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pomefioredove · 2 days

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could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus enjoyers this goes out to you. and rook being weird enjoyers (me)#cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #the varying lengths of these... RIP. sorry everyone

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intheupside · 2 days

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But to suggest MacKinnon doesn't pay attention to the world around him would be inaccurate -- because he does. Especially when the conversation turns to what happened at the NHL All-Star Game back in February. More specifically, when he and Crosby posed for a picture with Justin Bieber.

Bieber stood between Crosby and MacKinnon with the pop star leaning closer to Crosby. The running joke on social media was that Bieber was going to crop MacKinnon out of the photo.

And then the joke became reality. Bieber posted several pictures from All-Star Weekend, including one of just him and Crosby, with the only vestige of MacKinnon being his right shoulder and his No. 29.

Others noticed. The most-liked comment on Bieber's feed was about MacKinnon, with someone writing, "damn mackinnon got the crop." It led to several responses ranging from, "what'd he ever do to you justin" to "i'm not even an avs fan and this hurts me lol."

Another person chimed in to say, "but I mean ... It's Crosby ..." followed by someone else stating "but its also mackinnon. Who eventually will be a hall of famer."

So what does MacKinnon think of all this?

"Yeah, I don't blame him," MacKinnon said with a smile. "It's Sidney Crosby! He's an icon! A Canadian icon! I get it. I'm not like a household name. I know that, and that's OK. It's just funny to me. I'm not offended. Justin seemed like a nice guy."

from espn

#pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby #nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche

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neos127 · 2 days

Text

— starboy

actor!sim jaeyun x fem!reader; genre. non idol au, actor au, fluff + headcanons

actor!jake who…is a very good looking man. the first time you two met at a table read, you were sure you were in love. being an actress, you’ve worked with many attractive people before so it wasn’t anything new. but you were positive that jake was the most handsome co-star you ever had. you would always catch yourself looking at his lips when he read his lines— jake would catch you as well.

actor!jake who…is a big flirt. the man can make anyone fall to their knees within seconds and he finds it amusing. you happen to be jake’s favorite victim as he loves giving you his attention. it is easy to make you flustered, especially while filming intimate scenes.

actor!jake who…is a natural when it comes to having chemistry with any of his co-stars. even with the photo shoots the two of you did together, fans could sense the crazy amount of chemistry you both had.

actor!jake who…is absolutely obsessed with you. he becomes your shadow basically, your assistant is hardly needed anymore. you need more water, he’s on it! you’re cold? he’ll hand you his hoodie/jacket because he likes how you look in his clothes. you’re bored while getting your hair and makeup done? jake will sit with you and yap your ear off.

actor!jake who…has stopped paying attention to other girls as soon as he meets you. lots of fans and even extras try to get his attention, but it’s always on you. he looks at you as if you hung all the stars in the sky, and everyone can see that but you.

actor!jake who…buys you breakfast before filming or coffee if you drink it. he’ll also offer to travel to set together, even though it’s not necessary he just wants to be close to you.

actor!jake who…posts you all the time on his instagram. fans start to speculate if the two of you are dating since the man seems to be so obsessed. there hasn’t been a time where a week has gone by and jake hasn’t posted you or something related to you on his story at least once.

actor!jake who…asks you out on a date once filming is over. you were surprised, assuming that jake had his eye on someone else. you agreed anyway, enjoying your time together and ogling athow handsome he looked for the date. jake always looked good, but the combination of his black button up shirt and slicked back hair made your insides melt.

actor!jake who…invites you to watch your drama together at his apartment so the two of you can cuddle and binge on snacks. he asks you to be his girlfriend that night, which you said yes too and kissed the man all over his face. jake felt like the happiest man alive knowing that you were finally his and that he could show you off.

actor!jake who…confirms your relationship to the public about a month in by posting a picture of him kissing you on the cheek. fans went absolutely insane but loved you two regardless considering that your relationship was a tad bit obvious from the start.

©neos127

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calicoheartz · 3 days

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Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her

The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢

summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡

wc; 346

warnings : none , just fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈

Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.

The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.

But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.

After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.

Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.

“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.

As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.

Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.

her post 🥹❤️

liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others

caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍

sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊

#wlw #wcbb #wlw imagine #caitlin clark #wcbb x reader #caitlin clark x reader #headcannons #my hcs #iowa wbb #kate martin

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roxxie-wolf · 1 day

Text

𝒜 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇

Chapter 1 ⭐️

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helping Angel from getting a beating to entering a hotel and meeting someone who you will become close with.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: bad choking, bad word, idk what else. If there’s something else please let me know.

Note: I will post for this one every Saturday. I’m not so sure how I did. I tried though.😭

MDNI

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣

You were getting ready for the next shoot today after days of shooting, wondering when Valentino would let you rest. “Hey are you ready yet,” Valentino's angry voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m going” Frustrated, you confirmed that you were, putting on the last piece, a garter belt. Standing up and fixing yourself, you headed out.

As you stepped out, the bright lights of the set blinded you for a moment. Valentino was pacing back and forth.

“Finally,” he muttered as he saw you, but the edge in his voice softened when he took in your appearance. “You look… perfect.” Valentino shoots you a grin crossing his arms. “Alright then amorcito take a sit on the bed and get ready,”

You didn’t have the energy to respond with anything more than a nod. You made your way towards the heart shaped bed. The set was bustling with activity, everyone moving to the rhythm of a silent, urgent symphony. You took your place, the camera lens focusing on you.

On your left, a door swung open and out stepped Angel, donning a garter belt as well. As you positioned yourself, a demon stood beside you, patiently waiting. Meanwhile, another demon eagerly awaited Angel's next move.

As Angel neared, Valentino rose from his seat, reaching out to grasp Angel's neck and lift him high. With a surge of urgency, you leaped from the bed, shouting, "Let him go, pay attention to me!" Seizing Valentino's arm, you tried to pry him away from Angel's neck.

Valentino's grip on Angel tightened, his eyes blazing with an anger that seemed to consume him. You could see the confusion and fear in Angel's eyes, a plea for help that was silent but loud in its desperation.

Baffled by Valentino's actions, you sensed his longstanding anger towards Angel. "Where have you been, you insolent brat," Val's words lashed out as his other hand shoved you to the ground. Undeterred, you rose to your feet once more, pleading, "Val, I need your assistance, please."

For a moment, Valentino's eyes flickered towards you a look of surprise and confusion. “What do you need now you bitch,” his words came out with a hint of venom. “I - I need you to come here with me, I have to show you something,” you stammered, approaching him cautiously swaying your hips. Slowly, the pressure around Angel's neck lessened. Angel gasped for air, collapsing to the ground as Valentino released him completely.

A sinister grin played on Valentino's lips, intrigued by your cryptic request. With his focus now on you, Val advanced and seized your face with two hands while securing your hips with the other two. As you gazed past him, you witnessed Angel on the floor, struggling for breath, sitting up coughing and rubbing his neck. His eyes wide with a mix of gratitude and confusion.

Valentino's voice jolted you back to attention as he demanded, “What are you looking at?”Startled, you turned your focus back to him, "Nothing," gently placing your hand on Valentino's that rested on your cheek, offering a forced smile. Though fear gripped you, you refused to let it show. Angel watched as you reached out to Val.

“Let’s continue the shoot shall we?,”you whispered softly. "Very well, let’s continue," Valentino responded, clapping his hands to signal the team to resume their tasks. You were relieved that he had listened to you. You guess it was because he was desperate to finish this shoot.

Valentino had a vision, and he expected nothing but perfection from you. The pressure was on as you settled into your first pose, feeling the heat of the lights beating down on your skin. The demon beside you adjusted your position, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

The shoot seemed to drag on for hours, each moment filled with tension and anticipation. Valentino was a perfectionist, and he didn't settle for anything less than flawless. Sweat trickled down your back as you pushed your body to its limits, contorting and twisting in ways you never thought possible.

As the shoot finally came to an end, you collapsed onto the bed, your body aching and exhausted. Valentino's voice cut through the silence, his tone approving but demanding more. You knew there would be no rest for the wicked, especially not when Valentino was involved.

The studio lights dimmed, signaling the end of a grueling day. The air was thick with the scent of hard work and the faintest hint of satisfaction from Valentino's rare nod of approval. You lay there on the bed, every muscle crying out for reprieve.

Valentino's shadow loomed over you, his figure outlined by the backlight. "You did well today amorcito," the term of endearment rolling off his tongue with a familiarity that belied the tension between you. "But we both know you can do even better,” His grin didn't reach his eyes, and it was clear that his praise was a double-edged sword.

You met his gaze, your own eyes heavy with exhaustion. Words were unnecessary; your silence spoke volumes. The last thing you wanted was his proximity, his presence a reminder of the power he wielded.

Val turned around and left. You were left alone on the bed, the imprint of the day's events heavy in the air. But you wouldn't allow the weight to pin you down. With a strength born of necessity, you pushed yourself off the bed and moved towards the sanctuary of your room. Each step was a small victory, a defiance of the control he sought to maintain.

Valentino's softness was a facade, a manipulation you had come to recognize all too well. You knew better than to let your guard down, to mistake his gentleness for kindness. In this dance of shadows and light, you had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of Valentino's moods.

As you closed the door behind you, the click of the latch was a temporary barrier, a momentary breath of safety in a world where you had to be ever vigilant.

The room was your sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world couldn't reach you. As you sat at the vanity, the layers of the day's persona fell away with each piece of makeup you removed. The knock on the door was soft, almost hesitant, but it shattered the solitude you were clinging to.

Angel's figure filled the doorway, his posture uncharacteristically subdued. "Hey toots," he murmured, a term of endearment that felt out of place in the silence of the room.

You glanced past him, ensuring the coast was clear, before stepping aside to let him in. The click of the door shutting behind him was a definitive sound, a full stop to the day's sentence.

"I just came to say thank you for earlier," his voice tinged with a nervousness that didn't quite match the cocky persona he projected on set. His hand went to the back of his neck, a self-soothing gesture that spoke volumes.

"Sure no problem, anytime," you responded with a wink, injecting a bit of levity into the moment.

“Hey, do ya want to come with me somewhere?”the prospect of an escape from the day's drama was like a breath of fresh air. Angel's invitation was a welcome distraction, a chance to step out of the role you had been playing and just be yourself for a while.

"Where?" your curiosity piqued.

"To the hotel. I want to introduce ya to some of my friends," his cheerfulness infectious. It was clear he was looking forward to the evening as much as you were. The idea of meeting new people, experiencing something different, was enticing.

"Sure why not! But first, let me change and put something more decent," the excitement bubbling up inside you. The thought of getting out, even if just for a few hours, was exhilarating.

As Angel waited patiently, you rifled through your wardrobe, selecting something that was comfortable yet chic. Tonight was about unwinding, about finding a moment of normalcy in the whirlwind of your profession.

Dressed and ready, you glanced at Angel, who gave you an approving nod. "Let's go," he smiled, and you couldn't help but return it.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.⭐️

TAGLIST: @hazelfoureyes

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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mimisempai · 1 day

Text

Dancing to the music of their hearts

Summary

After dinner at restaurant, Aziraphale drags a reluctant demon into a merry dance in the middle of the street. Will Crowley allow himself to be softened?

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #49: Short and sweet kiss after meeting up for a date.

On Ao3

Rating G - 420 words

Aziraphale took a deep breath as they left Justine's at closing time as usual and exclaimed, "It was scrumptious again."

The demon chuckled and replied, "You always say that."

"Because it's true," Aziraphale replied, hooking his arm with Crowley's as they walked slowly up the street toward the bookshop.

They had barely taken a few steps when the angel suddenly stopped and said in an excited voice, "Oh? Do you hear that music?"

Paying attention, Crowley also heard some music that sounded like it was coming from Mr. Arnold's, but he had no time to react as Aziraphale had wrapped an arm around his waist, grabbed his other hand, and began to spin him around.

Crowley yelped, "Angel! What are you doing?"

Aziraphale playfully replied, "Dancing. With you."

"But we are in the middle of the street!"

Aziraphale continued to waltz them to the beat of the music and replied, "So what? It's dark and there's hardly anyone around."

Crowley, who had no choice but to go along, grumbled, "But still."

Aziraphale said, slowing down a bit, "Besides, even if the street was crowded, even if it was daytime, what does it matter?"

Crowley mumbled, "I don't know how to move to this kind of music."

The angel's hand tightened around his waist and he squeezed the demon's hand into his own before replying, "But you trust me, don't you?"

Crowley, offended that the angel would even dare ask such a question, replied hotly, "You know I do, Angel!"

Aziraphale smiled broadly and replied softly, "Then all you have to do is let me lead you. You can do that, can't you?"

Crowley could only soften at the genuine question and simply nodded.

Aziraphale pressed a light kiss to his cheek and said softly, "Thank you.

Then the demon let himself be drawn into the dance without further resistance.

With his eyes on the angel's face as they turned, Crowley thought it didn't matter if it was crowded or not, dark or light. Aziraphale looked so happy, his eyes shining with joy, his cheeks flushed from the dance, his smile bright, the rest didn't matter.

So, taking advantage of a slight lull in the dance, he leaned his face into his lover's happy one and pressed his lips to his in a sweet and tender kiss.

They continued to kiss and turn, intertwined in the middle of the street, and even when the music stopped, they continued to dance together to the rhythm of the love song in their hearts.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

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worldunbent · 1 day

Text

a difference between the experience of reading the natsuyuu manga and watching the anime which is only interesting to me is that there's no distinction between special chapters and regular ones in the anime. the reason i find that interesting is that the specials are, so far in my reread, the only chapters that spend any time completely outside of natsume's POV. when we see other characters' perspectives in regular chapters, it's typically part of an extended monologue or a memory being transmitted to natsume, so we're still not really leaving his perspective. the only times we leave his POV are when he's physically not present in a scene, and in those instances we usually don't get any narration or interior monologue from the other characters.

tanuma in "a suspicious visitor" is the only exception i can think of off the top of my head, though i'm sure there are others i'll get to and just don't remember at the moment. the scene between matoba and ban at the end of the homura arc, for example, is outside of natsume's POV by necessity but is pure dialogue with no interior narration because these are not characters to whom we have that kind of access! (for more on matoba's elusive subjectivity see sp15, says tumblr user worldunbent.)

the special chapters jump all over the place; so far i've gotten to chapters from the perspectives of little fox, an unnamed youkai, nyanko, tanuma, and hinoe (although hinoe's chapter is framed as a story she's telling natsume, so it could have fit in a regular chapter). they have a separate numbering system from the regular chapters, are much shorter, and almost always come at the end of volumes*. in the anime, however, there's absolutely nothing to distinguish the episodes adapting the specials from the ones adapting regular chapters other than the POV shifts, which gives anime-only viewers a very different impression of how the series approaches character interiority. i don't think there's anything wrong with this as an adaptation move and it's pretty much necessary, but it's just notable because in a series that's all about how people see the world differently, the choice to make such a distinction between chapters in the protagonist's POV and chapters from everyone else's POV is a significant one.

the reason i'm paying so much attention to POVs in this reread in the first place is because i've been listening to the podcast media club plus and jack, who is pretty new to anime, keeps pointing out the constant perspective shifts in hunter x hunter and the other hosts are like, "yeah, that's normal." this post from another listener expands on how and why it works as a genre norm in shonen battle anime/manga specifically. so now i'm just cursed to be hyperaware of POV shifts in anime/manga, and given that the three series i'm reading/watching at the moment are hxh, dungeon meshi, and natsuyuu, natsuyuu really stands out in how rarely it leaves natsume's head in the regular chapters. i guess i need to go read some more shoujo for a larger sample size lol

*i have a chapter spreadsheet 🤓 and the exceptions to this are sp18, which is just stuck in the middle of v22, sp20, which is the second-to-last chapter of v24, and sp21, which is the first chapter of v25. i understand the placement of sp20, which is "intermission detectives" and makes sense to have as an break between regular chapters, but i'll have to figure out what sp18&21 are doing when i get to them.

#i think as i get to more plot-heavy arcs with more characters there will be some POV shifts within regular chapters #but either it hasn't happened yet in what i've reread or i haven't noticed lol #natsuyuu.txt #the conversation between ban and matoba is fun to me because it's one of those only times in a regular chapter #that the reader gets access to concrete information that natsume doesn't have #there are definitely other moments like this such as the locked room in the miharu arc #but that's more about characterization and vibes.#after 100 chapters midorikawa is finally like you can have some dramatic irony. as a treat.

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violetstormms · 2 days

Text

DCA x Reader Random Recommendation Corner Post 2

Welcome to the random recommendation corner. Here fics are recommended that sounded interesting but I have not gotten the chance to check out yet. This means that besides the description I have no idea what they contain so pay extra attention to tags and read at your own discretion. Some may eventually make it onto the regular recommendation list as this is essentially my “to read” list. If you are curious about the symbols before the fics you can check out the pined post for an explanation. This will be the same message before every post so you can just skip to read more if you have read this once.

*Diving in stars, all alone by zofifi

archiveofourown.org/works/54275623/chapters/137453173

You are a space pilot. For the last few months your only job was testing new attempts at hyperspace engines.

But none of the prototypes ever worked. Until today.

Stranded at the edge of a solar system where the wider universe begins. What will you find there?

*Wintersweet Spirit by NaffEclipse

archiveofourown.org/works/55202458/chapters/140007037

Your visit to a beautiful, tucked-away mountain town leaves you curious about the beliefs of a mythical beast who watches over the peaks and snowy ranges. An ill-advised trek toward the summit sends you tumbling directly into the mythical beast's domain as you must accept his guiding hand to endure the harsh mountaintop.

He is power and brightness, and the only one who can carry you through the snow.

-*I Can't Give You Anything But Love by Kurpo

archiveofourown.org/works/54766792/chapters/138807373

You're just a simple mechanic. You run a scrap, mechanic shop. You mentor a young kid, Gregory in your field.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It was just going to be a simple scavenging at the old Fazbear Theme Park. In and out. Gregory's first experience out in the Glowing Wasteland.

Yet, you end up facing two synths Gregory accidentally wakes. What are you to do when you're faced with two pre-war synths that have no idea 200 years have passed?

Time can pass, but civilization will always find a way to survive.

`Wasteland, Baby! by orphan_account, theberryboi

archiveofourown.org/works/54608833/chapters/138371674

The last thing they expected when emerging from the woods was to find the downfall of civilization. And the last thing you expected to find was them.

*Maybe Villains Aren't So Bad by ArtemisRed

archiveofourown.org/works/54726241/chapters/138698338

You work for the city's best heroes working to fight the villains and keep the city safe. But when two new villains come into town, your job starts looking a lot harder to commit to

`Unexpected Attraction by MeeluDrawz

archiveofourown.org/works/55008391/chapters/139451968

Three years ago, you entered and lost a competition to design a new and original animatronic design. Now, after moving on with your life, you see the fruits of your labor on a news announcement for Fazbear Entertainment's newest animatronic.

~To Shallower Waters by FalseNaiveDreams

archiveofourown.org/works/54970138/chapters/139348009

Everything was good! It was all fine, the Aurora had everything needed to explore the planet they were headed to.

Nobody understands what went wrong, or how it all happened. Sun and Moon seem to be the only survivors.

----------

When a large titanium mass crashes into the planet, you're excited, finally, something new!

But it turns out you weren't the only one who wanted to investigate, the Reapers, too, also wanted to see what prey lurked within the waters near the crash.

And now there's two finless creatures who seem to live inside a floating den, how curious!

...Perhaps they can figure out what's going on with the infected creatures?

+Employees of Pizza Plex by Galacticbunny

archiveofourown.org/works/55045201/chapters/139551190

You started working at the Grand Fazco Super Pizza Plex! What could go wrong?

This is a story about making friends, falling in love, and maybe trying to avoid getting killed by an unknown killer who seems to be one of your coworkers.

No biggie!

~My Celestial Beasts by Adaya_Hearts

archiveofourown.org/works/46103137/chapters/116056426

You have always been fascinated by marine life. Always. Of course your first job would be as a Caretaker for magnificent and exotic creatures that could have only been found in fairy tales. Except they're not.

Here, you find how horrible they have been treated, and you want to change that. Little do you know, your act of kindness rewards you with being the favorite of two leviathans...

[Just slow updates cause I'm Hella busy. But I will finish this book!]

*Technicos Titanum by Kajetan563

archiveofourown.org/works/54701182/chapters/138630505

To think that there were great machines before space stations… It almost sounds absurd. Unfortunately for me, the existence of those machines is somehow real. I never wanted to get into this mess, but I have to deal with the hijinks that followed.

Let me tell you how it went down, from the very beginning.

~Afton's Folk Tale by Cecezu

archiveofourown.org/works/52884742/chapters/133769974

Selkie Y/N is on a personal quest to find their mother who was stolen by a human. They had to separate from their pod to do so and brave the unknown world of said humans. They however do not notice the red eyes that watch them. Nor do they realize how much attention a mysterious person showing up out the woods would gain in a small town. Pulled between their quest and Eclipses claws will they be able to find their mother and manage to not enrage the Orca siren?

In this world Fazco is well known for their mystical creature zoo's. The corporation has risen in popularity when they started to showcase creatures that are going extinct because of monster hunters and the creatures being abused for the materials they give by companies like Fazco. Selkies unfortunately are one of the creatures that are going into extinction because of their rather docile temperament and the superstitious beliefs surrounding them.

~~~~~~~~

Orca!Eclipse is directly based off of Naffeclipse's one from Apex Polarity. More info in author notes!

+Point you in the Right Direction by Droplets88

archiveofourown.org/works/55217824/chapters/140053930

Sun and Moon never really liked adults, never had a reason to.

To them, Sun and Moon were just a thing the adults could control. Forced to serve because they were 'programmed' to. Adults only spelt trouble, only wasting their time on them to order around, complain, or reprogram. At least until you came along.

You were different.

Maybe a friend is all they needed, and maybe that's all you need too.

*Creepy Crawlies by Le_frog

archiveofourown.org/works/54988756/chapters/139398913

The cold night air rattled the windows, the light of the moon shone through the curtain. Breathing fills the air as you stare at the glowing dots at the base of your bed.

It’s happening again.

TLDR: Reader is plagued with “hallucinations ” of two things in their room at night but what will happen when these ‘things’ start getting more…interested

* "how to be adopted by myths for dummies" a guide made by you. by Stateofmind_maybeimblue

archiveofourown.org/works/55084321/chapters/139658722

You never expected to meet mythological creatures, but since they are by your side, life has become much more interesting and fun.

or: sun and moon are happy to have a new human friend (don't let moon know that you know hehe)

`Fazbear Zoo by ArtsyFartsyBro

archiveofourown.org/works/54910234/chapters/139189192

You weren’t particularly fond of the idea of being transferred from your zoo to another. You liked your zoo and you liked your coworkers. You were strictly opposed, however, to sending your zoo’s mated pair of California Condors to another zoo that didn’t even have a designated ornithologist all by themselves. But the zoo they were being transferred to not only was offering to send one of their animals over for breeding, but the owner of the zoo was offering your home zoo a great deal of money for the exchange. Eager to provide greater quality habitats and care to the animals in its care and with a little negotiation, you and your zoo agreed. Now you've got a job at Fazbear Zoo, the only zoo in the world with animatronic staff.

*Majestic Oppositions: The Full Series by Laurzzz

archiveofourown.org/works/54710149/chapters/138654976

“I don’t suppose you’re here to court me.”, you raise an eyebrow at the stranger, nearly forgetting of the mask you’re still wearing.

“Well then, what do you suppose I would do here, princess?”, he speaks with an omen that foretells danger seething from his smile. It doesn’t faze you, not in the slightest.

“You’re here to kill me.”, nonchalance glazes over your speech. Your hands cling on to the coat covering you with your back relaxing further against the balcony’s barrier.

*Eye of the Beholder by JackOfAllRabbits

archiveofourown.org/works/53819152/chapters/136216651

A new scientist has been hired to the Faz Co. research facility in the heart of the desert where any number of secrets can be kept. You are full of curiosity and are especially interested in a particularly fascinating subject that Faz Co. is holding.

A certain dangerous alien. Will you get too close for comfort? Is it worth the risk?

*Pollen Pool by JokerSVendetta

archiveofourown.org/works/54748438/chapters/138758686

You had known you were different from the moment you emerged from the pollen pool.

The community who was supposed to be so loving did not accept you. You were isolated from them, only ever showing your face during new arrivals. You held on to a thread of hope that one day, another would arise from the glowing yellow water and look like you.

During what was supposed to be the last new arrival of the season, you don't quite get exactly what you hoped for, but it was better than you could've imagined.

~Caught in Your Net by EssenceDoesStuff

archiveofourown.org/works/54984274/chapters/139386190

You’re the captain of the most feared pirate ship in the seas, the Star Runner. However, when you raid another pirate’s ship and find two mers trapped in his nets, things start to change. You expect to never see the mers again, until they start gifting you with treasures to express their gratitude. Will you eventually return their affections? And what’s going on with all these storms?

*Eclipse of the Valley by scarlett_ink

archiveofourown.org/works/55068079/chapters/139614550

You are in desperate need of a change of pace, an out of the mentally draining life you found yourself in. With the combined inspiration of a total solar eclipse and letter you probably waited too long to have opened, you find yourself moving to the tiny community of Pelican Town nestled in Stardew Valley.

But what happens when there's more magic to this town than you thought, and you realize that you weren't the only one to move into the farm? With nowhere else for your surprise, animatronic roommate to go, it seems like he'll be staying with you for the foreseeable future and he isn't as alone as he first appears. Hopefully, you'll be able to come to terms with your new roommates and maybe if you play your cards right you might just get them to open up to you.

+May I deceive by Jamep0p

archiveofourown.org/works/51602362/chapters/130431937

You were a robotics engineer,the head leader of the newest Fazbear entertainment animatronic, and just a few days away from the new robot release,you get murdered in your workplace.

This won't stop the animatronic release, and with it, your need to escape.

----------

sorry if it's not that good,im bad at writing summaries

+*Love to the Music by ArtemisRed

archiveofourown.org/works/55035832/chapters/139524613

You hear the same song, every single day. It's nauseating, the music equivalent of a for horn grating on your nerves with its constant blare. You swore to yourself, when you found your soulmate, you'd make sure they never listened to that damn song again. (That song is the daycare song btw :3 )

-LIGHTS OUT by ERR0R_3X3

archiveofourown.org/works/48915295/chapters/123401350

It has been 5 years sense the plex burned down, you cash in a favor from an old friend and return to the long abandoned building searching for answers. What will you find when entering this forsaken place? Will is be a blessing or a curse?(This is a sun/moon fic we known damn well what we’ll find)

*Of Hearts in Tarnished Chains by CloudyVoid and CrazedAuthor

archiveofourown.org/works/54068971/chapters/136886098

You're a thief. One of the best in the business, if you do say so yourself. However, the current situation you find yourself in - locked in a cage and chained with only a shrouded cellmate next door for company - is going to be a bit of a stain on your reputation. And things only go downhill from here.

Between the ogres, goblins, and kobolds holding you hostage, now you also find yourself in the middle of a power struggle for a mysterious box that everyone wants their hands on. Including you, as is your job. But the contents of said box give you pause and set the stage for a whirlwind of trouble. Your hands are tied - almost quite literally - to a barbarian direwolf, an unknown human girl, and your fiery robot cellmate. You realize too late the pay for this job might not be worth it...

`Self-Care Virus by MrMiss

archiveofourown.org/works/48989017/chapters/123592003

You were apparently bad at taking care of yourself. Your friend installed an app for self-care onto your phone. You honestly forgot about it for weeks, not even opening it. That.. may have been a mistake.

*Feathered Trysts by throatofdelusionincarnate

archiveofourown.org/works/54505708/chapters/138089872

This fairytale begins as all good fairytales do.

Once upon a time, there lived;

A Ruler who sought to be free

A King who refused to give up

A General whose loyalty damned him

A Sorcerer whose hunger couldn't be sated

All are bound by chains of feathers and gold.

`°If it's for you, it's on the house!° by maggie_iced_coffee

archiveofourown.org/works/54481045/chapters/138020923

You are a barista in the 1930s, trying to get through the great depression.

Things in your area are finally starting to calm down, but then a certain sun-themed bot walks into your cafe and becomes a regular. That and the rumors behind 'Fazbear's' don't give you much hope. He doesn't seem like a guy to cause trouble, but who knows what kind of shenanigans he may bring into your life.

(I'm kinda bad at summaries sorry! (ꏿ﹏ꏿ;))

*Born and Betrothed by Sunny_Simulation

archiveofourown.org/works/54164497/chapters/137145538

Story heavily inspired by Strawbubbysugar's "Bethroned" fic! I was given permission to make this, but it isn't tied to bethroned and shouldn't have a lot of similar plot points.

Born for the express purpose of uniting two kingdoms to end a war, you find yourself facing a fate you did not choose, nor deserve.

+Wouldn't you like your outcome preferred? by Lie_nox

archiveofourown.org/works/54411544/chapters/137829496

Adult life was not for you but you had found a way to survive it, mostly. You didn't have a bad job and although your co-workers were a pain in the ass most of the time, you could say you had a good life.

That is until you are forced to learn how to live with the grief of losing a loved one and ignore the growing depression you had left buried long ago to pass as a functioning adult. With one simple event everything you knew changed, including the daycare attendant behavior towards you.

Will you get used to it as strange things start to happen at the pizzaplex, or will you be just another face on a missing person's poster?

`through pixel eyes by lunarmoves

archiveofourown.org/works/54397639/chapters/137788825

welcome to version 1.1 of fazpals, your very own virtual desktop friend based on the hit characters from fazbear entertainment's mega pizzaplex! they are able to walk, talk, joke, tell stories, give fun facts, adapt, and play games! fazpals are like no other with their innovative adaptive technology! you'll learn from them as they learn from you!

click the button below if you are ready to meet your new fazpal!

—

signed on as a beta tester for fazco, your job is simple: document any problems with their new program 'fazpals.exe' and help ensure it is ready for release. shouldn't be too difficult, right? right??

wrong.

+Doombop! by RambunctiousToons

archiveofourown.org/works/52978882/chapters/134021020

You don't get to decide how worthy and deserving you are of friendship. It's unrealistic to believe you can keep a wall up forever, keep yourself from ever caring too much, again.

Then again, just as unrealistic as sentient animatronics prowling the Pizzaplex.

Your metaphors are just as terrible as your jokes.

+Fear Factor by theinksvoid

archiveofourown.org/works/54371797/chapters/137717413

A person who has a dislike of animatronics and mascots alike gets accepted as a security guard at the one place that feeds her phobia. What's the worst that could happen, right?

*Solis et Lunae by owlitt

archiveofourown.org/works/55157404/chapters/139873684

Gods are fickle beings. In a world with several deities, each with their own temples and followers, favor can come and go with the wind.

While that goes without saying for mortals, it also holds true to the gods themselves; those who lose favor falling into anonymity, never to have their names revered again.

When you are cast out and forced on the run, you find solace in the one place others had forsaken years ago. Little did you know, this would open the door to a history of betrayal and death among gods.

*(No longer) The Tower of Demons by SpookyLovins

archiveofourown.org/works/54478696/chapters/138014524

Born and raised as a ruthless Demon with your fathers anger issues, you were crowned Queen of Mischeif, of evil, and now the head honcho of The Tower. The Tower's message being not to fuck with what you can't understand. Its been like this ever since your ancestors created this hell hole, isnt that ironic? Placed somewhere over the highest mountains, your window is just where you can see the other kingdom. It was bright, shiny and happy, all that you wished you could experience, but with the rules of your oath holding you back, like a dog on a leash, your trapped in your own walls.

That is, until you meet two very peculiar fighters, it was silly to think that maybe . . They had given you hope.

+Reach for the Star by CookyCoconut

archiveofourown.org/works/52928230/chapters/133885441

You are a new animatronic in the superstar daycare. You are supposed to be shown the ropes by mister Sunnydrop himself, but he takes your being here as an attack on his ability to run the daycare himself. Can you manage to get him to like you? Why doesn't he let you into the room he's supposed to share with you? Who is his mysterious counterpart? Is that a bunny with a knife?

+Fighting for your hand by somerandonamedz

archiveofourown.org/works/47591212/chapters/119944564

You’ve worked at the daycare for around a month, Sun and Moon have been acting weird lately, and you came back from a week long vacation

Little do you know there’s a new person, and they’re all fighting each other for your love

*How It Began by Beyond0My0Dreams

archiveofourown.org/works/54263971/chapters/137421073

I.O.G! Institution Of the Gifted! You've heard about it, a place where people who possess an ability go, but as someone who doesn't harness such an ability you were still being sent there. Why? The answer was simple. You were broken and this was your parents last resort. Having grown up lacking emotions and pain tolerance made your family a laughing stock to others, now this was their only way to prove you weren't a hollow of a person. If only you were gifted, then it would solve all your problems, right?

~Where The Sea Tides Rise || Sun&Moon×Reader by Mountain_ofaman

archiveofourown.org/works/54301654/chapters/137525212

The reader is a mermaid, and the boys are pirates.

What happens when the reader is fished up by these two pirate Lovers?

`Domestic Teachings by Trashyginger689

archiveofourown.org/works/53041786/chapters/134194708

The world is changing and it's changing quickly. You need to help your friends function in society for the first time in their lives. The silly daycare attendants need your help the most and you'll do everything in your power to make this new journey easier for them. They seem excited to take on this journey by your side.

+From security guard to emotional support human by HarmfulGiggles

archiveofourown.org/works/43985323/chapters/110594230

This is one of part of a series. Each one will hold one couple. This one is Sun and Moon x Quiet Dream Walker Reader. Most of these will be a slow burn and all will lead to the final arc. I can't figure out the collection thing so it shall have the series name here. Series name Coping With Time.

+Umbraphilia by ArkhamCrow

archiveofourown.org/works/51870484/chapters/131151535

The management at Freddy's Fazbear's Mega Pizza Plex have learned exactly where to go shop for new members of the Pizzaria's Family! ...that the general populace doesn't care about. But hey- that's fine. The Daycare Attendant knows how to look after brats. And this one seems almost custom made for them.

-Of sunlight, through midnight by Adriana_elise_abbott

archiveofourown.org/works/53841406/chapters/136276123

You are looking for a building, hoping to open your own bakery, and hark, oh my gosh, the damaged pizza plex is suddenly for sale? Well, that isn't weird.

Oh, the government is offering to help pay to either repair or remove it? Nothing odd here.

Nope.

*Otherworldly by tintiz

archiveofourown.org/works/54519670/chapters/138129802

You're an outcast.

Nothing but a "demon spawn," at least, according to the villagers of your town, that's all you are.

All because of an ability you never asked to be born with.

Clairvoyance.

And now you're a sleep-deprived demonologist, investigating a case of what could potentially be haunted property on the outskirts of your village. A family of 3 lived in the house, but you could see much more than just 3 people there.

One of them extremely malevolent.

+Superstar Daycare Days by moss04

archiveofourown.org/works/54657133/chapters/138509434

Unfortunately for them, the Daycare assistant was constantly replaced. When would they finally learn to just cancel the position? Countless employees had been placed in the Daycare, and they had all asked to be relocated within a month.

What happens when the new assistant is surprisingly very different from the past ones? What kind of mischief or happenings will go on?

*As long as we are loved by ShiraCheshire

archiveofourown.org/works/54656689/chapters/138507916

Many people mistakenly believe that unaging is the same as immortal.

That our machines, our toys, our art will live on forever.

But the truth is, such things cannot maintain themselves without our care and they will live for exactly as long as someone loves them.

#moon x reader #sun x reader #dca x reader #violetstormm random recommendation corner #violetstormm fic list updates #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant fnaf #security breach au #fnaf eclipse x y/n #fnaf eclipse

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 1 day

Text

Angel Dust Redesign! (7/7)

FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THE MAIN 7 FREAKS.

Depending how I feel I might throw in some bonuses but these guys are your only guarantees! Going to be posting the full lineup separately because I don’t want to clutter this post!!

God okay where to start. I was talking about them in Husk’s post so let’s go with that. Angel’s clothing restrictions are his necklace and shoes. I might go on a bit of a tangent with this so forgive me 💔

For the necklace let me get this out of the way: yes it is a BDSM thing! I’m terrified people are going to take this as me being a weirdo but please as an adult content creator give me some space to explain before anyone jumps on me and hits me with a metal pipe. The intentions behind symbolism matter HEAVILY. I am against Vivzie’s portrayal of Angel’s abuse and the chain/collar imagery because it is blatantly either her being incredibly uncreative or her inserting her kinks into her shows. I think it is completely fine to use suggestive items in this way as long as the intentions are clear and not just there for no reason.

I would’ve probably done something else like a corset as a restriction, but I’d like to stop being so shy about Angel’s actual job. He is a pornstar and removing that outward aspect of him is taking a big chunk of his character away. I need more people to acknowledge that Angel enjoys sex and actively wanted to explore this side of himself. With the slip chain however, I would also like to portray how things Angel enjoys in his job have been used against him and made him come to resent what he does when he is forced into it. I think thats a pretty understandable thing to show.

This is harder to explain but the gist of it is just don’t be afraid to acknowledge Angel’s job. It’s okay to use sexual things as metaphors. Have you heard any christian song ever/hj

Alright with that out of the way, with the shoes. Angel’s feet are a large insecurity and discomfort of his which already makes his shoes some sort of restriction on their own, however if controlled, they can be made to stumble forward, fall over, etc. I wanted to show how Angel has freedom to go mostly wherever he pleases, though once again, that free will can be taken away very quickly.

I hated his suit so all suiting is gone entirely. He’s supposed to look attractive or eye catching at the very least. I’ve also added back the outer fangs he had in my first redesign!

I am much happier with the new one in comparison to this old guy. I know it’s only a few months old but you can really see how differently I draw him and the details I pay attention to more like the shape of his hair. Aside from the old one! I wanted Angel himself to still keep the reddish pink to show wrath and destain being masked as lust, except now his clothing is actually the pinkish-purple lust colour and it covers more eye grabbing parts of his body like the chest, hands, hips, and so on.

I don’t think I’ve ever outwardly mentioned Angel having polycoria but he does and it’s probably my favourite feature to draw aside from his hair. About the hair and fur: Angel used to have spots and basic stripes before his contract with Valentino, where afterwards they began to curl into their cordiform shapes. Most physical overlord changes with hair and skin tend to not go away, so depending on who you make a contract with it’s either a fun perk or a sort of scar.

Once again, not sure if I will be continuing with anymore in this specific lineup, but if I do end up posting more of these I really hope you like those too! 💣

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heazueken · 1 day

Text

Can I believe You? - Part 1

*ೃ༄ summary: Nanami leaves behind the Jujutsu world fresh out of high school and reader resents him fir abandoning not only you but Haibara too. warning(s): body horror, violence, graphic violence, major character death, angst...lots of angst, mdni pairing(s): nanami kento/reader wc; 4.1k a/n: got the courage to post this hear too but you can find this on my ao3 too! there is a lot of angst in this...just a warning

______________________________________________

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my type, Y/N?” Haibara says your name cheerfully when you set your lunch tray down on the table. A laugh escapes you, finding joy in how brash and unapologetically blunt Haibara was. It was one of the many things you had admired about him.

“And why is that, Haibara?” Geto, Gojo, and Shoko side eyed you two, their ears perking to listen in on the conversation. A blush washes over you, the attention being all on you now and you nervously poke and prod at the food in front of you. Nanami pays no mind, Shoko had decided that he better spend his time massaging her shoulder than listen to you and Haibara blabber on.

“Because, you eat well, you’re strong and you’re super pretty!” You laugh, so innocent, so plain. Haibara felt like such a normal person that he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb as a classmate learning jujutsu. You admired him for his stubbornness to prove people wrong and always study hard, put his own life before your own.

“Well then, if I’m your type, how come you haven’t asked me out on a date?” He smiles and lets you eat a little more before he answers, folding his arms over the cafeteria table.

“I don’t ask out girls who aren’t interested in me back.”

“How do you know I’m not interested in you?”

You watch his eyes flicker to the side at Nanami, then back at you. A silent discussion between the two of you occurs and your cheeks flush in realization. You curse at Haibara has he immediately falls into a fit of giggles, you throw your rice at him, Gojo hears the commotion and helps you empty your plate on him while Shoko laughs, Geto sits there quietly watching and Nanami is scolding the two of you to stop.

“Geto hasn’t been looking so good,” Haibara mentions to you and Nanami. He’s sitting on the stairs in the school hallway and lays his head in his head, sighing.

“I tried to cheer him up, I’m not sure it worked, though.”

You put a comforting hand on Haibara’s arm, rubbing your thumb over his uniform.

“You tried. That’s the best anyone can do. I’m sure you helped a little.” Haibara gave you a weak, genuine smile and you knew you gave him a little comfort in that moment.

You heard about what happened from Nanami. The mission going terribly wrong, the Star Plasma Vessel - who you learned to be a girl Rika - dead. Assassinated by a man who had threatened their lives, left the both of them on the verge of death, thankfully Gojo was able to use his reverse cursed technique. Geto was left with the sight of watching Rika die right in front of him, pool of blood forming beneath the girl after Geto had offered to take her back home, offered to let her live the life she had deserved. Of course the trauma of that would send anyone into a spiral, you knew of that, and yet, it seemed like no one else could understand why he had been in such a funk. You remember Gojo taking you aside to talk about it, mentioning that he had asked him if anything was wrong, that he looked thin and wasn’t eating.

“And he…it’s like he forced himself to look at me and I could see that fake smile when he told me he was fine. That it’s the fatigue the heat brings him,” He shrugs his shoulders passively.

“Why didn’t you push him to tell you more?” You demand, trying to meet eyes with Gojo but with the sunglasses it was impossible. You couldn’t see the look in them but you saw his eyebrows slowly come together, creasing the skin.

“Because, I want to believe that he’s actually okay. I want to believe that he’s telling me the truth.”

You and Gojo both know he wasn’t.

“Satoru, he told you what had happened. How could anyone walk away from that without having felt some guilt?”

Gojo didn’t look at you, ashamed, he knew you were telling the truth but he had refused to see it.

“Because we’re the strongest.” He said simply. You couldn’t argue with him.

You saw Geto when you were heading back to your room. He looked sluggish, his feet dragged behind him and his head hung low.

“Suguru,” you said quietly, softly stepping towards him. He raised his head then and you saw what Gojo had described. His lips curled into a smile that did not look like the one you knew so well. This was not the Geto you had befriended so early in the school year. This was someone playing a part, someone who was hiding something, hiding a deep pain that he was keeping from the rest of his classmates. His eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t even looking at you truly.

“Y/N,” he responds gently. “What’s up?”

Words fell silent against your tongue and you couldn’t seem to form what you wanted to say.

“I….what happened?”

He shrugged. There was a long silence between the both of you.

“One moment I'm standing there with her and the next she’s a bloody heap at my feet.”

The smile still remained on his face and your blood ran cold. The mission had failed. You already knew that but it had explained why you had heard about the Start Religious Group celebrating the death of the vessel. You could not come up with anything to say, you stared at Geto and your hands raised to cover your mouth in shock.

“Suguru-“

“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he began walking again, the sound of his feet dragging on the floorboards was the only thing that could be heard down the long hallway. You watched him until he disappeared into his dorm before you could finally find the words. Not that they would have given him any comfort anyway.

I’m sorry.

You hadn’t want to use your technique, not when you knew it would harm Haibara and Nanami. But when you saw the curse thrash Nanami into a building did you feel the smoke ooze out of your palms in a desperation that hindered you still. Your eyes widened and your fist clamped around the naginata staff, your eyes caught where Nanami’s body slumped, his weapon laid next to him as you saw blood trickle from his mouth. A rage increased inside you and you readied your weapon, feeling the poisonous vapor enshroud the weapon before you. You had to use it now.

Before you could leap and attack you saw Haibara. Only a flash of him when he ran to Nanami’s side. He lifted him, shaking him and though you couldn’t hear, you could see him frantically yelling for him to wake up. Haibara had one eye shut, blood pooled from his head and over it, his hands were covered in his own blood and you watched him smear it across Nanami’s face as he desperately shook him to consciousness.

The curse roared, its tentacles reached and flashed across the area towards you, but you were quicker. Your blade sliced the tentacle off and the smoke secreting from the weapon soaked itself into the skin of the curse and it quickly began to bubble. The skin grew blisters, they turned plump and pink and the curse took a moment to stare at its large stump before screeching in pain when the blisters burst, puss oozed and more vapor poured out of them. The monster began thrashing, the remaining tentacles swung and destroyed the buildings around it. It screamed obscenities and you rushed forward, slicing another limb off. Your feet were quick, running along another one, letting your blade glide across its green skin and let more spores awake in its path. You glance just for a second to see Nanami finally getting up, pushing Haibara away in an attempt to run and help you fight. You kept the curse further away because your technique was considered a curse, even if humans came into contact with it it would cover their bodies in horrible blisters and eat away at you from the inside. You had learned to channel it through your weapons to make the smoke more precise and less dangerous. But you had to release a puff of the poisonous smoke from your hand to keep the away from your friends.

Nanami screams your name, this monster wasn’t a grade 2 like they thought.

It grabbed you with one of its untouched tentacles, throwing you down to the ground. Your weapon falls from your grasp and before you can register what had happened you hear a sound of bones breaking, skin squelching and what sounded like someone releasing a pail of water across the floor. It was blood.

Haibara stands in front of you. You look up at him, his back to you and you see it. The curse had stabbed right through his body, the limb poking out of his back. Your mouth opens into a silent scream and you can only watch as he vomits blood and more blood and more until his body immediately goes limp.

You don’t remember much. The world seemed to be spinning. You were pulled aside by someone, people in suits and sorcerers more powerful than you finally arrived and you watched them massacre the curse. Your eyes trail to where Haibara had been left lying there, forgotten in the heat of the fight. A flame ignited in you and you fought against the strong arms of what you assumed was another sorcerer holding you back.

“Let me go, let me go!” You screamed. “Haibara! We have to-“

“We can’t! Not yet!” The sorcerer responded, grip becoming tighter on you.

“Get the fuck off me!” Your voice strained. “We have to save him! Let me fucking go!” You thrashed, kicking dirt up with your feet in an effort to get to Haibara. You felt defeated when you couldn’t even wiggle one arm from the person's grasp.

You saw people with medical masks and long white coats run to his body, placing him on a stretcher and frantically talking to one another as they ran to the vehicle waiting for them. You see Shoko, scrambling outside the car, her face also covered with a mask. She turns to you, catching your gaze and you hold onto it, your eyes begging for some answer.

Will he be okay?

She shook her head.

You don’t remember how or when you had calmed down but the next moment you were in a car with Nanami beside you. You look over to him and he was staring blankly, blood, Haibara’s blood now dried on his face. He wouldn’t look at you - couldn't look at you.

Everything felt numb.

“That was a first grade case.” The severity of the situation hit you like a damn train in that moment. Your vision became blurry and uneven, your hands grappled to the handlebars of where he lay and the tears dripped onto the shroud. There were dark tear stains riddled across the blue of the fabric and the moment Geto finally, finally pulled it over to cover Haibara’s pale, bloodied face did you crouch and sob with all your might. The tears streamed down your face, falling to your knees and letting your hair trap around your face like blinders, your ears thumped with blood rushing loudly. A sinking feeling fell inside your stomach as you struggled to breathe but more sobs broke out instead. Your stomach began to turn, the world becoming quiet and muffled around you and you didn’t notice Nanami crouching next to you, not until you felt his hand on your shoulder.

Don’t comfort me. What’s done is done. Your comfort can’t bring him back. Don’t comfort me. I don’t deserve it.

The tears dried your throat and you began to retch, they were empty gags but the tears refused to stop even when your body begged for them to. You couldn’t shy away from Nanami’s touch and the way his palm tried to soothe over your back. Your crying didn’t subside until you had passed out.

Haibara was dead and it was your fault.

“Y/N,” Nanami said softly. “It’s okay.” He’s crying too but you don’t see it, can’t hear him when you’re unconscious on the floor.

Everything is black. You’re in a void and all you can see is Haibara's broken, bloodied body on the ground. Several of them littered around your feet, you look around and it’s endless, the bodies, the blood soaking into his uniform and pooling around your feet. Your stomach churns at the sight before you, watching the blood go up and up, rising over the toes of your shoes. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. All you can smell is blood and all you can see his Haibara. Tears stream down your face.

I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

You feel a set of hands on your shoulders, gripping you. You blink your eyes open and the bodies are gone. Except one. Haibara’s standing in front of you, grasping you so tight you think he’ll shatter the bones in your shoulders.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t look right. His face is contorted, blood is pooling out of his mouth and onto the ground. His eye is an empty socket with a cascade of blood running down the expanse of his cheek.

“Why didn’t you save me?” He asks with an eerie frown. You gasp and find your voice.

“They wouldn’t let me get to you! I tried to-“

“You weren’t strong enough. I died because you failed.” He would never say these things. Never. And yet it felt like that truth. Still, you shook your head.

“I did my best! It was a grade 1 curse! I tried to save you! I tried to save Nanami! You-“

“You failed,” He said, every word he spoke blood only poured out, staining his teeth red. “You weren’t strong enough.”

Haibara was dead and it was because you weren’t strong enough to save him.

You awoke in your bed with a gasp, sitting up immediately. Tears stained your cheeks already when the memories came flooding back to you.

“Y/N!” It was Nanami. He had been sitting down beside your bed, you guessed he had fallen asleep judging by the small rim of red around his eyes. Or maybe he had been crying just as much as you have. He reached for you, his hand grabbing yours and the other one going around your shoulder to support you. The room began to spin and little black stars riddled around your field of vision as your head thumped like a drum.

“Careful, you sprained a few ribs.” He gently said. You looked at Nanami, his face has a look of concern, your heart warmed at the realization that he had stuck by next to you for however long you were unconscious.

“H-how long was I out?”

Nanami pulled away, letting you lean back against your beds headboard.

“Couple of hours at least. You were talking in your sleep.”

The dream came flooding back to you and you held Nanami’s gaze for a beat, wondering what to say. What had you said?

“I’m sorry…” You leaned back, the ache of your bruised body finally making itself known. “What…what do we do now?” Your hand rubs gently over the bruises riddled over your ribs.

Nanami sat with the question for a bit. Sitting back in the chair beside you and rubbing his fingertips across the wrapped cloth on his arm, blood starting to creep its way to the surface. He’ll have to change his bandages soon.

“We recover and go back to work.”

Your stomach sank, something felt different. The vessel incident, now Haibara…everything seemed to be too much. Like their entire world was crashing down with them.

You’re weak. That’s why. More people are going to die because of your lack of skill. Blood is on your hands because you weren’t strong enough to protect Haibara.

“Hey,” Nanami said, putting his good hand on your shoulder. You blinked at him, taken out of your egregious stupor. Your eyes met with his brown ones and your heart beat a little faster.

“It’ll be…alright. I think. As long as we have each other, right?”

You always had Nanami and Haibara at your side. Now with him gone your only option was to support Nanami and he support you. You two needed each other now. It was the right thing to do. You nod.

You would become stronger for Haibara.

It got easier, as time went on. Nanami had stayed by your side and you stayed by his as the two of you recovered. 2 months flew by and you two were sitting in your dorm together, still bandaged up but you both were able to eat more. You looked down at your rice, sifting your chopsticks through it.

“I miss him.” You say. Nanami doesn’t need to ask who you’re speaking about and he pushes his hair to the side to get a good look at you.

“Me too.” He reaches over, he smiles, it’s sad and it carries a silent apology with it. He squeezes your wrist in comfort.

“He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He’d want you well fed and healed. Now eat.” You brought the rice to your mouth, eyes still skimming across Nanami’s face as he elegantly finished his food. You noticed he’d grown more, was starting to look more like a man. In just 2 months his jaw had seemed more sharp, his shoulders bigger, hands larger and warm when they touched your healing skin. His hair had also grown…longer.

“When are you going to cut that hair off, hm?”

He turned to you. “What? Is it an eyesore?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Yes, and it’s lame. You look like - what do they call it? A scene kid.” He rolls his eyes as you giggle.

“Finish your damn food already.”

You always had a crush on him. Even now, when he smiled at you - which you rarely saw him do - did the butterflies release inside you, a laugh released from you and there was a sharp pain in your side - sending you into a coughing fit, you groaned because damn, those bruised ribs fucking hurt. Nanami patted your back, trying to comfort you but it only caused more pain to ache throughout your body. You shove him away, a fit of giggles and coughing and groaning filling the room and you think for a moment how much you had admired Nanami for sticking by you throughout all of this. He had suffered a great loss, too.

Nanami Kento was the strongest man you had known.

Nanami Kento was a coward.

You hadn’t suspected a thing. Although, he had been starting to keep to himself a lot more as the years passed. It wasn’t particularly out of character for him so of course you were ignorant to the plans he had been setting up ever since Haibara died. Freshly graduated, pride still riddled across your face as you strutted through the halls, chest pumped up and high on the fact that you were Number 1 on the honor roll list. You wanted to share the happiness with your best friend, perhaps get some drinks with him. The thought of it makes your face go hot. You open the shoji door to one of the classrooms that Nanami frequented with you, a smile big and bright on your face.

“Nanami, I-“

Nanami was not there. In his place was Gojo Satoru, leaning against one of the student desks. He adorned his iconic sunglasses, laying further down on the bridge of his nose so you could see a glimpse of his pure sapphire blue eyes. Your smile quickly fades and your shoulders lower. A stone sinks inside your stomach.

“Gojo, what-“

“He left.”

You immediately ask, “Who?” The air became suffocating when Gojo pushed himself off the desk and walked closer to you. His footsteps echo across the room and he looks at you with an empathetic look and you know his answer. It feels as though a curse has wrapped its spindly fingers around your throat when Gojo finally answers.

“Nanami. He left this morning. Told Yaga that he was leaving jujutsu high.”

No. No, that’s not right. That can’t be right. The feeling on your throat felt tighter, pins and needles pinched the inside of your esophagus and your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to resurface. What used to be such a drafty, cold room began hot, too hot. There was no storm and yet you heard thunder and lightning, it felt like the walls around you were crumbling down. A tear threatened at your waterline and you blinked, letting it fall down your cheek. Your stomach squeezed and it made you stumble slightly.

“Y/N-,” Gojo grabbed your shoulders, supporting you against his side.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t focus on the sound of his voice, only mumbling to him so he’d know you at least still acknowledged he was there. He had an arm around your shoulder and grabbed onto your wrist with his other hand, holding you steady to guide you to one of the desks. You slumped onto the seat, your mind running through all the things Nanami had said to you. Promising that he’d stay by your side. That you would stay by his. Your throat began to burn again. Your hand tightened into a fist.

No, you could not. Not in front of Gojo. Not even in front of yourself could you cry anymore. It didn’t do anything - only caused a headache, made you feel sick to your stomach, had you on the floor heaving and gasping, hoping for it to end. It only showed the weakness you had shown when you had seen Haibara dead beneath the shroud. Gaining control of your emotions, releasing them through weapons, training your body until you were throwing up and your muscles ached was the only way you knew how to express the feelings that you held close to yourself. You had to get ahold of yourself. You slammed your fist on the desk in front of you and Gojo cocked his head in curiosity.

“Where did he go?” You finally ask, hiding your face in the palm of your hand. Gojo was silent for a moment, you glanced at him. He had pushed his glasses all the way up the bridge of his nose so you could not meet his eyes. You could tell by the way he shuffled on his feet and his hands slid into his pockets that he was almost anxious to answer you.

“He, uh, went into business, I guess? Salaryman.”

A salaryman. Pathetic. Rather than protect people from curses and carry on Haibara’s legacy he decided to leave that behind to pursue a life of money and long hours in a stuffy cubicle. Standing around with other men in suits who only spoke of politics and how much wealth they had. He’d rather dedicate his life to a big company. Just like that, he ran off like a fucking coward. The sadness that had settled inside you boiled into a fiery anger, your hands clenching and immediately getting up. The chairs legs scrapped across the floor in a loud and screeching sound and you pushed it back into place with a force that was so great you were almost worried you’d break the wood beneath your grip.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about him. I tried to tell him that you would appreciate to be told but he didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to?” Your anger burned your skin, “He didn’t want to tell me that he was abandoning the school, abandoning the people out in the world that need saving.” You took a deep breath, “Abandoning me?” Abandoning Haibara.

He was running away like a coward. Hatred seeped into your anger and spread like the disease ridden smoke that oozed from your weapons. Gojo didn’t say a word because there was nothing else to say, so of course he stood there with his mouth a straight line, shoulders still and hands at his side now.

“Goodbye, Satoru. Thank you for telling me.” You couldn’t direct your anger at Gojo, he didn’t deserve it. You needed the training room, you needed to feel the weight of your weapon under your grasp and the blisters that awakened from the strain of the wood staff, to feel sweat trickle down your forehead and the satisfying ache of your muscles.

Nanami had been the strongest, sweetest man you had known and he had turned into a coward. Perhaps you and Haibara never mattered to him. You hoped to never see him again for the heartbreak would be too great.

#jjk #pepper writes #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujustu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami fanfic #i hope you guys like this ooffffff

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 2 days

Note

There’s this Instagram account I follow, and she posted one of those Q/A sessions on her story. Someone asked her, “who should pay on the first date?”

And this girl basically said that the man should always pay for everything, because “if he can’t pay for the date, how is he gonna buy me my dior bag?” She also implied that if a man is not financially well-off, he should work on himself and not go on dates, which is incredibly stupid because 1. There are plenty of ways to go on dates without blowing all your money and 2. Really don’t like the implication that people who aren’t wealthy shouldn’t enjoy life

But really goes to show how so-called empowered independent women need a man to pay for everything. I’m a woman myself and I don’t wanna be around these people at all

Ladies and Gents, if your date brings up your salary or implies that you should always pay for things, that's called a Red Flag. You should always pay attention when Reg Flags start flapping in the breeze.

Honestly though, I think a lot of these women would be much better off if they just admit they want a sugar daddy and stop trying to pretend they want a normal relationship. There are tons of rich guys who get off on being a sugar daddy. There are multiple entire dating sites that connect sugar daddies with sugar babies. Just go there and you can get exactly what you're looking for. No need to wade through dozens of guys who mistakenly think you might want real companionship instead of an upscale John.

Oh, and in case people don't know dating etiquette, the person who asks the other person out should do the paying. Later on, when you decide you're going to be together long term, you can make other financial arrangements (communication!) for when you go out together.

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scary-grace · 3 days

Text

Skin Hunger (Chapter 2) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

There's no such thing as a good night at work when you work in the world's most infamous brothel for monsters, but your night takes a turn for the worse when you find yourself serving drinks to visiting half-vampire Shigaraki Tomura. You don't mean to catch his interest, and you don't mean to start a conversation. You definitely don't mean to get him drunk. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Life in Asylum continues, and in the endless scroll of days and nights, cleanups in empty rooms and mop-ups in private parties, it’s almost possible to forget about the half-vampire who will be back at the next full moon. Almost, but not quite. Vampires are a rare enough occurrence in Asylum that everyone’s talking about Shigaraki Tomura and his master, and since they’re going to be regulars, Overhaul provides more than a little education for the staff about the one type of inhuman next to no one has experience with.

Most of the workers don’t care, but you pay close attention. Your knowledge of vampires contains next to nothing concrete. You need to learn, if you want to hold your own during your next conversation with Shigaraki Tomura.

Vampirism is spread through a bite – true. Everyone who’s bitten becomes a vampire – false. Apparently, creating a new vampire requires intention on the part of the vampiric sire, which probably helps to keep the population down. The mechanism that causes half-vampirism is unclear, but what’s perfectly clear is that half-vampires are something unusual. They need to consume blood, just like vampires do, but unlike vampires, they also need to eat. They still have heartbeats, still need to breathe, still need to see the sun every so often. Beyond that, though, no one’s able to describe what powers a half-vampire has, or the degree of strength advantage they have over an ordinary human, or whether they can turn into a true vampire – or how they do it. The question of what Shigaraki’s capable of is one you’re not able to answer, and it bothers you. Then again, if Shigaraki had correctly guessed what you are, he’d be equally in the dark as to what you’re able to do.

Most inhuman species have some sort of biological limitations, just like humans do. Werewolves still need to eat and sleep, and while bullets will damage them, silver bullets are the true threat. Liches and demons can’t set foot on holy ground, no matter which faith has consecrated a given spot, and shapeshifters lose their forms if they get too tired. Everybody knows all about vampires and sunlight. Faeries don’t have limitations. Faeries have rules.

Faeries can’t lie. Lying has physical consequences. Faeries have given names and true names, and while the true names are the most dangerous, even knowledge of a title or nickname can grant some degree of power over them. Faeries are vulnerable to iron, but not in the same way werewolves are vulnerable to silver. A gift offered by a faery is never just a gift; either it comes in repayment for an earlier favor, or it comes with strings attached. Nothing your father’s people give is ever given freely.

And that’s where you got yourself in trouble. You did Shigaraki a favor by using your glamour on him. If that particular rule applies to you as a half-fey, you’ve bound Shigaraki to you until he can repay the debt.

All of that would be enough to deal with heading into the next full moon, and you feel like it’s possible to handle. But three nights before the vampires are set to arrive, the itching starts, and things go from manageable to impossible in the space of an hour.

The last time this happened, you took a few days off of work until it was over, but it’s occurring over a much larger area on your body – your entire left arm, shoulder to wrist, and it’s not going to peel away until it’s ready. If you try, you’ll open yourself up to infection, and if that doesn’t kill you, the way it’ll look once it’s healed will probably make you wish you were dead. You can manage not to scratch while you’re on shift, but when you’re off, you’re scratching constantly, and every last one of your coworkers has something to say about it.

“Better not do that where the boss will see,” Nemoto remarks as you’re all eating in the cramped servants’ mess. “He finds fleas disgusting.”

Nemoto knows damn well you don’t have fleas; he just doesn’t like you, because his demonic ability to force confessions doesn’t work on faeries, and that includes you. The maid you’re sitting next to recoils away from you, and across the table, Tengai rolls his eyes. “It’s not fleas,” he says. “Haven’t any of you seen a half-fey molt before?”

“It’s not molting,” you say uselessly. It would only be molting if you did it regularly.

“Of course none of you have seen it,” Chrono says. Usually he eats with Overhaul, but sometimes Overhaul can’t stand being around even his right-hand man. “Half-fey in general are rare, and her variety of half-fey is rarer still.”

Everyone looks at you. You can’t tell if they’re waiting for you to explain or thinking that they’ll figure it out if they just stare hard enough. Either way, your face turns red, and Chrono heaves a dramatic sigh. “For most of you half-breeds, it doesn’t matter which of your parents was the inhuman. It matters for faeries.”

Tabe burps. “Why?”

Why questions are usually safe to ask Chrono – asking Overhaul a why question results in either a flat, irritated look or a two-hour lecture about the minutiae of the topic. “It’s unclear,” Chrono says. “What is clear, however, is that half-fey children take after their fathers in appearance and lifespan, and their mothers in magical ability.”

“Huh?”

Chrono doesn’t have his mask on. This time you can see him roll his eyes. “Children of human fathers and faery mothers resemble humans, and have human lifespans. Despite that, they have significant magical abilities.”

“How strong are they?” Rappa asks through a full mouth. “Stronger than regular human magicians?”

Chrono shrugs. You, meanwhile, think about a conspiracy theory you read in one of Overhaul’s books – that all human magic-users are secretly matrilineal half-fey, whose mothers either abandoned them to their fathers or swapped out the child of an unknowing human couple for one of their own. If that was the case, nobody would ever know. Other than the magic, matrilineal half-fey are indistinguishable from ordinary humans. “Hang on,” Setsuno says. “If half-fey take after their fey parent in how they look, how come she looks so human?”

“She doesn’t,” Chrono says. He looks to you, and you lower your hand from your shoulder. You’ve been using the cover of the conversation to scratch to your heart’s content. “Show them.”

You give him a pleading look, which he ignores, and finally you rise from the table and back away. You’re still wearing your uniform, so you pull up the skirt on your right side, revealing your leg. The table recoils as a group, and you’re pretty sure everybody’s thinking exactly what comes out of Rappa’s mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Patrilineal half-fey inherit their father’s lifespan,” Chrono says, “and their appearance – or some of it. They appear to be completely human until they reach physical maturity, at which point they begin a partial transformation. You can see the patches where fey skin has grown in to replace human skin, creating a patchwork which renders the half-fey unable to conceal their true nature.”

It’s not just your skin. Your ears have begun to change shape, growing pointed at the tips, and the natural color of your eyes has taken on a strange iridescent overlay. You need to blink less than you used to, sometimes – other times, it’s a struggle to keep your eyes open in the light without sticky, pearlescent tears oozing from them. If your father had been one of any of half a dozen varieties of fey, you’d have seen changes with your mouth, with your hands, even with the way you breathe. But while your mother never told you anything concrete about your father, she was at least able to confirm that he didn’t have gills.

Your transformation is mainly cosmetic. That doesn’t make it any less terrible, and cosmetic is a relative term. “Due to their appearances and lack of other gifts, half-fey used to make frequent appearances in human freak shows,” Chrono continues. “Some also theorize that the reason they’re unwelcome in faery society is due to their ugliness.”

“Oh.” Your coworkers are nodding at this, like it makes sense to them. Nemoto’s looking right at you when he responds. “I get it.”

You know you’re not pretty, but that doesn’t mean you like having it hammered home. You drop the right side of your skirt back down and sit again, and spend the rest of the meal picking at your food. Your appetite’s gone, and your shoulder is still itching. Even though you’re exhausted from your shift, you’re going to have a hard time falling asleep.

You’re making a beeline back to your quarters, with the intention of trying to shower off the itch and falling asleep immediately afterwards, when Chrono catches up to you. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Thank you?” Backtalking to your boss is a terrible idea, but you can’t hold onto your skepticism. “For what?”

“I explained your situation, so you wouldn’t have to.” Chrono looks pleased with himself. “I did you a favor.”

“You could have done that without calling me ugly.”

“Should I have lied? It’s not as if you’re unaware,” Chrono says. He reaches out, hooks the neckline of your uniform with one finger, and pulls it aside. “How much skin are you going to lose this time?”

“Everything on my arm,” you say. Chrono looks surprised, and you seize the opportunity to shy away from his hand. “Goodnight, boss.”

“Your arm,” Chrono muses. “That’ll be a sight to see.”

Yes, it will. The juxtaposition of smooth, perfect, oil-slick shimmering faery skin with plain human skin on the same body is enough to make anyone’s skin crawl, yours included. You turn away from Chrono, and you’re almost out of earshot, almost to safety, when you hear him speak again. “You’ll have to show me when it’s done.”

That’s not the first comment like that you’ve heard from Chrono in the past year or two. They’re becoming increasingly frequent, and you know what they mean, just like you know you don’t want anything to do with them. You mumble another goodnight and duck into the female servants’ quarters, shedding your clothes and slipping a faint glamour over yourself as you step into the shower. You’re pretty sure there aren’t scrying mirrors in here, but at the same time, you’re pretty sure that if any guests wanted to pay to watch the maids shower, Overhaul would find a way to make it happen.

The hot water helps dull the itch, for now. You dry off and change into your sleeping clothes, noting every spot on your body where your heritage has surfaced. Your right leg is covered, thigh to calf, wide sashes and ribbons of fey skin interrupting your skin, jagged and gaudy. Your torso is covered, too, but you were smarter with that – when it was time, you peeled your dying skin away in a single piece rather than clawing it to ribbons. There’s some on your lower back that you never tried to peel away at all, and as a result, the fey skin is pitted and scarred. It looks hideous. You look hideous.

You know it’s true, but at the same time, you know you’re lucky. You’ve seen photos of half-fey whose fey skin broke through on their faces, unmistakable and impossible to hide. At least you’ve got a prayer of hiding this. Or you will, once you’ve peeled this next sheet of skin away to reveal what’s beneath. You crawl into bed and close your eyes, hoping that the itching will wake you in the middle of the night, so severe that you’ll have no choice but to peel the skin off right then and there. The waiting is the worst part. You just want it to be over before the full moon.

But it isn’t over before the full moon. It’s the biggest piece of skin you’ve lost – the last big piece you’ll lose, if only half your skin changes – and it’s clinging on for dear life. You beg Overhaul to help you, to employ the magic he uses to reshape the workers’ bodies when they’re injured, but he refuses. “The reaction between your meager magic and mine is too unpredictable,” he says. “I can’t help you.”

“Then let me have the night off,” you plead. He shakes his head. “Please. I won’t be any use if the skin breaks through.”

“You have my full permission to take your break to remove it,” Overhaul says, and you bite back tears. You were barely functional after you excised the skin on your torso. There’s no way you’ll be able to work with your left arm freshly peeled. “Not only is it a full moon, it’s also the autumnal equinox. We’ll need your glamours if any of the half-dozen rituals scheduled to take place here get out of hand.”

The equinoxes are the only nights where ordinary humans are allowed into Asylum, and they’re barely ordinary – they’re cultists, devoted to the worship of specific demons, conducting rituals that would get them thrown in prison in the human world. “And even if that were not the case,” Overhaul says, “there is a certain half-vampire scheduled to arrive with his master, and I doubt anyone else will be able to get him drunk.”

You were already stressed about running into Shigaraki Tomura again, but the idea of seeing him tonight sends you into a near-panic. “Sir –”

“That’s enough,” Overhaul says, and you fall silent in a hurry. “The moon is about to rise in Kiribati, and you aren’t in uniform. Get changed.”

You won’t win this. You know you won’t. You leave Overhaul’s study, hoping that the skin on your arm will hold out for another twenty-four hours – and hoping that Shigaraki Tomura’s master decided to leave him at home.

The autumnal equinox is fairly quiet as far as equinoxes go, but it’s not often that it occurs on a full moon, and from the moment the moon comes up over an even slightly populated area, Asylum devolves into barely-controlled chaos. The casualty count for workers exceeds an average full moon within the first three hours, and for the first time in a while, Overhaul comes out of his study to help repair the bodies rather than expecting them to be brought to him. Chrono equips the workers with alarm sigils, which will trigger a warning if their heart rates drop below a certain threshold. It’s an unusual precaution, but you know better than to think it’s out of any concern for the workers’ health – more that if too many of them die, Asylum won’t be able to serve all the guests who are flooding through the door.

You’re doing some of everything – a little cleaning, a little mopping up, a little belting a demon in the face with a mop when they won’t let go of the badly injured worker you’re trying to take back to Overhaul. You’re busy enough that you can almost forget about the itching, about the faery skin that’s trying to erupt through your skin on your left arm. For the first seven hours of the night, you run yourself ragged, doing whatever Overhaul’s ordered you to do, racing from floor to floor and trying to spot trouble before it begins. You’ve lived in Asylum your entire life. There’s nobody who knows their way around better than you do.

At hour eight, Overhaul summons you to the makeshift infirmary. When you get there, you spot a pile of discarded gloves on his right, a bubbling cauldron on his left, and a newly healed worker sprawled out in front of him. “Get out,” Overhaul orders the worker, and she scrambles upright, falls, and crawls unsteadily towards the exit. The instant she’s gone, Overhaul plunges his hands into whatever’s boiling inside the cauldron.

You don’t want to know what’s in there, and based on the grimace on Overhaul’s face, you don’t even want to go near him. But he summoned you. You step forward. “Sir?”

“The first ritual is about to begin. You’ll be supervising it.”

Your stomach drops. “I can’t,” you say. Overhaul mutters a curse under his breath. “I can’t! I don’t have magic –”

“You think throwing more magic at an out-of-control ritual will solve the problem? Playing stupid won’t get you out of it.” Overhaul lifts his hands from the cauldron and you startle at the sight of them. His fingers have been eaten down nearly to the bone, and in spite of the fact that he’s repairing them before your eyes, you can’t help but feel nauseous. “There are supply kits in my study, with the measures necessary to contain a ritual. All that’s required of you is to deploy them. Go.”

“Sir –”

“I don’t have time for this,” Overhaul snaps at you, and you flinch. You’ve never seen him this stressed before. “Chrono is needed elsewhere. None of the others but you possess a sensitivity to magic, and no one other than me is able to perform the repairs. Succeed at this and you’ll be rewarded appropriately. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fail.”

You know exactly what will happen if you fail. You nod mutely. “The supply kits can be found in the furthest cupboard. Hold out your hand,” Overhaul says. When you do, he traces a rune into your right palm. “Use this to unlock them. Go.”

You have more questions – like how to figure out which countermeasure to use first, or how to tell when they’re needed in the first place – but Rappa’s coming through the door carrying another worker, and Overhaul’s attention shifts from you. He’s not going to change his mind, and there’s no one else who can do the job. There’s nothing for you to do but head for Overhaul’s study. Being expected to supervise a ritual is bad enough. Being late to it is probably worse.

The cultists are making final preparations for their ritual in the smallest of Asylum’s three gardens. You’re not sure which cult this is, but they brought their own sacrifice, bound hand and foot in spite of the fact that they’re unconscious. You try not to look too hard at them. You don’t look too hard at the cultists, either. You pry open the supply kit and study the items within. Now that you’re looking at it, they seem pretty straightforward. Salt and consecrated chalk, for sealing the paths leading to the garden off from the rest of Asylum. A set of wardstones to keep anyone from entering once the ritual begins. A sheet of runes to trace in midair, as an extra precaution. None of it requires more than the tiniest amount of magic. Maybe this is doable.

You confirm that all the cultists are in the garden, then get to work, starting with the salt and chalk across each path leading into the garden. Next it’s the wardstones. The cultists are using a pentagram in their rituals, which means you need a hexagram to contain them properly. Wardstones are simple enough to set. You set them spinning with a twist of your fingers and leave them to hover. A few more of these, then a few sigils, and then you’re all set. You can do this.

A single footfall and a shadow falling across yours are the only warnings you get before a familiar voice rings out from behind you. “If you don’t want people to think you’re a witch, you shouldn’t spend so much time casting spells,” Shigaraki Tomura says, and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Did you miss me?”

It takes an effort not to throw the wardstone at him. “I’m not a witch. And this isn’t a spell.”

“It looks like a spell,” Shigaraki says. He looks way too pleased with himself for reasons beyond your understanding. “That’s two spells I’ve seen you do. Your boss is a warlock, so I don’t get why you’d lie about being a witch.”

You were dreading meeting Shigaraki again, in part because you were sure he’d guessed that you were half-fey. Apparently not. “That wasn’t a spell, and neither is this,” you say. “I’ll show you.”

“Huh?”

You motion for him to come forward, and he does, looking way too suspicious. What does he think you’re going to do? You’re not the one who drinks blood. “Hold this,” you say, and push the wardstone into his hand. “Now, do this –”

You show him the proper gesture to activate it, and he tries it – and drops it, just like you did the first time you tried it. Before you can tell him to try again, he picks it up and looks at you. “Show me again.”

You show him the gesture, and this time he copies it much more closely. The wardstone spins out of his hand and hovers in midair, the last piece of the hexagram you’ve been constructing falling into place. Shigaraki looks surprised, then pleased with himself again. You’re less annoyed with it this time, mostly because it’s given you a chance to prove your point. “You can do it, and you have even less magic than I do. It’s not a spell.”

“This one isn’t a spell,” Shigaraki agrees. He’s mimicking the gesture again, even better on the third try. “The other one was.”

A glamour’s not a spell. If it was a spell, it could be replicated by anyone else, but your glamour is an extension of your nature as a half-fey. You won’t be able to convince Shigaraki otherwise without outing yourself, so you keep quiet, and you set back off around the garden, headed for where you left the supply kit. Shigaraki follows you. “I went to the bar. You weren’t there,” he says. “Are you avoiding me or something?”

“I don’t work in the lounge most of the time. That night I was just filling in.” You’re conscious, suddenly, of the fact that you’re in the maid uniform – and that the maid uniform doesn’t come with even the most useless of masks. “To be honest, I didn’t know you were here.”

Shigaraki makes an affronted sound, but you’ve reached the supply kit, and you have runesigns to trace. In the garden, the cultists are moving into position to begin their ritual. You hold the sheet in one hand and begin to trace the sigils in midair. “What do you do most of the time, then?” Shigaraki asks. “If you’re not down there.”

“I clean.” You make the mistake of gesturing at your uniform, and Shigaraki takes the invitation to look you up and down. “And whatever else Overhaul needs me to do.”

“Like this. What is this?”

“There are cult rituals happening tonight. Overhaul and Chrono are both busy, so they asked me to keep an eye on this one.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki looks away from you, into the garden. “My master had a cult for a while.”

You really don’t know what to think of that, except that if it had been relevant, it would have been the first thing Overhaul and Chrono told the staff about. “How old is your master?”

“Old,” Shigaraki says, which tells you absolutely nothing. “What about your boss?”

“Also old.”

Shigaraki snorts. “What about you?” You clam up instantly, and he rolls his eyes. “Come on. Either your name, what you are, or how old you are. Give me at least one.”

Out of those three pieces of information, your age is the one that won’t get you in trouble. That doesn’t mean you won’t make him work for it. “You first.”

“Come on,” Shigaraki complains. You wait, watching as the cultists pick up their unconscious sacrifice and lay him out on the altar they built out of bones they brought from home. “Not that it matters or anything, but I’m twenty-three. Your turn.”

“Twenty-three,” you repeat. You can’t tell if you’re surprised by his age or not, but the fact that he’s still counting it means he’s still mortal. Your age stopped mattering two years ago, but you’ve kept count anyway. “Me, too.”

“Was that so hard?” Shigaraki grins, just a little too widely. The only thing that keeps you from calling it a leer is an instinct that it’s not born out of triumph at getting one over on you. A moment later, you’re proven right. “I knew it.”

Why does it matter to him that you’re the same age? A low hum begins to vibrate through the air, and the sigil hovering just in front of you wavers. The ritual’s beginning, and you need to focus. Unfortunately for you, Shigaraki’s still here. You need to shake him off. “I’m surprised you’re not with your master. Aren’t you here to feed?”

“He’s here to feed. I’m here to learn,” Shigaraki says. Learn what? “This looks more interesting than whatever else is going on around here.”

The hum in the air intensifies. Beneath the sleeve of your uniform, you feel your skin beginning to crawl. “If you’re going to stay, keep quiet. I need to concentrate.”

“Right. Witches need to concentrate when they’re doing magic.”

You’ve decided not to respond to any more witch jokes. The cultists are chanting in one of the demonic languages, drawing in close to surround the altar and obscure the sacrifice. Now that you think about it, you’re not sure what kind of sacrifice this is, and regardless of whether it’s symbolic or literal, you don’t want to watch it. You especially don’t want to watch it with Shigaraki – Shigaraki, who’s standing next to you, head tilted to one side, scratching idly at his neck. Seeing him scratch makes you want to scratch. You peer down into the supply kit instead, wondering which of the objects inside you’re supposed to use first if things get out of hand.

“Is there food here?”

Out of all the things Shigaraki might have said, you weren’t expecting that. “Huh?”

“Food,” Shigaraki says again. “Is there food here?”

It feels like round two of the WiFi conversation, except this time, you’re able to give him the answer he’s hoping for. “Yes. Why?”

“After this. We should get some.”

“Um –”

“You get breaks, right? Even witches have to eat.” Shigaraki’s scratching harder than before, and he’s not looking at you. “I’m hungry.”

He is really skinny, but he’s also a half-vampire. You know half-vampires still need blood, and you focus on that question instead of the other, worse one. “Not thirsty?”

“I have money. I can pay for it,” Shigaraki says, ignoring you. “And you helped me out the last time I was here.”

“I’m the one who got you drunk.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t owe –”

“Stop talking.” You’ve interrupted him, but it’s not enough – he’s already opening his mouth again, and you slap your hand down over it before he can get another word out. “I mean it.”

Shigaraki’s red eyes are wide. You can’t tell if it’s with affront or with shock. His lips move against the palm of your hand, dry and rough, and a weird jolt travels through you, raising the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck. It’s drowned out a second later by a vibration through the air that makes you stagger. The sigil in front of you dissolves, unable to stand in the face of another wave emanating from the site of the ritual.

The wave abates, for a moment, and you think you’re safe – but the next thing you know, you and Shigaraki are both staggering as the vibration travels through the ground in addition to the air. You don’t need anybody to tell you that the ritual’s gotten out of hand, and you dive into the supply kit, searching desperately for something that can counteract a demonic curse. Something whips past you from the opposite direction, slicing your cheek. You don’t look up. You’re busy.

Shigaraki catches Overhaul’s message and pries it open, reads it aloud. “Your boss wants you to play a song. How are you supposed to play a song when phones don’t work in here?”

“Tell me you don’t really think that music only comes out of phones.” You pull a music box out of the bottom of the supply kit, dust it off, and open it. No music comes out – you must have to turn the handle. “Be quiet.”

Music begins to emanate from the box after two turns of the handle – a thin, quiet voice, singing what sounds like a lullaby in a language you don’t speak. You doubt the cultists speak it, either. But it doesn’t matter what the words are, or even that the singer is at least a little tone-deaf. All that matters is the glamour that drips from every note, stronger and heavier than anything you’ve ever called up. It’s a faery’s voice, and it’s already affecting Shigaraki. He sways sideways, falls hard against a column, the curse he mumbles more slurred than his voice was when he was drunk. The glamour is almost overpowering. If you weren’t half-fey, you’d fall prey to it yourself.

It’s strong enough to stagger Shigaraki and disorient you, but it’s not having much of an effect on the ritual itself. The vibrations are still traveling through the air, and worse, you can feel them in the ground beneath your feet. You keep turning the handle of the music box with no change in the strength of the demonic curse emanating from the center of the garden. Why isn’t it working?

The answer occurs to you just as Shigaraki speaks up. “It’s too quiet,” he mumbles. “Witch. Make it louder.”

You can’t. The despair barely has time to settle in before the answer occurs to you. You can’t make the voice from the music box louder, but you can make sure it’s not the only fey voice in the garden. You clear your throat, coat your voice in your glamour, and begin to sing.

It’s nothing – some song you liked when you could walk freely in the human world, the first thing that comes to mind. You make an effort to match the key the music box is singing in, and you project both your voice and your glamour, doing your best to build on what the faint fey voice is already providing. You think it might be working. You’re not sure.

What you do know is that Shigaraki’s figured you out. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, still slumped against the column, staring unabashedly at you as you turn the handle of the music box and sing. You’re able to console yourself with the thought that your uniform hides your patchwork fey skin before you realize what a stupid thing that is to think about – right now, or ever. Your throat is starting to hurt, your vocal cords straining under the weight of the glamour. You aren’t sure how much longer you can keep this up.

The vibrations from the ritual begin to fade just as your voice begins to crack, and it gives you the willpower to hold on a little longer, the notes you sing growing increasingly fractured and hoarse. By the time your voice gives out completely, the demonic energy’s faded to the point where the music box is enough to counter it. Your ears are ringing, so much that you almost miss Chrono’s footsteps as he approaches. He notes Shigaraki, then looks to you. “You should have called for help.”

“From who?” Your voice sounds awful. You cough. “I took care of it.”

“If that demonic energy had gotten into the flux field, it could have destabilized the entire dimension,” Chrono snaps. “Someone as weak as you has no business trying to contain –”

“If she can’t contain it, you shouldn’t have sent her to watch it.” Shigaraki levers himself upright. “Something was off about that ritual. Isn’t it your job to catch things like that? Or are you really okay with a bunch of human cultists sacrificing half-demons in your pocket dimension?”

“Half-demon?” Chrono swears. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“I can smell its blood.” Shigaraki shrugs. “She saved your ass. Give her a bonus or something.”

Chrono handles being told what to do by people other than Overhaul about as well as Rappa handles being told what to do by anybody. His shoulders stiffen, and his hand closes around your upper arm, venting a sharp jolt of magic into you rather than loosing it at Shigaraki. At least, that’s what you think he’s doing. Then the skin on your right arm, itchy and crawling since three days ago, erupts with an itch so sharp and acidic that it almost feels like a burn.

Your arm is on fire. You’ve felt this before, and you know instantly that you can’t leave it a second longer. “I need my break,” you say to Chrono, your voice strained.

He lets you go with a sharp nod. You turn and all but run from the garden, already clawing off your apron.

No time to get back to the servants’ quarters, but Asylum is full of places to hide if you know where to look. And you know where to look. With a master rune like the one you carry, you can open up passageways and closets that even the savviest of guests don’t know exist, and you’ve used them more times than you’d like to admit. You reach the nearest of the passageways and raise the rune to tap against the wall, only for the agonizing itch in your left arm to flare to new heights. Your body contorts in discomfort, and your right hand falls back to your side – and then, so fast that you barely register it, someone slips the rune from around your wrist.

It's Shigaraki, and he’s got enough of a height advantage over you that he can hold the rune out of reach just by extending his arm. You don’t have time for this. You really don’t have time for this. You can feel the fey skin beginning to eat through yours from below. “Give it back!”

“So that was why you wouldn’t let me say I owed you. You’re a faery, not a witch.” Shigaraki’s grinning like he’s figured something out, even though the clue you gave him was a thousand times more obvious than the clue you got a month ago. “Why didn’t you want me to owe you one? My master is powerful. You could have asked me for anything.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Except this.” Shigaraki studies the rune. You reach for it again and he holds out his other hand to forestall you. “You want this, and I want a straight answer. The ritual’s done. Do you want to go get food with me or not?”

The small part of you that’s not panicking, caught in the desperate need to get the rune back, to get away, notices how he’s phrased the question. He knows that faeries can’t lie, and for some bizarre reason, he’s decided to corner you on a question so mundane that you wonder if you’re hallucinating it. Why would he waste a question he thinks you’ll have to answer on something this stupid?

It doesn’t matter, because half-fey can lie as much as they want, and because you’re done playing around. You glamour your left arm, faking a clumsy feint, and when Shigaraki shifts away from it, you snatch the rune from his hand with your right. He’s between you and the wall, so you turn away, pressing the rune against the opposite wall and opening up the passageway there. You dive through it, the relief at being out of the hallway marred only by the fact that Shigaraki followed you in.

The passageway you were aiming for originally had space. This one is a close fit for one person, tight for two, but you’re out of time to be picky. You can’t get your arm out of your dress without unbuttoning it partway. “What are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, clearly startled, as you undo the buttons one-handed and draw your arm from your sleeve. “Are you transforming?”

Even the slightest motion of your arm sets off a wave of pins and needles, and you grit your teeth as you work it free. Bared from wrist to shoulder, your arm looks awful, mottled, bulging in odd places, almost writhing in others – like the fey skin really is trying to claw its way to freedom from the inside out. Seeing what it looks like only hardens your resolve. You dig your fingers into your shoulder, trying to pry up a piece of skin. If you get a good enough grip on the first one, you can peel off the rest in one sheet.

But you can’t get a grip. Your hand is shaking too much, or your nails are too short, or something. You remember too late that the only other time you peeled the skin back, you made the first incision with a pocketknife. Overhaul doesn’t let the staff carry weapons. You don’t have anything on you that’s sharp enough to cut through your skin, and if you can’t – there’s no way you’ll be able to scratch all your skin away before the fey skin eats through. It’ll be agonizing. It’ll take forever. And Shigaraki will be watching you the entire time.

Shigaraki. You turn to him, desperate and hating yourself for it. You know that guests are searched for weapons when they arrive, but maybe – “Do you have anything sharp?”

“Like a knife?” Shigaraki shakes his head. Then his expression shifts, and he raises one hand to his mouth, pressing the pad of his thumb against one of his incisors. You see blood well up where the tooth breaks his skin. “My teeth aren’t as sharp as my master’s –”

If they can draw blood, they’re sharp enough. You beckon him forward. “Please.”

Part of you is expecting him to bargain. Any inhuman would, if they had one of the Fair Folk at their mercy – they’d never get better terms for any deal they wished to make. But Shigaraki steps forward, closing the slight distance between you without asking what you’ll give him in exchange. His hands are dry, his palms rough like before, as they close around your wrist and raise your hand towards his mouth. “Here?”

His breath is hot against your wrist. You shake your head. “My shoulder.”

Some part of you is terrified at the thought of letting a vampire this close to your throat, screaming in terror at the thought of those teeth meeting your skin. Shigaraki edges even closer to you, as close together as you were when you were dragging him drunk down the hall. His mouth brushes against your shoulder, and you freeze in place. What is he waiting for? You don’t need him to peel the skin off for you. You just need him to –

At least one of Shigaraki’s incisors punctures your skin, and you flinch, hiss – less at the pain, and more at the fact that he’s touching you, one hand on your waist and the other around your wrist, keeping your left arm extended and keeping the rest of you close. But you’ve got what you needed from him. You dig your fingers into the breach, get a good grip, and pull.

It hurts when you peel your human skin away from the faery skin that’s grown beneath, but the human skin is already dead. As it breaks contact with your body, it goes ashen, then transparent. There’s next to no blood. The faery skin glistens, slick with serous fluid, as it’s bared to the air for the first time. You mess up a little bit at the end, peeling away a piece of healthy human skin on the back of your hand by accident. It feels like a hangnail, and your entire arm stings. The pain would be worth complaining about if you didn’t know exactly how bad it was before.

Shigaraki’s still way too close to you. You try to sidle away, and he lets go of your waist, but not your arm. He’s peering intently at it, almost fixated. You brace yourself for the kind of comments you’ve heard every time someone’s seen what you really look like. “Wow,” Shigaraki says. “It looks even cooler than I thought.”

You’re not sure you heard him right. “Cool?”

“Don’t fish for compliments. I’m getting to it,” Shigaraki says. He hasn’t looked up from your arm yet. “I thought it would look cool, and I was right. Do you have more of it?”

You’re feeling weirdly lightheaded. You nod, and you can tell Shigaraki’s grinning just by the sound of his voice. “How much more?” he asks. “Can I see?”

That question snaps you out of whatever fog you’ve been floating in. “No,” you say, and pull away from him completely. “You weren’t even supposed to see this.”

“But you’d have been in trouble if I wasn’t here.” Shigaraki’s eyes follow you closely, not just focused on your arm this time. You can feel his gaze roving over you. If you had to guess, you’d say he’s trying to figure out where else you’re hiding fey skin. “I helped.”

He helped you, after you helped him. “We’re even, then,” you say. “Is that why you did it?”

Shigaraki’s not even subtle in how he ducks the question, and before you can press him for an answer, you hear someone or something knocking against the wall outside – a sharp, uneven rattle that startles you both. You start wrestling your arm back into your sleeve. The serous fluid will glue the fabric to the fey skin and removing it will be painful later, but you don’t have a choice. You need to get out there, and you need to beg whoever’s knocking not to tell Overhaul that they found you in the world’s smallest secret passageway with Shigaraki Tomura and your dress unbuttoned.

The knocking intensifies. You miss a button at the collar of your dress and Shigaraki’s hands knock yours aside, undoing it and buttoning it properly again. Is he trying to get you in his debt officially? You decide that’s a problem for later and open the wall again. There’s no one there but one of Overhaul’s paper cranes, battering itself to death against the wall. You grab it clumsily out of the air. Overhaul’s message is blunt and to-the-point – he wants you to assist Chrono in containing the next ritual, which starts in half an hour. Shigaraki is peering over your shoulder. “I can’t read it.”

“That’s because it’s not for you. They can only be read by the person they’re intended for,” you say. Half an hour. That’s not much time. “Look, I have to –”

Another paper crane zips past you, headed for Shigaraki. He whips his head to one side to avoid it, but he read the trajectory wrong. The wing slices into the dry skin on the side of his neck and he swears, clapping his hand over the now-bleeding paper cut. You capture the crane instead and hand it to him. His expression, already annoyed, deepens into frustration and discomfort as he reads. “What does it say?” you ask.

“What does yours say?”

“Mine says I have half an hour before I’m supposed to help with the next ritual,” you say. “What about yours?”

“My master wants me to feed while I’m here.” Shigaraki scowls. “I don’t want to feed. I’m hungry.”

He’s hungry, and he helped you, and he’s a guest – but it’s not any of those things that decides your course of action. It’s something else, something you’d go mute rather than admit to out loud. “I’ve got half an hour,” you say. There’s almost certainly something else you’re supposed to be doing with that half an hour. Overhaul can be angry with you later. “We can go get something to eat.”

Shigaraki looks surprised. “Really?”

“Sure.” You can’t figure out where that surprise is coming from. He’s been bothering you about it since before the ritual went sideways. Was he not expecting you to say yes? “And we should cover that cut on your neck.”

Shigaraki pulls his hand away from it, grimacing. “It’s not that bad. I get worse all the time.”

From scratching? “It’s still not a good idea to walk around bleeding in here. Let’s go.”

You steer clear of the infirmary and make your way instead to one of the supply caches, using your master rune to open it, and then to open an alcove where you can patch up Shigaraki’s injury in peace. Shigaraki complains as you try to clean the wound. “Why does he fold those things so sharp, anyway?”

“So people will snap to it faster,” you explain. “Most of us would rather drop what we’re doing and do what he wants than risk getting a papercut like that.”

“Your boss is an asshole.” Shigaraki tilts his head to the side at your request, then freezes. “What are you doing?”

“I just moved your hair. It was in the way.” You don’t care that he’s uncomfortable. After what happened tonight, after how much of you he saw, you feel like he deserves it. You get a fingertip full of some salve from the supply caches and start daubing it onto the cut, to the tune of a sharp hiss. “Sorry. I’m trying to be gentle.”

Shigaraki doesn’t respond to that. It’s quiet as you fish through the supply kit for a bandage, a quiet that feels awkward but not necessarily tense. Shigaraki doesn’t speak again until after you’ve placed the bandage. “Can you use one of your spells on it? Whatever you did last time,” he says. “If my master finds out –”

“It’s a glamour, not a spell,” you say. “No problem.”

A phantom itch travels along your left arm as you set the glamour, fading before you can scratch it in earnest. You store the supply kit, open another passageway that will lead directly to the kitchens, and start off, counting on Shigaraki to follow you. The awkwardness follows, too, and just like before, Shigaraki speaks first. “I get it now. Why you wouldn’t tell me what you were.”

You find yourself tucking your left arm close to your body, shielding it. Shigaraki keeps talking. “You helped me just now. I owe you a favor again. Ask.”

Earlier tonight, you’d have asked him to leave you alone. Now – “We’re even. Don’t worry about it.”

“You can’t do that,” Shigaraki says. “I know how this works. You can’t just cancel a debt because you don’t want anything from the person who owes it.”

“I’m only half-fey. I don’t know which of the rules applies to me,” you say. “You’re off the hook.”

“What if I don’t want to be off the hook?”

You can’t imagine why he’d want to be on the hook. The Fair Folk are notorious for driving cruel and twisted bargains. Whether it’s due to their morality, which doesn’t map onto human morals particularly well, or due to a desire to hurt others, everyone who’s ever found themselves in debt to a faery has been keen to get out of it as quickly as possible. Why on earth would Shigaraki want to carry around a possible debt to you?

You don’t want to ask that question. You stay quiet. “I guess I’ll have to stick around, then,” Shigaraki muses. “See about paying you back.”

You glance at him and find him smirking, or grinning. You can’t tell which. Your glamour is shimmering at the side of his neck, obvious to you but subtle enough to escape his master’s notice, and his lips, which would have cracked at a smile this wide even an hour ago, look smoother than before. You have a bad feeling about why that is – and at the same time, you aren’t as worried about it as you were before. Now that he knows what you are, interacting with him is significantly less stressful than before. It’s not something you’ll look forward to. But it’s not something you’ll dread.

“I guess you have to,” you say, and his smile brightens. Even that’s not enough to dredge up the ambivalence you felt before. “Let’s get some food.”

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