to me." He softly breathed out, turning your hand to push your palm against his hard on, his other hand gripping your thigh as he started bucking his hips into your hand. "MC, I love ya. I just wanted to make ya feel better," He looked down at you, the hand squeezing your thigh being used to lift up your chin so your eyes could meet his. "I got rid of the trash that was botherin' ya, babe."

You shook your head, trying to pull your hand away from his pants. Mammon's grip only tightened, an odd feeling beginning to pool in your gut. "Mammon, this isn't how you- Mmh!" He cut you off, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Your lips were so soft, he couldn't hold back the moan that escaped him as he started moving his lips against yours. His teeth started nibbling your bottom lip to ask for entry. When you tried to pull away from him, he let out a scoff, the hand that was on your chin moving to slap your thigh.

You opened your mouth to let out a gasp, only for Mammon's tongue to invade your mouth. He bucked his hips into your hand once more, his tongue exploring your mouth and burning your taste into his memory.

He moved his hands, pulling away from the heated kiss so his lust-filled eyes could meet yours. "That's right... I guess I should be showin' ya how much ya mean to me in other ways, huh?"

_

Mammon had pushed you onto his bed, climbing on top of you and capturing your lips in another hot kiss as he started to tug your clothes off. He was truly a being of pure greed, he couldn't get enough of you. He wanted more. And he wanted more now.

You pulled away as soon as you felt your breasts come into contact with the rather chilly air and threw your arms over your chest. "Mammon, wait, please! I don't want this!" You whimpered, tears beginning to stain your cheeks.

Mammon leaned in, one hand hooking around your skirt as he kissed you on the forehead. "But you love me, don't you, MC? I'll treat ya right, I promise." He brought a hand up to gently grasp your wrist, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I love ya so much, MC. Everything I do's for you, Treasure. The way I feel about ya, it makes me do crazy things," He murmured softly against your hand. "Please don't deny me."

His tone of voice made you think that maybe he was telling the truth, that maybe he did love you deeply, and that was why he went so far. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

No!

You snapped out of your hazy love-drunk mindset, realizing that the now-dried blood was still splattered all over him. It was someone else's blood. Maybe they were innocent! Well, they weren't if they were down here, but still! They didn't do anything to warrant such acts of violence.

With a swift motion, he yanked down your RAD skirt and panties, eyes shifting down to catch a glimpse of you. You tried to close your legs, but Mammon had managed to catch both of your plush thighs in his grip, pulling them apart and closer to him. Your ass was now on his lap, and your pussy was closer to his waist. He smiled at you, almost tauntingly. "None of that, baby," He pulled you closer to him, your pussy now a few mere inches from his face. Mammon took in the sweet aroma you gave off, letting out a deep sigh in bliss. This was so much better than your panties.

Suddenly, the pact mark on the back of your hand glowed a bright yellow. "Mammon, sto-"

He was faster.

Before you could finish your command, Mammon had torn a piece of fabric from your teal RAD under-blouse, pushing it against your lips to silence you. "Naughty girl." His voice dropped an octave as he glared at you. You had practically been folding in half with how close your knees were to your shoulders. The Avatar of Greed then adjusted the fabric in your mouth, pulling on the sides and tying it in a tight knot around your mouth. "I didn't want to gag ya, sweetheart," He cooed, shifting himself into his former position: where your pussy was a few inches from his mouth and your thighs were in his hands. "But ya just had to be such a brat. Playin' hard to get can get annoyin', ya know that?" His tongue lulled out of his mouth. He maintained eye contact with you as he lowered his face, dipping his tongue into your sopping heat and tracing the line of your slit. You moaned into the makeshift gag, arms trembling as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching behind your head to try and untie the gag.

Mammon flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves that rested above your slit, smiling at the way you squirmed and whined. You knew this was wrong. He was a demon, and you were okay with that, but now you found out that he was a killer as well? No, you couldn't be okay with this. You shouldn't be okay with this.

But it feels so good.

You threw your head back and let out a muffled cry as his mouth latched on to your opening, thrusting his tongue into your heat. Your walls clenched around his tongue, and he let out a moan in response. He wondered how tight you'd be around his cock if you were this tight around his tongue. It made him think that perhaps you hadn't had anything inside of this pretty little hole of yours.

Wait.

Mammon pulled away from your pussy, a mix of his saliva and your juices dribbling down his chin. "MC, are you a virgin?" He asked softly, gold and blue eyes piercing through yours.

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and nodded your head slowly. The sound of wings flapping rapidly filled your ears, which made your eyes screw shut.

He'd be the first to touch you, the first to defile you. He was your first demon, now he'll truly be your first man. "Oh, Treasure." He lowered your body almost completely onto the bed, and your eyes shot wide open when you heard him fumbling with his belt.

You looked down to see his cock, flushed and hard, resting on top of your crotch.

He was huge.

Where he sat between your legs, his cock reached just above your navel. "M'sorry," He said softly, grasping his cock and stroking it a few times. "I can't wait any longer, Treasure. I have to have you before anyone else can."

You froze for a moment, realizing what he meant. You should've shaken your head or done something to deny him, to stop him.

But you didn't want to stop. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to ravish your pussy, love you until he withers away. You pushed your head against the pillow, lifting your hands to grip the sheets beside your head, and spreading your legs open a little more.

"That's my girl," He cooed, pressing the blunt tip of his cock against your hole. You closed your eyes once more, trying to concentrate on breathing as he pushed himself into you. He was slow and sweet, pressing kisses to your neck. "Calm down, Treasure, I don't wanna hurt ya." His voice, so soft, so sweet, made you forget completely about why you were so against this at first.

Mammon grunted at how tight you were, his eyes glazed over. He was trying so hard to hold himself back. You were just so fucking tight. He let out a shaky breath, one hand going down to caress your thigh. "Loosen up, Doll," He cooed once more, clenching his teeth. He was so close to bottoming out, but your hole continued to deny him.

Tears had fallen down your face, staining your cheeks and the fabric that gagged you. You were in an entire different state of mind. The stretch hurt, but knowing that it was Mammon stretching out your cunt made your body feel more at ease.

When he shoved the last few inches of his cock inside of you, you couldn't hold back the muffled wail that escaped your throat. Finally, he was sheathed inside of you. His balls were rested against your plush thighs, and his tip pushed against your cervix.

"Fuck!" Mammon grunted out, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing quickened. You tried so hard to focus on breathing, focus on calming down so it'd be less uncomfortable for you.

Mammon stilled, and you took that as a sign of him waiting for you to signal him to move. He wanted to take off the gag and hear your beautiful moans, but he couldn't risk you using your pact to stop him. He couldn't risk losing the chance to share his love with you.

While he was in his own head, he failed to notice your squirms and whines, replacing the pleas that you'd let out if you weren't gagged. However, his lack of movement made you impatient, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding the tip of his cock against your the spot that made you see stars. Mammon's breathing hitched, immediately gripping your hips with his hands and looking up at you with a shocked expression.

Then, the surprised look turned into a smug one. "Just can't get enough'a me, can ya?" He teased, dragging his hips backward. You could feel him moving and thought he was pulling out of you. You were about to whine in protest, but you got the air knocked out of your lungs as he slammed into you, his cock pushing roughly against that same exact spot. He started thrusting into you, looking down at your pussy to see how well it swallows his cock, as well as how much of your juices can be seen (and heard). "You're like a waterfall down there, MC. I knew ya loved me, I knew it! All those demons weren't a waste of time after all!" He exclaimed excitedly, picking up the pace to align with the hype of his voice.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt him repeatedly pound into you, balls slapping against the plush of your thighs at his deep and quick thrusts. "So good! So good for me, baby," He threw his head back, letting out a groan as he felt you squeezing the hell out of his length.

Suddenly, he pulled the fabric from your lips so it rested around your neck. "Mammon!" You cried out immediately. He only grunted in response and grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them up toward you so your knees were inches from your shoulders. "Fuck, Treasure, so— mMmh!— T-Tight!" He huffed out, mind feeling a bit hazy.

All he could think of was you. How much he loved you, how much he wanted to be with you. He wanted so badly for you to love him too. Now that he had you, now that he deflowered you, the Avatar of Greed couldn't stop there. He wanted more. And, in his sin, will he indulge.

If he got you pregnant, you wouldn't leave. You'd be attached to him no matter what.

The thought made his cock twitch and his hips stutter for a moment before regaining a rhythm, albeit faster than the one he'd adopted prior.

"M'gonna make sure—" He adjusted your legs in his grip— "You never even think 'bout leavin' me!" Mammon growled out, feeling the familiar knot in his lower abdomen beginning to form. By the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him, he could tell that you were almost at your peak too. "Gonna make you a mama," He purred out, rocking his hips into yours.

Your eyes widened at this, gripping the sheets even harder as you cried out. "Mammon! P-Pull o-out!" Your whimpers fell upon deaf ears. That, or ears that only heard what they wanted to. "You wanna have my baby, MC? Hm?" He asked, voice as sweet as vanilla, thrusts as sharp and hard as a blade. "Can't wait to—" He hissed as your walls constricted around him once more— "See the look on their faces! When they see you," Mammon chuckled darkly at the thought, greed, love, and obsession overwhelming his senses. "They'll see that you're all mine! I'll kill whoever gets in the way or disagrees! You're mine, MC!" One final thrust to that sweet spot of yours and you cum hard with a cry of his name, legs trembling in his grip.

Mammon couldn't stop. He couldn't stop going until he filled you up, painted your walls with his seed, and permanently intertwined your fates. "Mine! Mine, mine, mine! All mine! Only mine!" He growled out, burying himself deep into the warmth of your cunt and spilling his seed inside of you. He let out a lewd groan, rocking his hips gently to ride out his orgasm as much as possible.

Once the both of you came down from your highs, he pulled out of you, pressing small kisses to your tear-stained face. He lowered your legs to put you in a more comfortable position, wings and horns fading away as he pulled you flush to his chest.

In your exhausted state, you weren't able to think properly. "I t-told you... To... What if I... Get..." You muttered out, eyelids feeling heavy.

Mammon pressed a soft and warm kiss to your lips, one filled with love and care. "Shhh, sleep, Treasure. Ya did so good for me."

Maybe it was the way his words were sweet and stuck to you like honey. Maybe it was the way that he expressed so many times during this exchange that he truly did love you.

Whatever it was, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that the Avatar of Greed wanted you out of everything else in the world. Every valuable item, every treasure to be found, all he'd be willing to give up just for you.

He'd give for you, but he'd also take for you.

The lives of the demons he'd taken so far couldn't be ignored. At least, you shouldn't have ignored it. But he did it all for you. All because he just wanted you to notice him, to love him, and only him.

Eventually, you'd become accustomed to the blood on his clothes, the protectiveness, the obsession with keeping you close to him even though you never planned on leaving.

You didn't need anything else. You didn't want anything else.

All you needed was your first man.

This was fun to write, I hope you greedy-boi lovers enjoyed this!

My friend looked at the tags over my shoulder and said "Why are you like this?"

Thanks for requesting, I hope you enjoyed this, anon!

[helaelaemond]

For your Kinktober, may I please request Billy fucking his ex-girlfriend? They see each other again somewhere (maybe a party with mutual friends). Clothed sex, some dry humping if possible, Billy being possessive. You can make this dark if you want. Thank you, ily ♡

HELAELAEMOND'S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Billy Washington x ex girlfriend!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: it's the first time you've seen Billy since you've been back in the UK. It's an old friend's engagement party, and the love of your life - the one you lost - is there.

Part of It's All For You Billy!verse - reader and Billy were childhood friends, and on the cusp of adulthood, they took their friendship to a deep and meaningful love. However, as the years went by, reader tried harder and harder to build a better life despite life pushing back, whilst Billy let it overwhelm him. Despite their good relationship, reader wanted more from life than what he could offer, and she took a job overseas that he couldn't follow her to. In the years apart, he found Becky, and things got worse. Much worse. Cransted happened two years ago now, and reader is back in London, ready to continue her better life.

Dry humping, breast worship/nipple play, praise, penetrative sex

Content warning(s): infidelity, rough sex, choking, spitting, dubcon elements, angst

KINK CATEGORIES: Infidelity, clothed sex, possessiveness

Rating: E

Masterlist

"Hey, here she is!"

You laugh in delight as the front door is opened by your old friend Tommy, and he throws his arms around you. "Alright, mate?"

"God, you're a sight for sore eyes! Come on in! Party's started!"

You remember this house. It's where your afterprom happened, ten years ago now. In the front room is where Billy kissed you for the first time. Tommy used to live here with his parents, but they sold it to him a few years ago for a steal, and so it's here that his engagement party is happening. How so much can change. How so much stays the same.

His girlfriend - no, fiancée - is one of your old friends, too, and Sofia greets you. She remarks on how much the Balearics have agreed with you and you laugh at the praise. You hand her the bottle of prosecco you've come armed with and she thanks you cheerful. Together, you go to the kitchen and begin pouring it into plastic flutes. She tasks you with passing them round the guests, many of whom you know from back in the day, and you do it happily.

It's been years since you've seen most of them, but here in this house, in this time of joy, it feels like no time has passed at all. All the faces blur into one after a while. It's nice, but it's also a little overwhelming. Thankfully, most people are gathered in the kitchen and garden, and you slip into the front room for a moment of solitude. Without looking, you close the door and press your forehead against it to take in a deep breath.

"Oh. Um. Hi."

You freeze.

It's him.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Swallowing, you turn around and plaster a stiff smile on your face. "Billy! Hi!"

There's a can of Stella in his hands and he's doing his best to appear relaxed on the sofa, but the way that he taps the top of it gives him away. "How's it going?"

You could die right there, you really could. After everything, he's asking... how it's going? "It's good, it's good!" The sweetness in your voice is sticky. "Just got back, so it's kind of crazy, moving into a new place, you know, but it's exciting!"

"Hmm." He lifts his eyebrows as he nods slightly. "Yeah, heard you were back. Mum told me you stopped by hers looking for me."

You grit your teeth. Hopefully, your smile doesn't turn to a grimace. "I didn't know where else to look. And as you blocked me on everything, there wasn't much else I could do."

"You didn't have to look for me."

"I can go, if my presence is really bothering you." This is not the Billy that you missed - bitter, miserable. This is the one you tried to stop him from becoming. Maybe the old Billy is in there somewhere, but...

"Wait!" Your hand is on the doorknob when he stands up suddenly. "No, don't. I'm sorry. I just... it's a bit much."

"I didn't know you were in here, I swear," you reply softly. "I just needed a moment to myself."

He nods in understanding. "Sit with me. I won't be a dick, I promise."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep." But your words are kinder now, the grimace gone. You sit down on the sofa together, and he offers you his can. You take a grateful sip from it. It's bitter. You haven't had a Stella since you left him. God, the taste makes a whole world rush back. The tears in your eyes are sudden and stinging; you blink them away as best you can.

"I regretted it for a long time, you know?"

"What did you regret, Billy?"

His head is against the back of the sofa and his eyes are closed. The slope of his throat is smooth, the line of his Adam's apple so familiar. Memories of kissing him there flood your mind, making it hard to concentrate. His hair is the same as it always was, dusky blond and soft, flopping over his forehead. How sweet he used to sound when you pulled it.

"Not trying harder for you."

"Oh, Billy-"

"I shouldn't have let you go."

"It's all in the past now."

Licking his lips, he looks over at you. "Is it?"

You nod sadly. "Too much has happened."

"Like what?" And then, he takes the beer from your hand and puts it on the floor, and his knuckles brush your thigh. "Looking at you now feels like before."

You stand up as anger rises in you, sadness, too. "It's a memory you want, not a future."

"No, it's not."

"I know you, Billy. You want something that's easy, and memories are easier than reality."

"Don't be like that."

You face him, standing in front of him, and any softness has left you now. "I know about Becky, Billy. I know about it all."

He looks down. He's not wearing a ring. "I don't wanna talk about that."

The thin grasp on your emotions breaks. "I waited for you! When I left you, I told you that one day, I'd come back, and until then, I'd wait for you! That I'd build a life for myself that you can be a part of if you waited for me, too! And you didn't wait!"

"I wanted to. But-"

"But what?"

"How could I have believed someone better wouldn't come along?"

You blink and straighten up. "You wanted someone better?"

"No!" he says in alarm. "No, I mean someone better for you! God, I mean, look at you! You're... you're everything, and I'm just... just-"

"You were everything to me, Billy. And I waited, I fucking waited. There's been no one since you, not even a date. And yet I come back home after building the life I promised you, to find that you're married and with a kid!"

His eyes are getting red. He licks his lips and nods almost nervously. "Yeah, I'm married. To a woman I don't love, with a kid that's gonna grow up to hate me."

"Is that supposed to make me pity you?"

"I don't need anyone's pity, least of all yours."

With his words ringing in your ears, you turn on your heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. He kissed you for the first time in that room. It's not the first time he's broken your heart, though.

Sofia catches you on her way to the loo, and sees the anger in your face. She drags you upstairs into her bedroom, and you tell her about Billy. She comforts you, reassuring you that yes, this is her engagement party, but you're her friend, and she doesn't mind that you need her now.

When Billy appears in the doorway, she stands in front of you protectively. Assuring her it's alright, she reluctantly leaves you to it.

"But if you make her cry," she warns on her way out, "I will castrate you, William."

The use of his proper name makes you smile faintly. But then his gaze is on you and you're alone again, and he locks the door and it makes you shiver.

He locks the door.

He locks the door.

"What more is there possibly to say?" you ask defensively.

"I need you to understand."

"Understand what?"

This time, it's you that's sitting and him who's looming over you. He's so fucking tall, it could kill you. He used to be so heavy atop you, and you used to wonder if he would crush you. What a way to go, you used to think.

"What happened with Becky."

"Why do you want me to understand?"

He looks at you darkly. "You know."

And you do. It sends a thrill through you. "Then talk."

"The day you left, it's like... it's like something died. I knew you'd have this great life, and I'd never be a part of it again, and that killed me. Do you get that? You were the best part of me, and you left."

"I told you I'd come-"

He holds up his hand to silence you, and you hate how easily it works. His hand is so big. It used to wrap so easily around your throat. You swallow.

"So I fucked my way through the next year to forget you. And you know what? Every single girl I got drunk enough to fuck turned into you. I don't know how many of them heard me say your name. Every single one of them had the same colour hair as you, so when I took them from behind, I could imagine you."

It should make you sick. It's warped, but it makes heat bolt between your legs.

"Then Becky came along. Opposite of you. She looks nothing like you, acts nothing like you, too. We hated each other, but loved each other, too. You and me, we... we were stable. Steady. Becky offered something different. We shouldn't have stayed together, and we broke up for a bit, but then... Cransted."

"You don't have to talk about that." Your voice is softer now. "Your mum told me everything."

"No, no, it's good for me to talk about. That's what Lana says. And my therapist." He takes in a deep breath and continues. "I wasn't ready to die. And in that car, so many thoughts were running through my head. Of course, you were one of them."

You look down at your hands in your lap. What can you possibly say to that?

"Me and Becky got married a month after that. I didn't know what else to do with myself, and we were both fucking scared. We weren't careful and she got pregnant."

"You always wanted to be a dad."

"With the right woman, yeah." He sinks to his knees in front of you, and it's impossible not to notice his dark expression.

'You shouldn't talk like that. She's your wife."

"I wish she wasn't."

He rests his forheead on your bare knee. He pushes the skirt of your dress up. It makes your thighs tense. "Don't."

"I'll do whatever I want."

You stand up angrily. You'll leave him here just like you did in the living room, you don't care-

Before you can unlock the door, Billy presses you against it, his face inches from yours. "You didn't want anyone else but me, did you?"

"That's over now."

"No, it's not." He presses his knee between your thighs and you try not to shiver at the pressure.

"Let me go, Billy!" You hit his chest and try to push him away, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head.

"You belong to me, don't you?"

"I belong to myself!"

"If that's true, why didn't you look for anyone else? It's been years, baby."

God, how much you used to love that pet name. He'd call you his baby girl, his pretty thing, his sweetheart, while you sucked his cock like you needed it to breathe. Even now, it makes you suck in air.

"Because I was waiting. There's nothing to wait for anymore."

"Liar." And then his lips are on your neck. He lifts up his leg, and your hips grind down. It's instintive. It's desperate.

"Fuck you," you whimper.

"That's it," he encourages. "Let me give you what you need."

"I don't need anything from you."

"Hmm. Such an attitude now." One of his large hands easily pins both of yours above your head, and the other wraps around your neck. Slender fingers find their old place against the vein under your skin, and he presses against it until you feel light-headed. Your eyes droop slightly, and he lets go with a smug smile. "That's it, baby. You gonna admit you want this, now?"

"I don't."

"Don't say that," he whispers against your ear. "It makes my dick hard."

Shivers go through you again. You grind harder against his thigh. "You're sick in the head."

"Sick for you."

"What about your wife?"

And then, he kisses you.

It's rough and deep, his tongue on the inside of your teeth, his lips hard and demanding. You both moan, both your hearts are racing. He forgets about the hand keep you in place, and instead, he uses both of his to yank down the neckline of your dress.

"Fuck, look at you." It's uncomfortable for a moment as he pushes your bra down, but you shrug your shoulders free of the straps, and then his hands pull you free and his fingers are squeezing you just like they used to. Your head drops back against the door, and his familiar mouth finds its way over your breast. He kisses your soft skin, biting and licking across the swell of your flesh until his lips find your hard nipple.

"Remember how I used to make you come from this alone?" he murmurs around your breast.

"No," you protest half-heartedly. Of course you remember. Over the years, you've tried to make yourself finish just by playing with your nipples, but it never worked. Not like it worked with him. "Stop it, we can't-"

"We are."

"Billy-"

"Fuck," he grunts. He pulls away his leg from between yours before grabbing your hips and lifting you up. "I need more."

"Please," you beg. Your body responds before you can even think about it, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He bends down his head to suck on your nipple against as he begins thrusting against you. Through your underwear, and his soft trouers, you can feel his hard cock grind against your cunt.

"Oh, my God," he moans. "God, you feel so good, baby."

"We have to stop!" you beg. But your legs are too tight around him. He grinds against you desperately, like a man possesesd.

"Mine. My pretty girl, you're where you belong. Look at me, now."

Dropping your head against the door, you look at him with heavily-lidded eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his forehead damp. His lip twitches as he thrusts against you.

"Open your mouth."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," you hiss.

With one arm still holding you firmly against the door, he grasps your face and presses your cheeks. It hurts so fucking much and it forces your jaw open. He spits into your mouth. Disgusting. You swallow gratefully.

"That's it," he praises lowly. "You're gonna make me come just doing this, baby."

"Don't call me that." Pleasure is mounting in you already. Just from dry humping, like you're teenagers again. But he makes you feel like a virgin again. And him calling you that doesn't help cool your passion.

"Why not?" He stills his thrusts. "Does it make your clit hard?"

It's impossible to hold back your moan. "Let me go."

He obliges - for a moment. Billy lets you go only to set your feet back on the ground, and then he spins you to press your face against the door, and he pushes up your dress. When he can't push your underwear to the side as much as he wants, he yanks it down. When you refuse to comply with taking it off, he just tears it. It leaves red marks on your thighs, the violent action, and you almost come from the senstation alone.

Fuck Billy Washington.

"God, I can smell you," he groans against your ear. "Did you think about me when you touched yourself for all those years apart?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Glancing over your shoulder, you can't hold back a choked moan. He only pushes down his joggers - couldn't even wear a nice pair of jeans for his mates' party, pathetic - enough to free his cock, and it's as perfect as you remember.

He notices how your mouth hangs open at the sight. "You want it in your sweet mouth, baby?"

"No," you whine.

"Do you suck on dildos and think of me?"

"No."

"I think you do," Billy whispers. Into your hair he presses his forehead, and he looks down as he bends you forward. You resist only a little - and then he's there, pushing you open. "Fuck, you're so perfect."

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes from the absolute need he's driving into you, body and soul. He's not yours anymore - but, God, you're still his. "Billy!"

"I wish you could feel how good you feel," he praises with a strained voice. Once he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, as if to drink it all in. "So fucking wet for me. So relaxed. You need this, don't you?"

Resting your head on the door, you shake it. "Fuck you."

"Hmm." He bites your ear and then blows into it, making goosebumps rise along your flesh. "Try again, baby."

"Fuck you."

"You want me to stop?"

You don't reply. The only response he gets is your strained breathing. And then, after a long moment, "no."

"Let me hear it."

You shake your head.

"Please," he whispers, nearly shaking from the restraint it takes to not lose control. "Please say those words I've missed. It'll be so good for you, my sweet girl."

Sweet girl. Baby. It's ridiculous, you know, but those names undo you. "Please," you beg. "Fuck me."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The pace he sets is relentless and brutal. He has to clamp his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he pounds into you again and again, pushing you higher and higher. You bite his palm and fingers in an attempt to stay silent, and the pain you cause makes him hiss.

But it doesn't matter. He's buried inside of you, his hands are all over you, and he's here, he's here, he's here. Billy, your Billy.

"Never again," he grunts between thrusts. "Not letting you go."

"Not leaving," you promise against his hand. Tears are rolling down your cheeks from the stinging pleasure of his cock, from how brutally high he's pushing you, from the years of frustration without him.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You," you babble mindlessly. "And you're mine."

"God, yes, I am," he promises.

The sound of your wet skin slapping together fills the bedroom. Downstairs, the thumping bass of the party hides your noises, you hope. He pushes two fingers into your mouth and you suck on them greedily. He gags you on them just for the delight of hearing you choke. Then he runs them, wet from your spit, down to your freed breast, and rolls your nipple between them. Carefully, he pulls on it, and it's a stark contrast to how hard he's fucking your pussy.

"Close," you moan. "Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, please-! Please-!"

His hard and fast pace is so much. He grunts against your ear, and then his nose is in your hair, and he bites your ear. "C'mon, baby, come on my cock!"

"Touch me," you beg.

And then his fingers are crooked around your clit, flicking and squeezing just how you always liked, and it has you higher and higher and tighter and tighter and the feeling won't let up and you're close, so close, there can't be anywhere else to go-!

"Billy! Billy! B-!" Your orgasm crashes over you in waves that spread through your whole body. You're spiralling, falling, writhing with it, your heart racing and pleasure exploding between your thights, up your chest, over your scalp. Your choked noises make your throat raw, the intensity makes your cheeks wet.

With your cunt still clenching and relaxing in increible aftershocks, Billy pulls out just in time to spill. Roughly, he bites your shoulder to keep quiet, but his name is on your lips. You feel him tremble behind you, how his knees are going weak.

You both stand there for a long moment, your back against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck. Slowly, he pulls your dress back down, and he pushes himself back into his trousers. After that, his hands find your waist. You try to pull away, but he won't let you go.

"Stay," he whispers. "With me."

"Billy," you murmur. The reality of what has just happened begins to sink in. "This... can't happen again."

"It will, though."

When you turn to face him, there is no regret in his face. "It can't."

He strokes your hair back from your face in a gesture that feels just as intimate as what just happened. "I won't let you go again."

"You're married."

"I'll leave her."

"You have a child."

"I love you more."

You shake your head. "You don't mean that."

He doesn't smile. 'What if I do?"

"I... you shouldn't. It's wrong."

"Don't care."

"Billy. You can't leave your wife."

"So you're happy to let me cheat on her with you?"

You wince. "This was a mistake."

"The only mistake either of us made was me letting you go. And I'm never, ever, doing that again." His blue eyes are intense, bearing into you as if he's searching your very soul.

"Never?"

He kisses your forehead. "No matter the cost. Never again."

[bluegalaxygirl]

Hiiiii!! i’m so glad your back and i hope your doing well!!

I was thinking if you could maybe do a one shot/hcs about if zosan found their partner reading a spicy book???

Hope you have a great rest of your day!!

Thank you and that sounds like such a fun idea, i also thought id spice it up a bit so i hope you like. Also love the kitty with the Santa hat profile pic so cute.

Warning: Bad language, Sexual content but no smut and Making out

Reader is GN, Poly relationship, established relationship, Zoro X Sanji X Reader.

^ Your not a spicy book kinda person but you know who is? Sanji, even though he's in a relationship with two people he still has those magazines. The cook doesn't hide it from you and Zoro, you both know that he keeps them under the bed.

^ It some times bothers You and Zoro that he has those magazines but on the plus side the cook hasn't bought any new ones since he started dating the two of you. You know that since Sanji isn't shy about it, if you ask he will show you his collection.

^ Zoro never had an interest in that kind of thing, he always says how disgusting it is when ever he catches a glimpse of them or finds the cook looking at one. The swordsman does love to tease the cook about them though, making Sanji blush and babble much to your amusement.

^ So with all that said it was surprising to you when you found a hidden untitled book while cleaning your room that you share with the boys. Pulling out the bottom draw to put some clothes away something pink caught your eye on the floor right at the back.

^ It was a struggle to reach it, having to bend your arm over the back of the draw you pulled out to tease what ever it was forward and then having to reach under the chest of draws to pull it out completely.

^ The book was pink with a single rose on the cover, there was no title or description on it so you opened finally finding the title "Inferno Hearts", your first thought is that it's Sanji's and maybe he lost it but the book didn't have any dust on it.

^ You placed it on the side thinking you'll talk to Sanji later and see if it's his but as you were cleaning curiosity got the best of you so during your break you deiced to read some, it was deferentially romance but the content made you blush bright red.

^ You found yourself laughing, smiling and gasping at the content becoming enthralled with it, unable to put it down until you got to the spicy part. You froze but couldn't stop your eyes from reading the most intense and romantic seen you have ever seen or read, your hole face goes red just as the door opens.

---------- Story ----------

You were so enthralled by the book in your hands that you didn't hear the yelling from outside until the door to the bedroom flung open, you gasped from your spot on the bed as you looked up to see Zoro and Sanji yelling at each other, their shirts wet "Just say your sorry, it's not that hard" The cook growls undoing his stained tie while Zoro rolls his eyes shoving past the blonde to get into the room while taking his top off "You weren't watching where you were going" The swordsman growls throwing his shirt to the side before freezing in place looking at you on the bed with a bright red face holding a book in your hands. Sanji goes to yell back angry at Zoro for bumping into him when leaving the kitchen causing the try of drinks he was holding to cover both of them but stops when seeing the swordsman's wide eyes. Raising an eyebrow the cook looks over to you on the bed and gives you a smile, he couldn't help but blush at your cute flustered face "Hello my love, i'm sorry for disturbing you" Sanji takes a new shirt out of the draws starting to take his shirt off to put the other on. His words manage to snap you out of your frozen state and slam the book closed "Oh no, I'm sorry Sanji i should have asked before reading it" You try to laugh away your nerves as you move to sit on the edge of the bed, Sanji changes his shirt and throws on a new tie before walking over to you and looking over the book you hold out to him "My love you don't need my permission to read your book" He laughs a little while pushing it back to you.

Confusion strikes you while watching as Sanji does his tie, once he's done you hold the book out for him which he takes "It's not mine, i found it under the chest of draws while cleaning. I thought it might be yours" You state keeping your focus on Sanji as he flicks through the book but in the corner of your eye you see Zoro going into the draws and pulling out a shirt in quite the hurry "It's not mine, i'm more of a visual person than a reader of this sort of thing" Sanji laughs with a slight blush handing you the book back. Zoro rushes to leave the room while throwing his shirt on but is stopped by his name being called by you and Sanji. With a sigh the swordsman slowly turns around his face bright red while avoiding any kind of eye contact with the two of you "Zoro... Is this yours?" Sanji asks with a smile already knowing the answer by how the green haired man is acting, the flustered look, the rush to get away and the frozen state he was in as soon as he swore you reading the book told him everything. "N-No" Zoro rubs the back of his head while looking away from the two of you. A smile forms on your face as you stand up, the swordsman has never been the romantic type so you never thought he would read something like this. "It's ok Zo, it's actually really good" You state while walking over to the man with the book held to your chest, he still refused to look at you but somehow his face went redder "I mean it Zo, you don't have to hide things from us." You try and reassure him only to hear a snicker from Sanji behind you.

A quick look at the cook told him to shut up, Sanji jumps at your look before freezing in place and clenching his teeth, so he won't say anything. Looking back at Zoro his eye's shift to look down at you seeing a sweet smile and loving eyes "I know you don't want to be teased over it or for the others to find out so i won't do either and Sanji" You turn to glare back at the cook who looks down in shame "He won't tell anyone either but i know he will tease you over this" You sigh smiling back up at Zoro who relaxes at your words, Sanji nods as he walks over to stand next to you "Yea Zo, i won't tell the others but i will be teasing you over this, lets call it pay back for all the times you've teased me over my magazines" Sanji laughs while poking Zoro's side causing the swordsman to growl and grab the cooks tie pulling him closer "You two better not tell anyone" he growls as Sanji puts his hands up in defense and nods along with you. "As for the teasing, i can take what ever you throw at me" The swordsman gives a cocky smile while letting go of Sanji's tie, you hold the book out to Zoro, but he pushes it back to you "You can keep reading it since you seemed soooo into it" The swordsman leans down to be eye level with you causing your cheeks to go red "I mean it is good but... That scene" Your blush gets worse at just the thought, Zoro chuckles at you before pulling you into him by your waist "If it makes our Y/N blush then it must be super spicy.. Didn't know you were into that kinda thing Zo" Sanji starts to tease wrapping his arms around Zoro's free arm.

The swordsman tries to ignore him but when Sanji whispers something in the green haired man's ear the cook is shoved away "D-Don't say shit like that" Zoro's face goes bright red once again as he stutters stepping away from the cook and letting you go, Sanji smiles wide as he walks closer until the swordsman's back is up against the door, Zoro reaches for the handle to escape but Sanji grabs it first stopping the door from being opened "Oh come on Zoro. If you like the book so much, why don't we recreate it" Sanji teases making you blush but hold back at laugh at how flustered and panicked Zoro has become. "My love, why don't you read a part out to give me an idea of what to do" The cook gets close to Zoro's face who is almost frozen in shock and embarrassment unable to move as the blondes hand runs over his hip. You shake your head while walking over to the two, you wanted to save Zoro but then Sanji turns to look at you giving you a cheeky smile and a wink, you knew this was his payback and a good way to have some fun so you open the book. Deciding to go gentle on the swordsman you read out a kissing scene getting Zoro to stutter trying to tell you to shut up but you continued until that part was over. Sanji nods at you before brushing his lips against Zoro's "Your eyes are the light to my darkness, oh how i adore them" The cook whispers quoting the man from the scene as he presses his lips lightly onto Zoro who tries to push the cook away but can't seem to muster up the strength to do so. You blush at the two before putting the book to the side and walking over running your hand up Zoro's arm.

You can't let Sanji have all the fun plus the swordsman looks too cute all flustered. Leaning into the swordsman's neck you blow lightly in it causing the man to shiver while Sanji slips his tongue into the swordsman's mouth humming a little and letting his hand run up to Zoro's ribs. "I will always shine bright for you, so even in the darkest of night, you can find your way home to me" You quote the mans partner in the scene before lightly placing your lips on his neck, kissing up and down it in slow long kisses. Zoro can't help but let out a slight moan from the feeling, his heart pounding in his chest as different conflicting emotions run through his body. Sanji soon pulls away panting for air while placing his forehead against Zoro's who's eyes are still slightly wide while his whole face and neck are bright red "My dear, my angel of light -" Sanji whispers as his hand travels up your back getting you to stop kissing Zoro's neck and look up at him, the cook didn't need to say anything, you already knew what he wanted so you leaned in closer to Zoro's face letting your hand run up the swordsman's arm to rest on his shoulder while Sanji pulled away slightly his hand running through the swordsman's hair "I have always and will forever love you and follow your light" The two of you say in unison before kissing Zoro's lips, the three of your lips moving together as the swordsman's hands quickly wrap around the two of you holding you all close together. Zoro relaxes into the kiss letting out a hum of satisfaction, he may still be flustered but maybe the teasing wouldn't be too bad after all.

[captain-mj]

Maybe on a mission, Ghost gets knocked out and somehow (I dunno freestyle) Soap has to go into his mind to get him to wake up

At some point Soap comes across a memory of Ghost and his dad and he yells at his dad <3

Heavy on the angst pls and thanks

I've been thinking about this so long, I've been waiting for an excuse to write something like this. Kinda got long so the second half will be separate. 

Tw: child abuse, self depreciative language (including slurs), talk of suicidal ideation and very mild homophobia.

~~~~

Soap knew what he needed to do. He needed to go in Ghost's mind and find the door to wake Ghost up. In the normal plan, Price would be doing this as Ghost's must trusted ally, but he was also injured, leaving just Soap to do it.

Soap had laughed. “I promise not to violate his privacy while I’m looking for the way out.”

“Johnny.” Price had said to so seriously. “Ghost has a lot of stuff in his past. You’ll see something you don’t want to. Let him show you around, understood?”

Soap frowned, sobering a bit. “Okay. I won’t. What his way out?”

“Simon is one of the easy ones. Its just a door. Red with a black handle. It’ll be hidden, you’ll have to go through some of the rooms, but like i said, let Ghost lead.”

“How dangerous is it? I know some people have things up there.”

“Not dangerous at all.” Price shook his head. “Nothing there but a few ghosts.”

The process was shockingly simple. Soap closed his eyes in a hospital room and opened them somewhere else.

An unfamiliar home. It was… old. Slightly run down but the living room, he was in seemed cozy. Full of dark blue and green with blankets scattered on most of the furniture. A smell circled the home. After a moment, he identified it as the scent of something like copper and cookies. Odd blend.

The cold hit him suddenly, the freezing chill of Manchester. He threw one of the blankets around him and went looking around for…

Simon stood in the kitchen, well he was perched on the counter, eating a thinly iced cookie. Supplies were scattered around, bowls of dough and icing. He looked up at Johnny and smiled, stepping down.

He was… wrong. For one, there was no mask, but two, he was clearly young. Barely 18 it seemed. He was tall still, but lanky, like he didn’t quite eat enough or maybe just hadn’t finished filling out.

“Johnny.” Simon smiled at him and Soap’s breath caught. He looked adorable.

“Hey, Ghost. Where… is this?” Soap tried to remember what Price and the doctors had told him. The person was different In their mind. 

“Where i grew up!” Simon bounced on his toes. “I can show you some of the places? You want to know more about me, right?” He batted his eyelashes, looking….

Fuck was he shy right now? He looked like a teenager around his crush.

“Okay. And after that, we can leave right?”

“No.” Simon handed him a cookie and started walking away, humming softly. It didn’t leave much room to argue, but Soap decided it could wait a minute. Time here was a lot faster, a couple hours here were barely minutes out there, so he had all the time in the world.

The cookie tasted amazing. “Did you make this?”

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get Ghost to let me do it but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh. Are Ghost and you… separate?”

“No. Ghost is… a set of rules. A blanket i put on so pain doesn’t hit as hard.” Simon explained. “Personifying it makes it easier, but Ghost isn’t a person, I am.”

Soap wasn’t sure he understood but he nodded regardless. “Do you like baking?”

“I love it! My mom taught me.” He smiled again. “I used to hide in the kitchen with her when my dad got drunk.”

Oh. Oh that was…

Soap stared at him quietly but Simon didn’t seem to be bothered. “I wish i could do it more. Sometimes, on leave, I make some. I shouldn’t, I don’t eat most of it, but a couple of my neighbors are stoners so I just give it to them.”

Simon tidied as he talked, fixing things so they were military straight. “Be careful what rooms you go in, yeah?”

“You’re interesting.”

“Less of a filter here. That’s what Price says. I like Price. He acts a bit too much like a dad to me, but I let it slide because he’s nice.”

Soap smiled. He shouldn’t but… “What do you think of Gaz?”

“I like him. A bit wet behind the ears, clumsy, but he’s a great soldier.”

“And me?” Soap Maybe posed a little seductively.

Simon looked at him briefly and blushed before looking at what he was tidying. “You’re fine, I guess.” Something flashed over his head, just a little too fast for Soap to read it.

“Ouch.” Soap laughed. “You really don’t care about me huh?”

“That’s not very fair of you, ya know. Prying into me. Didn’t they tell you it’s impolite.” Simon… pouted. Honest to god pouted. His face was softer, not scarred yet besides an odd mark around his lips, like a burn. It was odd. It felt like his face was distorted, but maybe that’s just because Soap hadn’t seen it for so long.

“Hmm. I’ll let you pick my brain next time.”

“I wouldn’t let you get hurt enough to need this.” Simon said solemnly, catching his gaze. “Never.”

Johnny blinked. “Come on, Simon. Let’s get out of here, yeah? We can get some bourbon. I’ll even drink it with you.” He suddenly very much wanted to not be there. To be in the real world where Simon was older and didn’t just say things like that.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want to leave yet.” Simon stretched, shoulders rolling.

“Do you know where the door is?”

“No. You can look in the rooms with yellow doors if you want to start searching. I need to clean first.” 

Soap had half a mind to argue that he had been told explicitly not to do that, but then decided it would be fine. 

Johnny noticed the room was rather dusty, but he brushed it off. He walked away from, looking down the hallway. No red doors, but that was usual. It would be hidden somewhere. Two yellow doors, two red, four blue and…

A creepy metal door at the end. How lovely. He’d come back to that. 

He went into one of the blue ones, surprised to find party music. Ghost went to high school parties? That was an odd idea to think about. 

He was so tiny. Soap had never considered Ghost as being short. I mean technically he wasn’t, he was still 5′8, but he looked so tiny. His hair was dark instead of the bleached look he was accustomed to. It fell in his eyes and...

He had pierced ears. Simon was just wearing some simple studs, but his ears were pierced. 

“I’m going to bully you for that one LT. Just you wait.” He followed him, watching him drink a can of beer, the shitty kind that you only drink because you’re at a party. 

One person was so much clearer than everyone else, most of Ghost’s attention on them. They were about Soap’s height, shaggy brown hair and a permanent smirk on his face. Soap watched them make eye contact and Ghost quickly looked away, blushing. 

Oh. 

Soap already had a feeling about Ghost’s sexuality. The man didn’t talk about it much, but he showed zero interest in women. He was always the first to start beating a man for trying to spike a drink or take an obviously too drunk girl home, but when flirted with, he’d just turn them down. It was an open secret that Ghost was not straight. 

Still nice to have confirmation. He glanced around, not seeing the red door or the door to go back to the hallway, so he decided to just keep following him. Eventually the memory would end.

The two boys ended up just a little too close on a balcony. 

The other guy hummed. “Cold?”

Simon nodded mutely, blushing hard. Instead of offering his jacket, the guy moved closer. 

The kiss was clumsy. Their teeth clacked but eventually, the guy’s arms ended up around Simon’s waist and they slowed down a bit. 

Someone made a noise and they sprang apart. Both blushing hard. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this, yeah Riley?”

Simon nodded immediately. “Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.” It was said with a grin, but Johnny couldn’t help how much that hurt to hear. 

Poor kid. 

The guy nodded and awkwardly punched his shoulder before leaving him there. Simon finished the can and smiled to himself, that soft blush still across his face.

“It was my first. Had a lot of better ones since then.” Slightly older Simon appeared again. 

“Ever tell your family?”

“My brother found out by looking through my room. Found some... magazines I had.” Simon turned bright red. “Luckily he never told our parents. Dad would’ve killed me.”

“Oh. Forgot you’re quite a bit older than me. Still looking at magazines.” Soap teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I’m only 29, you know that right?” Simon smiled at him. 

“What?” Soap turned to him. “The fuck do you mean??”

“Yeah, just 29.”

“I’m 24. I didn’t realize we were that close.”

“How old did you think I was??”

“Like Price’s age.”

“You know Price is 37 right?”

Soap rubbed his temple. “This is too much information for me.”

Simon laughed and something flashed above his head. Like a cartoon with flashing light and an arrow.

“Murderer.” 

Soap flinched but Simon didn’t notice. “Let get out of here. The door isn’t here.” He grabbed Soap’s hand, his skin warm against his own. Soap followed him, getting pulled into a new yellow door. 

It was a butcher shop. 

Simon hummed. “Nothing interesting happens here. Just hurry up and look around.” 

“Why were you in a butcher shop?”

“It was my first job!” Simon said excitedly. “This is how I learned most of my knife skills. The butcher taught me a couple of knife tricks too.” 

“Cool.” Soap nodded. Made a lot of sense actually. 

Simon showed him around the small building, including the freezer. There wasn’t another version of him like in the previous place. Now that he was really looking, there was no one. 

No red door. They stepped back into the hallway. 

Simon sighed. “I don’t want you to look through the other rooms. I can’t convince you to just stay in my head forever, can I?”

“Nope!”  Soap picked a blue door at random and went straight in. 

It was of him. More specifically, him training with the rest of the 141 for their yearly assessments. He hated those. 

After a moment, he picked up on it. Everyone else was in color, but slightly fuzzy like Ghost hadn’t been focusing on them. But just like the guy from the party, Johnny was in sparkling 4K resolution. 

“you pay a lot of attention to me, don’t ya, LT?” Johnny smiled and looked above Simon’s head just in time to see it.

“Faggot.” This time with several arrows pointed to him. 

“You’re loud. Draws my attention.” He was clearly lying, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Why is this door blue?” 

“Everything after the accident is blue.” 

“What was the accident?”

“When my entire family was murdered. Obviously.” Simon looked at him. “I know you read my file, Johnny.”

“Didn’t include anything about that.” Soap mumbled.

“Ah. Oh well. You would’ve found the memory eventually anyway.” Simon leaned into him suddenly, his head falling on his shoulder. “The red door is there sometimes. I get lucky occasionally and its behind one of these.”

“This happen often?” Johnny tried to pretend the amount of contact wasn’t making him flustered. He was pretty. He’d choose his Simon over this past one, but he wouldn’t deny they were both gorgeous. 

“Yeah. I tend to be rather reckless. Price thinks I’m suicidal.”

“Are you?”

“Definitely. I try not to make him worry though.” Simon saw the face Johnny made and backtracked slightly. “You don’t have to worry either. My therapist knows. I’m not actively. Just don’t try to keep myself alive as much as the average person does.”

“Oh.” Soap stared at him and he could see him getting uncomfortable. 

Simon went to pull away and Johnny turned, pulling him back so they were hugging now. He melted in Soap’s hands and wrapped his arms around him tight. 

They pulled back in tandem and avoided each other’s eyes before fumbling to a new door.

Johnny went to the red door directly across the hall. Simon grabbed his arm tight but didn’t stop him. He buried his face in his back as they went in. 

A man who looked a lot like Simon was sitting in the living room of the same house Soap had first appeared in. Simon and a small, darker haired child sat at the table with him. 

“Frank.” Ghost mumbled to him. “The man’s name.”

Frank had a snake, an extremely large one at that, wrapped around his shoulders. It moved slowly as it trailed along his arm.

“C’mon Simon.” His voice slurred and Soap could see his pupils were far too big. 

“What’s he high on?”

“Heroin probably.” Ghost hid his face in Soap’s hair, pulling him against his chest. 

Frank hummed. “Not scared are you?”

This Simon looked even younger than the other. Probably only 8 if Soap had to guess. He shook his head but Soap could see his hands shaking where they were pressed to his thighs. 

Frank moved the snake closer, its head coming so close to the child in that seat. Soap didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew it was going to be bad. Ghost trembled against him, the strongest person he knew, trembling at the sight of this fucking asshole.

“Dad.” Simon said softly, unable to keep the tremble out of his face. Frank moved closer and before Soap even realized what he was doing, he backhanded Simon out of the chair and to the floor. That tiny fucking kid. 

“You’re so fucking annoying. It’s a snake. It’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a goddamn animal.” He grabbed Simon by his shirt collar, yanking him up he was dangling half on the ground, unable to get his feet under him. “Your bitch of a mother ruined you. Made you such a fucking pussy.” He shook him while he talked.

Simon didn’t flinch. Just stared up completely blank besides the tiniest wobble of his bottom lip. 

“He’s a fucking child.” Soap snapped, but nothing happened. 

Frank grabbed the snake, suddenly pushing it closer and closer to Simon’s face. It’s mouth opened, venom clearly dripping.

The burns around his mouth. Venom would leave those burns.

“You’re such a useless kid, you know that?” It was stupid of Soap, but he couldn’t just watch that. He shoved him, surprised to find Frank was solid. The man looked at him, dropping the kid.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re a shit dad.” Soap stared at him. Ghost might find him scary, but he had been a kid. Soap could see him for what he was. “You’re a fucking junkie and that’s it.”

Frank stared at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

“His...” Soap didn’t have a word. “I’m his. That’s all that matters. And you’re not going to fucking touch him.” 

Frank blinked before just disappearing. They were thrown back into the hallway this time. 

Simon leaned into him, his chest to Soap’s back to hide his face. He shook hard. 

“You’re okay, Ghost. I promise.” 

“I want to go home now, Johnny. Want that drink.” 

“I’ll get you out of here buddy. Promise.”

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Okay okay okay okay so so so so

I’ve never rlly does these before but I am in dire need of more Kuras content so 😇

I apologize if these are dumb, or have been done before- I consume a lot of media and also can’t remember what I have had for breakfast so I might accidentally repeat stuff I’ve seen.

ALR

HERE WE GO

Are u ready…

please sound more enthusiastic, I need you to go: YEAHHHH LES GOOO

Ahem ahem

We’ll work on it.

Kuras x Mc headcanons

Warnings: None? Unless you’re like me and swoon so easily you accidentally hit ur head on your writer’s desk. There’s a price to pay by being too dramatic you know.

KURAS WEARING HIS GLASSES WHILE READING A BOOK TO YOU.

Imagine, you’ve had a really rough day, you’re overwhelmed, exhausted, your head is pulsing with an incoming headache—

—and you walk through the door and Kuras turns to you with a small smile, opening his mouth to greet u before he takes in your condition. INSTANTLY, he gets some tea going, a hot bath, some comfy pajamas, and after all that, he sits down, golden glasses resting atop his nose, book in hand. He pats his lap and while you rest your head down while he reads to u iN THE MOST CALMING LOW VOICE. Mwah mwah, perfection. Thank you Angel husbando.

And before you completely drift off into dream land, you feel the soft, plushy feel of his lips on your forehead that shoos the headache away.

AHHHHHHHH

ALRIGHT MOVING ON

You know that lore that’s like…’if ur left(or right?) ear rings, an Angel is trying to talk to you?

That happens to u every time Kuras is desperately wanting to speak with you but he’s either too busy, or you’re too busy to chat at the moment.

And when he falls for u, it starts happening way more frequently. Like, you’re taking a sip of your coffee or tea or whatever, and suddenly your ear goes EEEEEEEEEEEEE

Dang that was funky

But then it happens again when you’re at work, when you’re talking with one of the other LI or friends, when you’re picking up dinner, WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO FRICKIN SLEEP >:0

It gets to be such a bother that you HAHAH, actually go see Kuras about it. You walk in like, ‘Kuras, my man, can u please check up on my ear, it’s been buzzing nonstop.’

And after some questions, he starts to realize…oh dang, has he really been thinking about you that much? Dang, what a simp he has become. That’s his true monster form all along. A massive, mullet haired simp.

He does find a way to help you. Though he still thinks about u just as much.

OKAY OKAY NEXT ONE

Is it just me or does Kuras seem like a guy that constantly radiates warmth. Like his hands? Always warm like he’s been holding a hot cup of tea. His hugs??? Just like being wrapped up in a blanket right outta the dryer(drier?).

I feel like if you easily get cold, he does the thing cold handed people do and sometimes just surprises u by putting his warm palm on the back of your neck.

ALSO ALSO ALSO- if you’re strolling with him during either a cold rainstorm, or when it’s winter and snowing—you say something like- “My nose feels like it’s going to freeze and fall off ):” and you’re right, it’s gotten so cold you’ve now become Rudolph. Your cheeks are pretty red too.

NOT TO FEAR

Kuras will then gently brush your hair out of your face before planting a warm little smooch on the tip of your nose and then a BUNCH of kisses across your cheeks. Warmth blooms across your entire body and BOOM. Problem solved.

Because you’re probably also blushing now too.

He also rushes you home faster too- YOU ARENT GETTING A COLD ON HIS WATCH ):<

FOR THE LAST HEADCANON—or rather, this is just an artistic vision…

Kuras with Miku style pigtails.

OKAY WE’RE DONE

I hope you enjoyed those, and that they’ve haven’t been done already. I just love my tall Angel husband and hope he gets more content.

Anyway, I hope you have a rlly good day and drink perfectly cold water and find something that makes you happy. 😙

[mammonistheman]

Hi! If ur open for requests can I get one about king dice (from the show) where he finds out from the devil that he has a rival now! (Reader) who owns a popular club and is working better & faster than dice ever did! The devil tells him to go and meet his new working partner *who he hints might get his position as number 1 if doesn’t keep up😰* dice obviously gets intimidated and goes to the club to meet them. But the place is packed! everyone he knows is there! he gets a table and tires to look for his rival everywhere but it’s so crowded! then everyone gets quiet and looks to the stage he sees the singer who is the most stunning person he has ever seen in his life. They’re singing ( why don’t you do right) and is giving very much Jessica rabbit vibes 💋👠you know? everyone in the club is going crazy😍 singer slowly walk up to his table and playfully takes his hat (bear with me he’s wearing a hat here) and tugs on his tie and is close to his face! staring in his eyes veeerrry sensually I mean WHEW honey!😮‍💨 but pushes him away and walks back to the stage and ends the song everyone cheers and whistles and he’s there like 😳 he asks one of the waiters about who the singer is and finds out that they are the owner!!!!🤯 plot twist!!! like what you do here is your choice! what does he do? How does he deal with his rival how does his crush treat him? How does this end? I hope this helps! Let me know if you get this or if your confused about something! Thanks for reading💗

Ugh thank you so much for requesting 😩😩 I love this concept SO MUCHHH!! I can't get enough!! I love your description too!! When describing the readers outfit in this I used two different options, for more fem or masc people, but still very much keeping Jessica Rabbit 🤭🤭💋👠 this is LOWKEY long too cause I got so into it

ALSO I WAS MEANT TO POST THIS A WHILE AGO BUT DEPRESSION HIT HARDDD I made the ending a bit rushed I'm sorry 😭

"Again??" King Dice had always had a nervous bubbling feeling in his chest as he's called down to see the Devil himself, but much more nervous now that he had actually let that currently-being-hunted cup slip out the palm of his hand and managing to get away. Oh, yeah, for the second time already.

He pulls at his collar at the tone of the flamboyant demon, grin twitching nervously.

The dice looks at the ruler of hell up and down, adjusting his suit to flatter his body more efficiently. He falters his smile to suit his boxed face in a cooler manner, shrugging for his jacket to sit properly upon his shoulders. "Don't;;" his throat feels hoarse, he smiles nerve wrackingly at the devil who is now lifting an eyebrow.

"Don't even worry about it, Boss!" He points a prominent thumb to his chest. "Third time's a charm! That Cup's soul will be yours!" He states confidently, no trace of his former fidgety movements as he places his hands on his hips. "After all; that's why I am your number one.." he smugly recalls, fixing his gloves.

King Dice looks up to see the Devil's expression, and as it was before it looked distant and uninterested. He looks more than bothered, and certainly angry. Refraining from snapping, the pitchfork wielding toon pinches the bridge of his nose as some sort of way to take control of the situation. He ends up giving a fast, rash reply to the King's last comment.

"You know..;;" he drawls sassily, furrowing his eyebrows in annoyance. "You have a rival for your place as number one." He turns, tail flicking up and into the air, stocking over to his throne that had been very near. He walks up the thin steps up to his seat, fire from the sides of the pathway roaring fiercely before forming into more controllable flickers of flames.

King Dice takes the heat into noticable consideration, yet the mention of rivalry for the placement of number one made him freeze in his spot. "Rivalry?" He questions, stepping closer to where the Devil had been stropping. He wafts his arms loosely around the place, frantically trying to get answers from his Boss. "What's this about rivalry, again??"

The Devil slightly picks up his mood, still slumped in his seat on the throne, but eyes now wide open in disbelief of the question. "Why- you don't know??" He begins; resting the pitchfork besides him, and lifting himself to sit up in his seat effortlessly. "You know; [Name]?" He waited for any sign of remembrance of the name, yet was left dumbfounded at King Dice's confusion.

"Come on- seriously? How don't you know [Name]??" He sassily, again, peered closer to Dice, but still with clear expressions, it was true he didn't know them. "Your new working partner??" He irritatedly huffed, only for King Dice to reply with an awkward. "You never told me about a new working partner.."

With some searching and fuss, The Devil comes to the conclusion of forgetting to tell his "Number 1" about his new co-worker. He starts to batter his eyeashes at King Dice, also suddenly forgetting the Cup's soul, a goofy grin taking over his face as he continued to tell him who they were. "Well; [Name] is your new rival now!"

He proudly announced, crossing his legs over one another before picking all the dirt from beneath his nails with the strong smile not leaving his face. "Or new working partner.. You know-- they own a popular club and they're working better and faster than you ever could!" He nods along to his own words, gushing over their criteria.

"Maybe they're the one to bring me the cup's soul!! Oh, how sweet of them, how very sweet!" As the Devil ponders and kicks his legs in delight, but with grounding himself he settles in his seat. "Oh they're just amazing! You must meet them!" He insists, without a thought he snaps his fingers and a hat appears.

The hat is a royal purple and looked as if it was made out of expensive fabrics, it suited the rest of the King's suit. The devil lifted himself up, holding the hat at the lip of it, and reaching over to pick up his pitchfork. He bangs the nip of the pitchfork against the floor twice, clanking sounds coming right up after the gesture.

He walks down the thin steps, placing a hat atop of King Dice's head, completely dissing his completely crushed soul seeping through and out his dice eyes. "You'll need that hat at the very least, because;; you know.. [Name] is just really fancy!" He continued to push him towards the elevator that had appeared from the floor on command to the pitchfork.

The thin appearing doors shoved open, it empty without the usually little short and round demon that would assist him. King Dice gets sent forward by the cupped hand of the Devil, with his back still turned towards him he heard the final words of his Boss before the doors clamp shut.

"So, with that said; if you don't keep it up, you know who will get the position on number one. "

On the ride up was fast but slightly bumpy, in slow knocks to either side had been applied to the elevator levitation as the Dice could only stare in the deep rich colour of the door. He had a heavy frown craving his face, shoulders drooping forward slightly, his back slouched with his arms hanging.

The doors soon snapped open and gave him a clear view as to where he was; yet the first thing he noticed was the busy chatter all around him. He stepped out, noticing the dark alley way he appeared in, only vaguely recognising the sound of the escalator burying back into the floor without a trace in the concrete.

His eyes widened slightly at muffled mutter, he was quick to pace to the corner of the wall, past messy dumpsters, his movement almost causing his newfound hat to slip off his head. He adjusts the new clothing accessory, looking around the place he had been sent two.

Clearly, it were still the streets of inkwell. It actually seemed sort of familiar, like he had passed by before, but he let let little detail slip. He looked up at the building he had been standing by, recognising it as a bar, the very prominent yapping conversations coming from inside. He adjusts his clothing again as he stepped away from the casted shadows, looking into the bustling building.

He counted heads, even recognising some faces as people who watch his shows, the many faces he has looked over time and time again. It was like he had been seeing them for the first time, but with the knowledge of them being his watchers. He stepped inside, looking at all the fancy decor.

The fancy paintings on the walls looked out of place but suited; they marked who had opened the bar and the year it had been opened. A portrait of a older gentleman, rather dapper, in a expensive suit and had been painted in expensive paints, it looked like. He continued to search his surroundings, still wondering why the bar had been so popular.

Sure, the glinting lights had created a atmospheric environment, good to be tipsy in, the main color used for the carpet flooring and the surrounding walls were red and gold.

But it still smelt of regular old boos, and hadn't even been using the stage that had been set up in the corner. The night still seemed lively, dispute the stop of nothing going on. He couldn't help but wonder if he could sneak in his very own show, and turn the night into one of his very own if he could.

He was still captivated by the many drunken friends singing in broken harmony, that he fails to watch a waitress prance up to him. "Can I help ya?" She rather rudely snapped, but King Dice only assumed she didn't notice who he was. He grinned charmingly, flicking the hat to fall off his head before bowing to the lady.

"Why, yes, may you bring me to a table?" He smugly replied, standing up with a still fist full of his hat. He waited for any reaction off of her, but only to see she continued to chew on a toothpick. "Okay, Buddy, follow me.." she turned away, almost leaving him in the crowd of wasted middle aged men. He hurried to keep up, quite in disbelief at her reaction. Rather than; her lack of a reaction.

He was brought to a table, the seats cushioned and light weight to eye appeal, they had also been coloured a significant shade in red and gold as of the rest of the surroundings. There had already been a group of lads there as well, as of how grounded the place was it was the only seat that was free.

"The bar is over there, Pal, if 'der is anythin' ya need." She simply walked off after her little dialogue, leaving him to ask the three men sitting down if he could join. Them, rather loudly, agreed to his company alarmingly willingly. He sat, and as he knew it, it was a rather comfortable for a spineless seat.

He looked over the big sea of crowds once more, trying to see any sign of his so called "rival", but to no luck he can only spot pigs chugging to their hearts delight. Slightly awkward, he leans into the group that looked as if they were in the middle of a card game. "So.." he starts, instead of the group growing at him in annoyance they all grinned, eyes half lidded.

"Sup'?" Was a simple slur of reply from a cat toon besides him. He was quite shocked they weren't as badly drunk as the others in the lot, but he still doubts he'd get clear answers. He tightens his tie, pushing down his mustache to be neater, and grinning at the friendly men. "Why is this place so crowded, huh, fellas?"

As soon as he got the question out the lights dimmed down, a singular beaming shooting out towards the stage. It instantly caught the attention of many, as well as the Dice, as the last thing hastily said to him was a breathless "You'll see in a sec.." the cards of the three players got thrown down onto the table, sighing, cupping their cheeks in their hands.

(if you wanna listen and read idk I also like the Jessica rabbit one better so i put it- just imagine its gender neutral too even tho its known as a "woman's blues" song 😭😭)

It had been silent for a couple moments, a voice seamlessly coming from nowhere with an echo. The rhythm of their voice was flawless, the lyrical words making the King perk up. "You had plenty of money in; 1922~" thick, deep cords strike from the band in front of the stage, blending into the dark with there dark clothing and instruments.

People starting cheering, the singer unfazed by the loud grasping voices as a leg of theirs appears behind the red certain hung up to back sights behind the stage. They make their appearance, outfit show worthy and fancy to a glimpse. The King's mouth hangs open to a gawp, eyes outlining their figure and clothing.

(If your want masc clothing(its still very glam);

They happen to be wearing a red suit, black shirt, and red tie. They hadn't been sparkling with gems but instead with spray on glitter that had been lightly scattered across soft, gleaming skin and only slightly wrinkled clothing. Their black shoes had soft clicking sounds against the wooden build of the stage, the slim heel making them slightly taller. Their gloves were a pale cream, if not white, with three striped markings on the back.

If you want fem clothing(its basically Jessica Rabbit ngl);

They had a bright red gem dress, the clung to the shape of thier body effortlessly showing off their silhouette. There's a slit up the leg of the dress, ending at the very hip on the left side. It reveals the shoes, long tall read blinding heels, that made harsh sounds when they walked(in a suprisingly stable fashion). Their gloves were long enough to reach their elbows, a pale cream, if not white, with three striped markings on the back.

Sorry; please continue :D )

He gulped for air, watching them delicately trailing a hand across their body almost in a teasing manner. They look at all the viewers, like he had been doing moments ago, watching them reach up to try to make contact with their body from up on stage. The glance they give to drunk lads was pure amusement, with one more wipe of the scene they finally find a different view..

A dice, King Dice for that matter, watching from a table, the most sober person at this bar. They almost double took at his sudden appearance, yet with still tuning their voice cords they smirk flirtatiously. They look down at the steps dividing the pianist, that had now also started playing the cords, from other musicians playing the background.

People make way for them to pass through, a line directly heading towards 'The Devil's right hand man'. They're still plucking words, swaying the heads of many people, making a few sing along with them as they traveled through the crowds of drunks and up to the only typically sober individual.

King Dice watches them, almost frozen in his seat, inspecting their body as their swift movements carry them through the large clusters of people. It doesn't hit him how close they are until their voice is ringing in his ears, he still pays attention to them rounding the table, away from him, their voice more broody as they made contact with the cartoon cat besides himself.

The cat, sitting directly next to King Dice, stiffened up, fluffy slim tail lifting up into the air in a straight line. They leaned over him and traced a finger to his hand that was resting on the table, up to his shoulder, and than to his cheek. People swooned and cheered at the 'exciting' actions, but that didn't matter to the mysterious singer as they made eye contact with King Dice the whole time.

They finally depart from the mouse chaser, standing to appear straighter as they finally set undivided attention onto the royal purple dressed dice. They take his shoulder, spinning him in his seat to fully put him on display to the crowds. Still singing into their old fashioned microphone, they let a chuckle slip into their words.

They take his hat, topping it down on their own head, focusing on any emotion they can find in his eyes. They give him a sensual look, furrowing their eyebrows to point upward, widening their eyes to appear more 'doe' like. They pucker their lips, leaning awfully close, close enough for them to know only King Dice can see their change in dynamic.

Their gaze becomes sharper, a grin appearing freshly with the still very much doe gaze and lifted brows.

They watch him falter underneath their look, but as he got lost in the (eye colour) pools of their pupils, they have to get lost in the music. It happens to be the very last line of the song coming up, so with tilting their head they tug tightly onto his tie. They jerk him forward and closer to their face, cheeks brushing against eachother, until the very moment they push him away.

They straighten their stance again, turning. Up and away again, up to the stage with supringly slow motion as they once again passed the many members of the band playing hard to get the moment right, the singer curved their fingers to ball up the fabrics of crimson sheet, looking over their shoulder longingly at their known new working partner.

They smile sweetly at him, over their shoulder, their words still smooth and collected as they maintained eye contact. "Why don't you do right; like other men do?" It almost felt personal, with one more suggestive look, they pull the curtain back and seem into the darkness of the back room.

King Dice can hear his heartbeat in his ears, surely the lights turned back on but the cheering and clapping seemed to be endless. He audibly breathed heavily, patting over his body to make sure he had in fact witnessed the scene in such detail. He felt the random toons at the bar nugging his side, flaring their eyebrows and knocking their head towards stage as a joke.

He looked around for anyone to ask of their name; but only saw the waitress from before. She was still chewing on a toothpick, but the grumpy expression lifted til there was no race on her face. He was cheering among the other people, goo-goo eyes at the person that wasn't on stage anymore. Figuring he wouldn't get the right answers from wasted people around, he gets up from his seat.

He directly goes over to her, standing with other employees, before rudely interrupting their conversations. "Hey!" He states rather abruptly, gaining a collective response other that just her attention. "What;;" he breathes, looking back at the stage and raising a hand to his head. His hat has disappeared. His eyes widen, nervously looking back at her, as the group has lost interest of his reasoning.

"What was their name??" He questions again, getting a quick snappy reply like the first time he had talked to her. "They're not interested, sir." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. He looks the toon up and down, pointing to the top of his head at the disserpearqnce of his hat. "They have my hat; and I paid good money for that."

His voice had undertones of a seethe, but he continued to watch the woman huff and gingerly shuffle towards the stage. He followed after, walking towards the door labelled as a "storage" room that was build in besides. He fixed his suit nervously, looking around the booze scented room, hearing the door open and looking in after the waitress called into the room.

"MISS/MR (NAME) (LAST NAME)!! A buster over here is lookin' for ya'!! he wants da' hat back!" He slightly froze, freezing in frame of the moment as the waitress swayed her hips and left the scene. He caught up in the moment, walking into the doorway, and with shakey hands closed the door behind him.

He recalls their last name, but definitely their first name.. his rival, and the devils new so called "number one". (Name). He sees a few steps ahead of him, he quickly but nervously flees up them in a sort of fidgety fashion. He appears in another doorway, and speaking into the small room he sees a particular scene.

They had been sitting upon their seat, a hat still upon their head, and the usual Hollywood mirror staring back at their visue. They peer at him with half lidded eyes, eyelashes fluttering, before a sensual grin pull their face.

"Hello; King."

[halfagone]

Heya Halfa!

I'm watch Hercules for the first time in a while and something about it made me think about your WonderBat dcdp fic, and gave me an idea to share with you for a fic with Diana being Danny's bio mom, could be WonderBat or not, idk, I'm still very much on a Danny/Jason kick so if it's not WonderBat that's open.

But essentially Danny was adopted by the Fenton's and maybe a checkup with Frostbite has Danny realizing there's more to his powers than being a halfa, but he doesn't know what exactly? So, I'm thinking he just tells the Fentons he wants to find his bio parents, not being out as Phantom, but Idk, and i trust your thoughts.

Basically, just Hercules as inspiration, not trying to stick to its plot, tho doing Dead on Main and Jason as Meg ajfjkshda it would be quite funny

Idk, just had to share this with you, hope it brings you some of the joy the thought brought me!!

Also have a pic of my roomie's bunny

GOSH I love Disney's Hercules! Hades is an entire mood, and I love him for it. Definitely one of my fave villains ever. But now that you mention the idea...

If we did base it off on bloodlines, where Danny is taken as a child (and like Hercules was taken from his parents in the movie), then we could always make this a Super-Wonder... Wonder-Super? Superman and Wonder Woman ship, but their relationship was very brief. This was before he and Lois had gotten together and got married. And they do canonically date sometimes, and even had a child together in at least one universe, so it wouldn't be super weird.

So basically, Danny grows up a quasi-god (quarter-god? Ugh, that's confusing-) and half-Kryptonian. Except due to his life style and exposure to ectoplasm, his Kryptonian powers don't kick in like a normal half-Kryptonians would. But he does have a measure of super hearing- which gets diagnosed as another symptom of his ADHD later. And he does have freeze-breath! Which is why people aren't super surprised if they catch some cold mist coming out of his mouth when he becomes a halfa, they're pretty sure he's just always been like that?

But for one reason or another, Danny leaves Amity Park for an extended amount of time. Oh! His family takes a vacation to a beach, somewhere nice and sunny. And then Danny gets irritated about something, or maybe there's just a fly bothering him and he glares at it from a distance only to shoot red laser eyes at it and promptly freaks the fuck out. His ectoplasm has never been red before!

He runs off to Frostbite and the Far Frozen as soon as he can, begging for the yeti to help him because there must be something wrong with him! Frostbite is awfully confused at first, and then he asks Danny if he showed any other habits or behaviors before he'd become a halfa. And so Danny explains how he could hear things most people couldn't, but he'd been diagnosed as neurodivergent, and that wasn't exactly uncommon, and then he explained how technology always worked a little funny around him even before his accident and that's why his parents never thought anything was off when their inventions were wonky around him now (he doesn't realize he has lightning manipulation from his bio!mom's side, thus accidentally zapping devices every once in a while), and a handful of other things and it all culminates into this:

Frostbite is pretty sure Danny has never been fully human.

Which would thus lead Danny onto a journey of self-discovery and self-fulfillment and oh yeah, there's a ghost Minotaur that wants to rip his head off his body and they've got a hostage to go along with them. In Danny's opinion, Red Hood makes for a very poor hostage, but he's not about to tell them that either.

I could probably go on eventually, but I adore this idea, so thank you very much for sharing it! :D <3<3<3

[lolahaurisfw]

: ̗̀➛ Abigail: Fluff Alphabet

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your adventurer’s spirit. Her parents are more traditional and boring, she’s always longed for a life of excitement and adventures. And you offer that exact lifestyle she craves. 

The secret forest, the sewers and mutant bug lair, the quarry mine, the skull cavern, the volcano. You’ve unlocked an entire new world for her to explore and experience with you.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your chest, especially if it’s on the larger side. This may be the fluff alphabet, but i’m mentioning this specifically because if you’re a man, your probably bound to develop some nice pecs with all the laborious work you do, and she’s totally into it. I just feel like she’s very into curvy or muscular people. (but she’d love your body at any size/shape)

More pg answer: you’re legs/thighs, esp if you’re curvy/plus size.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I don’t know if there’s a special name for it, but she loves the laying down and hugging position, both of you having your legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other.

She also loves the classic “head on your chest” 

If you’re sitting though, she’ll be on your lap until you get up.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I can think of a couple she’d love.

Camping in the Ginger Island jungle, near Leo’s house.

Picnic and music by the lake near Robin’s shop, specifically in the summer, where it’s warm and there’s fireflies out.

Coffee and shopping at the Night Market.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

At times she can be a bit immature, growing up she learned to be defensive and quick to assume (graveyard cutscene). Maybe in the beginning of your relationship it was more of a problem, but you learned to be patient with each other and now she’s usually pretty good at speaking her mind clearly and maturely. 

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I really don’t think she wants kids. She doesn’t want to be tied down by parenthood, she’d rather just enjoy your company and live a life of fun and adventure.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Loves receiving gifts, it’s a major love language of hers. She likes being gifted snacks and drinks the most. She doesn’t seem like much of a collector or decorator. But she does give me the vibe of someone who likes eating/snacking a lot.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

She’s not much of a hand holder, she prefers hugs and kissing. But she does like to grab your hand and drag you around places with her 💀 

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Immediate panic, you would have to calm her down and tell her your okay lmao.

Once she’s calmed down she’ll run and get the first aid kit for you, repeatedly asking if you’re okay or need to see Harvey.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

She loves joking around with you, and unfortunately for you, she also loves pranks. If you ever got seriously bothered by it or asked her to stop, she would do so and apologize. But otherwise, she’ll absolutely pull little pranks on you at least once a week or so. 

Whoopie cushions (a classic)

Moves every piece of furniture an inch to the right while your gone for the day.

Once in a while, she’ll randomly text you “where are you?” or “ETA?”, you always see the text and freeze, thinking “Oh shit, did we make plans? What am i late for?” but then she texts you again and says “just kidding!” so you can calm down and laugh about it.

One Easter she labeled 9 eggs 1-10, purposely leaving out one random number, making you think there was a missing egg you could never find. You still wonder about it today, and occasionally do a smell check around the house. It cracks her up every time she sees you do it, but she’ll never fess up.

Her favorite long running bit is this though: 

She keeps a hidden extra bottle of your most used condiment in a mini fridge in her room, and every time the one in your kitchen fridge gets about empty, she refills it just enough so theres some to use next time. 

You always think to yourself, “why does this bottle never run out? I could’ve sworn i finished the last of it yesterday?” 

Eventually you’ll figure it out though when you go to put something in her mini fridge because you’re out of space in the kitchen. 

She absolutely loses it when she gets home that evening and sees the condiment bottle sitting on the kitchen table, she knows immediately that you busted her for it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

I’ll be real, her favorite way to kiss you is just straight up making up. Doesn’t have to be sexual or lead to something sexual. She just wants to kiss you for as long as she can. 

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Showing interest and being involved in your hobbies. 

Examples: Reading every poem/story you write, brainstorming ideas with you when you’re experiencing art block, helping you hold things together during a diy project, surprising you with new exotic seeds or gardening tools in your fav color, being your sparring partner if you do martial arts, randomly ordering & gifting you new toys/figurines/etc for your collection.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you gave her a bouquet. She spent all day kicking her feet and giggling about it, and then daydreamed about you till she fell asleep. To her, the day you asked her out was the beginning of your new life together.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

You turning out to be traditional like her parents. 

(This may seem dark, but irl, there’s absolutely a possibility for someone to completely switch up after marriage/engagement) (i’m also self projecting because i’m so much like her lol)

She hates how she was raised with expectations to be a “proper young lady”, when she’s the definition of being a free-spirited tomboy. So i think deep down she’d be scared about ending up with someone who expects her to be a housewife and a SAHM. Because should that happen, she’s either stuck in unhappy marriage, or she’s forced back to her parents house. No happy ending in that scenario.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Eats rocks bruh

But seriously, here’s a personal hc of mine:

When she finds out pirates visit the island every other day, she’ll sneak off and go to the cove, challenging them to duals, playing games, drinking. They would probably really like her weirdness and adopt her as their daughter lol. 

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Babe, cutie, hot stuff.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Gemstone hunting, late night talks in the graveyard, swimming in the lakes at the mountains, goofing around on Ginger Islands beach, fighting monsters, movie theater dates, museum/library dates, playing video games, watching tv, playing with her guinea pig.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Avril Lavigne: Girlfriend & Complicated

Evanescence: Bring Me To Life

Fefe Dobson: Ghost & Stuttering

(i just think she’d like these songs a lot tbh, seems like stuff she’d listen to)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

There isn’t a single thing she keeps from you, she tells you every little weird, sad, goofy, and happy thought she has lol.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Not long, six months at most. She definitely falls fast 

(i mean she doesn’t have a lot of options, can you blame her for wanting to jump into a relationship quickly)

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Very affectionate and caring, she’ll big spoon you and tell you everything's gonna be okay. Later she’ll make you your favorite food for dinner and then turn on whatever show you want to watch. (and while you're watching tv, she'll bring David to cuddle you)

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

She likes showing off her progress on her swordsmanship. And yes she absolutely loves showing you off, she’ll go on and on about you to everyone, all the time (much to Seb’s dismay). It’s to the point her friends feel like they’re dating you too with how much they know about you LMAO.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

She loves that you fight, it’s very cool and exciting to her. And ofc she would fight with you, she actually really wishes you’d offer (please teach her to use a sword).

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Moderately well, i think she sometimes might be oblivious to others feelings (like if your upset about her pranking you, she might not realize till later because she's distracted by laughing about it), but most of the time, she can read you really well because she knows you really well.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

She wouldn’t, she’s actually waiting for you to pop the question.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Rainy days, music, ginger island, the graveyard, walks in the mountains, your house/farm, you in general, reading in the library, hanging out with sam & sab in the saloon.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 12

UH OH

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

trying to move away from writing toko like chunsoft and adding more to her character (she's traumatized she wants to be loved but she's going about it in the worst way) but in the end none of her actions are condoned. she's fucked up still sorry but written in a more sympathetic light i hope?

syo WILL be in this fic but i do my best to make her hand-wavy explanation ambiguous (fuck whatever canon says about 'textbook split personality' btw)

@moonlighttogami and @tokiwigiwi :)

Content warning tags: implication of stalking/blackmail, Toko-expected creepiness, use of violence, character death

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how much time passes when the door opens again.

“Finally,” He huffs, not bothering to turn. “Took you long enough. Honestly, how long does it take-”

He halts, as the intruder steps into the room, and quickly clicks his handbook shut. These weren’t Makoto’s footsteps. And - he surreptitiously covers his nose - that wasn’t Makoto’s smell. But he knows whose it was.

“...Toko. What do you want.” He turns and glares at the girl who has intruded on his space. She fidgets where she stands, a thin shadow of dark purple. The smell of her has grown stronger over the past few weeks, and hangs around her like a miasma.

“M-master Byakuya…”

He feels a full-bodied shiver of disgust run over his skin. “Don’t call me that.”

She ignores him, and carries on. “A-about last night…”

Right. To be completely honest, he was hoping that he had scared her enough the night before to make her leave him alone entirely. But he’s not surprised either; if she had the nerve to blatantly try and look at his secret, it wasn’t surprising that she had the boldness to try and confront him like this.

“What about last night.” He says stiffly, and she jumps as if shocked.

“I-I know about your eyes!” She blurts at last. “A-and, I know Ch-Chihiro knows it too…I, I heard you t-talking about it i-in the b-bathhouse last night…”

He feels his lip curling, revolted. Of course she had eavesdropped; she was quickly proving to be one of the more annoying stalkers he’d ever had the displeasure of dealing with. The number of people who were aware of his condition was also rapidly increasing against his will. At this point he might as well do the same as Fujisaki and announce it out loud.

Fukawa continues in her irritating stutter. “A-and…y-your envelope…” He freezes immediately, suddenly latching on to her every word.

“What did it say?” He demands, and she flinches - shivers? - arms crossing over her torso.

“I-if I t-tell you, y-you won’t w-want anything to d-do with m-me anymore…” She mutters, seemingly to herself, and he feels another wave of revulsion roll over him.

“Out with it. I already want nothing to do with you, but if you don’t speak up now-” 

What will he do? He tries to come up with a threat that can hold actual weight, but they all sound pathetic, even to himself. If only Makoto were here, he could at least get him to chase her away…how long does it take to talk to three people, anyways?

Ironically, it’s Fukawa who saves him from having to think of something. “I-I know you’re r-really mad at m-me for r-reading your secret last night,” She continues, and she’s swaying slightly, as if drunk. “U-um, I-I promise n-not to t-tell anyone! About your eyes, o-or your envelope…a-and, I’ll t-tell you mine, t-too.”

“I’m not interested.” He says flatly. “Tell me what was written in my envelope. Now.”

She shakes her head instead. “I-I know th-there’s no way for you t-to have r-read yours yet, right? S-so only I know!” The light catches on her spectacles, and it gives the illusion of two, illuminated orbs on her face. “W-which makes me m-more special than M-Makoto, or Chihiro, right?”

She sounds deranged. Her voice is pitched with desperation, and she’s breathing heavily. She takes a step closer. “I-I know all your s-secrets, and once y-you know mine…s-so you can r-rely on me, m-more than Makoto, o-or Chihiro?” Another step, and the floorboard creaks. “I-I’ll do better than th-them! And, and I can accept you f-for all your secrets, s-so, you don’t n-need them, I promise!”

“Stay back.” He snaps, shifting backwards. The revulsion was curdling, mixing with fear, and crawling down his back like something physical, like the vile, unwanted sensation of fingernails, tickling over his skin. He hates this irrational panic - she was just a girl, and a pathetic one at that - but here he was, shying away anyways, unable to discern her next move, her intentions. “I’m warning you-”

She lurches forward, and he takes an inadvertent step back. His back meets the bookshelf; he was trapped. “S-so don’t get scared,” She says, though these words really only have the opposite effect on him. “D-do you remember the news, a few y-years back? A-about Genocider S-Syo?”

Genocider Syo? The name sounds familiar, but it takes him a moment to place where he’s heard it before. It was a few years before he enrolled at Hope’s Peak, while in transit to some social gathering or another; Pennyworth had left the car radio tuned to the local news. 

“The serial killer?” He asks aloud, as he subtly searches the shelves behind him, trying to find something to use as a weapon. The tip of his index finger catches on the spine of a large, plastic-bound copy of some textbook or another, and he leverages it slowly out of the shelf, feeling sweat beginning to slicken its cover.

She nods eagerly, her braids bouncing. “I-I knew you’d kn-know about it,” She sounds relieved, somehow, voice breathless. “Y-you know, th-the first place Syo turned up was the town w-where I was b-born…i-it was my f-first crush that was the f-first victim, y’know?”

It clicks together quickly for him. The radio announcer had described bloody and ugly scenes of murder, the displayed corpses of young men and boys, all attributed to a mysterious killer with a penchant for stabbing their victims. And now standing before him was a clearly-deranged, unwell girl, well-known for her romance novels, and apparently obsessed with him.

“I-it’s okay!” She says hurriedly, as he presses himself closer to the shelf. “Sh-she only c-comes out when I-I’m really t-tired, o-or if I see b-blood…b-but, I c-can control her! I am controlling her, I promise!” She steps forward again, and this close, he can see the sickly flush on her face, the shine of sweat - tears? - down her cheeks. “I’ve b-been working s-so hard, s-so she won’t h-hurt anyone again…so it’s o-okay! I c-can be good! See?” She hiccups slightly, she must be crying. He can’t imagine why. “S-so now we can be equal, r-right?!”

She staggers towards him again, and he reacts before he can even think twice about it, yanking the book from its shelf and swinging blindly. The edge catches her across the face, whipping it sharply to the side with a sickly crack and a squeal - there’s a crest of blood, splattering up the length of the book, he can feel a few warm drops splash his hand, the skin crawling where it landed - and she crashes against the shelves with a shriek, stumbling.

“Why?!” She wails, hands shooting to her face. She sounds genuinely distraught, and she shakes as she scrubs at her nose with her palms. “I-I told you m-my biggest secret, a-and I kn-know yours…w-why won’t you tr-trust me?!”

“Trust you?!” He laughs, mirthless and a little frenzied, pitched wildly with his thudding heart. “You repulse me.” He steps forward now, book still clutched in his shaking hand. “Why would I ever trust a murderer in a killing game?”

She flinches as if his words were more physical blows, stumbling away from him and knocking against the shelf. A few books rain down, thudding open on the floor. “I-It’s not me,” She babbles, clutching at her head. “S-Syo - she’s j-just s-someone else, she’s in m-me, b-but I can c-control her, I p-promise - sh-she’s not me, she’s not me, she’s not!”

It sounds vaguely like some dramatized description of a split personality, though Byakuya had never heard of any such disorder that matched Fukawa’s apparently extreme case. Whatever the girl had going on would probably warrant its own DSM volume, but he wasn’t particularly interested in that. “I don’t care if she’s a ghost that’s possessing you or a secret twin taking your place. I want nothing to do with either of you.”

“B-but-”

“Get out.” He snarls, chest heaving. “If I hear anything - anything - on my condition, I will make you wish you were dead.” She doesn’t move, and he feels his teeth clench enough to creak. “I said, OUT.”

She darts, stumbling and stepping through one of the piles of boxes on the floor, completely breaking through the lid. Whatever was inside it stays looped around her ankle as she kicks the lid off, and clicks against the floor as she sprints away, her sobs fading as she goes.

___

For safety, he blocks off the door to the library with the chair, jamming it beneath the handles.

Then, he waits for Makoto, pacing, agitated. Really, how long could it take to accompany one person to talk to three people? His clock in his handbook stated that hardly an hour had passed since Makoto first left, and ten minutes since he sent Fukawa away. Surely, he had to be coming back eventually?

Not that there was anything keeping Byakuya in the library, other than his own uncertainty regarding his safety. Considering that he knew Fukawa’s alternate identity, and her apparent infatuation with him, it would be foolish to make the trek back to his room alone.

He stops pacing, frustration and restlessness boiling over. And returns to the files, shuffling through them, handbook held aloft to read the names printed on the edge of each folder, ignoring the ones that clatter to the ground after he shoves them haphazardly back. Finally, he comes across the one he's looking for, and slides it out of the shelf.

The front of it is stamped with the title in silver: ‘The Murder Cases of Genocider Syo: Top Secret’. He flips it open.

The text is interspersed with images of the victims before and after their unfortunate encounters with Fukawa. He can’t make much out about them, other than the fact that all the murder scenes seemed similar enough; photos of pale bodies, stretched out as if crucified, splattered with blood. Their faces, which must have been twisted with agony, are merely dark smudges.

“...As with the other cases, at the scene of the crime the word ‘BLOODLUST’ was written with the victim’s blood,” Alter Ego reads aloud. “The scissors used in the murder were apparently custom-made, with every pair left at each murder scene seeming to be of the same material and construction…”

How vile. He flips through the pages (one of which is annoyingly wrinkled, and furthermore, smudged with dirt), reading through the victim's descriptions. There was a sort of morbid curiosity that drew him to read further, even as his stomach turned with the knowledge that he could end up like one of these men; pinned like a butterfly for the killer to admire and laud over.

He snaps the file shut at last, feeling nauseous, and sinks down with his back against the shelf, suddenly exhausted - the adrenaline from Fukawa’s confrontation is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Sluggishly, he categorizes what he knows:

One: Fukawa was also Genocider Syo, a notorious serial killer who targeted young men.

Two: Fukawa both knew he was blind, and the contents of his envelope. He reaches into his pocket and feels for it, the paper now crinkled and warped. He still can’t bring himself to try and use Alter Ego to read its contents, but so long as Fukawa knew…there was little he could do about it.

That brought him to three: Fukawa was apparently obsessed with him. That was clear from the start, but he underestimated how dangerous her infatuation was. What she wanted from him was, apparently, some kind of romanticized relationship, if her mutterings about mutually sharing secrets and calling him ‘master’ was anything to go by, but nothing that could possibly be built on equal footing. Not if she was trying to leverage the envelope’s contents and his blindness against him.

He pauses at that. Did Fukawa know he was capable of using Alter Ego through his handbook to read? If she did, then there was no point in her trying to hold it over him. But then that meant she might try to manipulate him in other ways, the most simplest being blackmail. For that, he’d need to silence her…

And to do that, I would need to kill.

He drums his fingers against the hardwood floor. It’d be hard, but he could do it. She was already fixated on him, it should be easy enough to lure her somewhere and take care of her, either with a blunt-force weapon or strangulation - stabbing was too messy with the blood splatter - but the real difficulty then was how to conceal his tracks. 

He thinks for a moment of Maizono, and how she had swapped rooms with Makoto solely for this intention. He thought her foolish then, but in hindsight, it really was an impressive display of quick thinking…though, it wasn’t one that he could copy.

What if he did it in a shared space? In one of the empty classrooms? People hardly went into these rooms, and it’d be harder to pin down the culprit. But he’d have to be fast about it, and careful; anyone who sees him or Fukawa entering that space, or leaving it, could easily identify him as the suspect. It’d have to happen at night.

But, she’s also smarter than she looks… He rubs at his temples now, frowning. She might see the similarities between this and Maizono’s attempt, and realize it’s a trap. I can’t risk that. It’d be easier if I could easily pin it on someone, but the amount of people who might be stupid or willing enough to let themselves be used…

The list was very short. Makoto, who was already a non-option. Yamada, who was too closely allied with Celeste to be trusted. Hagakure, who was too paranoid to be easily led into anything anyways...

And Chihiro.

He’s suddenly struck with the realization that if he succeeds, the others die. It would not be just one person’s blood on his hands, it would be multiple, including those he chooses not to directly involve. He hesitates, for an instant - and then lowers his hands slowly, a sense of defeat settling over him.

He’s already failed before he even started. This game could only have one winner, and if he could not fully commit himself to that role and accept the consequences of it, then he was never a real competitor to begin with. Circles within circles. He was back to the start.

Frustration isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since he’s felt so overwhelmed with it, as he tilts his head back, knocking it against the shelf as he stares blankly at the brown fog of the ceiling. And then slams a fist against the floor, hissing venomous, ugly curses under his breath. If only he had his eyes, again - he wouldn’t need to be so concerned with such things, wouldn’t need to waver - and yet.

Where the hell is Makoto? He thinks numbly, exhausted with it all. He was sick of being left with nothing but his nerves, and how long did it take to talk to just three people anyways?

Thump, thump, thump.

A rhythmic banging snaps him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he thinks it’s coming from the door, and clumsily pushes himself up, while fumbling for something, anything, to use as a weapon - his hands find the hard, stiff cover of a case file, still on the floor - and stares down the door, waiting for someone to break through it-

But nothing. The chair that’s stuck under the doorknob hasn’t even budged, from what he can tell. The banging continues, and he realizes it sounds more like hammering than knocking. It wasn’t even against the library door.

Construction? Hagakure did mention hearing construction sounds earlier. Was Monokuma building something again?

The sound ends, replaced by footsteps approaching his door. He tenses, taking a step back, but a moment later, the footsteps patter down the hall and away, fading out of earshot. 

He stays where he is for a long moment, caught between terror and curiosity. Curiosity wins out, and he steps slowly to the door, hesitating once more with one hand on the chair.

But before he can even do anything, the air is pierced by a blood-curdling scream, and he throws the chair away, yanking the door open-

Only to be met with the sight of Chihiro Fujisaki’s corpse.

< previous - from start - next >

[littleladymab]

OC Kiss Week - Sunrise

So this one i KNOW is the right day because everyone else is posting sunrise themed kisses today 😌

This one is also thanks to @bottlingsound and @laprismaluna! This is mine and Cara's "everything fine and nothing goes wrong" AU in which Ayn and Catoir get to be domestic and normal. 

Happy Valentine's i'm normal about them!!!!

+++

As soon as Ayn takes her spot on the blanket next to him, Catoir slumps over so his head is on her shoulder. “I thought you were a morning person,” she chides, awkwardly adjusting the blanket around both of them and then tucking her arm through his. “It’s almost 8AM, I waited as long as I could.”

“Yeah, on New Year's day,” he answers back. “The one day people should be allowed to sleep in.”

“You were awake already, I don’t see what the problem is. I’m the one that woke up early.”

He responds with a huff of breath that only makes his glasses fog up. It’s a testament to how much of a protest he’s making that he doesn’t bother wiping them off. “But it was warm inside.”

“Oh, so you’re a baby that doesn’t like the cold.”

“Says the girl who has been complaining how cold it was every morning for the past month.”

Ayn pouts, because he’s right, and it is freezing, and she’s already lost sensation in her nose, but the point of the matter is that he’s being difficult just to be difficult. And she’s the one who is better at drama. “Don’t you want to welcome in the new year by seeing the sunrise?” she asks innocently, and gestures broadly at the still dark sky before them. Enough that it knocks the blanket from her shoulders and lets in a breath of chilled air. Grudgingly, Catoir has to move to adjust the blanket. “Who cares about midnight and fireworks — it’s the first glimpse of morning that really sets the new year on the right foot!”

“I hate the sun,” he says matter of factly, tucking in the edges of the blanket around them.

She bumps her shoulder against his and bats her eyelashes when he glares at her. “You’re supposed to say ‘no, love, I adore seeing you first thing in the morning’!”

Catoir lifts an eyebrow, and gives her an incredibly skeptical look. “You’ve clearly never seen yourself first thing in the morning.”

Ayn’s jaw drops, though no quip immediately comes to her lips.

There’s the hint of a smile, though she can tell that he’s trying to hide it. “Your hair gets all over the place. And you drool.”

“Well,” she finally manages, aghast. “If that’s how you really feel.”

He has enough time to give her a questioning look before she scoots away, taking her blanket with her. “Wait,” he says, laughing and twisting around to try and catch her. “Ayn, c’mon, it’s cold.”

“Just like you,” she sniffles dramatically and it only renews his laughter.

His arms wrap around her waist, as she’s hindered by trying to keep herself cocooned in the blanket and make her escape at the same time. “Forgive me, for I would not be up here if it were not for you. Freezing weather or sweltering sun, where you go I go.” Despite the teasing and dramatic words, she can hear the sincerity in his tone, so she heaves a heavy sigh and sends a puff of white condensation in the air between them.

“Oh, alright,” she concedes, and allows him to reel her back to the blanket she has spread out on the roof of their building. “I’m going to hold you to that next time I have to go to visit my mother—”

Catoir closes his eyes, a strained expression on his face, as he says, “The sacrifices I make for you.”

“Bedhead and all?”

“Yes, I suppose I can forgive the bedhead now and then.”

She pinches him in the side beneath the blanket and he squirms, unable to make an escape lest he risk the cold.

“No, love, I adore seeing you first thing in the morning!” he recites and catches her hand before she can pinch him again. He presses a kiss to her fingers, warming them with a breath. “Bedhead and all.”

Ayn catches him with the tips of her fingers beneath the chin when he releases her hand. And as the sun rises on the first day of the new year, he leans in and kisses her.

[thesoupinursocks]

Part Two

stupid little things that i hc for hjp

-his favorite kind of music is 90s R&B bc thats what he grew up with, he absolutely cannot stand wixen music no matter how hard he trys

-he HATES pizza. hates it.

-he got bullied into getting a new pair of glasses when he got older bc his old one finally got broken beyond repair and when he got the new prescription he just kept stairing at trees and saying "oh my godric mione theres like actual leaves on the trees. like i can see every individual one."

-his favorite icecream is strawberry cheesecake, but a close second is cookie dough

-he has this really big sweatshirt he shrinks to carry around in his pocket werever he goes bc its so usefull when he gets cold

-talking abt getting cold, this mf is FREEZING 24/7. not a warm bone in his body. his teeth r chattering in 40° weather and his fingers turn blue if hes outside too long.

-he is slightly deaf in his right ear, partially from the killing curse messing with him, and also bc he fell down the stairs when he was like 4 and smashed his frontal lobe on the linoleum floor, and it never healed right.

-his favorite animals are snakes (obvi) and sometimes he goes to muggle pet shops to go talk to them bc he gets so sad that there locked in a glass cage and cant get out

-he has really bad blood circulation and when he sits criss cross his legs will go numb and when he trys to walk it off he looks like an idiot and his friends laugh at him

-pravati and padma and still friends with him and will invite him to hang out so they can paint his nails and try to fix his hair

-he was always tanner then alot of the kids at privit drive, bc he wasnt white, but he never got out much in the summers bc he wasn't allowed to so he always looked more pasty than he should have. the summer after the war he spent so much time outside and he tanned so much that when get went back for 8th year minerva thought he was james for a second

-he loves making friendship bracelets for people but hes so bad at them because of how shaky his hands are but everyone he gifts one too never complains.

-he has a necklace with the sirius star constellation

-he bought a magic ring that shows the moon and what phase it is the moment he looks at it, because he can never seem to keep track of it for the life of him and he wants to be able to for remus

-sometimes when he wakes up his hair does weird things so he grabs a pair of sissors and hacks off the bits that stick out bc "it will grow back hermione it really doesnt matter that much"

-he helped the twins pull a prank on ron so that every cup he drank out of for two weeks would flip itself upside down into his lap. ron eventually just started drinking with a straw though

-he and hermione lie to ron about muggle things all the time because its fucking hilarious to see him believe anything they say.

-he stole a street cat that was wandering around his flat one time bc it bothered him that it didnt have a home, and he named it "shitass" because it was the loudest and most annoying cat harry had ever met.

-he is expected to be late to class by most of his teachers. when he shows up on time it's like an actual surprise

-his full name is actually Haris James Potter and he had no clue until when remus was repremanding him and said his full name and he was like "..who?"

-harry has extensive knowledge on periods because of how much hermione complains about hers

-he only drinks his coffee black but he puts a shit load of honey into his tea

-he has a hard time differentiating his left from his right

-he sucks at spelling. actually once spelt his own name wrong on a assignments and snape graded him down for it.

[m1d-45]

midas you are KILLING me /pos

oh my god he doesn’t dare to go near anything that has even the slightest trace of you, much less the real you. the idea of tainting you with his presence makes him feel sick.

but oh, how he longs for your divine light to shine on him like it used to. sometimes his self-imposed exile is almost too much to bear, and it takes everything in him not to prostrate himself before you and let every single thought and apology spill from his lips. then he remembers the fear in your eyes, the expression that haunts his every waking moment and seeps into his dreams. to have to see that expression again, all because he put aside your comfort for his own selfish reasons, would completely shatter whatever remained of his heart.

nobody sees much of the cavalry captain anymore. he spends most of the day locked up in his office, even when you leave mondstadt to visit other nations. he’s noticeably absent from taverns, and even his patrols are far away from other people. it definitely has more than a few people worried, the way kaeya’s isolating and neglecting himself, but how do you comfort someone who murdered a god?

(oh my god. klee wanting to cheer kaeya up, and being around the creator always cheers her up, so she decides to surprise him with a visit from you! surely that’ll make big brother kaeya feel better! ueueue (<- soung of crying))

also. kaeya in high heels. yeag. he’s a bad bitch he deserves to slay - teddy anon

teddy. teddy my fucking heart. TEDDY.

he’s always had this mentality of him being “lesser” than those around him, even if he covers it up with theatrics and flair. now, it’s only worse, and he cant decide if the fact that he still has his blessings is a sign of favor or simply you not being bothered, or not wanting to interact with him again.

on his patrols, he doesn’t wield the sword you gave him, instead preferring to strap on one of the standard-issue swords for the knights. he’s so used to yours, to not having to worry about such things when his weapon was tucked in the space between realities, that the first few times he gets hurt. he’s not used to the new weight or how much heavier on his feet he is, disoriented at how long it takes to finish off enemies. when they fall, he’s still expecting to be switched out, to be healed. the knights had taken him off of field missions after he was blessed with your light to properly allow him rest, but now… he’s not used to fighting without you. he has to think about strategy, about dodging, he can’t be reckless and know you’ll cover him because you’re not there.

and klee….

klee who was kept out of the hunt, naturally, who wasn’t told of kaeya’s crimes other than a “he made a mistake” from albedo.

she’s made mistakes before! and she’s starting to miss him, it’s been so long since she’s seen him… she knows just what to do!

with a bit of convincing, albedo agrees to get kaeya to a lunch at good hunter later in the week. he’s worried for him too, and an hour or two of lost work can’t really set him behind all that much, considering his prior habits.

with that set, klee goes off to find you. with a bit of help from amber, she finds you talking with diluc outside of the angel’s share, ciders in hand.

you greet her with a smile and correct her hat, and klee doesn’t think twice before asking you,

“do you wanna go to lunch later with me and kaeya?”

diluc freezes, glass half-way to his lips. you don’t see it, but amber’s smile falters.

they know klee is likely trying to do good, unaware of what kaeya had done, but they do know.

you smile. “i’d love to! where are we going?”

amber and diluc share a glance.

“your grace…”

“kaeya has been rather busy as of late, not even showing up to the tavern.” it was only half a lie. kaeya wasn’t busy at all—in fact, he heard the knights talk about how he’d taken on their work in an effort to keep busy and be useful. “i’m sure he appreciates your efforts, klee, but-“

“i haven’t seen him all week! brother albedo is always saying about how you need to take breaks, right? and he hasn’t! and he’s been in a bad mood, not even talking to klee!” diluc’s face sours. “besides! talking to you-“ she turns to you with a grin “-always makes me feel better!”

“it sounds like a good idea to me,” you say. “and i’ve been wanting to see him for a while now. i know the knights are busy-“ they’re not. “-but still, klee is right. breaks need to be taken.”

klee beams, and diluc hopes you grant his brother some grace.