#the colour grading in this show is slowly killing me

[pharawee]

Kong Montree as RAK & Pepper Phongpat as DINO —DINOSAUR LOVE Episode 4

Bonus: 🦈

[the-library-of-forgotten-endings]

The Delinquent’s Guide to Finding Love

Warnings: profanity, domestic ab*se, psychological ab*se, Gakuhoe Asano and his A+ Parenting, mild spoilers

Reader is female

Assassination Classroom doesn't belong to me, and neither does Karma.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is (Y/N) Asano, and I am the new transfer student.”

The girl at the front of the room surveys the class with a cold expression. “I look forward to meeting you all.” She certainly doesn’t seem like it.

She stalks across the room, taking a seat next to Karma Akabane.

Karma feels a vengeful glee grow inside of him. Ha! This is hilarious!

“Not so smiley now, are you, Princess?” he taunts.

“…” She looks at him. “Akabane.”

“(Y/N)-chan.”

“Don’t call me chan. Only my friends call me that. And you are not my friend.”

Maybe…just maybe…

“Daddy decided that Princess was useless, didn’t he?” Karma sneers. “Looks like Daddy doesn’t love you anymore~”

“…” She looks at him frigidly. “Please do not talk to me.”

This is better than hilarious, Karma decides. This is possibly the best thing that has happened to him in his life.

(Y/N) Asano.

How does Karma describe her?

Perhaps he should keep it short.

Former student of 3-A (Former, ha!). Daughter of the Principal. Sister of Gakushuu Asano. Captain of the cheer team. Kunugigaoka’s School Idol.

A complete and utter fake.

If you ask anyone on Main Campus, (Y/N) is a kind, gentle soul, a friendly, talented young girl who, even when she’s beaten down, keeps a bright smile on her face.

If you ask Karma Akabane, she’s a liar and a fake.

She’s an Asano, for god’s sake. What do you expect?

The first time Karma saw her, it was hate at first sight.

Pure, unfiltered, hate.

She was cheering on Kunugigaoka’s football team, with a bright, warm smile, which Karma knew, from the very depths of his core, was fake, fake, fake.

“Come on A-Class!” she had yelled, shaking her pom-poms. “Let’s send them straight to hell!”

The team A-Class was playing against was the E-Class team.

They weren’t sent to hell, but E-Class was most certainly put through it.

“So, (L/N)-san how did you end up here?” tries Kanzaki.

“Reasons,” (Y/N) responds.

“Um…ok…”

“What do you want with me? Just spit it out.”

“…Would you like to sit with us at lunch? I know-”

“No.”

“…”

“(L/N)-san, this is an opportunity to make friends!” encourages Koro-sensei. “Why not-”

(Y/N) looks at Koro-sensei. “I have no intention of making friends here,” she states.

“You’ll need allies on your side if you want to kill me-”

“I have no intention of killing you.” Koro-sensei freezes at this, as does Karma. (Y/N) narrows her eyes. “I have no need of the prize money. I will be back at A-Class soon enough anyways, so there is no real point.”

“…”

“Please excuse me.” (Y/N) stands up and starts to walk away from her desk.

“So…you show your true colours at last,” calls out Karma.

(Y/N) stops in her tracks, and slowly turns around, facing Karma. “Fuck off.”

(Y/N) was rather popular back when she was back at Main Campus.

Karma would often see her blow a kiss or two to her admirers, who would often follow her around the school, but noticed how she would skip those from E-Class.

Speaking of following, there was also that clique of hers. She wasn’t really part of the Big Five, but she did have a ‘group’ of her own. It was made exclusively of members of her cheer team, each one as plastic and fake as her.

Naturally, there was no room for the ‘dirt’ that was E-class.

Karma was watching from the shadows when The Incident happened.

“Why won’t you let me join the cheer team?” fumed Hinata Okano.

“You’re in D-Class, Okano,” says (Y/N), her voice cold, unforgiving. “You’re barely hanging on as it is. Get better grades and then I might consider it.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair.”

Okano stormed out of the room, and Karma only just managed to catch the tearful shine of Okano’s eyes.

Lunchtime in E-Class.

(Y/N) is not eating a bite of her food, simply messing around with what’s inside her lunchbox. She is sitting under a large tree, its shadow protecting her from the harsh sun.

Karma casually walks up to her, pouring his strawberry milk inside her lunchbox, some of the milk splashing onto her shirt.

“Oops.” He smiles innocently. “Sorry.”

“…” (Y/N) stands up, and walks towards the nearest bin, dumping her food inside, disposing of it.

Karma kicks over the compost bin, the contents of the bin landing on her shoes.

“Sorry.” He is openly smirking now.

Maybe she’ll say something now. Maybe she’ll yell at him. Maybe she’ll cry.

Karma wants to see that human side of her again, he wants to see that vulnerable side, so he can reach into her and then finally tear her apart.

Oh. That was a little intense.

Meh, whatever. ‘Intense’ is Karma’s middle name.

(Y/N) walks away from Karma, not saying a word.

“What happened, Princess?” Karma mocks. “Did I hurt your feewings~?”

No answer.

What a shame.

The first prank was relatively amateur.

A box of chocolates, the chocolates replaced with a jack in a box which sprayed paint all over (Y/N)’s shirt.

Karma had watched from a little ways off, as (Y/N) and her clique stood there in silence.

Pin drop silence.

Until (Y/N) laughed. She looked straight at Karma and shot him a (fake) smile. “You totally got me, Akabane-san!”

Rage.

Karma watches Kanzaki shrink into herself as she walks home, as jeers and insults are thrown at her from the Main Campus students.

Someone pushes her, and Kanzaki falls to the ground, her books scattered all over the ground.

Karma begins to walk up to her but stops when he sees someone else approach her. He hides behind a tree in order to see exactly why would (Y/N) Asano would ever help someone?

“Stop crying,” says (Y/N), holding out a hand for her to grab onto. Kanzaki takes it and stands up, sniffling.

(Y/N) crosses her arms. “You need to stop being so pathetic, Kanzaki,” she says, her eyes narrowed.

Kanzaki looks like she’s about to burst into full out tears.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath and sighs, her tone changing into something softer, kinder almost. “The reason they pick on you is because you look vulnerable, pathetic and weak. You try to hide so that people won’t notice on you, but it just has the opposite effect.”

“…” Kanzaki looks confused.

(Y/N) sighs again. “Tell me something. In the wild, a wolf wouldn’t attack a lion, would it?”

Kanzaki shakes her head.

“But it would attack a cow, wouldn’t it?”

Kanzaki nods her head.

“Why is that? Why doesn’t it attack the lion? Why doesn’t it leave the cow alone?”

“…It’s because the wolf knows it’s weaker than the lion,” answers Kanzaki tentatively. “So, it decides to pick on the cow instead…”

(Y/N) smiles. It isn’t like how she used to smile, how she used to smile back in Main. This smile is more…evil-looking, cruel, mischievous (and it makes Karma’s heart do weird backflips worthy of an Olympic gold medal, but there was no way in hell he was ever going to admit that).

“Kanzaki-chan, you are the cow. And Main Campus are the wolves. To beat them, you need to become a lion.”

“…But…I’m not nearly strong or clever enough…” Kanzaki shuffles her feet nervously. “I’m…not ready…”

“Then fake it till you make it.” (Y/N)’s tone is hard. “Hold your chin up high, stand straight, and pretend you don’t care.”

Kanzaki does exactly that, not really succeeding, instead looking sort of like constipated turtle.

“You look like a constipated turtle,” sighs (Y/N).

“Sorry,” Kanzaki mumbles.

“Let me put it this way,” says (Y/N), pinching her brow. “Try to look like a bitch.”

“…a…bitch?”

“Yes. A rich, beautiful cold brat who has money and looks and the whole school humping her leg like a chihuahua.”

“…that’s…oddly specific.”

“Just do it.”

Kanzaki tries to look bitchy, and kind of succeeds, putting a cold look on her face and holding her chin up high.

“Now walk,” instructs (Y/N). “Walk back home like that.”

“…and if they insult me again?” asks Kanzaki timidly.

“Ignore them. Pretend that they’re tiny little ants.”

“…Alright.” And so Kanzaki walks away, trying her best to pretend that the Main Campus are tiny little ants.

“…”

…Karma gets it.

She’s…trying to be nice.

Maybe…maybe she was really trying to change.

…

THE NEXT DAY

…

Okay, you know what Karma said about (Y/N) trying to change?

Karma takes that back She isn’t trying to change, not at all.

Why did Karma expect anything different?

“The way you’re cartwheeling is completely wrong, Okano.” (Y/N) crosses her arms. “It makes you look like an amputated duck.”

“Haaanh? And when we ask you for your opinion, Miss ‘I’m so great at everything?’” snaps Okano. “Jeez, could you stop poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong? My cartwheel is fine-”

Kanzaki looks helplessly from one girl to another. “Guys, we shouldn’t argue-”

“She’s insulting my skills!” yells Okano.

“I’m trying to help you!” (Y/N) retorts.

“So, dissing me is helping now? How about some actual constructive feedback instead!?”

“…Ok, you want constructive feedback?” (Y/N)’s voice is cold; Karma swears that the temperature drops a few degrees. “Just quit. You’ll never be able to get anywhere, so why keep trying if you just keep on messing up?”

“…” Okano clenches her fist and glares. “Why you…!”

Kanzaki’s eyes widen, and she mutters, “Wasn’t that a little harsh…?”

(Y/N) doesn’t even bother to answer, only turning her back on the two girls and walking away.

Okano yells and launches herself in (Y/N)’s direction, about to give (Y/N) one of her signature flying kicks. “YOU BITCH!”

(Y/N) simply steps out of the way and watches as Okano lands in the dust, raising an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Seriously?’

Okano gets back up on her feet, breathing heavily. Anybody with half a mind can see that she is still angry from the angry furrow of her brows to the red flush of her cheeks and the trembling of her clenched fists.

With a roar Okano launches a punch towards (Y/N)’s face, but (Y/N) without so much as a flinch grabs Okano’s arm and flips her backwards, sending her crashing to the ground.

Okano doesn’t get back up this time.

The retaliation was unexpected.

Karma never thought she would have the guts.

But there Karma was, realising that all of his clothes had been switched out for something truly hideous.

No one had any spare clothes, and therefore, Karma Akabane was forced to spend the rest of the day in a tattered yellow Hawaiian shirt and mud splattered shorts, subject to the sniggers and giggles of fellow students.

Karma hadn’t known who had done it.

Not until (Y/N) Asano had brushed up against him as he was moving classes and whispered to him, “You look good in yellow, Akabane,” her lips lightly touching the skin of his ear and sending shivers down his spine.

Love Hate.

“Asano-san, what you did was completely out of line!” fumes Koro-sensei, his face a deep black. Karma feels himself tremble ever so slightly, but (Y/N)’s face seems composed, bored even.

Karma may be a devil, but (Y/N) is definitely not human.

“I was defending myself,” she says calmly.

“You could have seriously hurt Okano!”

“And she could have seriously hurt me if I had let her.”

The entire class sits in pin-drop silence as Koro-sensei looks straight at (Y/N). “Hurting another classmate isunacceptable,” he growls.

“She was the one who started it.” (Y/N)’s face betrays nothing.

“Okano, is this true?” And just like that, Okano is now the one who is shaking (even more) as Koro-sensei directs his gaze onto her.

“…yes…” Okano mutters, confessing to her sin. “But she provoked me! She insulted my skills! She told me that I should just quit gymnastics!”

“…” Koro-sensei looks at (Y/N) once more.

“…Okano is telling the truth,” says (Y/N).

“And what made you say such a thing to her?”

“She asked me for advice, and I gave it,” (Y/N) states.

Koro-sensei sighs, his face fading back into its usual yellow colour. “I see now. (Y/N).” (Y/N) nods, showing she is attentive. “For now, I am letting you off, since you are new, but you must not provoke another student in such a manner again. Do you understand?” he says, wagging a tentacle at the young girl

“I understand.”

“And Okano.” Okano perks to attention. “You mustn’t lash out like that a fellow classmate again. Violence against others will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”

“…I understand.”

“Good!” And just like that, the tension in the air disappeared, as if it hadn’t been there at all. “Now, let’s get back to the lesson, shall we?”

By the end of the day, the rain is pouring down like never before, dark clouds swirling in the sky and fog clogging the air. Karma luckily has brought his umbrella, so his hair is fluffy rather than sodden from the water.

He walks out of the school, frowning when he sees a figure standing amongst the white fog.

“…Asano.”

(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on some spot in the distance, and her foot is tapping impatiently, the rain soaking her all over. “Akabane,” she responds curtly. “You’ve come to spill milk on me again?”

“Aw, Princess, you know me.” Karma gives a dark grin. “I’m a complete angel. I would never do something like that on purpose. Could you imagine?”

(Y/N) snorts in response.

“So, what’s someone like you doing out here?” questions Karma. “Standing in the rain like a stray dog?”

“Waiting for my brother,” (Y/N) says. “He should be here any minute now. That idiot’s so late today.”

There’s a little catch in her voice that most people would have missed or ignored, but Karma isn’t most people, and as such he pounces on this chink in her armour. “And by any minute, do you mean one hour?”

“…” The tapping of her foot stops.

“I stayed back an hour to help some of the others with math. And knowing that Asano, he wouldn’t forget anything. He’s always on time, always completely prepared. Face it, Princess. You’ve been ditched.” Karma holds out his umbrella, smirking. “So why don’t you let the handsome prince take you home?” he mocks.

“…Gakushuu will be here soon,” she answers, her voice slightly unsure. Her eyes are still looking somewhere far away. “He’ll be here. So, I don’t need your help.”

“…He’s not coming for you. No one’s coming for you,” says Karma, the smile dropping from his face. “You’re one of us now, Princess. An outcast. A piece of trash. No one from your old life will even want to touch you now. Welcome to E-class.”

“…that isn’t true.” (Y/N) shakes her head, laughing. “That’s ridiculous! My brother cares about me, obviously, he just can’t afford to spend time with me right now because there’s so much work to do, and I have to concentrate on my studies too!” Water drips down her cheeks.

“A dog with a leash can’t stray too far from his master,” states Karma. “And stray dogs are to be kept far away from the house.”

“…” (Y/N) finally looks at Karma. There is a sugary smile on her face, one that reminds Karma of the old days, back when Karma was in D-class and she in A-class.

But her eyes burn with something even darker than sin itself.

“Does the Princess have something to say?” Karma mocks, trying not to waver at the look in her eyes. “What is it, Your Majesty?”

“…I really like dogs too!” she says, her voice dripping with thick, sweet, choking syrup, the saccharine poison forcing its way down Karma’s throat and drowning out his voice.

“They’re so sweet and cute, you know!” She laughs, looking Karma up and down. “There’s this little red one who I see very often. He’s thinks he’s so scary, barking at me all the time. It’s so adorable! But I sometimes feel really sorry for him. His parents- oh sorry, owners, like to go on really long trips, and they leave him alone all the time. Then he really acts out, getting into fights and biting all these people, but when he gets home, he cries and cries. It’s just so pathetic.”

Karma can’t hold himself back anymore. His fist flies through the air, straight towards (Y/N) Asano’s face.

“I am speechless.”

Karma and (Y/N) are back in the 3-E classroom, under the disapproving gaze of Koro-sensei, similar to before with Okano really, except it was only the three of them.

Karma, in hindsight, curses himself for falling for the bait. But he feels satisfied

“Asano-san.” (Y/N) isn’t afraid. But it’s not like she’s calm either. Her dull eyes stare at somewhere that isn’t here nor there, and she barely breathes.

Karma isn’t sure if he likes it.

“I warned you today that you were on caution, and any more fights would get you in serious trouble. And yet, the minute school ends, I get-” Koro-sensei waves a tentacle in Karma’s direction. “-this. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“He started it,” she mutters, barely audible, sounding like a sulking child.

“I see. And is this true, Karma-kun?” asks Koro-sensei, his usually sunny smile now much more comparable to the bloodthirsty grin of a serial killer.

“…” Karma could lie. He could lie. But he isn’t that kind of person… “…No.” Well, he is that kind of person as it turns out. What a surprise.

“Oh yes, so it was a ghost who punched me?” snaps (Y/N), vindictive. “It was a ghost who mocked me? It was a ghost who spilled milk all over me? I am so done with your bullshit, Akabane.”

“I’m done with your bullshit too,” Karma fires back. “You’re all sour over the fact that you’re not in Main anymore and you’ve been taking it out on all of us like a petty little bitc-”

“I understand what has been going on now.” Koro-sensei’s voice has a certain resolution to it. “You both can go home now, but I want you to stay after school tomorrow. Understand?”

“…Understood,” (Y/N) mutters.

“Understood,” Karma mutters as well.

…

THE NEXT DAY

…

“Bonding,” Karma seethes, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair. “Fucking bonding. I can’t believe it. The undercooked piece of seafood wants us to bond.”

“That octopus is a strange one,” remarks (Y/N) quietly, rocking backwards and forwards gently.

“Princess, he’s a literal octopus who walks and talks and flies at Mach 20. Strange does not even begin to cover it.”

“…” (Y/N) falls silent again.

The two are sitting together in the empty 3-E classroom. Door and windows are all tightly shut and locked.

“The attitude you two have will not do at all!” Koro-sensei had said, wagging a tentacle as a large cross appeared on his face. “Assassins must have the ability to set aside their differences and work together, and the two of you fighting will only drag the entire class down! So, I have devised a challenge for you two…”

“I can’t believe the octopus turned the mountain into an escape room.” Karma shakes his head. “If only you had a hairpin or something, I could-”

(Y/N) walks to Karma and brings a hairpin out of her pocket, wordlessly putting it in Karma’s hand.

Karma takes it, and bends it out of shape, inserting it into the lock and wiggling it around until he hears a click. “You do the honours, Princess.”

(Y/N) swings the door open…

They quickly run through the corridor, Karma reaching first and pushing the doors to the exit. “No use. It’s locked. You have another hairpin.

“No…that was my last one.” (Y/N) frowned. “There’s a key, right?”

“There is, in the staff room.”

“So, let’s go.”

“The key has to be somewhere in here,” says (Y/N).

“Let’s check.”

They turn the room upside down, but come up with no results, except for four strange pieces of paper, with various things written on them.

“…it’s not here.”

“It is,” responds Karma, pointing to the safe. It is locked with a six number code, which Karma doesn’t know.

“…there are a number of possibilities,” says (Y/N), tapping her foot anxiously. “If we try them all-”

“No can do, Princess.” Karma shakes his head. “We only get three tries for this kind of safe. And besides, trying them all would take ages.”

“…Koro-sensei…the paper …it must be a clue!” (Y/N) turns to Karma. “We have to solve this…!”

“Okay.” Karma snatches up one of the papers. “This one should be…” His bravado quickly fades when he realises that the entire thing is written in a foreign language. “…easy.”

“Give it to me.”

Karma hands it over to (Y/N). “I doubt you’ll be able to solve this one.”

“…” (Y/N) scans over the paper. “It…it seems to be written in French. I’m a little rusty, but it’s asking a question: what must an assassin always have?”

…So…she knows French, huh? “…Koro-sensei always tells us that an assassin must always have a second blade,” offers Karma. “As in a back-up plan, if the first should fail.”

“A second blade…” (Y/N) thinks aloud, tapping her foot (something she seems to do when she’s thinking).

“…what would the corresponding numbers for ‘blade’ be in the alphabet, if let’s say, a = 1, b = 2, and so on?” asks Karma

“…2, 12, 1, 4, 5,” (Y/N) says, after a moment’s thought.

Karma inputs the numbers ‘212145’ and tries to open the safe. “…Hey, did you translate that right?”

“No, I’m definitely not wrong.” (Y/N) shakes her head. “That is what the question says…”

“…well, what’s ‘blade’ in French?”

“It would be ‘la lame.’” (Y/N) frowns. “But technically, if you translate ‘la lame’ literally, it becomes ‘the blade’ rather than just ‘blade,’ so ‘blade’ is actually ‘lame’ rather than ‘la lame…’

Karma has it. He quickly inputs the numbers ‘121135,’ and the safe opens with a click, revealing a key.

“Wow…” (Y/N)’s eyes widen. “That was…pretty cool…”

“…heh…you warming up to me now, Princess?”

“…no, I’m not.” Her voice is unsure, and Karma’s heart leaps for no reason at all. “Come on, let’s go.”

“…that octopus is a strange on,” (Y/N) murmurs, repeating her earlier statement.

The entire of 3-E is surrounded by a tall (six meters if Karma has to make an estimate), metal fence, with no barbed wire thankfully, but it’s a fence all the same. The fence isn’t completely solid, though, more like a mesh, and Karma can see to the other side.

“Don’t tell me we have to unlock another door,” groans Karma.

“…no…” (Y/N) points. “I don’t think there is a door.”

Karma looks in the direction (Y/N) is pointing in. And on the floor, he sees a pole.

“Koro-sensei wants us to vault over it. He’s even kept cushioning on the other side, see?” Sure enough, Karma can see a large blue mat on the other side, along with a large rope. “One of us has to vault over, then toss the rope so that the other person can climb over.”

“Alright then, I’ll go-”

“No,” (Y/N) interrupts him forcefully. “I’ll go.”

“…Why?” demands Karma.

“Akabane, pole vaulting is dangerous without intense practice and training.” (Y/N) crosses her arms. “This fence is six meters at least, that’s Olympic levels.”

“And you’re suggesting that you’re capable?”

“…yes. I am.” (Y/N) takes a deep breath. “I’m very experienced in gymnastics and athletics, so something like this is right up my alley.”

“And how do I know you won’t just leave me here?” Karma challenges her.

“…you don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“…” Trust. How can Karma trust someone like her?

But as he looks into her eyes, he can see no manipulation, no deceit. Just the cold hard truth.

“…Alright then. Take the lead, Princess.” Karma reluctantly picks up the pole, and hands it to (Y/N).

(Y/N) steps backwards, taking one breath, two breaths, three. Then she starts to run, eyes trained on her destination, and she brings the pole to the ground, launching herself over the fence, and landing on the mat, uninjured. She stands up, looking at Karma.

She’s going to leave now, Karma knows. She’s going to leave Karma behind, and it serves Karma right for believing in an Asano of all people–

(Y/N) tosses one end of the rope over the fence, ready for Karma to take so that he can finally make it to the other side. “Come on. Climb over before I graduate, yeah?”

…

THE NEXT DAY

…

“…Okano.”

Okano looks up from her lunch, glaring at (Y/N) who is standing before her. “What?”

“…Your cartwheels aren’t perfect,” says (Y/N), and Okano’s opens her mouth to spew a retort, but (Y/N) continues. “But they are very precise and controlled, which is impressive considering that you don’t train very intensely. You also look very graceful from an audience’s perspective, and you can also do multiple cartwheels in a sequence in a high speed, which is also takes a lot of effort. All in all, I would give your cartwheels an eight out of ten.”

“…so…is this your way of saying ‘sorry?’”

“I’m not apologising. I’m stating facts.”

“…” Okano cracks a small smile. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. And, one more thing.”

“…yeah?”

“When I eventually get back into Main, and yes, I will get back into Main, I’m planning on opening the cheerleading team to members of all classes, not just A, B, and C class,” (Y/N) tells her. “You’re welcome to come for try-outs, if you want to. I’m sure you’ll get in.”

This time, Okano’s grin is as bright as the sun.

(Y/N) turns around to face Karma, who was watching from a distance. “Hey, Akabane…you don’t mind if I sit with you for lunch, right?”

Karma smiles, genuinely “Sure thing, Princess.”

(Y/N) and Karma, a few days after ‘The Great Escape Room,’ become friends. One might think that a friendship between someone who is born of the system and someone who breaks the system is completely atypical and absurd, but Karma was never one for the typical anyway, and it would seem that (Y/N) completely agrees.

Today, Koro-sensei just handed back the quizzes they did a few days ago, right before break started, and Karma smiles in satisfaction as he once again looks at his paper with a large ‘96%’ written on it.

“Impressive,” compliments (Y/N), smiling.

“Thanks, Princess.” Karma gives her a lazy grin. He really couldn’t be bothered to, he knew he would ace it, and he did. “Hardly studied too. What did you get?”

“Oh, nothing remarkable.” To anyone else, her tone might sound dismissive, casual, but Karma knows her well enough to detect that underlying something that puts him on edge, so he snatches up her paper, and his eyes widen when he sees her ‘100%.’

Karma Akabane is second. The thought spins around in his head: second, second, second, second, second.

There is a sly smile on (Y/N)’s face. “Just because we’re all buddy-buddy now doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass when I can, Akabane.” She laughs. “Or should I say, ‘Second Place?’”

“…you bitch,” growls Karma.

“Ooh, did I hurt your feewings~?” mocks (Y/N).

“Guys, you shouldn’t fight in here,” says Isogai nervously, seeing the look on Karma’s face. “Just because it’s break doesn’t make it a–”

Karma goes in for the kill, his fingers attacking (Y/N)’s sides and incessantly begins to tickle her with a dark grin on his face. “Take that!”

“Ahahahahha!” Tears pour out of (Y/N)’s eyes as she tries to push Karma off her, but fails, falling to the ground in the process. “Karma, stop!” she chokes out.

Karma grins. “Then beg me for mercy, Princess.”

“P-please…” Her eyes narrow. “Have a breath mint.” (Y/N) suddenly grabs Karma and flips him over, now on top of him.  “Time for reve-”

“In broad daylight?” remarks Bitch-sensei from the doorway, raising an eyebrow. “My my, you two are bold. Just use protection, ‘kay?”

“…” Realization slowly dawns on (Y/N)’s face. “I…I…NO!” She gets off Karma and leaps to her feet. “I would never!”

“Really?” The Bitch Supreme smirks. “Because it sure looked like it, honey.”

“I’m leaving!” (Y/N) storms out of the room in a huff.

Karma doesn’t bother to get up. He lies there, takes his time, pondering over what just happened…

He closes his eyes.

(Y/N) Asano, her image appears

Same as ever. Nothing different. Not at all.

(Is what Karma is telling himself, and it’s true. But his future self will never anticipate the magnetic pull, the backflips his heart makes, the butterflies in his stomach.)

“Ugh, today was so annoying.” (Y/N) rolls her eyes as she walks down the mountain with Karma. “Seriously, now everyone’s shipping us all because Bitch-sensei made it weird. Honestly. Us? A couple?” (Y/N) laughs.

Karma laughs along. “Yeah, could you imagine?”

Ridiculous, honestly.

“Gakushuu!” calls out (Y/N).

Oh no.

Oh no.

Karma quickly grabs (Y/N)’s arm and hisses in her ear, “(Y/N), why is that bastard here?”

(Y/N) slaps Karma’s arm. “I told him to walk with me. And don’t call my brother a bastard.”

“…” Ah. Karma had forgotten that the two were related.

“…(Y/N), why did you bring Akabane with you?” Asano barely does anything to hide the obvious repulsion in his voice.

“Look.” (Y/N) crosses her arms. “Karma’s gonna be hanging around me a lot more now, so I want you both to get along. So be polite. Both of you.”

“He abandoned you,” Karma points out, his voice rising. “He left you to rot in the rain like a stray do-”

“You don’t know anything about me, or (Y/N).” Asano’s eyes flash with anger. “So, I suggest you kindly shut your trap-”

“Let’s just go.” (Y/N) begins to walk the way to her home. “Try to keep up.”

The two boys exchange one last glare, before following (Y/N).

(Y/N) walks much faster than them, and thus, she is now several feet ahead of the two, and safely out of earshot, allowing the boys to argue.

“Let me make one thing clear, Akabane,” says Asano, glaring. “If you intend to hang around my sister, I will not make it easy for you.”

Karma smirks. “Well, I like a good challenge anyway~”

“My sister is not a challenge,” Asano spits. “She’s a person, with fee–”

“What’s that I hear about me?”

You know what Karma said before about being safely out of earshot?

He takes it back.

Does she have super-hearing?

“Can you two not spend two minutes in the same place without fighting?” (Y/N) sighs. “You both are like toddlers, honestly. Well, Karma, you’re on your own now, since we’ve reached our destination. And I’m never walking with the both of you again.”

“I told you,” say Karma and Asano in unison.

(Y/N) laughs a little. “Well, see you tomorrow, Karma.”

“Why did you forgive him?”

“He’s my brother,” answers (Y/N) nonchalantly as they walk up the mountain together.

“He still abandoned you,” Karma points out indignantly. “Are you really gonna make it that easy?”

“…there’s stuff,” mutters (Y/N). “Hard to explain. But he cares about me. And I care about him.”

“…If that’s what you say…”

Maehara asks (Y/N) The Question on a warm, sunny day, while they are all outside.

“Hey (Y/N), how are you so smart?”

“…” She frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I always figured that cheerleaders were supposed to be…dumb?” Maehara laughs awkwardly. “I mean, that’s how it is, right?”

“…Hollywood,” (Y/N) sighs. “There isn’t a single thing it hasn’t managed to fuck up.”

She brings out her phone, and quickly selects a playlist. Upbeat, fast music begins to play.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the show! We’re reaching for the top, and we’ll never fall below!”

(Y/N) then does a series of backflips so fast that Karma’s sight begins to blur, and then does some different jumps that makes her audience hold their breath, seemingly defying gravity.

A show indeed.

The music stops, and (Y/N) bows down to her audience, and Karma, along with a bunch of others, claps hard.

“Does that answer your question?” asks (Y/N), looking straight at Maehara. “…Yeah, it does.”

“People think cheerleading is easy,” (Y/N) tells Karma, later. “And as you can tell, they’re wrong.” She smiles. “My dad first told me that cheerleading was a stupid career choice, and I would be better off investing my time somewhere else. And now today, my cheerleading team has won every competition they’ve taken part in.” She laughs. “Not going to lie, I did a great job.”

“How humble.”

“Oh, shut it, strawberry.” (Y/N) playfully pushes him. “But let that be a lesson: if you work hard enough, nothing can bring you down.”

Thoughts.

That’s all they were.

Silly little thoughts that would pop into Karma’s head annoyingly from time to time, easy to brush off, easy to ignore.

But thoughts will turn into feelings, and feelings are a part of who you are.

The day (Y/N) truly becomes a part of Karma is burned into Karma’s brain.

Today is burned into Karma’s brain.

There are 365 days in a year, and listing out what happened in all of those days would frankly be ridiculous and time consuming, so maybe it would be best to pick out what stands out the most in Karma’s mind…

…

THE FIELD TRIP

…

At this point in time, E-class is in their trip to Kyoto, and this particular moment is the long awaited ‘gossip time…’

“Sounds like a party in here,” Karma remarks as he walks into the room, holding a cup of tea.

“Karma, great timing,” says Isogai. “Which of the girls in our class do you like?”

“…” Karma pays no attention to the paper handed to him, saying the first name that comes to mind: “I believe I’ll have to go with Okuda.”

“Bullshit!” groans Okajima, unsatisfied with Karma’s answer. “Everyone and their grandmothers know you have the hots for (Y/N)!”

“That isn’t true,” says Karma as casually as possibly.

“Bullshit liar, bullshit liar, bullshit liar!” Maehara jeers.

Karma knows opportunity when he sees it, and in this case, he sees it when Koro-sensei peers into the room with a pink, blushing face, noting something down in a notebook.

“Maybe you should be more worried about him.” Karma points at his poor victim.

Almost immediately, the room dissolves into chaos, everyone sans Karma and Nagisa drawing their knives and going after their target.

Karma simply sips at his tea, smiling and revelling in the chaos.

He steps outside to see all boys and girls attacking Koro-sensei, said teacher dodging their attacks at Mach 20, and Karma leans casually leaning against the wall.

“Hey Karma, don’t tell me he spied on you guys too,” says (Y/N) from beside him, looking at the destruction. Karma jumps a little; he hadn’t noticed her.

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Jesus.” (Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I see you aren’t attacking him.”

“Got nothing to hide,” says Karma (lying; he’s very good at it). “And I could say the same about you. You have no secrets either, huh.”

“…heh…” (Y/N) looks right at Karma and smirks. “Nah. I’m just very good at keeping secrets.”

(Karma wonders if drinking insecticide will kill the butterflies in his stomach.)

…

THE CAVE

…

Now, obviously there’s the island incident. The 3-E students got poisoned, Nagisa beat up Takoka, blah, blah, blah.

No one gives a shit about that, so let’s move onto Koro-sensei’s infamous matchmaking scheme (on of many to come): The haunted cave.

Karma and (Y/N) both walk through the cave, the candle Karma’s holding lighting their way. “How much do you bet this is some stupid matchmaking scheme?” says (Y/N), sounding exasperated.

“My firstborn child,” Karma jokes.

“Thought so.” (Y/N) sighs. “That octopus is never gonna give up.”

“Never gonna let you down, never gonna-”

“Shut it.”

They walk in a comfortable silence for a while, before (Y/N) asks another question. Well, it’s less of a question, and more of a statement.

“You’re afraid of Nagisa, aren’t you?”

Karma stiffens. She’s good. “What do you mean? Me, scared of Nagisa?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Karma,” sniffs (Y/N). “You looked scared to death back there with that battle with Takaoka.”

“…you got me there, Princess,” admits Karma.

“Can’t blame you there. He was pretty scary back there.”

“I know, right? And he’s like a mouse most of the time, who’da thunk that he’d have turned out like…like that!” Karma laughs bitterly. “Just goes to show that things you’re the least afraid of are the most dangerous…”

“Everything’s dangerous, Karma,” points out (Y/N). “I mean, I’m dangerous too.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re strong, I know that.”

“It’s not about who can beat you up, Karma. People can ruin you without even laying a hand on you.” (Y/N) narrows her eyes. “All it really takes is a few well-placed rumours and a few leaked secrets to make the world burn.” She sighs. “It’s the mistake a lot of people make, really. It’s so easy to forget. In today’s world, violence will only get you so far. It’s about how well you can mess with people.”

“…you seem to know a lot about messing with people, Princess,” Karma notes.

“Heh.” (Y/N) smirks. “And what are you going to do about that?”

“You shevil.”

“Thank you, darling,” she drawls in response, grinning.

Oh shit, it’s the butterflies again.

Perhaps you have a good picture of their friendship now. Strong, passionate…

The news hits Karma like a truck.

“What do you mean, you’re going back to Main?” Karma demands.

“I just got the letter.” (Y/N) doesn’t make eye contact with Karma, she instead looks down at her feet.  “I’m going back, Karma. Today’s my last day in E-class.”

“So, you’re just going to abandon us?” spat Karma. “You’re going to abandon me?”

The look on her face is like a knife straight through his heart.

“I…I’m not abandoning you.” Her voice is soft. “You all are really precious to me…you’re precious to me, Karma.”

“Then why?” Karma’s voice cracks. “I thought you cared about this. I thought you cared about the assassination. I thought those moments we had actually meant something to you-”

“They do! They mean everything to me! Things are complicated, Karma. I can’t stay…”

“Then prove it.” Karma’s voice is cold. “Prove to me that you aren’t lying, Princess.”

Karma didn’t know what he expected.

A hug? A tear-filled confession of friendship?

But he certainly didn’t expect (Y/N) pulling him in for a kiss.

Karma is a smart person, but he thinks, in this very moment, this is how it feels to be dumb. This is how it feels to have your head empty.

No thoughts, just (Y/N).

He kisses back.

“…” There are a few precious seconds of silence, after (Y/N) stops kissing Karma. “I…” (Y/N) takes a breath. “I’ll be in the cheer club after schools.”

She turns around and begins walking away, and Karma’s brain screams at him to say something, anything, but as you would have it, he stood there, voice gone.

What a shevil she is.

Stealing Karma’s heart and running away the second she kisses him.

Well, Karma supposes he’ll have to steal her heart as well, just to get even~

The Cheer Club, she said.

That’s in the sports hall, isn’t it?

She’ll be happy to see him, right?

Right?

The door is already open, so Karma peeks in, to see…

(Y/N) is on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Karma has never seen her in such a vulnerable state before, and it almost feels like he’s peeking in on something private, not meant for his eyes.

(Y/N) shakes someone’s body, tears streaming down her face. “Aiko? Wake up! You need to wake up!” Around her, many more bodies are scattered, and Karma realises with a jolt that they belong to girls. Actual girls.

“They were weak.”

Ah.

The Principal.

He looms above (Y/N), looking down on her disapprovingly as she cries. “You allowed yourself to become weak, and in the process, you made them weak,” he tells her. It feels like they’re in the middle of a conversation. “While you were in E-class, their performance declined, bit by bit, until I had to…step in.”

“They weren’t ready,” (Y/N) chokes out. “They couldn’t take it. You killed them!”

“Now, now, you shouldn’t exaggerate so. There are a few broken bones here and there, but they’ll come out of this stronger. You’ll come out of this stronger.” The smile on his face is truly terrifying.

Just when Karma thinks that this possibly can’t get any worse, (Y/N) looks at him, glances at him from the corner of his eyes, and mouths, go.

By god Karma wants to stay.

But he doesn’t know anything.

So he goes.

An ambulance comes afterwards, and (Y/N) and Karma help carry (Y/N)’s Main Campus friends to the ambulance beds.

And when all is said and done, she collapses into Karma’s arms and cries.

…

THE NEXT DAY

…

“…So…” They sit together on a bench in a park. Karma licks a cone of strawberry ice-cream aimlessly. “Complicated?”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) sighs. “We’re not your standard textbook dysfunctional family, Karma. We’re functionally dysfunctional, if that makes sense.” She leans into him a little, resting her weary bones. “He’s more of a teacher than a father.” Karma can sense the obvious hurt in that last sentence. “Living with him is like walking on eggshells. I always feel like a disappointment, always feel like I’m weak…”

“Well, then, the solutions obvious, then isn’t it?” says Karma. “Live with me.”

“…huh?”

“Live with me.” Karma grins. “And bring your asshole brother along with you while you’re at it. Let’s really piss him off.”

“…” A wide grin slowly appears on (Y/N)’s face. “You genius! I could just kiss you right now!”

“Then do it.” Karma leans forward, closer to (Y/N). “I dare you.”

“…bastard.”

And so, she takes the dare, and there’s no one in the world except for them.

[writersfearofrecognition]

Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

Chapter 5:

After we sing some midday songs, one half of the counsellors takes the kids to Abi’s work station, the others are instructed to start cleaning up the places that weren’t needed today and tomorrow.

Jacob tries to get in my team but Kaitlyn drags him with her before he can object and i walk down to my hiking station alone, gathering random forgotten bits while trying not to think about what Kait said.

I’m done way too quickly so i lay down in the grass and look at the clouds. thinking about my future.

we three would move in together, the house was already chosen by Jacob’s parents and rented by mine…maybe also an overprotective rich schtick by his.

Kaitlyn’s parents were glad we were all together, taking care of their little ‚kitty‘.

i snort, Kaiti would kill me if she knew i thought about that nickname.

and my parents….didn’t really care. they promised to help with the move but who knows what could come in-between…Jacob was the most reliable person i know.

that realisation made me sit up.

Well. Kaitlyn too. but more in the practical sense. she was more ruthless…

Jake was the one that was always there to consult me…for every heartbreak, for every bad grade, for every cancelled family time…he, his stupid yellow van and infuriating…cute…grin had always been right outside my window.

he would drive us to Kaitlyn’s house and then imagine some scenario that made Kaitlyn come right out the door.

and then we would drive around, sit at the weirdest parking lots or lay on the littlest patch of grass we could find.

i couldn’t risk all of that for a stupid feeling i got once.

well…with one eye closed only once.

„Fuck.“ i whisper and stand up.

„okay. under no circumstances we will talk about that feeling. even if we now know that it’s there.“ i coach myself while slowly walking back to the lodge with everything i found.

at the lodge the others aren’t back yet so i clean up slowly, now truly focused on my game plan.

god me, Kaitlyn and Jacob were such cliché athletes weren’t we?

i giggle quietly about that realisation when the doors slam open and kids flood the room again.

„OH! are you already back?“

the kids swarm me and show me each and every band they made for me or anyone else.

i talk to them attentively and don’t even notice that the other counsellors came with them.

„Hey-.“ Jacob starts but is called back by Mr. H. for the fire pit and he sighs before walking off, i didn’t even meet his eyes.

„Kaitlyn made you something (Y/N)!!!“ one of the kids yell and Kaitlyn scoffs embarrassed.

„oh really? did the mean, mean Kaitlyn make me a friendship bracelet?“ i asked with a teasing tone.

she rolls her eyes and shoves it into my hands.

it was our colours. yellow, black and green. and our initials woven into it.

i actually start tearing up a little when i see and she notices.

„hey, it’s no biggy. Jake made them. he wanted me to give you it tho…“ she gives me a meaningful stare and i sigh.

„okay i need help putting it on, can one of you please help me?“ i ask into the small round of kids gathered around me and the bracelet is promptly secured on my wrist.

Kaitlyn pats my shoulder and we walk towards the fire pit together.

back at the fire pit, the kids thankfully all want to sit around me so i had a natural barrier against Hurricane Jake…god i love that nickname. platonically of course. yeah. yeah. anyways.

Jacob and Nick appear with the fire wood right after all our kids had settled down and i act like i’m busy with the kids.

he sits down right opposite to me and tries multiple times to signal me to leave with him but i stay strong.

after some time, Mr H. notices and gives him more duties to keep him contained.

Jacob walks off sulking and Mr H. gives me a concerned look which i shake my head at.

nothing was wrong. haha. hm.

i sing more songs and dance until Jacob comes back with a big boxes after some time and sits down opposite me again.

Mr H. opens the box and takes out the letters the kids wrote at the start of the camp…and the letters we wrote at the start of our journey to the quarry.

„oh god.“ i mutter and Abigail giggles as she was the only counsellor that heard me.

„Kids. you know what these are right?“

„yesss!“ the kids yell and he smiles.

„those were the letters you wrote to yourself, 2 months ago. i’ll give them back to you now and you can read them and if you want to you can read them out loud of everyone, but we won’t force you. those words are very, very private.“

he picks up the first envelope and shouts out the name.

when he’s done he still has 8 letters in his hand.

„and those are the letters our hardworking counsellors wrote to themselves before they drove here. those are also very private. but you can also read them to us if you want to.“

he gives the letters out alphabetically and i give him a smile when he pushes my letter into my hands.

i read slowly.

i was excited for this camp, the new experiences as a counsellor…excited to spend time with my best friends. find new friends.

once i’m done i look up and watch the others read their letters.

Ryan is deeply in thought, Emma is smiling and Jacob is furrowing his brow before raising his hand. „Mr H.“ „yeah?“ „i would like to read my letter, if it’s okay.“ „sure Jacob.“ Mr H. sits back down and gives him the go to start reading.

„uh okay- it’s going to be a bit weird…but yeah. those are my feelings.“

i gulp at the word feelings.

„hey Jakey, it’s me, from 2 months ago. i’m writing this right before picking up Kaitlyn and then (Y/N) to drive to the train stations to pick up the other guys. Somehow Mr H. got me to be the driver this year, i dunno how he did that. uh yeah. he said we should write about our feelings, and yeah. that’s weird.“

the kids giggle around him as he scoffs smiling at himself.

„i’m really f- flipping excited to get out of our town. i mean it’s ours and i love it but yeah. maybe it will different for us. like without tech and stuff. just sports and nature. i know (Y/N) gonna love hiking around all day. and Kaitlyn’s gonna love it too. in her own way. and i’m gonna love being with them. doing the sh- stuff i love. for 2 flipping months. like dude. that’s like all summer. all by ourselves. out of this town. with new people. like a test thing before we move to college…together.“ he stops for a second and my eyes snap from the fire to him automatically.

he’s looking right at me.

„we three are going to be together forever. whatever happens.“ he says without looking at the paper.

i stare into his eyes.

mind blank.

he swallows and looks back down.

„uh yeah- whatever happens…and dude am i excited for the other dudes.“

the guys start cheering.

„and the kids….f- fling i forgot my baseball bat.“ he stops reading and looks up again, „i packed that before writing on.“

„i’m going to miss my cat tho. i hope mom actually cares for her, but yeah. after this summer she’s going to come with us.“

i smile. i miss his cat as well.

„Mr H. said we should write a goal we have for this summer,“ he explains, „i didn’t really write about it, i just made a check list.“

„typical jock.“ Ryan mutters and Jacob huffs but continues, „first, stay strong. like muscles. because of my scholarship.“

„well you definitely achieved that,“ Nick laughs.

„second, don’t make (Y/N) or Kaitlyn hate you…“ he looks up at the two of us and we both frown.

i from shock, her from unwanted affection. „well yeah, i- don’t think we’re mad at you.“ Kaitlyn says, awkwardly and i nod fast.

„third, make it a good time for everyone.“

Mr H. pats his back, „You did that son.“

he nods and looks back at the paper.

„yeah. that’s it.“

„okay. thank you Jacob for reading. anyone else?“ Mr H. looked around the fire and a few kids raised their hands but no other counsellors.

„well then, Olivia, how about you read next.“

i don’t really listen anymore.

too tired and too…thoughtful.

Kaitlyn drags me up with her when the night finally comes to an end.

i sing the camp song one last time and Mr H. splits the group again, one for cleaning up, one for bringing the kids to the cabins.

I’m team cabin and walk to the front of the group before any wardrobe man could sneak into my point of view.

since Mr H. patrolled the cabins there was no way for us to sneak out for one last party without kids and i fall asleep before Emma could ponder over any other idea.

it's the next morning, some kids ask me for the favour of Jacob but i tell them that they have to ask him themselves.

i throw my bag inside his van first thing in the morning, while he is getting bombarded with questions, so he can't even look at me.

thank god.

I'm too embarrassed for any contact with him.

the drive home would be prison.

at 6 pm all the kids wander inside the big bus, the bags were carried by Jacob, due to the favour and i wave from the banister with Dylan and Nick.

after that i follow them inside like a dog while Kaitlyn watches me leave from downstairs.

our first conversation would be once we three were alone on the highway to home and it would entail nothing about feelings, or love, or Emma, or Nick, or anyone else. only good old friends. platonically friends.

i try to get myself into a good mood inside the toilet by smiling fake but Dylan’s hard knock gets me out of my feelings.

„Come on (Y/N), other people need to shit too.“ „sorry!“ i come out and give him a small smile, „sorry.“

he only hums and locks the door in my face.

i hear Jacob’s boots approach the main hall, so i scramble to the next door and land in a small living room, made writing room. i hear Jacob talking to Nick and Dylan, then a sigh and how two bags are picked up.

„air’s clean.“ Nick yells and laughs at my expression when i come out hesitantly. „you can’t hide forever alright?“ he asks in his Australian accent.

„i- that is a problem for future me.“ i mutter and look at the front door, scared he will come back.

Dylan hums and wants to say something but is interrupted by Mr H. „Kids, come get the phones.“

„ah. finally.“ Dylan sighs and Nick and I snicker.

I intentionally don’t take Jacob’s phone, only the phones of the girls. but Nick is fast than me when it come to Abigail’s.

I give him a knowing look and he smiles.

„well then. bring them the phones, i’ll be right with you…“ Mr H. mutters and we all hum, too busy with the implications.

i give the boys the right of way and lowkey hide behind Dylan as Nick throws Jacob his phone. when they walk down the stairs i act busy with my phone, even though there is no signal and no notifications and stay between Dylan and Nick.

18:21

after Emma and Abigail arrive without their bags, Mr H. and Ryan come back with the van keys and Dylan mopes about his phone battery, Jacob tries to start the van.

„What’s wrong?“ Mr. H. asks, weirdly stressed. „Ugh…Dude. i don’t know. i- i think there’s something wrong with the engine, Mr H.“

i sigh and cross my arms, while the situation gets even more heated.

finally Mr H. tries to start the van himself and Jacob wanders beside me.

i shrink into myself and try to keep calm. his stupid green shirt looks too good.

„I thought i told you kids to check everything!“ Mr H. yells and i jump.

Jacob puts his hands inside his pockets and hums.

Kaitlyn tries to defend herself, but Mr H. doesn’t take it and she and Jacob share a look. He steps out again with a swear.

„well, uh- Look it’s not that big of a deal, we’ll just spend one more night here.“ Jacob says slightly concerned why Mr H. is so aggressive now.

„No- NO. Just stop. let me think.“ i jump again as he now yells exactly at us and Jacob take a step forward to give me protection.

Ryan follows Mr H. with his eyes, now really confused.

He catches the keys Mr H. throws him and follow him while he is muttering around like a mad man.

after a short private conversation where Ryan just frowns in confusion, Mr H. drives backwards, almost hitting me, if Jacob and i didn’t jump out of the way and he is off.

„What’s with our bags?“ Emma yells after him but he is long gone.

„so…what was that about?“ Dylan asks into the round.

„he uh…said to stay inside. that we’re not leaving until the morning.“

„are you kidding me?“ Emma yells and my mouth falls open.

another night. with this shit hanging over my best friend and me. i can’t help but look at him but he is grinning from ear to ear.

„Oh (Y/N)…“ he’s swaying from side to side as i cradle my head in my hands, ignoring the feeling spreading in my stomach because he said my name.

„fuck. my. life…“ i mutter as Jacob dances around.

„what are we supposed to do?!“ Emma yells again.

„we should go inside. like he said…“ Ryan’s deep voice beside me said.

But Dylan had a different idea.

„We could go inside. until morning…or…or we could do something else.“

i raise my head. Dylan always had genius ideas. maybe he knew a way home.

Ryan asked what he was talking about and Dylan explained, „P. A. R. T…why the fuck not!?“

i groan, but Dylan talked on, „It seems like that stars have aligned for us. no?“

i didn’t really have another choice. either staying the night alone, with the possible threat of talking about FEELINGS when Jacob corners me with no distractions. or with others and no possible way to talk about feelings.

i sigh quietly while Jacob jumps around.

„oh, dude. fuck yes! I’m in. Nick, you’re in.“ Jacob said excitedly besides me, while pointing at Nick who nods relaxed.

„Dylan’s in. Obviously. my man.“

interesting he knew his name now huh.

„i’m with Dylan.“ i say before Jacob can address me, staring on the floor. „yeah dude!“ Dylan high-fives me with more enthusiasm than i could ever have.

Kaitlyn agreed, Emma as well.

Abigail didn’t really want to, but also not really had another choice and finally Ryan reluctantly agreed, but said it was a bad idea, which made me snicker. 

Jacob takes the planning lead, obviously.

Abigail and Nick for firewood, obviously.

„(Y/N) and i will go to the stores for some supplies…“ he teases and i gulp but Emma comes to my rescue.

„I’ll go. (Y/N)’s probably still exhausted from the hike right?“ „Right.“ i say quickly and don’t meet Jacob’s eyes. he would catch me lying. he always did.

„(Y/N) comes with me to the fire pit. we need to talk anyways.“ Kaitlyn's bee earrings are the last thing i see before i get dragged off into the sunset.

A/N: following the canon for now :)

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unspoken Challenge ~ Bang Chan [M]

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

GENRE: Smut, fluffy, nerdy/dom chan

PAIRING: Nerd Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: Light choking, squirting, Chan dom...I think that’s it

A pen was tapping over and over again on the desk behind you and it was starting to stress you out. The class was already hard enough you didn't need some moron making it worse, you took in a deep breath trying to push down the urge to smack whoever it was behind you. They'd done nothing but tap the pen onto the desk as if they were anxiously waiting for something to happen. As time passed the pen tapper got faster until you finally snapped, turning around and slamming your hands onto the desk making the pen tapping stop.  

"Do you have any idea how god damn annoying you are?!" The boy behind you smirked as you snapped at him, he'd been doing it to wind you. Felix was the University player and liked it whenever girls talked back to him, it gave him a reason to shamelessly flirt with them.

"The dog bites, I like it." You rolled your eyes at the boy who had a giant smirk on his face. Lee Felix, he was one of the popular students at your university and you hated him and his group of friends. They did nothing but wind you and another student up - Christopher Bang - claiming that you were both cheating on tests or they would come up with some kind of nasty rumour about you both this week alone it was that you'd slept with the entire football team. It wound you up that they were always so cruel to Chan when he was nothing but sweet to everyone he met, it didn't bother you so much when they were mean to you but when they were mean to Chan it pissed you off.

"What's up princess? Chan cant get it up and satisfy you in bed?" A bunch of snickers followed the comment he made but you just rolled your eyes again, turning to face the front of as you started waiting for time to pass. 'princess' was Chan's nickname for you, no one else's and it irked you that someone else had the audacity to use it on you. All you had to do was make it through this one lesson and everything would be fine, you could go and find Chan, Minho and Seungmin and go for lunch. The only thing getting you through this lesson was the thought of lunch with your boyfriend and two close friends.

"We all know what you're after, a good dicking but you're not going to get it from Chan," Felix whispered in your ear as he leant forward to you. He noticed you watching the clock above the teachers head and chuckled softly, 

"You can come to me anytime, I'll show you how a real man should fuck you..." Hearing his words you drowned out his voice thinking about the first time that you and Chan had been together...How he was nothing like you thought he would be. See, everyone had Chan pegged to be the super quiet, shy and nerdy type...Which he was but once you got him into the bedroom it was as if an alter ego took over. You called him Christopher since Chan hated whenever someone would call him by his long name.

"Running late?" Minho smirked as you began sprinting towards the student library as you ignored him but he just ran alongside you, teasing you repeatedly as you rushed to get to the door. 

"Minho, fuck off. If I'm late again Chan will kill me." You mumbled as you slowed down to a walk outside the door, pushing the double doors open to see Chan had already packed up his things. 

"Chan I was caught up at work-"

"Whatever, you clearly don't want to get through the class. I'm not wasting my time with you." You hated that he was blowing you off, you'd been trapped at a late shift so you couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't as though you had Chan's number so you could let him know what was going on. He was so private he wouldn't give you his mobile number or where his dorm was, you'd tried to get it from him but he wouldn't tell you.

"Chan I need to pass this class, work kept me behind and made me do a later shift...I want to pass this class please-" You were following him out of the library as he walked away from you, keeping his head down as he tried to ignore the fact that you were there. You weren't going to let him get away with ditching you, not when you really needed this from him. There was no one else you could go to. No one was as smart as Chan and he knew that.

"It's Friday night, just go out and drink...Whatever it is you do on a Friday." He mumbled to you, stopping himself from walking when you stood in front of him. This was the first time he looked at you properly today, you weren't in your normal attire. Normally you'd be in jeans and a low cut top but today you were in a diner dress and some tennis shoes. The nametag on your dress being the giveaway that it was your work attire.

"We can do this Monday, I have plans tonight." He mumbled moving away from you but all he could think about was the dress you were wearing and the way you looked in the dress. He wasn't an idiot, he knew you were good looking but he also knew you were out of his league so he was never going to do anything. That didn't stop his mind from wandering about things though, the things he would do to you if you were his and he could have his way with you. Punishing you for being late to an important study session, punishing you for the way you wore low cut tops and bent over in front of him. Sometimes he thought you only did those things just to tease him. 

Minho chuckled at you as you watched Chan walking away, his leg was kicked up on the wall behind him as he laughed at you.

"You're not going to drop this are you?" You shook your head at his question and demanded Chan's dorm room number. You knew they were living in the same dorm building and he had to know where Chan was. There was no way you were going to not study, Chan was the smartest kids in the university and not to mention in your course. He was your only hope of passing the test on Tuesday.

The door swung open but Chan didn't seem too happy to see you standing there. The smile on his face dropped and he rolled his eyes, he thought you were the pizza he'd ordered himself. His ''plans'' for Friday night were to sit alone watching the new Anime that had come out with a pizza.

"I told you we could study Monday-" He went to shut the door but you pushed your foot in front of it stopping him from doing so if you were anybody else he would have continued to shut the door. 

"Chan, the test is Tuesday. Please. I'm hopeless without your help." He nodded at you not disagreeing that you were hopeless in it and not being able to resist the puppy dog look in your eyes so let you into his dorm room.

"You get one hour, any more than that I'll charge you." You excitedly threw your arms around him, jumping up and down as you thanked him over and over again but his mind was racing. You were still in the diner outfit that made his mind wander over everything, he could feel your chest pressed against him that made him bite his lip.

"Y-Yeah, come on in." He stuttered out, pushing his thick black glasses onto his face as he shut the door behind you. 

"What exactly is the part you're struggling on?" He questioned as he walked you into the living area of his apartment, sitting you down and sitting beside you with his own books. 

"If I say all of it will you kill me..." He raised his eyebrows at you and shook his head, he had no idea how you could have been struggling with any of it. He was helping the tutor grade papers and all of yours were on par with his. You were smart to say you were one of the popular girls in the University,

"I've been behind because of work, I haven't had time to get as much studying as I would like done." He nodded along with you and then he started questioning you on small bits from the classes that week. Wanting to know what you did and didn't know so he could come up with a studying style that would be best for you. 

Later that night you woke up to a blanket being laid over you, you flinched looking up to see Chan standing there. He'd been grilling you for most of the night with questions and when his pizza finally arrived he shared it with you. Choosing to help you rather than throwing you to the curb like he said he was going to do,

"You fell asleep, you looked peaceful so I was going to just-" You shook your head, telling him that he didn't have to explain himself to you.

"C-Can I come over during the weekend? I don't have a shift so I can study for longer. Unless you have plans?" You suggested, getting up from the sofa and hunting around for your bag, the only plans he had would be the anime and he liked the idea of helping you far more than that. 

"I don't have plans...You can come tomorrow." He whispered as he began walking you to the door, checking outside of the door to make sure the male tutor wasn't around and you wouldn't get scolded for being in the boy's dorm. The one rule on campus, no girls in the boy's dorms, no boys in the girl's dorms. 

"Thanks for this Chan, I owe you one." Without even thinking, you stood up on your tiptoes to give him a small kiss on the cheeks. His ears began to turn a bright red colour making you giggle as you quietly snuck out of his room and headed home, looking forward to the weekend of studying with him. Chan's hand slowly raised to his cheek as he touched where your lips had been, he groaned to himself ignoring the tent that was starting to pitch in his jeans. It was just a stupid kiss yet his mind kept wandering back to the butterflies he'd been feeling.

The next night you were sitting together after studying all day, it felt as though you were in class rather than studying. Chan had different tests laid out for you, flashcards and study folders all laid out for you to work from. 

"I could rip my eyeballs out, how do you get all of this done." You yawned at him, it seemed as though he just glanced at a page and the information would instantly be implanted into his brain.

"You're like one of those Aliens, aren't you? You absorb information with one glance!" The fake gasp that came from you made Chan laugh which sent butterflies to your stomach, you'd not heard him laugh like that before. The smile on his face was enough to make your whole body feel like you were floating, he looked so cute when he smiled like that. A small dimple on his cheek and the way his eyes scrunched together,

"You have a really pretty smile," You whispered before you even realised you were talking aloud, a giant blush spread along Chan's freckled cheeks and his ears turned a brighter red than before. 

"I'm sorry cutie, I didn't mean to embarrass you." You squeezed his cheeks playfully but his hand gripped onto your wrist to stop you from babying him like you were, 

"Don't treat me like I'm a baby, I'm not." He growled at you, you were taken back a little not expecting this side to come from him it and interested you a lot. 

"I-I'm sorry, I was just playing...You are cute though Chan." Your comment was only met by another growl and he moved away from you muttering something under his breath that you didn't hear.

"Chan?" You went to reach for him to apologise but he grabbed your wrists again, pinning you to the sofa below him. You squirmed under his grasp looking up into his dark eyes as he stared down at you,

"I'm not some cute little nerd," You let out a small whimper as you looked up at him. A pool went down to your core at the way he looked at you, his eyes had darkened over and it wasn't the nerdy Chan you knew. You squirmed once again under his grasp. 

"Squirming so much and I haven't even touched you," He smirked and you could have sworn the nerdy Chan you knew was gone and replaced with whoever this was now. 

"You're so pretty when you're scared...Maybe I should fuck you dumb huh? Then maybe we can fill the brain with the study material...Stop you watching your phone every four seconds." He'd caught you reading through something on your phone that wasn't the work he was setting you and he didn't care what it was he just didn't want you to waste his or your time. This side of him made you excited but you also wanted to tease him for it see what else he was hiding under the nerdy persona he was exhibiting, 

"I bet you'd cum as soon as you put it in me," You challenged, looking him in the eyes as you bucked you hips up to meet his. He licked his lips watching you as he nodded along with what you were saying, not agreeing with you but accepting the unspoken challenge. 

"Is that a bet?" You nodded your head at him and he smirked, throwing his glasses down onto the coffee table where your books were left unattended now. 

"If I win, you study all weekend and you owe me a favour." He told you as he let go of your wrists completely watching to see what you do.

"And if I win, which I will...What do I get?" He shrugged his shoulders,

"Whatever you want, but trust me, kitten-" He bent down to whisper in your ear this time, 

"You're not going to win." His voice sent shivers down your spine and you bit down on your tongue as you watched him closely, wanting nothing more than to make out with him on the spot. 

"What makes you so sure? You're just a nerd-" You stopped talking as soon as he pulled the hoodie off from his body revealing a pack of abs you never would have guessed were under there. 

"Concentrate darling, anyone would think you have a thing for the nerd." He growled grabbing you by your neck and standing you up as he carefully walked you towards the bedroom. He hadn't even touched you and you could feel how wet you were, practically leaking through your panties. 

"Strip," He ordered as he slammed his bedroom door shut, sitting on the edge of his bed as he watched you closely. You smirked at him, slowly undoing the zip of your black jacket before revealing a black lowcut top you'd worn a couple of times before. He kept his eyes on you, giving no inclination as to what he was feeling or thinking as you stripped.

"Slowly," He whispered getting down onto the floor in front of you as you got to nothing but your panties. You hissed as he slapped your thighs and you slowly began to lower your panties. 

"So fucking wet for the nerd." He chuckled as he watched the way your arousal stuck to your panties before he threw you down onto the bed. Kissing you roughly as he let his tongue explore your mouth you wrapped your arms around his neck as you relaxed into the kiss. Feeling sparks fly out of your body the moment he kissed you. The kiss intensified and he smirked, dragging you to the edge so you were displayed out for him, he ran his hand over your thighs. 

"Spread them," You did as he said and looked at him as he watched you closely. 

"Do you want me to touch you?" You nodded desperately, hopeless for some kind of touch from him.

"Where do you want me to touch you? Use your words," You wanted to scream at him just to touch you but you didn't, you stayed quiet as you looked at him. 

"H-Here," You whispered running your own finger over your clit but he slapped it away before slowly rubbing his thumb over your clit. You bit your lip, holding back the moans that were trying to escape from you, 

"Don't hide the moans, let everyone know who's making you feel good." He ordered you as he thumb continued to rub your clit in circles vigorously. You moaned out, rolling your head back against the mattress as you enjoyed his touches. Pathetic and high pitched whimpers leaving your lips whenever he would change the direction of his rubbing, 

"Feel good baby? Is the nerd making you feel good?" He questioned in a condescending tone that only made you more attracted to him. When you didn't answer him he wrapped his other hand around your neck, applying a small amount of pressure making you choke out a moan. 

"Answer me." 

"Yes! F-Feels so fucking good!" You cried out only to be met with a slap against your clit making you cry out again, he let go of your neck and pushed two fingers into you. 

"So tight princess, have you not fucked someone in a while?" He questioned as he began to rock his fingers in and out of you, using his other thumb on your clit again. 

"N-No...N-Not s-since last year." You whimpered not knowing why you were telling him you hadn't been laid in a while. 

"Maybe that's why you're always so pent up...Just need a good fucking," You nodded at him as you desperately began to plea for him to let you cum. He only rubbed your clit faster and smirked up at you, 

"Can I cum? Please?" He chuckled darkly as you begged for him to let you cum, you were dripping down onto the sheets each time he pulled his fingers out of your cunt. 

"Want you to ride my thigh first." You were shocked at his words but without hesitation, you pushed him to sit down on the bed and you straddled his thigh. Moaning out as the thick fabric came into contact with your bare core. 

"F-Fuck." You whimpered as you began to slowly move your hips on his thigh. Rocking back and forth as he put a finger on your clit making you cry out. 

The friction was getting too much for you and you were crying out his name. Your head laid on his shoulder as you rode his thigh. 

"You can cum now, like a good girl." He whispered, and just like that you did. 

"Chan!" Your hands dug into his arm as you continued to ride his thigh. Cumming onto the fabric of his jeans before he pushed you down onto the bed again, your legs were shaking as you begged for him to fuck you instead of teasing you. 

"I-I get it, I shouldn't have said what I said...Y-You win." You whispered as he began to unbuckle the belt on his jeans. 

"You're still so wet princess, and look at the mess you made." You glanced at his trousers and felt the heat rush up your body in embarrassment. 

"I want you to make a mess like that on my cock, can you do that baby girl?" You nodded at him, 

"Y-Yes Chan," He smirked at how easily you'd turned into a begging and whimpering mess for him. 

"Stand up," You did as he said and he walked over to you, chuckling as you struggled to keep your balance. As he kicked off his boxers you sank down on your knees to get a good look at him. He was huge, larger than you had been expecting and it made your mouth water. You wanted to taste him, you needed his cum but before you could even put your lips on him he shook his head at you. At first, he was going to let you but after seeing how excited you had been to do it he stopped himself wanting to prove you wrong. 

"Lay down and spread your legs." You did as he sat and he smirked watching you.

"Good girl, so wet for me as well." He chuckled as he began aligning himself at your entrance before sinking into you. You moaned out as he stretched you out, your walls clenching around him as he grunted. 

"So fucking tight," You mewled out in response to him and he chuckled moaning when he began to push in and out of you. His hands gripped onto your hips as he began to thrust in and out of you, moaning our your name. 

"Feels so good," You moaned out as you felt his cock moving in and out of you. Your walls gripping around him as if he belonged inside of you. 

"Shit Chan," You whimpered as he continued to move inside of you, his hips slamming into you as you felt your next orgasm approaching, you squirmed underneath him. Digging your feet into his ass to make him hit deeper, 

"So good!" You screamed out, dragging your nails down his back as he continued to push into you, the feeling making your head spin as it felt as though you were floating. The wet sounds filled the air with the sound of slapping skin and moans, both yours and Chan's as he continued fucking into you. 

"I can feel you getting closer, do you want to cum?" He questioned, reaching down as he began rubbing your clit. You cried out at the touch and he chuckled darkly, slapping into you harder you rolled your head back in ecstasy. 

"Cum." He commanded you and you did. Screaming out his name as you rolled your head back, gripping onto the sheets around you as you came harder than you ever had done before. You whimpered feeling your orgasm keep ripping through you as you clenched and twitched around him, an unfamiliar wetness came from you as you squirted around him moaning out loudly as it did. 

"S-Shit! W-What-" You didn't have time to question what it was as Chan began to pump into you. Grunting loudly as he came into you hard, filling you up so much you came around him again at the feeling. 

"F-Fuck." You cried out as you came down from your high, panting heavily as he pulled out of you and laid down beside you on the bed. 

"Whoa." You whispered as you turned on your side to look at him, the blushing shy Chan was back and you giggled softly. 

"Where did he come from?" You questioned, running your finger up and down his chest and abs as you waited for him to answer, 

"Where did who come from?" He frowned looking at you as he wrapped a blanket over your body, not wanting you to get sick or catch a cold. 

"Christopher." You winked at him and he chuckled shyly, shaking his head at you. 

"I hope it wasn't the last time he comes out to play...I-I enjoyed that." The same smirk was back on his lips once he heard your words, 

"Well if you study and pass your test maybe he'll come out to play again." He winked at you as you leant forward to give him a small kiss on the lips. 

The bell rang waking you up from your daydream, you practically jumped out of your seat to get out of the classroom but Felix was faster. He raced up behind you and grabbed your elbow so you would turn to face him,

"Come home with the big boys," He whispered to you, trying to be as seductive as possible but all he was doing was coming across as a cock. 

"No thanks, my boyfriend is waiting for me." You turned around to see Chan standing against the wall, he was wearing an oversized blue sweater you'd gotten him and the new pair of thick square glasses. 

"Hi!" You yelled out, snatching your arm away from Felix as you walked over to Chan, 

"Why was Felix holding onto you?" He questioned, wrapping his arms around you protectively as he eyed up Felix, 

"He was just being an idiot. Telling me how he could fuck me how a real man should," Chan scoffed at the comment and looked at Felix. 

"Trust me, the way she screams my name at night I'm surprised you haven't heard." He smirked at Felix turning you around and walking away from the boys who were all watching after you as you giggled to Chan about what you both had planned for that night. 

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @channiewoo @minholuvs @lkwonmj​

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

[ingeniouscollectionthing]

Mine (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Request: Maybe some jealous Tom during the Yuleball smut? When he didn't ask the reader out and he gets into a fight with the dude she went with?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Dark, Spanking etc. the typical stuff.

“How dare you dance in the arms of another man?”, Tom grunted, as he slapped your already red ass once more. 

“How dare you let him touch you in the ways only I am allowed to?!”, now he aggressively pulled at your hair, making you arch your back, as he slammed his rock-hard cock into your cunt unbelievably fast.

“I – I’m so sorry Tommy, I didn’t mean to”, you said in a hoarse voice, before another moan left your lips as Tom hit your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, babygirl…you fucking should be”. 

You should’ve seen it coming, really. All week long were you waiting for your boyfriend to ask you out to the annual Yule ball. You had everything planned; the dress you bought was the perfect mixture of sexy and elegant, just how he liked it. You also spent a good amount of money on beautiful underwear for him to discover - you were so excited to see the amazed lustful look he’d give you if you revealed it to him.

But he never mentioned attending the ball together, he never brought it up. So as you finally took it upon yourself to ask him out, the day of the ball, the only response you got –

“Oh come on, darling. I do not like participating in social gatherings like these, you know I never did.”

“You wouldn’t even consider to accompany your goddamn girlfriend? For Merlin’s sake Tom, do you ever think of the things I want? Or is your ego too big to consider a woman’s wish for once?!” He shrugged.

You couldn’t deny that you felt a pang of pain in your chest, but as always, you sucked it up, as you stormed out of his dorm, slamming the door in the process. Tom on the other hand just laughed at your ridiculous behaviour. You’d come around anyway, you always come back.

If he didn’t care about what you wanted, you might as well seek out another man to be your date tonight. Someone who’d give you the appreciation that you needed, after all most boys at Hogwarts literally licked the floor you walked on.

And sure enough there were at least ten of them trailing your steps through the corridors just to get your attention. You already found a date however, by the way without any efforts, really – someone Tom absolutely loathed with a great passion.

Acamus McLaggen, a Gryffindor in his last year – good looking, overconfident and arrogant – a Gryffindor at his truly worst. You knew he adored you, after all he was the one trying to sneak a love potion into your morning tea in 4th grade. Tom was furious back then. He’ll probably kill him now. Perfect Plan, you thought.

“Is this what you wanted, you little dumb girl? To be fucked? To be fucked by McLaggen?”, Tom spit with venom in his voice, one of his hands sneaking around your body to grab your throat. With great pressure his hand cut off your air supply, making tears appear in the corners of your eyes.

Just as you thought he’d let you suffocate, he let loose again. His cock still pounded into your pussy, rubbing deliciously on your clit everytime it went out and back into your warm walls.

“Yes that’s right. Now you’re sorry, huh? When I show you who you belong to”

You let out a scream as your second orgasm of the night clashed through you, making you squirt all over his muscled thighs. It wouldn’t be the last one either, you realized quickly, as Tom pulled out of you just to throw you onto the floor on your back. He crawled over you in between your aching legs, before he kissed you hard, all teeth and tongue. As he pulled back he looked at you and with a dirty smirk he wiped away your tears – then he plunged into your swollen pussy again, groaning as he felt your walls already constricting against him. You were completely overstimulated, however Tom utterly adored the way you screamed and whimpered for him to still continue, as your nails clawed down his broad back.

“Tommy…please make me cum again.. I’ll be a good girl I promise!”, you moaned, as he left marks all over your neck and cleavage.

“Who do you belong to?”, he whispered hungrily.

 Tom hasn’t seen you since you left him alone. Until now he didn’t even spend a single thought on you, but he quickly realized that he actually missed your mere presence by his side. Maybe he was a bit harsh on you, he thought, as he went over to your dorm, knocking before opening the door – just to find it empty. Tom was confused, you weren’t in your bed, like he expected you to be – you weren’t there waiting for him. The only thing on your bed was your school uniform, lying in an unorganized pile. He put two and two together though, quickly walking back to his room to change into a proper suit to attend the godforsaken ball. He needed to find you, because he knew that if you were all alone at that event, every single boy in Hogwarts would gawk at you, his girl – they’d try to touch you, dance with you, which was his job.

You were currently dancing in the arms of your dearest date, always sneaking glances at the entrance to hopefully spot your boyfriend.

“You know, Riddle is an idiot for not taking you out in that dress. You look absolutely ravishing”, Mclaggen whispered in your ear, making goosebumps appear on your skin. You shivered in an uncomfortable way, but still managed a smirk, replying in a sultry voice,

“Oh do I now?” McLaggend tightened his grip on your waist to your disgust, but you kept playing. “Maybe Tom is missing out on more than just this simple dress. Maybe now, that you’re here, you should be the one getting the surprise hiding underneath.” You could feel how his hands squeezed tighter as his breath stocked. McLaggen grinned and just seconds before his lips could meet your scarlet red ones, he was shoved off of you with a nasty punch to his face. Some students noticed the scene, trying to ignore it as to not aggravate the attacker even more. Tom was absolutely fuming, his hatred for McLaggen burning his very being, as he stepped over him, grabbing his colour to pick him up.

“Run McLaggen. Run and hide. And pray that I won’t find you”, Tom whispered, his eyes glowing in a sick tone of red, as he watched him run off.

You smiled as you slowly stepped into Tom’s line of sight, linking your hands behind his neck. His instinctively went to your waist, instantly erasing the revolting feeling of another mans hands on you. His eyes bore into yours now.

“How dare you? Wearing such a dress for such a boy?”, he spit out, clenching his teeth.

“What else was I supposed to do to get your attention, Tommy? This dress was meant for you and even more so what’s underneath. How else am I supposed to get pleased by a man when mine won’t even look at me, because he only cares about himself”, you bit back, biting your lip.

He laughed at you, a sick fake laugh.

“You know as well as I do that I am the only one capable of giving you unbelievable pleasure. I’m the only one allowed to watch as you moan and scream for more, as I pull orgasm after orgasm from your little desperate pussy”.

“That’s what you say, Tommy”. You smiled.

And with that his temper wore out – he grabbed your wrist, surely leaving marks on it, as he dragged you into some abandoned empty classroom.  Tom shoved you up against a wall after he locked the door, kissing you passionately and ripping your dress into shreds without as much of a thought. He didn’t even glance at your fancy underwear, ripping it too, before groping your whole body in a perverted and aggressive manner, clawing and slapping every piece of you he could get. As you finally freed him of his jacket and shirt, he lowered you onto your knees, fumbling with his belt and pants to get his rock hard cock out of its confines.

“Suck”, was his only order, as he grabbed your head, shoving his penis into your waiting mouth. You did your best, his cock hitting the back of your throat hard, making you almost gag. Just as he was on the verge of spilling his seed into your mouth, he pulled you off him, manoeuvring you to stand against the wall, making you present your ass to him, which he slapped a few times - hard. Your pussy was already glistening with your arousal, making it easy for him to slip inside without a warning.

Which brings us back to where we are now.  

 “I’m yours Tom! Only yours! I’m so sorry! Please! Please make me cum again”, you nearly cried from the overwhelming feeling.

Tom laughed at your begging, enjoying how he finally broke you into a whimpering and fucked out mess. Your nails still dug into his back and he loved that small amount of pain he got from it. With one last look at your beautiful face, he couldn’t keep it anymore.

“Merlin (Y/N), my little girl!” His hips stuttered, as your walls tightened deliciously around his pulsating cock. Again he felt a wet sensation on his thighs, and he smirked for he made you squirt again. You both panted hard, the world spinning around your heads, lost in the raw feeling of skin on skin.

Tom laid down beside you on the floor, turning you so that you faced his chest, engulfing you tightly in his arms. His breathing slowly returned to normal. His hand enclosed softly around your jaw, tilting your head upwards to meet his now sparkling blue eyes. You tried to focus on him, your vision getting blurrier by second, as you fought to stay conscious. You were beyond exhausted.

“Don’t worry”, Tom smirked darkly as your eyes closed. “I’ll keep you safe.” And right after he left a light kiss on your forehead – “You are mine”.

You slipped into unconsciousness, his dark laugh echoing in your mind.

It’s a bit short, but still fucking steamy. Hope you like it,

- ingeniouscollectionthing

[light-yaers]

I prompt you say? 👀

Not a prompt, I’m basically giving you the scene I’ve been envisioning 😅

Do you remember that scene in episode 4(?) where Din is on Sorgan, and he’s sitting in the cart with Cara, and he stretches his arms out and leans back to relax?? I think there’s a million gifs of it.

But imagine Reader is with him on Sorgan, and they haven’t been crew mates for very long. There’s some feelings on both sides, but neither have said anything yet.

She’s sitting next to him, and he does The Thing (ie puts his arm around HER) and neither of them acknowledge it. HOWEVER, when they fall asleep, reader and Din are all cuddled together, Cara looking at them like 🤨 “yeah sure... *definitely* not together.”

Reader’s a bit jealous of the attention that Din and Omera give each other, but doesn’t say anything. Din and Reader share a hut, and end up cuddling together at night too.

Idk if I’m making any sense. I just love fluff mixed in with hurt/comfort. Does this work?? I know it’s not a prompt, but rather a whole ass scene, but uh?????

Well, I can certainly do something with this. I do love a bit of hurt/comfort, and we all love a bit of Din, so here we go--

He had a good instinct. You knew that well, what from the multiple skirmishes he’d got the two of you out of before. Travelling with the man was never easy-- always unpredictable, always exciting, but exceedingly anxiety inducing, despite your hard-skinned personality. 

You were used to frequenting planets that weren’t kind. The ones where the wind blew so ferociously that you often relished in the boredom of staying with the kid while he hunted yet another quarry. These planets were unforgiving, populated by people who were even more so, but Mando didn’t bat an eye. Work was work, and his Beskar was easily polishable. 

But Sorgan was different. From the moment you’d landed you’d been surrounded by lush trees, beautiful forests and kinder locals than either of you were used to. That hadn’t stopped Mando from getting into a fight not even an hour after landing, but what had resulted was something you’d never expected; his soft side finally showing its colours. 

You’d bitten down the overthinking of past experiences with the Mandalorian; the way he sometimes subconsciously wrapped his arms around you while you both slept on the cold hull of the Razor Crest. The minimal words but aching stares from beneath his helmet. The softness of his silence while he occasionally watched you looking after the kid. He’d picked you up on a dying planet, promising you safety if you could deal with his work, look after the kid and keep your mouth shut.

Despite who he was, it was impossible not to see the kindness he possessed beneath the surface, and eventually he’d warmed to you; the same way you had with him. But even those moments wavered occasionally. 

“Grab the kid,” He ushered from the clearing, stepping aboard a cart driven by some men from a nearby village; they were in danger, and they needed help. Mando had actually accepted, opting to work alongside this woman, Cara Dune, unexpectedly. You’d learned not to ask questions, but this time it had you stumped. 

“Do you really think it’s wise for us to go to a random village, with a random woman who tried to kill you twenty minutes ago?” You let out, crossing your arms in front of him. Mando turned to you slowly, staring at you beneath his helmet. 

“What makes you think you have a say in this?” He replied bluntly, but it was exactly what you’d expected in return. You raised your hands in surrender, shooting him an unamused smile. 

“Oh sorry, I forgot you don’t pay me enough to get my opinion,” 

Hey, we all had bad days. Days where the last thing you wanted to do was go into the unknown once more, feeling the worry and pressure of looking after a wanted kid, and being around a wanted man whose face you’d never seen. 

You picked up the kid finally, breathing heavily through your nose as you made your way to the cart with the others. Mando didn’t help you board, as you jumped up with the kid cradled in your arms, sitting down near the back. 

Mando strode onto the cart, dropping himself down near you, close enough for you to feel the annoyance radiating off of him in waves. Maybe it was stupid for you to have spoken up, but dank farrik, this was unlike him. It only scared you. 

It would be a few days until you reached the village, so you settled in for the long haul, cradling the kid while he snoozed adorably and ignoring the occasional stares that Mando laid upon you. Cara Dune sat to your right, idly biting her nails and blowing away the excess off the cart. Nice. 

“So, what’s your deal?” She spoke up, looking at you and then to Mando, flicking her eyes between the two of you like a tennis match. “Is she a whore?”

“Fuck you,” You spat out immediately. The kid stirred in your arms and you sent him a silent apology for disturbing. 

“Just a crew member,” Mando finally replied, not commenting upon your outburst. Whore, who the fuck did she think she was? Cara nodded to herself, curling and amused smile onto her lips. 

“Just a crew member, okay,” She let out, but dropped it soon after, knowing that she’d crossed a line before. It was a silent trip, but you were used to the quiet. Mando was a man of little words. He didn’t speak unless it was necessary to, and you chose to adopt that same style. As much as both of you knew each other now, talking wasn’t a benefit to either of you. 

As night drew in, you snuggled up with the kid while you tried to make yourself comfortable. You spread yourself out on the cart, lying on your side and facing away from the Mandalorian. It was odd how used to sleeping next to him you were-- it was just the norm-- so when he eventually laid down parallel to you, back to back, it offered you something you were used to. 

He snored, but they weren’t huge snores; they were almost dainty, filtering through the modulator on his helmet with a faint hum every few seconds and providing you with the comfort to actually fall asleep on this god forsaken cart. 

It wasn’t long until the familiar shuffles of Mando’s arms found their way to you. He rolled over in his sleep, scuffing Beskar against the cart as he turned to you and began hugging you from behind. You sleepily accepted his embrace, not thinking it was anything out of the ordinary-- because it wasn’t. 

He found you while sleeping more often than he brought back a quarry. It was something unspoken yet accepted; something that both of you indulged in, waking up wrapped in each other’s limbs the morning after and not mentioning it at all. 

But that morning, it was mentioned-- just not by either of you. 

You woke when the sun began to cut through the trees, filtering down onto the slowly moving cart and warming your skin calmly. You were aware of Mando’s arms still wrapped around you, of him breathing beneath the Beskar, still asleep-- but Cara was fucking laughing. 

You stirred awake immediately, trying to stay quiet for the sake of the kid and Mando, before glaring at her head on. 

“Just a crew member, right?” She let out, along with a few childish chuckles. “Yeah, I spoon all of my crew members at night,” 

“Do you enjoy being a grade A asshole?” You questioned stubbornly, but it only fuelled her on further. 

“I enjoy it as much as you enjoy Mando’s hugs at night, I’m sure,” 

Oh, that was it-- you were going to punch her. You made sure the kid was out of your range, before going to launch yourself at her without hesitation-- but Mando held you back before you could. 

You were halfway to her, being held back by his arms wrapped around your torso from behind. In one motion, he pushed you back to the floor, smacking you down on the wood with a thud. Cara sent him an amused smirk, trying not to blatantly laugh at your blushing cheeks. 

“Stop pissing her off,” Mando said suddenly, aimed at Cara. Cara sent him an open-mouthed stare, but it was laced with laughter. 

“Oh, come on. She’s the one that got pissed off,” 

“And you’re the one that’s picking a fight. You’re lucky I held her back, she packs a mean punch when she wants to,” 

Stars, you were trying not to blush even more at his words, but it was useless. You simply looked away, trying not to focus on Mando’s stare behind you. You picked up the kid again, slowly cradling him awake. His large eyes stared at you calmly as he cooed to you in greeting. 

Soon, you’d all make it to the village, where you could get some much needed space from Cara fucking Dune-- where you and Mando could be content with your silent cuddles at night, without the threat of needing to talk about it the morning after. 

Just like normal.

--

I might do a part two to this, when they’re in the village with Omera! Thanks for the ask, OP! 

[statticscribbles]

ReRoute: Home

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader- After following Archie, you decide to go home to confront him, fate seems to have a different idea of course

You sigh deciding it’s safest to just turn home, to get whatever lecture and promise to keep quiet Archie will give you. As you step father back towards the bridge a hand reaches out and you scream.

“Whoa! Sorry!! You ah, you shouldn’t go that way, there’s some psycho Northsider out. Sorry for scaring you.” The boy offers an apologetic smile and you smile back. “He had a gun.” You’re not sure if you’re stating it to him or not but with the grim way he nods you feel relief as you can see fear in his eyes for a second. “Exactly why you shouldn’t go that way…?” “Y/N, Pleasure.” You stick your hand out. “Sorry for scaring you, I’m Sweet Pea. You want me to walk you back home?” “I ah, I live on the Northside, I’m sure you’re not too keen to head over there at basically one am.” Sweet Pea scowls for a moment tilting his head thinking to himself.

“Well while I’m not too fond of that idea, I’m less fond of letting you wander around an area you clearly don’t know, especially when some Northsider with a gun is out.” “Thanks, you live up to your name.” “Huh?” He furrows his eyebrows as you both start walking. “You’re sweet, Sweet Pea.” You wink and he laughs. “If that was a pick-up line it was horrible.” You fake a gasp putting your hand up. “How dare you make fun of me of trying to pick up a handsome stranger at one am after watching someone waving a gun, it’s the shock talking.” You snort laughing at yourself.

“So I’ve been upgraded to handsome then?” He smirks watching you from the side of his eyes. You hope he can’t see your blush in the dark. He’s walking slowly, obviously to give both of you time to avoid Archie, you don’t think about how he’d feel about your brother being the “psycho Northsider” you keep quiet about that, and what you were doing on the Southside, instead learning Sweet pea’s favourite colour was maroon, his favourite food was ravioli and he had a small stash of comic books in a fireproof safe. In turn you told him your favourite colour, your Pop’s milkshake preference and about the time your brother almost failed second grade cause he couldn’t read. Sweet pea howls with laughter and you hush him to be quiet as he doubles over where he’s standing.

“How is your brother that much of an idiot that he didn’t know how to read, even I did and-“ “Guessin’ he’s the same idiot that decided to wait by the bridge in case someone decided to cross. Y/N, get over here now. Southside Serpent’s are dangerous.” Archie glares from the pillar he’s leaning against. “Say the one who snuck out to go vandalize a shop and waved a gun, a freaking gun in some guys faces! Dad’s going to kill you.” You snap at him and he steps forward. You flinch back unsure if he actually has the gun. Sweet Pea steps in front of you and Archie sneers.

“You really want to get between me and my sister?” Sweet Pea’s face doesn’t change from the glare. “I do when you’re the threat.” Archie scoffs shoving Sweet Pea to the side and pulling your arm towards home. “Come on, it’s too late to be out and you tangling yourself up with snakes isn’t how I thought this night was going to end.” You tug away from him and scowl. “I’m not going back with you, not when you have a gun. A gun, did dad getting shot mean nothing to you?” You glare and he looks hurt for a moment. “Y/N..” He trails off sighing. “I’ll see you at home.” He sulks off and you turn nervously to Sweet Pea.

“Well that’s new information.” Sweet Pea speaks after a moment. “I’m really sorry I totally understand if you don’t-“ You frown at his outstretched hand. “Your phone, so I can put my number in it? If we’re going to end up as Romeo and Juliet, might as well start with a date right?” You laugh as he motions with his hand for you to hurry up. “I’d rather not find you dead though.” Sweet Pea smiles. “Well if we start with a date you won’t you’ll know where I am the entire time. Besides Pop’s is open and I’ve never had one of their shakes.” You narrow your eyes at him before gripping his hand and tugging him along. “You poor deprived man. You poor thing missing out on heaven on earth.” Sweet pea laughs letting you drag him over to the Northside.

You tuck yourself into a booth as far back and away from he window as you can get, Sweet Pea wisely takes his jacket off before he orders. “Get whatever you want, on me. We’ve both had a lot of trauma tonight, you, finding out your prick of a brother has a gun, me finding out you have a prick of a brother.” He jokes in an effort to make you smile. He tilts his head, your gaze not straying from the entrance way. “You waiting for him to show up?” You snap your head back. “Oh, um, no, my dad, he got shot here. I was at home.” Sweet Pea’s face crumbles slightly.” “Was it a bad choice to come here then?” You shake your head as the waitress puts down your order. You eat in silence for a moment before he picks conversation back up, asking about school and your dreams. You respond and ask his, which he answers both questions with a shrug. “Never gave it much though, always figured I’d be dead pretty young.” “Oh you will be, snake.” Your eyes widen as Reggie Mantle walks up, hand gripping Sweet Pea’s shoulder as he half drags him from the booth.

“Reggie, back off!” You snap at him and he rolls his eyes. “Listen Y/N I don’t know what this snake threatened you with, but you’re safe, he won’t hurt you.” “He didn’t do anything we came here together!” You hiss and Reggie pauses eyebrows furrowing. “You did? Archie said the serpent basically took you hostage? He was walking you back since you snuck out to go on his patrol route and-“ You roll your eyes. “Did he leave out the part where he has a gun now?” You mumble under your breath and Reggie scowls. “Listen Y/N it’s no good for someone like you to be with him. You need to come back with me, so I can take you home. Archie says-” You watch Sweet Pea suck in a breath.

“She’s old enough to maker he own choices!” He snaps and Reggie’s glare sinks back on his face, he laughs shaking his head. “That has nothing to do with the fact she’s wrong. You’re a snake, a Southside drug dealing gang member. What can you give her besides black eyes and addiction.” Reggie snaps and you shove past both him and Sweet Pea, stepping into the parking lot. Reggie’s out the door following you, you watch him shove Sweet Pea back into the booth. “Hey! Y/N where you going?” “Home, I’m making my own choice. Stay out of it Reggie!” You scowl wiping tears from your face as you pull your phone out, looking down to find you have a text.

-Sorry Juliet guess Tybalt won this round- You smile, Reggie huffs but leaves, no doubt reporting back to Archie where you are. You turn back to Pop’s to watch Sweet Pea moving through the diner, he stops talking to Pop Tate brushing the back of his hair, nodding at whatever Pop says before leaving the diner. He rushes over towards you looking nervously around before sighing and ducking his head to kiss you. “See you Juliet.” He winks laughing.

You text him when you get home, apologizing for your brother and his shitty friends. He reads it two minutes later. You can’t bring yourself to delete his number even after four days of silence. You shoot him another text, as last effort to make contact. -Thy lips are warm.- You groan as it shows he’s read it. It was a stupid cheesy thing to send and you’re already letting yourself swallowed up by regret when your phone chimes. You stare at the picture Sweet Pea sent, two shakes sitting on the counter at Pop’s. You send back a question mark and he sends you another picture of one of the shakes, the whipped cream dripping down the sides -It’s melting, save me D: - You roll your eyes leaving him on read, deciding to see how he likes it.

Support My Writing?

[n6or]

the colours of our youth | raihan nsfw

Rating: General

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions

Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Reader

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Childhood Friends, Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Words: 4042

READ HERE ON AO3!

From an early age you had both been rather infatuated with one another, your parents cooing constantly over how sweet it was that you always held Raihan's hand or that he always chased away the birds you were so frightful of. From an early age, Raihan had always been keenly aware of his position in your life, knowing from the sweet age of five that he was destined to protect you from anything and everything;

One day, we'll get married! Is what he told you, grinning wide and exposing his little fang. You remember that day well, even know; many things you've forgotten with age, but that day wasn't one of them. We'll get married and we're gonna live happily ever after like those people in all those stories you read to me!

The days were so bright back then, coloured with warm saturations of yellow and orange, not a hint of anxiety or worry about—at least none that either of you were aware of. As childhood best friends, you were inseparable, but as the years began collapsing upon one another and age ripened the pair of you, things became complicated.

The promise of marriage seemed to blur into the stress of social cliques and the harsh realities and brutalities that was high school.

At first, every day was spent with one another: eating lunch, playing on the field, laying under an old oak tree up the back of campus… but slowly, as you both met new people, the gap between you both began growing wider and wider until the only time you ever saw each other was the mandatory gym classes on a Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

You hated gym more than anything. It was one class you wished you could never show up to, but of course that idea deflated on its own when the teachers realised your recurring "nausea" was just a feeble attempt of evading the judgemental gazes of hormonal teenage boys.

By the age of fifteen, most girls in your grade had presented; a vast array of secondary genders littered your classes nowadays: alphas, omegas, betas, but of course you were yet to present. You didn't mind, though. Watching the stress of your classmates over the years (as you entered senior classes) trying to juggle their studies with their heats and ruts made you more than grateful that you hadn't presented yet.

Raihan presented proudly at the ripe age of sixteen, texting you (for the first time in weeks) about the update. Of course he presented as an alpha. At sixteen with the height of six foot, you wouldn't expect anything else. You sent him back a congratulatory text followed by a little kaomoji that he then teased you for.

You fell asleep with a smile that night, and Raihan fell asleep laughing after realising you had fallen asleep mid-conversation, but hey… slowly, the bridge between you both began to shift; slowly, the distance between you both was reducing.

It was in the eleventh grade when you realised something wasn't right.

Four years later and you still hated the gym, but were more willing to participate. Four years later and you still shared the same gym class as Raihan.

Over the years you have made two close friends that have stuck by your side through the absence of Raihan; Nessa and Sonia. Nessa presented as an Alpha female, and Sonia - much like you - was yet to present. Nonetheless, the three of you got along like a house on fire, having a group chat and weekly sleepovers, too.

As the three of you mozey into the gym, you feel uncomfortable. You halt momentarily, glancing around the gym when you notice a familiar group of notorious alpha's in the back corner, undressing you with their eyes. Over the year you had failed to notice the change in your pubescent body, but the other boys in your class hadn't. Time and time again your name was whispered amongst certain alphas, and time and time again a certain someone had threatened to shut them up if they didn't stop.

"Heya short-cake," You hear a familiar voice call, strong arms tugging you back by your waist. Raihan curls into your back, blowing a raspberry on your cheek.

You squeal, earning a laugh from all three of your friends as you turn around and shove the alpha off. You pout up at your best friend who merely grins a lazy grin, shrugging.

"Oopsy~ oh, by the way," He's shrugging his jacket off as he speaks, carefully draping it over your shoulders. "Don't worry about those dickwads. They'd fuck a piece of salami if they got the chance."

"Did you just compare me to salami?"

Raihan smirks. "Nah. You're waaaay spicier~"  

The punch to his gut makes him laugh louder as he tries to zip up the jacket. You miss the way he looks at you when you look away; cheeks red and puffed, arms folded over your chest, his jacket falling mid-way down your thighs; it acts almost like a dress considering your height differences.  

The lesson rolls past slowly and by the end of your mock volleyball match you had tied Raihan's jacket around your waist. Volleyball is fun; you mainly act as the libero (considering your stature), but you enjoy it, nonetheless—especially when you were on the opposing team to Nessa. You're both so competitive it fires everybody else up.

As the students file out of the gym, you offer your hand in packing up the nets and cones that decorate the court. You were just bending over to retrieve the last cone when you felt a sharp smack against your rear.

With a sharp yelp, you spin around and stumble back slightly at alpha that stands before you. Your breath hitches when he takes a step forward towards you, two sniggering alphas on the other side of the gym catching your eye.

"You've gotten real hot lately, pet." The alpha hums, continuing to back you up until your back meets the chill of the bricked wall. "What's with that? Y'still haven't presented yet? I can't smell nothin' comin' from ya but that stinkin' jacket." With a sharp tug, he rips the jacket from your waist.

"Oi!" You shout, shoving at his chest. "Give that back!" You grab his wrist in one hand whilst the other takes a fistful of the jacket. You notice the other two alphas beginning to approach and it's at a time like this that you can't help but wonder where the fuck the teacher's are.

"Don't speak to me like that, bitch!" He laughs venomously, realing his free hand back. Your eyes widen momentarily when you realise that he's about to hit you. Your body stiffens, and like a deer in headlights, you braces for impact.

Crack!

"Ugh, what the fuck?!"

You tremble in place. It all happened so fast. One moment the alpha was plunging his fist forward, and then suddenly he was spiraling to the ground, blood seeping from his nose.

"What the fuck is right. What the fuck did you just call her?" Raihan grabs the boy by the collar and yanks him back to his feet, shoving him away.

"R-Rai…" You call, cursing the shake in your voice. You hold the torn jacket in your hands, feeling something inside you tearing as well.

"Why do you fucking care? It's not like she's your mut y'fuckin—"

Another disgusting crunch of skin colliding with cartilage echoes the gym.

"Are you dumb? Are you seriously that thick?!"

Again, Raihan grabs the boy's collar, but suddenly his body stiffens, stopping him dead in his tracks.

You stare at the now tattered jacket in your hands and bite back your lower lip. You don't know when you started crying, but suddenly you can't stop. It's all a haze to you, in all honesty. You remember Raihan cupping your cheeks, large hands smoothing back your hair as he talks to you. You don't know where your mind is, or why Raihan suddenly sounds like Isabella from Animal Crossing, but it's not long before your eyes are fluttering back open. When had they fallen shut? Had you collapsed? Where were you?

A small groan erupts from you when you slowly revive from your unconsciousness, head feeling swollen and stuffed with tissue paper. You feel a squeeze to your hand and suddenly a familiar brown beauty comes into your line of sight, breathing out a sigh of relief and then your name once he sees you.

"What happened?" You mumble quietly. "Where am I? Are you—Oh, Rai," you frown, shaky hands tracing the cut across his eyebrow.

"You're alright, I'm alright," is the first thing he whispers. He runs his free hand through your hair, smiling, but it wasn't as bright as usual. "The doctors said you got too stressed and triggered a, uh.. erm, a heat."

You blink a few times, frowning. "Heat? But that can't be possible? I haven't… I'm not a…"

"The doctors explained that, basically, the stress triggered the presentation and, uh, kinda… Y'know i'm not good at explaining," he whines. He notices the perplexed expression that colours your face and bites his lip. "I'm really sorry…"

"Huh?"

You catch his gaze, noticing the sadness that swims in the cyan circles.

"I acted like a real meathead and basically put you here because I stressed you out…" His gaze falls as he plays with your fingers. You notice the way he frowns and glares and then sighs. "I just… seeing the way he was with you… i seriously—i was seriously gonna kill him. I don't know what's wrong with me… I know you can look after yourself, but seeing those pricks… and the way they look at you like you're some sort of—like you're a piece of meat!" Raihan drops his head on your bed. "I'm so sorry…"

Your heart twists in your chest at the sight, not liking how sad Raihan looks. You reach up, ignoring the dizziness that plagues you, and run your fingers through his hair.

"You saved me," you whisper almost laboriously. Heat travels from your face down your neck, red splotching your skin like a fever, sweat lining your brow. "I'm glad you gave that shithead what he deserves, because I tried to and…" You notice how Raihan's shoulders stiffen again, just like how they did in the gym. "Rai? Are… you okay?"

The tips of his ears are red. You're sure of it. Is he coming down with a fever? What if you weren't actually an Omega and this was just some really bad flu?

"...good."

You frown. "Huh?"

Raihan clears his throat. "Said you smell good."

You continue to lazily play with his hair, frowning. Why wouldn't he look at you? Something inside you aches strangely; you don't know what it is, but it has made you want to cry. You need Raihan. You don't know how you need him, but you need him.

"Rai…" Your voice is tiny when it leaves your lips, soft and needy, you feel Raihan shiver beneath your fingertips. "Can… I have a hug? I dunno what's goin' on and I'm sorry to ask because I know it's probably inappropriate and-"

Your rambling is cut off once the alpha slides in under the covers beside you. Strong arms encircle your waist, holding your heated body flush against your own. A wave of relief washes over you once your nose naturally finds its way up into the crook of Raihan's neck, nestling against the scent gland.

He holds you so tight. You feel so safe, so secure, like you're being bathed in both his scent and security. He smells so warm and tender, like crackling wood during a winter fire, comforting and caressing your senses beautifully.  

He whispers your name, lips resting against the shell of your ear. "I'll stay with you, okay? I won't hurt you. I promise. You won't be alone through this…"

And alone you weren't. With the permission of your parents, Raihan was allowed to stay as a comfort for you during your very first and (very torturous) heat. The nights were spent clinging desperately to your best friend, whimpering softly into his ear, enjoying the way he squeezed your hips, the way he responded to your quiet calls with a low grumble of his own.

You didn't have sex that night, but you did share a tender part of your life together. Upon your quiet plead, Raihan's lips had found yours and satiated the desire that coursed through your veins. The kiss was slow and passionate and everything you could ever had imagined it to be. His lips were slow and supple and soft and even in your hazy state you knew they were addictive.

Raihan ended up shedding a few layers and coaxing you into his chest, surrounding you with his clothes in an attempt to appease your agony. It was a long and painful three days, but Raihan never left your side (unless it was to get you food or drink, of course).

During those three days, you became his girlfriend.

And four years later, he proposed.

Now it's winter. You're twenty one and currently dozing in the arms of your lover. Fingertips gingerly map his chocolate chest, tracing over every crease and every crevice of his muscles. He was sleeping now, lightly, of course, but the first two rounds had seemed to tire him out. There's a deep ache in your hips, but you don't mind. You'd take the pain any day if it meant caring for your alpha like this.

Your hands smooth back his tousled hair, sweat greasing the darker strands. You laugh to yourself quietly, leaning up to kiss along his hot cheek. Stirring, Raihan grumbles tiredly, rolling over so he pushes you flat onto your back and nuzzles his face into the swells of your breasts.

"Tch," you mutter as he lays atop your tinier frame. "So needy. What a hopeless alpha."

"Mmm…"

His lips drag against your right breast, the caress of his rougher lips have your back arching up off the mattress. You take a fistful of his hair, tugging it, enjoying the low growl that emits from your lover. One hand, large and tender, runs up your naked thigh, gripping the softness.

A sweet gush of slick wets your folds as his tongue rolls against your erected nipple. The way he sucks at you makes your eyes roll shut, a loud gasp being torn from you once the pad of his thumb presses against your twitching clit. Your hips press down against him when he begins drawing figure eights against your core, a familiar heat igniting in your belly.

"Rai…" You sigh, delighted.

The alpha slowly rolls you onto your stomach and props your hips up.

"Touch yourself," he all but grunts as he pulls away. You look over your shoulder at him, eyes slightly wider now.

"W-What?" The heat recedes to your now burning ears.

Raihan leans back on his knees, dick standing high and proud against his abdomen. A lazy smirk appears as he takes a fistful of your ass, digging his well-kept nails into the supple sphere.

"Touch yourself," he growls again. "And then i'll give you my cock."

A needy whine leaves you at the rougher treatment, the pleasure going straight to your core. Your head drops back onto the pillow, hot cheek pressed to the softness as you sheepishly reach between your thighs.

"Rai…" You find yourself whimpering as your fingers gingerly trace at the swelling of your clit. Your hips tremble, breath stuttering in your chest. You shyly watch over your shoulder, noticing just how hard those cyan orbs watch your fingers. It's always flattering just how enamoured Raihan is with you; even like this you're the centre of his attention.

You bite your lip, watching the tall man pant from behind you as your fingers explore the depths of your pleasure. You begin rocking your hips, fingers slowly inching back to sink into your sopping pussy. That's when you hear the low groan of your alpha. He really seems to be getting off on watching you play with yourself.

"Look, Alpha," you mumble, removing your fingers from your stretched hole; a line of slick joins your fingertips to your entrance. "So wet… All for you…"

You can tell he's barely holding onto his sanity; but truth be told, so are you. Over the years you've learned to quiet the voice of your biology, but sometimes you can't help to succumb to your inner omega and beg to be fucked until you're crying.

You reach behind with your free hand and pull one cheek apart, exposing your puckered rim. Your fingertips teasingly circle your upper hole, eyes focused on the way Raihan's widen. That seems to be the last straw for the alpha.

In a flurry of movements he has your wrists bound tightly above your head and tied to the headboard, his mouth absolutely ravishing your dripping sex. You're a writhing wreck once his tongue pries inside of you, relentlessly ravishing the sweet slick that pours from your throbbing entrance. You throw your head back, gasping loudly when his tongue licks at your ass, teasing the puckered rim with a smirk.

"G-Gah! N-No, Rai—Rai that's—oh fuck." You tighten your grip on the binds around your wrists, mewling loudly when his tongue pries your ass open. Your hips tremble. "S-So dirty… Y-You're so- ha~ so gross…"

A dark chuckle reverberates off each wall of the room. The wet appendage pushes deep inside you, curling and flicking as his teeth nibble at the sensitive muscles.

"You say it's gross, tell me to stop," he chuckles as he pulls back. He shuffles behind you, hands trapping your squirming hips that try to find some sort of friction. Slowly, with one hand on his cock, he drags the swollen head up along your folds. "But look how wet my precious little Omega is~ You really don't want it, baby? You really don't want me to fuck you again? Fill you with my pups and breed you like the beautiful little whore you are~?"

Your head has fallen back onto the pillow, tears now streaking your hot cheeks. "Please…" You choke out, pitifully.

Raihan lolls his head to the side, smirking down at you. "Look at me," His voice is so low when he speaks, the tinge of Alpha that colours his words awakening something inside of you. "Look at me when you beg for my dick."  

And you obey instantaneously. Looking over at him, your expression is wrecked; eyes teary, face wet, lips bleeding from how hard you had bit them.

"Please, Alpha. Please fuck me. Please fill me with all you have. I want to feel you inside of me-"

Your words die in your throat when the thick, girthy cock plunges deep inside you with one swift thrust. It's so sudden that all that leaves you is a strangled cry. Considering the past two rounds you have gone through today, your body accommodates the intrusion gladly, your self-lubricated walls hugging his cock snuggly.

"Fuck, baby…" he growls, head dropping onto your shoulder. "Even now, your body keeps suckin' me in. You really are my nasty little whore, huh?"

"Yes!" You choke, wriggling your hips. "Yes, yes, please don't stop."

And he doesn't. It's not long before a nice pace is set up, hips retracting before pushing deep inside you until your filled to the hilt with cock. Raihan's head falls back as he relishes in the warmth your pussy provides, sighing with nothing but absolute bliss.

"You feel so good on my dick like this. You're so small, but you take it so good," Raihan gives a harder thrust that makes you yelp before he's pushing you onto your side and opening your legs. He smirks when your eyes meet, one hand going back to caress the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath your folds once more. Your body jolts and, as Raihan picks up the pace, soon your voice becomes louder, moans toppling effortlessly from your lips. "I wanna watch you cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl, yeah? Let alpha make you feel real fucking nice."

The first orgasm has you crying out his name loudly. Your body rocks through the violent convulsions that follow suit, body tingling and hips twitching to rock back and forth. Raihan is absolutely mesmerised by the way your body struggles; he always enjoys watching you struggle the most. He enjoys watching your face flush and your back arch and your muscles tighten as you ride out the pleasure that waltzes with you.

"Rai-- Rai, fuck!"

You try to pull away when his hand quickens against your front, rubbing you without mercy through your first orgasm. Truth be told, you love this treatment; deep down you love when Raihan uses you like this, you love when he fucks you like he's going to break you.

"No one can make you come undone like this," he sneers, lightly slapping your thigh before moving his hand. Reaching up, still entirely sheathed inside of you, he rips the binds from your wrists, carelessly discarding the now shredded rope to the bedroom floor. "Now, how badly do you want my knot, Princess~?"

"Please-" You squeak instantaneously, eliciting a loud bark of laughter from your fiance. You flush. "P-Please."

Leaning over your smaller frame, Raihan presses a chaste kiss to your lips before pushing you entirely onto your back. He helps you wrap your legs around his waist, reeling his hips back before plunging them forward. The rhythm he sets up is slow at first, his lips moving knowingly against yours. Again, you're already panting, head becoming gradually foggy.

The scene plays through, the echo of sloppy kisses and obscenity of skin slapping against skin. Your souls slowly become one as your bodies press flush against one another.

Raihan gradually loses himself, holding your hips tighter, digging his nails into your skin and decorating you with red crescent moons. His lips leave yours and eventually find your neck, growling as he sucks and bites a constellation of red down your expanse.

The pain makes it all the while better, and when Raihan angles your hips up so he can begin drilling his cock deeper, you find yourself coming undone yet again, totally unannounced. You cling desperately to your fiance, clawing at his back, leaving your own artwork behind. It's not long before Raihan follows suit, hips snapping harder along to a silent three-four rhythm. The expansion of his knot knocks the air from your lungs once he sheaths himself inside you. Your eyes roll back and your back arches back up off the mattress for the umpteenth time.

A loud, low growl leaves Raihan when you clench around his growing knot. Then, he's moaning shamelessly into your ear once his own coils of cum spill inside of you. He holds your hips tighter, biting into the scarred mark that adorns your neck.

The small yelp that leaves you results in Raihan lapping the skin with his tongue, collecting any spillage of blood that may so soil your neck.

"Such a good girl," he purrs into your ear, voice low and thick, dripping with an amalgamation of adoration and desire. "I love you so much. I seriously love you so much," His lips trail along your jaw and to yours, hands moving to hover either side of your face. He kisses you gently before awkwardly rolling you both over. The position shift makes you whimper, discontent with the movement of his knot. Considering you'll be locked together for a while, Raihan helps you lay on his chest, pulling the blankets up over your back. "I can't wait to marry you," he murmurs quietly, large hand caressing your lower back. He smiles when you look up, tired. "Seriously. I can't wait to marry you and start a family with you, (name)."

Your burning face hides away in Raihan's chest and you feel the rumble of laughter shake him.

It still blew your mind that one day you were going to marry this man.

Oh, how lovely fate had been to you during this lifetime.

[pizzagrlmeetsboy1980]

This is a little treat for @rock-and-roll-and-rats

xD

I was thinking about what a slightly twisted but still somehow wholesome B’Stard family home would look like so I did the unthinkable.

Fan children.

Read more for wholesome cringe.

All children have varying shades of blonde hair . Oliver is the only one with curls. Connie is the only one that doesn’t have Alan’s blue eyes.

17 Oliver- only son, eldest. Aloof, under lots of pressure to be an MP one day. Is usually studying.

16 Marie- Eldest daughter. Very intelligent , witty and attracts a lot of attention from boys at school. Looks the most like Sarah.

13 Constance “Connie”- Middle daughter. Is always competing with Marie. Is usually in trouble for something. The one most likely to back sass her parents.

7 Grace- Grace youngest child and daughter. Very sneaky. Also incredibly intelligent for a 7 year old. Has committed credit card fraud AND gotten away with it. Has the most wholesome relationship with her father.

Sarah: Grace...why do you have Connie’s purse?

Grace: It was in her school bag. I took it cause I liked it.

Alan: *laughs, pulling his youngest child into his lap* Darling, stealing and petty theft aren’t things that you need to be doing. That’s what poor people do. Unless it’s something that money can’t buy..like..

Grace: Trust or a false sense of security?

Alan: *beeps her nose* Exactly.

Sarah: Hold on...Grace did you put this make up in Connie’s bag?

Grace: Heavens no. I would never pick such trampy colours.

Alan: *laughs again*

Sarah: We will discuss where you heard that word later..As if I didn’t know already. *glares at Alan* I think I need to go have a chat with Connie...

-Sarah knocks on Connie’s door-

Connie: Come in..

Sarah: Hello, Darling...

Connie: Oh. Hi mum. How are you?

Sarah: Oh, I’m doing very well. Grace found something interesting in your purse.

Connie: Mum, you’ve got to tell her to stop going through my things. It’s an invasion of privacy!

Sarah:...Constance...do you know what’s in here?

Connie:...It’s make up.

Sarah: You know the rule in this house is no makeup until you are 16...

Connie: 16?!

Sarah: Connie, you -knew- that. You’re a terrible liar.

Connie: *looking away and turning her nose up* Well you never said it to -me!-

Sarah: FINE. I’m saying it to you -now-...No makeup until you’re 16. You just want to wear it so you’ll look older, now why on earth do you want to grow up so quickly?

Connie: I am not! I’m 14 years old! I’m practically a woman!

Sarah: You are a -child-.

Connie: I’m a young woman!

Sarah: You are an -old- child.

...

Alan: Good morning, Offspring.

All: Good morning, Father.

Marie:..Daddy. You know how I’m always making you so proud by getting perfect grades, breaking boy’s hearts into a million pieces and slowly but surely building up the Young Conservative’s club-

Alan: -reading the paper- What do you want, Marie?

Marie: Well I’ve just been so busy I had forgotten to get your signature on this silly little permission slip..

Sarah: -brings Alan a cup of coffee- And what pray-tell is this silly little permission slip for?

Marie: The debate team is going to Amsterdam for the European championship.

Alan:..A beautiful 16 year old girl, Daughter of the former Lord Protector now Senior Cabinet Member in a lefty, filthy place like Amsterdam? Absolutely not.

Marie: Why not?!

Alan: I believe I just explained that point. Good thing you’re not going you’re terrible at debating.

Connie: She wouldn’t even be mediocre at the meet, she’d be too busy looking at...Jeremy~.

Alan: *folds his paper down abruptly* Jeremy?

Sarah: *chuckling, sipping her coffee*

Oliver: *does the same, clinking cups with his mother*

Marie:...He’s the captain, Daddy. He’s so cultured. He wanted to show me all the sights and ...walk through the tulips together...

Alan:...*makes a disgusted face* How old is this “Jeremy” chap?

Connie: He’s in 12th grade..

Marie: I’m going to kill you if you don’t shut your mouth!

Sarah: *to Grace* Ooh. Dating above one’s station and a death threat. A typical B’Stard family morning.

Grace: *whispering* I don’t see what the fuss is all about. I hate boys.

Sarah: *whispering back*Don’t say that loud enough for your father to hear. He’ll hold you to that.

Alan: Oh well, that’s makes things easier then. You absolutely aren’t going and if I catch you around that “boy”. You’ll be under house arrest until menopause, understood? *curling his upper-lip in contempt-

Marie: *defeatedly* Yes, Daddy. *kisses his cheek before getting up*

Sarah: It’s almost a quarter till. Girls, Your cab will be here any minute. Oliver. We need you to take the Aston today.

Oliver: Of course, Mother. Everything okay?

Alan: We’re entertaining this afternoon and we need the Bentley to rub it in Newt Gingrich’s American face that we’re better than him.

Oliver: Hopefully he’ll fit in it And it won’t scrape the ground.

Sarah: *giggles and kisses Oliver’s cheek* You have your father’s wit. Have a wonderful day darling..

Alan: Oliver. *motions his son to down to him* If you see that Jeremy-prick near your sister. You have my permission to blackmail him.

Oliver: Consider it done, Father.

Alan: That’s a good lad. Carry on then.

*Sarah counting the sets of steps going down the stairs to the front door*

Sarah: ...One..two..three...and four...that’s all of them.

Alan: They are worrisome...but..I think they’ll turn out alright..*holds Sarah from behind*

Sarah:..I think so...But if you give me anymore I will castrate you.

[greenygreenland]

If I Were You: Fives x Reader Pt 2

-pt two. Here’s part 1

Summary: It’s been half a month since Fives first appeared in your room. He’s settled into your home because he knows there’s no way of getting home. Everything is peaceful, and you find comfort in each other. Your parents come home today, and you have to find out a way to hide him from them Warnings: Borderline abuse (very brief), mentions of abuse/violence, pressure from school, COVID-19 mentions, swearing

“--and then I slug him in the jaw and he’s so shocked that he can’t move!” You shake your head as Fives continues reminiscing about a short run-in with some ‘Separatist scum’. You can’t say it’s not entertaining when you yourself absolutely despise the Seps for what they’ve done during the Clone Wars. The guy definitely deserved it. Fives continues on for a while, telling his favourite stories about the 501st as he sips on the juice you’d given him earlier.

You eventually decide to move to the living room, where it’s much more comfortable than the kitchen. Picking up the remote and flopping down on the couch, you turn on the TV.

It’s still mesmerizing to Fives. He’s seen you scroll through Disney Plus, Netflix, and Hulu so many times, yet he can’t get over the amount of shows available. Sure, there was the holonet back at home, but that couldn’t ever compare to the media here. Everything was in colour, and it wasn’t as bulky as a holoprojector. 

Suddenly, you pause, hovering over the show Star Wars the Clone Wars. It’s written in giant blocky letters in yellow, so it catches Fives’s eye rather quickly. “Is that the show I’m in?” he lightly inquires. There’s a cold sensation in his gut, but he ignores it. You nod, mindlessly clicking on it. “I grew up with this show. It’s taught me more about life than anything else, really. When I was in a pretty bad place it helped me pull through.” 

There’s a soft smile on your face that Fives admires more than anything in the galaxy. It’s like an invisible warm hug, and it engulfs him in an overwhelming amount of happiness. A loud fanfare of...something (he’s never really known any instruments) bombards his ears, and he’s turning to the screen so fast that he could have given himself whiplash. 

Admiral Yularen’s voice fills the quiet space. He has to restrain himself from straightening up because it’s just a show. But that’s when something happens. He catches sight of himself on screen, saluting to his Captain and General. The screen freeze for a second, and it ripples like a hologram. The image of himself disappears, and then the TV goes static, flashing in a mixture of blues, grays, blacks, and greens. 

“This can’t be good.” he says, mostly to himself. You glare at the screen, randomly pushing the buttons on the remote as if it’d fix everything. It doesn’t and you know this, but you continue anyway as Fives’s gaze darts from you to the TV. A short sigh escapes your lips. “My parents are going to--” 

You freeze, cutting yourself off as a familiar rumble catches your ear. Fives hops to his feet as you drop the remote, silently making his way to the window just above the driveway. You follow him as he takes a peek behind the curtains. It’s silent for a moment and you know you hadn’t been mistaken. 

“(Y/n), are these your parents?”

“Dank ferrick.” 

Fives looks surprised at your colourful answer before smirking to himself. That’s soon wiped off his face as the front door knob begins to jiggle. You both lock gazes, eyes wide in terror. “You have to hide!” You turn off the TV and frantically knot your hand in his. And suddenly, you’re practically flying up the stairs with Fives in tow. You didn’t even know you could run that fast, but maybe that was because you knew your ‘fight or flight’ had been activated. 

You throw open the door to your room and slam it behind as the front door opens. Fives is scurrying into the closet as you scramble to stuff whatever evidence of his existence into his arms. He tosses his sweaters, trousers, and shirts (you bought with your own money) as deep into your closet as he can. You flick off the lights and open your curtains wide. 

Fives shuts the closet door. You whip out your laptop and a few notes from your physics class, neatly spreading them on your desk along with a few highlighters and pens. 

“(Y/n)!”

That’s your mum. She sounds almost glad to see you. 

“(Y/n), come downstairs will you?” 

You turn on your laptop, flipping to Google Classroom as if your life depended on it--and it certainly did. Once it’s open, you stand from your desk and walk downstairs, putting on the brightest smile you can. “Hi mum!” you call. She smiles at you, covering up a cough as she removes her shoes. “I’m sorry we’ve been gone for so long. Your father’s been busy, and I couldn’t leave him in Chicago all by himself. You know how it can get there.”

The smile is wearing on your face and you know it. Your mum is a kind person, she’s always been, but because of that, she tries to hide her sickness from you. She’s been sick for a while, but she wouldn’t tell you why. Of course, that didn’t stop your father from telling you. He said it was cancer, but your mum replied with, ‘It’s the common cold’ instead. 

Speaking of your father, he emerged from the door. You didn’t need to look at him to know he wasn’t too happy. “Hi...dad.” you quietly say. Your mum puts a hand on your shoulder and that seems to bother him. “What are you doing down here? Go study. You’re not going to be a doctor if you aren’t persistent.” You frown in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to go to MIT--”

“You’d be more useful as a doctor than a mindless computer addict. Maybe if you had skipped a few grades, then you could have found a cure already.” You wanted to be offended, but a voice inside your head made you keep your cool. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if you fought fire with fire anyway. 

There is no emotion, there is peace, you think to yourself with a sigh. Your mum notices, and she gives your shoulder a good squeeze before beckoning you upstairs. You turn to her as she tensely smiles and comply, quietly going up the stairs. You hear someone flop down on the couch, probably your father, and ice shoots up your veins. 

Panic blinds you as you race up the last few steps and dart into your room like you were being chased by a lightsaber. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know what happened. You hear him shout your name and you lock the door behind you. Fives slowly opens the closet door. You can feel his worry as he frowns, and you can’t blame him. Your father sounds beyond angry. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought someone had robbed him. 

“(Y/N)!”

You visibly flinch and Fives decides it’s high time he comes out of hiding. He’s suddenly by your side, locking your hand in his. “You’re shaking.” You look down at your hand weaved between Fives’s fingers with a mindless shrug. “I’m,” your voice wobbles, “fine. It’s going to be fine. It’s--it’s fine. It’s fine.” 

“They’re not going to do anything to you, right?” Fives inquires. You meet his gaze with teary eyes. No words come out of your mouth, but he doesn’t need any to know what you’re thinking. 

The door rattles. You flinch at the shout from the other side, instinctively taking a step back as if it’d help you. “Fives, Fives...” You’re looking at him again, silently pleading for the help you didn’t even know you needed. You had always been alone. Always. No one had been by your side until Fives came along, and it’s then that you begin to realise how bad your situation is. 

He gives your hand a comforting squeeze that makes your knees go weak. “They can’t hurt you.” His tone is firm yet gentle. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” He makes his way to the door. It’s still rattling as he unlocks it, and then it bursts open as your father shouts again. The last time Fives had seen someone this angry was when the General had gone on that Zyggerian mission. The mere mention of the word ‘slave’ had sent the Jedi into an inferno anger that no one could calm. 

But this puny simpleton? 

His anger wasn’t as terrifying as his General’s. Fives couldn’t feel a single ounce of fear as he stared the taller man down. He looked about ready to murder Fives, but that wasn’t the least of his concerns. The man jabs a finger at his chest and Fives has to resist smacking it away. “So not only has my sad excuse of a daughter broken the TV, but also smuggled in a goddamn boy while we were gone!” 

You watch as your father raises his arm, recoiling to ready a punch. Your eyes widen, and you almost have the nerve to feel bad for him. It was never a smart idea to pick a fight with an ARC trooper--much less a soldier like Fives. 

Your father growls, “I’ll kill you both!”

It all happens too fast. Your father throws a punch, Fives catches it, and then it goes deathly quiet. He’s seething as your father trembles in his dark glare. “If this is how a family functions, I’m glad I only have my brothers.” The temperature seems to drop ten degrees with each word he stresses. “It doesn’t matter what happens, no one, and I mean no one should be treated like this. It’s downright abuse. I won’t stand for something so kriffing wrong.” 

This is a side of Fives you know but haven’t witnessed off-screen. He had been like this with Krell, and even though the situations varies from Umbara, his emotions aren’t any different. “Sure, the TV’s broken, but you haven’t even heard why it happened! What kind of father goes around and threatening to kill his own daughter?” 

Your father tries to storm past Fives, but he only tightens his grip on your father’s wrist. “Don’t try it.” 

Your father tries anyway. He whips out a knife--a knife-- and aims for Fives’s neck. Of course, Fives is quick--quicker than the shows give him justice. He dodges, swiping a leg under your father before pinning him down under his knee. The knife falls from your father’s hand and Fives is pulling both his arms behind his back. It’s not enough to hurt him, but it sure does scare him. “Let me go you fucking psycho! You’re gonna pay!” 

Fives looks like he wants to say anything, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s so baffled by your family dynamics. He hadn’t known any brothers who would do that, and he was glad too. “Oh I’m ‘gonna pay’? I think you’ll have fun taking that to the authorities. What number are you supposed to dial in these situations?” he inquires. 

“Let you go you goddamn--!”

“911.” you quietly answer. “But are you sure?” Fives nods and glances at your phone. You snatch it off the table, tapping the emergency call button and dialling the number. 

-------

Your mother stares at the police car as Fives shamelessly interlocks his fingers with yours. The cars drive away, the lights glimmering in the last light of day. You catch a glare from your father, hardening your stare on him until he begrudgingly turns away. Fives looks rather pleased, but there’s a hint of disturbance on his face. You know the mere idea of family against family riled him up, but he’s good at hiding it anyway and puts on a smile for you. 

Your mother walks up the front stairs of the house, arms crossed as if she’s hugging herself. She turns to you and Fives, briefly glancing at your interlocked fingers. You’re expecting her to say something. Instead, she studies your face and smiles. It’s a bit rough round the edges but full of so much love. 

“What is your name young man?” 

Fives glances at you before turning to your mum. “Fives, ma’am.”

“Fives?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she stays quiet for a moment. “Is there any way I can thank you?” He turns to you, and then your mum. You seem to know what he’s thinking and give his hand a squeeze in support. “Uh, if it’s not too much trouble, is it okay if I stay here ma’am?” 

“He doesn’t have any family in the area, and it’s not like he can go anywhere with the pandemic.” you smoothly elaborate. “Can he stay mum? Please?” 

Your mum smiles again as if she knows something you don’t. She has something in her pocket that she glances at before eyeing you and Fives. “Of course he can stay. After all, you two are made for each other.” You’re about to ask what your mum means by that, but she’s already walking back in the house. 

And so you look to Fives, who giddily smiles in reply. He knows there’s no turning back now. It’s not like he can return home anyway, which isn’t something he isn’t unhappy about. Without warning, he leans towards you, planting a kiss on your cherry, red lips. He pulls away rather quickly, cheeks red. “Wow, never done that before.” he nervously admits. You snort, ignoring the racing of your heart. “Why don’t we try that again?” 

After all, you two are made for each other.

You smile at your mum’s words and kiss him again. Your heart continues to slam against your chest, and you’re still not sure if you’re doing it right, but it doesn’t matter because you know you two were meant to be. 

PART 3

[fletchphoenix]

First Impressions, Worst Impressions

High school Varigo AU? High school Varigo AU. That’s all I will say - I hope you guys enjoy it and if you thought the first one was slow burn,,,,you’re in for a treat <3

Also gives me a chance to show off my OC’s Jeremy, Isla, Elora and Zander! I love them all dearly. Anyway, onwards with the chapter!

TW - Strong Language (i think? I cant remember.)

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

   From the second Varian woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day.

  His alarm rang from under his pillow, him groaning and turning on his phone screen to shut it off, blinding light immediately shining straight into his eyes and leaving him frazzled for a second. He grumbled as he sat up, Ruddiger hissing in disapproval before sinking back into his slumber. Lucky bastard could sleep all day, but Varian? Nope. Varian had school. Brilliant. He’d gotten so used to being able to just lie in, not expected to attend for the last stretch of tenth grade after...the incident. Varian sat up and stretched, letting out a loud yawn before reaching to grab his clothes off the chair by his bed, it creaking in protest as he shuffled. Admittedly it was rather old - he might have to buy a new frame from Ikea or something like that. 

  He stumbled around the darkened room, reaching for the curtains covering his window and pulling them open to give him a little bit of light. He liked his room - it was in the attic, so he had a whole story to himself and it was quite spacious, able to fit two desks in his room. One sported his papers and various textbooks he’d used to keep up with school, and the other an old TV monitor along with a Nintendo Switch connected to it. He’d play on it a lot after Rapunzel got it for his birthday, the console soon becoming addictive during his extended absence from school. He’d played it every time he’d finished his work...no matter now, he thought. He had to get ready to return to that..horrible place.

  Once he was dressed in his blue shirt, a black undershirt and some jeans, he packed and grabbed his backpack and began to walk downstairs happily, sparing no glance to the different frames on the walls of the house. He trailed down the hall, opening the first door on the right and heading in quietly. In the kitchen stood Rapunzel, humming a small tune to herself and Eugene sleepily rested his forehead against the back of her neck and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. Varian sauntered in and dumped his bag on the floor, sitting at the table with a frown on his face. “Good morning to you too.” he muttered as Rapunzel plated his breakfast and handed it to him. “I still can’t believe you’re making me do this.” he commented as he ate.

  “Look, Varian..please give it a chance. If it doesn’t go well, we can go back to learning from home just..please. You promised you’d try.” Rapunzel pleaded, sitting opposite him at the oak table, the faint sound of a clock ticking filling the background of their tense conversation. Varian let out a groan and a sigh before reluctantly agreeing, turning his head away as Rapunzel cheered happily. He knew it was time for him to go back, despite everything that happened, but he didn’t know if he could. Sophomore year was rough to say the least and he didn’t know if he could even face his peers after everything that had happened to him. Still, a promise was a promise, and if he did this, Eugene and Rapunzel promised he could use the basement as his own personal lab, so that was a bonus. 

  “Okay kiddo, let's get you to school.” Eugene muttered sleepily, placing a kiss to his wife’s forehead with a soft smile as Varian followed him, his bag over his shoulder and sliding his headphones over his ears. He couldn’t really say he was excited - quite the contrary actually, dreading his return to the building, but he knew he had to do this for Eugene and Rapunzel’s sake. He just..prayed he wasn’t too far behind and that he’d be sat next to moderately decent people in his subjects. Last year, he was sat by Vex in English and she’d just bullied him the whole time, repeatedly calling him a nerd or short even though she was smaller than he was. He would hate to be sat beside her again, being as she made life hell for him. Of course there was no way she could’ve known what was going on in his life at the time, but it still sucked to have someone be a constant insult machine towards him relentlessly.

  He slid into the passenger’s seat, pressing the door lock and leaning back in his chair silently. Turning his head, he saw Eugene’s eyes boring into him, instinctively flinching back from him at the look. “Eugene..what are you doing.” he questioned, the man still looking at him with his lips tilted into a frown. Was there something on his face? Did he have a nosebleed or something? Had he offended Eugene? 

  “Kid, don’t feel pressured, alright? I get it’s been rough and a long time since you’ve been back to school, so if it gets too much for you, please just let me know and I’ll come pick you up. We just..we really hope you can do it. It’s what you need after being alone for so long.” he explained as he began to drive, opening the windows to let the August air breeze through the window and blow Varian’s hair around wildly. Varian shrugged and looked out the window, playing with the hem of his shirt quietly. He was sure he could handle it, after all it’s not as if he could just suddenly get killed on his first day! Right? Ugh, now that he thought about it, it was always a possibility and he could just spontaneously die on the spot in the middle of chemistry class-

  “V. I know you’re overthinking now. I can literally hear the cogs in your head going wild. Just relax, okay?” Eugene broke his train of thought, a slight smile on his face. “You’re gonna be fine, trust me, kid.” He reassured him as they pulled up outside the towering, intimidating building Varian knew oh so well as Corona High. His breathing started to quicken. Could he do this? He didn’t know if he could do this anymore, the mere thought of going back made him sick to his stomach. He doubled over in his seat, Eugene leaning over to trace reassuring circles onto his back and whispering comforting words to him. “Kid, don’t freak out. It’s just a building..okay? You’ll be fine. Trust me. Just breathe.” Varian regained his breath and nodded to Eugene, exiting the car and heading towards the looming building, fear building a deep, dark and seemingly endless pit in his gut. He took one last deep breath before his hands reached out, pushing open the immaculately cleaned glass doors and throwing himself into the fray.

  Immediately, he went towards his home room. From the look of the note he had, it was Room 256 with Mrs Ophelia Thorne. At least she sounded nice on the phone call, he recalled as he called to ask about his reintroduction back to school. He was apparently having an escort between lessons called Nuru, even though he’d insisted that he didn’t need that, having been to the school before. She persisted, however, saying that she’ll be able to ‘show him the changes around school’ and ‘be like a friend towards him’ as if he needed that. He’d agreed so he could get off the phone and go upstairs to continue with the work he’d started in his free time. It was on the old study of alchemy and, though research had been discontinued, he loved the sound of it. Transmutation fascinated him to no end, so the research never felt strenuous. However, he knew it wasn’t really that interesting to most. Still, he loved the subject with all his heart and would for as long as he lived.

  He kept walking down the halls, weaving through people before standing in front of Room 256, his hand moving to grasp the doorknob. He twisted it slowly and gently opened it, twenty or so pairs of eyes instantly fixating on him along with the chocolate brown eyes of a medium sized woman with matching wavy hair to the shade of her eyes. “Oh, you must be Varian! Welcome sweetheart, your seat is on the third row, second seat in! Next to Nuru and Zander please!” she cheered in her sing-song, upbeat voice. He could’ve sworn she was a princess if she wasn’t a school teacher, alas he walked to his seat, dumping his bag on the floor and sitting down at the desk. He looked to either side of him in silence.

  The boy to the right of him had clearly dyed, vibrant red hair and his eyes fixated on his phone hidden under the desk. His ears were littered with various piercing, the only ones he really noticed and recognised were the lobe, helix and industrial. His clothes consisted of a red and black sweater, cuffed jeans and some rather large boots on his feet, a black, denim jacket covered in patches hung over the back of the chair. He looked pretty cool, his name apparently Zander, according to Mrs Thorne. He raised his eyebrow, watching as the boy looked over at him and raised his eyebrow. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he muttered before turning back towards his phone. Varian’s cheeks flushed when he realised he was staring before turning away to look at the girl on his left, only to find she was staring at him. 

  The girl in question, Nuru, had a dark blue turtleneck sweater and a hair clip shaped like a star holding back a small section of hair from her face. She also wore a grey shirt and tights along with high top sneakers on her feet, coloured the same blue as the sweatshirt she was wearing. She looked at him with wide, orange eyes and a wide smile. “Hi, I’m Nuru and I’m gonna be showing you around. Well, I suppose you know that already being as Mrs Thorne didn’t need to explain..your name is Varian, right? That's a cool name. Sounds a bit like variable or variant. It’s unique.” she trailed off rambling, Varian’s mind losing it’s interest in her until she laid his timetable out in front of him. “Oh, so you have chemistry first with Mr Crick. He’s really nice - Zander’s dad, actually. And then you have Mrs Crick for English, but she just lets everyone call her Elora, her first name. Her and Mr Crick are married! They got married a while ago actually-”

  As Nuru went off on her second tangent about school, a smile made its way onto Varian’s face. Finally the day was starting to get better! Chemistry for his first period was like a dream come true, especially with Mr Crick. Though he was a young teacher, Mr Crick, or Jeremy as his mother used to call him, was very close friends with his mother before the incident. He could remember him being a sweet guy, albeit a little awkward and socially inept sometimes, but still a sweetheart. He always offered to give Varian extra work if he wanted it or to just be someone to talk to. Although Varian never took him up on the latter offer, it was nice to know someone other than his family cared about how he was holding up. It was nice he got married too - he remembered Elora joining him when he was invited over to dinner sometimes and their kids coming too. 

  The ringing of the bell in the hall made him rush to his feet, eager to get going to his lessons as Nuru took her time in packing her things up. “Can’t she just hurry up?” Varian murmured to himself as he waited impatiently for Nuru to be ready. As soon as she was, he bolted out of class and let Nuru pull him by his wrists past lockers and other students, a colourful and unique cast of characters. They’d walked past so many people, including Vex and a small, black haired boy dressed in a red hoodie that was far too big for him, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest as he happily chatted to his friends. Varian took in his surroundings until Nuru abruptly stopped, him walking into her by accident. “Sorry-” he began.

  “Here’s your classroom. I’ll come pick you up at the end to walk you to second period, but until then I’ll see you later!” She called out as she began jogging away. Elated, Varian opened the door and stepped over the threshold, relishing at the sight of a proper lab again. It was the one thing he’d missed about school, having all the proper equipment here as opposed to the ageing equipment he was stuck with at Rapunzel’s house. He smiled widely at the familiar sight of a lanky, raven haired man leaning back at his desk. Varian ran over with a smile.

  “Hey Mr Crick!” he almost yelled, not realising how loud he was and the man flinching slightly. Varian bit the inside of his cheek, opening his mouth to apologise before the older man chuckled and shook his head. 

  “I already know you’re gonna apologise, so don’t. There’s no need. It’s good to see you back in school, Varian.” he began, resting a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder with a smile on his face before looking away to his desk, picking up a sheet of paper and scanning it. “Okay, so you’re next to Hugo.” he declared after a few minutes, gesturing to a smug boy sitting at a desk. Varian raised his eyebrow, thanking Jeremy before moving away to sit down beside his new lab partner. 

  “Hey there, hairstripe. The name’s Hugo. The pleasure is all yours.” the blonde said, looking at the onyx haired boy smugly. From the second Hugo spoke, Varian knew he was going to suffer this year, just like he had with Vex. Bleached blonde locks were tied into a ponytail, revealing an, in his opinion, terrible undercut underneath. Obnoxiously large glasses sat slightly tilted on his crooked nose, the eyes behind them an emerald green colour. He wore a moss green hoodie, a dandelion undershirt peeking out from underneath, along with baggy blue jeans and some sneakers that, just like Nuru’s, matched his hoodie. A thing that piqued his interest, however, was the boy’s prosthetic arm, sitting blatantly out on the table, Varian fixing his gaze onto it and tilting his head slightly.

  “ Oh, that little thing? Well, it’s my prosthetic after I tragically lost my arm in the accident that killed my parents.” Hugo explained, dramatically leaning against Varian with the palm of his flesh hand pressed against his forehead. Great, Varian was next to a theatre kid. Just what he needed. “Tragic, right?” Hugo commented with a grin.

  “Oh yes, oh so tragic.” Varian rolled his eyes and shoved the other boy off him, already ready to kill him. As much as he loved Mr Crick...why did he have to sit him next to the most dramatic annoyance on earth? As far as first impressions went, Hugo...really wasn’t making a good one at all. He glanced back over at the boy again, whose head was propped up by his right arm as he grinned at Varian. 

  “Well, aren’t you gonna tell me your name, hairstripe?” he asked, leaning slightly closer into Varian’s personal space, causing him to cringe. This was going to be a VERY long year by the sound of things. 

  “It’s Varian. And can you please stop calling me Hairstripe? It’s really, really annoying.” he commented, already annoyed with the boy sitting next to him. He really didn’t want his favourite lesson to be ruined by an inconvenience like him. 

  “Mmm..nah. I think I’m gonna keep calling you hairstripe. It sounds better than whatever you said.” He smiled and turned his attention to the front as Mr Crick began the lesson. Varian leaned against the desk and groaned in annoyance, resting his head on the table and shutting his eyes as the boy beside him kept poking him with his pen under the table. This was going to be a very long lesson. 

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

  By the time the lesson was done, he just wanted to go home. Hugo was literally just Vex, but less insulting and more genuinely annoying. Oh well, at least that was the only time he’d see him all week. Sure, it was his favourite lesson with his favourite teacher in the world, but at least he only sat with him for one lesson this week. 

  That was until Mr Crick started talking.

  “Okay class, we have a senior project, so I’m gonna be announcing the pairs!” Mr Crick declared as he brought out a list. Varian zoned out as he waited for his name to be called. Finally, he’d be able to work with someone else other than this narcissistic, rude, egocentric- 

  “Varian Ruddiger, you will be working with Hugo Atkinson!” 

 Varian felt his heart drop and Hugo’s face twisted into a smirk.

  Oh no.

  No way was he going to work with Hugo Atkinson on a school project, involving the other coming to his house regularly and talking in a close proximity out of school hours even though he hated the guts of the guy sitting next to him. He stood up as everyone started to leave, making his way to Mr Crick. “Mr Crick, you can’t be serious I-I can’t work with him! He’s annoying and-and don’t even get me started on how goddamn dramatic he is!” he began to rant before Jeremy’s hands rested on his shoulders. 

  “Varian, you’re a bright kid and, surprisingly, so is Hugo. You two will make a really good team just..please give him a chance. Okay?” he pleaded, Varian giving in with his arguments and nodding in submission. He didn’t believe for a second that Hugo possessed more than one brain cell, but hey, miracles can apparently happen, right? He reassured himself as he headed out of the classroom to find Nuru.

  Nuru who was currently insulting Hugo outside the classroom. 

  “Oh my god, Atkinson, you’re such an inconvenience-oh hey Varian! Are you ready for the best lesson ever with the best teacher ever?” she said with a smile, grabbing Varian’s wrist in a clamp like grip and pulling him along the hall, the students seemingly parting to make a path for them. Much to Varian’s misfortune, Hugo followed after them with his stupid, smug grin on his face. 

  “Heya hairstripe..so we’re together for the project? How about you come over mine tonight and we can start working tonight? I’ll pick you up at the gates if you want.” he said with a grin and a subtle wink, causing Varian to cringe.

  “How about you come over to my place? My sister will want me back, since..y’know, first day back and all.” he explained, praying Hugo would agree. Luckily he did and relented in his following, letting Nuru drag him along to the english classrooms. The smaller boy let out a relieved sigh, focusing on Nuru and picking up on sections of her incessant rambling, something he was shockingly used to now. 

  “Oh, he's a massive playboy, probably fooled around with most girls and boys in the school. He treats them like shit too - uses them till he gets bored, then moves onto the next pretty thing that he can find.” she rolled her eyes and let go of Varian’s wrist, him speeding up to match her pace. “Here we are. I hope you have a great lesson, V and I’ll see you later!” She ran off and, once again, Varian stepped into the class and was told exactly where to go. 

  The rest of the day went swimmingly. No Hugo..just complete and utter peace. Sure, he had Nuru to drag him along, but he’d met Zander’s twin sister, Isla and she was an utter sweetheart (he sat by her now in math). He’d also seen Vex in the hall a few times, but as usual she paid him no mind and just continued doing her own thing. Typical Vex behaviour. And now it was the time he was dreading - the end of the day.

  He made his way through the halls, his eyes focused on the glazed floor before arriving in front of the familiar glass doors and seeing a familiar, lanky blonde standing outside. He waved to Varian, a smirk on his face as the boy left the building. “What took you so long, hairstripe? I was thinking you’d abandoned me.” He asked, laughing as they began to walk side by side.

  “Got held up - let’s just go.” Varian muttered in response, kicking a rock across the sidewalk. All it was was a few weeks working together after school. It would fly by, right? He took one look up at the smirking blonde and frowned.

  At least he hoped so.

[majoraop]

In Which His Eyes Are Shown

Surprised? I know you are… You were expecting to see me in a predicament, weren't you? Maybe hanging from chains in a dark and dirty cell, injured and starving. Or, if you were feeling particularly sadistic, you would probably be imagining me crucified like in a parody of my miserable childhood. Not at all. Look around you. The cell is small, but shackles at my wrist and ankles aside—a mere formality—it doesn't feel like a prison at all. I have a proper bed, books, even a gramophone! Music was an unexpected occurrence for the uneducated prisoners locked at the bottom of this pit, but they haven’t complained. Not that it would have made any difference. I've connections—yes, even here in Impel Down. They get me newspapers too, so I know what’s happening on the surface even while sitting here in a replica of my feather coat. (Its shade is wrong, but it isn't so bad: reddish-pink matches better with my current black-and-white striped clothes.) As expected, people are still killing each other as they always do. I'm laughing my ass off while the marines—the so-called "protectors of justice and peace"—are desperately trying to avoid the world crumbling under this mess caused by the pirates of the “Worst Generation”. Fufufu… as if my generation was any better! At least, down here a certain “Emperor” (a sloshed lunatic) won't find me. Then, after the fall of those cursed Celestial Dragons, I'll rise again and take back what's mine. You weren’t expecting to see me enjoying my confinement like this, were you? I bet you wanted me to shatter, to go insane—or worse, to change... Don't make me laugh! I've seen too much, learned too much, to change at this point of my unfortunate life. Sure, I may tone my ways down a little to play along with whoever will find usefulness in my skills and knowledge—granted, only if such... partnership were beneficial to me too. But I digress. I know why you’re here and what you want to see, so let’s get to the point. I know perfectly well what you crave for, each time you check on me in one of your sick fantasies and imaginary scenarios in which I'm what I’ll never be. I know what you yearn for, and what you've been waiting for all this time. And since I'm in a particularly good mood—say thanks to the top-grade wine they brought me earlier today—I’ll show you what your inquiring eyes have been silently asking for a while now. Be attentive though—I will concede you just a moment: my time is precious even in this so-called “hell” (I've seen worse). I won't waste too much of it for a mere peasant like you. Are you ready? I hope that after this you'll leave me alone at last. “...” Why that expression? Are you disappointed? You sure love to fantasise about me! I don’t know if I should feel flattered or crept out by your morbid curiosity... I'll just laugh it off, I guess. And no, I won't put off my glasses for you again, so don't bother asking. Now, shut up and get lost! I need to think... A clownish monkey and a whiny duckling blew up my plans last time, but I'm already weaving my web again: connection after connection, thread after thread... people are so easy to corrupt! My strings get everywhere, farther than what you would ever imagine even in your wildest dreams—or nightmares. I must be ready, and you should start preparing too: the craziest part of this treasure hunt for the “One Piece” is yet to begin. --- Doflamingo jolted awake. Panting, he tried to get up into a sitting position but couldn't move an inch. A dream...? He blinked behind his glasses, trying to control his breathing and slow down his heartbeat. Next, he tried to get up again but to no avail. Slowly, he recognised the sicking sensation of the seastone chains binding his arms, legs, and torso. With his limbs spread open like that and his back pressed against the cold ground, he felt utterly vulnerable. Where is the music? Where are the wine and the newspapers...? Doflamingo’s thoughts raced frantically while he tried to remember. Why had he been imprisoned? However, he only recalled a wrongly coloured coat and useful connections… But all of that had disappeared now, and he was alone with his glasses and his nightmares. The assassins! While fighting against his mind, which was going crazy from isolation and boredom, he started remembering. The assassins may be here already! Doflamingo laughed. Loudly. He wondered if someone could hear him down there, the deranged “FUFUFUs” sounding alien to him since his voice was hoarse from lack of use. How long had he been into solitary confinement? Weeks? Months? Years? He didn’t know, but he knew he had no influence nor relevance down there. They're here to kill me! His worst fear assaulted him again: he knew the secret of Mary Geoise, so he had to die. But to his surprise, he almost welcomed death now. Anything would be better than being unable to move, alone in a damp cell, with whatever was left of his sanity inexorably slipping away from his grasp. His threads had been severed. He felt impotent. He was a weak child again, screaming in fear while an angry mob vomited its hate on him. Stay away!!! Doflamingo's breathing turned frantic. As much as he tried to gulp air down his sore throat, it never was enough. He pulled at the chains around his wrists desperately, craving for oxygen. He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes but fought them back: he would not cry again, no matter how painful it was. He hadn’t been able to hold back his tears as a child, hanging from cruel ropes while flames scorched his skin and smoke intoxicated him. Or when he hadn't been readmitted back to his homeland, his father's blood still on his hands. But now it was different. It had to be. The assassins from back then... they’re still after me! Doflamingo felt nauseous, defenceless. He hated that feeling: he was born to rule, not to succumb. And yet, even in the depths of hell, his ambition was still miraculously intact: he was a king—he had always been. But now that he was alone in that isolation cell, he felt the weight of his failures. He had killed his father—his brother too—but it all had been for nothing. He finally understood why he had surrounded himself with people not bound to him by blood and had made them his new family: he felt alone. He had always felt alone since that damned day when his mother died. Curse you, father! His mother had been the only person he had ever loved. Only Roci, his brother, had come close, but it hadn’t last. Flashes of Rocinante joining his pirate crew appeared in Doflamingo’s feverish mind, mixed with more memories of his terrible past. He recalled hastily eating trash in the streets together with his little brother, people beating them, and the smell… That lingering, disgusting smell as they lived in a shack hidden in a rubbish dump. Doflamingo took a few deep breaths not to throw up—as much as the chains around his chest allowed him to do that at least. He felt pain in the areas where the cold metal bit his flash, the black and white prison uniform not offering much protection. I’m miserable right now, aren’t I? He tried to laugh that feeling off but failed to do so. Enshrouded in complete darkness, Doflamingo realised not even his glasses could hide the helplessness filling his eyes.

Short story written for @callmedrafter, for the Set Sail! One Piece Mid Year Exchange @setsailexchange. The draft of this fanfic had been sitting in my folders for way too long, and this was the perfect occasion to edit and publish it at last! (When characters start talking to you and even mocking you for the way you write them, you know it's time for them to reappear in their canon glory… which Doffy actually did after I wrote the second draft of his story—meaning that this fanfic isn’t completely canon anymore. I should have expected him having connections in Impel Down, too.)

[wifeofkimtaehyungofbts]

Chapter 3

Pairing: Jimin x Y/N

Synopsis: How do you help someone with their emotions if you don’t feel emotions? When your brother’s best friend dies in a tragic car accident and he spirals downwards in depression, you devote yourself to helping him out of his misery. But when his other best friend becomes suicidal following the loss, it isn’t merely about helping them. It’s about saving them.

Word count: 2000+

*****

I leave the office much later than planned. The big clock on the wall opposite to my desk show the time as 11.11pm and I mentally slapped myself for getting carried away with work as I rushed to pack my bags.

I tore down the stairs, almost tumbling while running as fast as my legs would carry me. By the time I exit the building, the navy-blue shirt is shades darker drenched in sweat and annoyingly sticking to my skin. Beads of sweat drip down my back slowly adding to my frustration. Fortunately, as I reach the bus stop, a white bus with blue strips across the sides is already parked and revving its engine signalling it is ready for departure. Just as it begins pulling away, I get onto it and relax against the cold seats of the bus as I make my way back home.

During the short seven-minute walk back home from the bus stop I get off at, I stopped by the fast-food joint just around the corner to my neighbourhood. A big TV hangs on the wall adjacent to the cashier, a good time-passer for customers as they await their order. Standing behind 4 men in line to place my order, I stare at the TV purposelessly. A football documentary was playing loudly, the sound echoing from somewhere across the room. Almost everybody else at the fast-food joint was watching the documentary in tensed silence and awe.

The program suddenly changes to the breaking news. Annoyed sighs break out in the small space and I tune into the news. After staring at my office computer for hours at a stretch my eyes strain and hurt when I blink as I stare at the TV.

Great. So much for wanting to watch a movie during dinner tonight.

The brunette at the news desk seemed quite firm and had an authoritative stance. She has been a host for this channel for as long as I remember. Her first appearance as a news reporter was when I was in eighth grade.

What must it be like to get your dream job?

I have no big complains about my job. I got it with minimum qualifications with no prior work experience because I’ve never been a model student, scoring average at both academics and sports. As a young big dreamer, I wanted to be a news reporter, then a sales woman and even a café owner. Ultimately, I settled with taking up the job at a journalist’s office where I edit and re-write the articles for publishing. The work is stressful, as I need to be culturally sensitive and socially aware of the trends and debates of the current world. But the pay is enough to support myself and help my brother if he needs any extra cash. I’ve never thought about further studies but my brother enrolled me for a psychology program at his university without checking with me. I was furious when I found out, but he had already paid with his own money and he kept insisting I was capable of understanding the minds of people. I had laughed, finding it beyond hilarious given the fact that I am incapable of feeling emotion altogether.

It’s in the art of seeing someone as they don’t wish to and in the act of understanding why they hid their true selves and resorted to other ways of existing, my brother had said to me.

I attentively wait for her to deliver the breaking news. Once she starts talking and the photographs of the subject of interest appear on the big screen in splendid colour, all air leaves my lungs.

A car accident.

Three university students.

The inside of my mouth has gone dry, my tongue hardening and feeling prickly. My fingertips feel eerily cold with sweat. Loud gasps followed by murmurs float in the air.

Why are they still talking about it? It happened last week?

My question is answered shortly after the description of the car accident ends. The woman goes on to explain with confirmed evidence that the man who had crashed into the car with the university students was a journalist who was drunk driving. He drove his vehicle on the wrong lane and had collided into the other car in a head on collision. The impact had thrown the car with the university students off the road, crashing into a nearby tree. The collision killed the student seated at the driver’s seat.

Taehyung.

The other two suffered fatal injuries, but were reported to have survived the car crash.

Jungkook and Jimin.

As I stare at the TV screen, warm tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. Fortunately, I am the next in line and I rush to make my order. Everything around me sounds like white noise. Up until the cashier hands me my food, I am not aware of anything happening around me. I run out of the fast-food joint, the cold breeze hitting my face drying the tears that were already spilling down my cheeks.

***

I ring the bell three times, but nobody answers the door. Fortunately for me, I already have a set of spare keys in my handbag. I fished them out and open the lock of the door. To my surprise, all the lights in the house have been switched off. Which is understandable at this hour of the night. But Jungkook never turns them off. If I’m not home yet, he always leaves the light in the living room on.

Maybe he’s asleep?

Given the fact that he was home since morning and this being one of his very rare days of work, it’s understandable that he must have slept in early. My brother has always been an active person. He likes sports, working out, trying new activities and so on. On his off days, he tends to catch up on his hobbies and discover new hobbies.

It won’t be a surprise following the latest incident, he may have found it hard to engage in hobbies, therefore slept rather early. I tiptoe along the dark hallway, stretching my hands in front of me to avoid running into any obstacles my brother may have left after playing around. I knock softly on his door and then proceed to knock loudly when I hear no response.

“Jungkook?” I call out his name as I open the door.

There is no response, therefore I reached for the light switch and flipped it on. I gasp loudly as I take in the empty room. It wasn’t just an empty room; it was a messy empty room. It almost looks like Jungkook had been looking for something in his room and had thrown the blankets, the books, his clothes and the pillows all across the floor in the process. As I walked over to his bed, I picked up the fallen pens and books and placed them neatly on his study table. I went on to collect the towel and the blanket off the floor and placed it neatly on top of his bed. His phone was not on his night stand, as he would usually leave it.

So, he’s not home.

He must have left earlier in the afternoon, hence why the lights were not on and he must have not returned home till now. I look at the digital clock ticking away on his night stand.

12:45

Where could he be 45 minutes past midnight?

He does not have many friends to go out drinking with, his only friends being Taehyung and Jimin.

Taehyung was his friend.

I could not think of any place Jungkook maybe right now. I heard Taehung’s parents left town to return to their hometown for a few weeks to get over their son’s death. I do not know Jimin’s where abouts, but I do know that he himself had difficulty getting over Taehyung’s death. Therefore, I don’t think that the two of them went out drinking.

My heart starts racing thinking about where my brother could be. He is very sensitive, especially towards people and things he cares about deeply. Given his current state of mind following the incident and how broken his only other friend is, Jungkook may turn to whatever may ease his pain.

Just thinking about the endless possibilities of what Jungkook could be doing right now and where he could be made my heart ache and head throb. I dial his number on my phone and call him but he does not answer. He continues to not answer the next seven times I call him. Each passing ring worries me some more, until I’m dashing out of the house in a blind hurry.

I tear down the street frantically. I scream his name into the darkness. But I get no response in return. I turn on the flashlight on my phone and turn every corner of our lane back to the main road looking for him. There is no way Jungkook may have got onto the train or the bus and gone off to some specific destination given the fact that he does not have a specific destination in mind. I shiver in the sheer cold of the night and start crying at the side of the street.

I whip my head around so fast when somebody taps me on the shoulder. The old man that lives right next door smiles sadly at me. He hands me a piece of paper with his shaking hands. I take it from him with a confused look on my face. He leaves my side quietly as I continue to open the paper.

It’s a note written in my brother’s handwriting.

Went to Jimin’s. An emergency.

I did not know where Jimin lived, but I knew he had to live close by because my brother would often visit him during his high school and university years. My heart rate started to slow down now that I knew that he was with somebody and not attempting anything crazy. I walked back home, the seven minutes now feeling like seven hours.

***

Having a cold-water bath and curling up in warm sheets in front of the TV watching a movie I’ve been dying to doesn’t help when the loneliness and silence of the empty house engulfs me. I’ve been home alone before, days at a stretch even. But knowing Jungkook is out there in his sensitive state of mind with a friend who is equally mentally in pain does not rest easy with me. I tried calling him again but no one picks up the call.

I sigh as I switch off the TV and turn on the lights. I plop down on the couch and cover myself in the warm sheets again. My eye lids feel heavy but my eyes are curious. They want to see more. My brain needs to work more. My heart wants Jungkook home.

Dragging my feet to the kitchen, my face is greeted with the cold from the refrigerator as I get some fresh mango juice. I gulp down as much as I can before I feel like I might throw up all the liquid filling my stomach. Tucking strands of lose hair behind my ears, I make my way back to the living room.

Minutes pass by and I feel wearier. I shake my head to shake the fog clogging my mind but it doesn’t go away.

Maybe I’ll call him one more time.

The server you are trying to reach is currently switched off or not in a service area.

My heart jumps a beat and then another as I realize I have no way of contacting my brother. I know he is safe, a roof over his head and probably food in his stomach. But I needed to talk to him tonight. Hearing him say he’s fine and he’ll be back whenever would assure me of his mental and physical well-being.

Before I know it, I am rummaging through Jungkook’s books and files and even through his drawers shamelessly searching for Jimin’s number or address. I find it scribbled down in Jungkook’s neat handwriting on the corner of some musical sheets in his second drawer along with several polaroid pictures of what seems like his friends and him.

With shaking hands, I dial the number on my phone.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

***

Previous / Next

[sprnklersplashes]

written in ink (cadnis one-shot)

Ever since Janis could read, she's known one of the biggest plot twists in Harry Potter. Not because she worked it out, but because it's been tattooed on her skin all her life. Her soulmate spoiled Dumbedore's death for her.

The AU where the first words you hear your soulmate say are tattooed on your body, Cadnis style.

Since she was old enough to read, Janis had wondered what her soulmate’s first words to her could mean. It’s pretty scary, especially for a kid, knowing that the first words you ever hear your soulmate saying will be about someone dying. She’s puzzled over who the future death might be even more than she has about who her future soulmate might be. She doesn’t want to ask her parents for fear it’s someone close to them, nor does she think to look it up at her young age and so for the first few years of her life her world is dominated by one, huge, unavoidable question; who in her future dies, and what they are to her soulmate.

But then she’s old enough to know about Harry Potter, and she doesn’t need to wonder any more.

Her soulmate tattoo, etched in black across her ribs, reads I just can’t believe Dumbledore died.

She got two pages into Philosopher’s Stone before she made the connection and flung the book across her bedroom, her eyes popping out of her head and her jaw on the floor. The first question on her mind is “what kind of insane author kills off the main character’s mentor?”, but soon she’ll learn that frankly, that is the least of JK Rowling’s problems. The second question is “so… my soulmate is into Harry Potter?”. And then the third question comes slowly, creeping into her brain with tentative steps and simmering excitement, “so when do I get to meet them?”.

She doesn’t get a quick answer to that last one.

It’s a bit of a pain really, having a major spoiler to everyone’s favourite book series permanently written on her body. For one, there’s always a surge of pity in her chest when she sees people with the books, oblivious to the impending death of a beloved parental figure. Like God’s cursed her with forbidden knowledge that places her above her classmates, where she can watch them live in blissful ignorance until they reach the fated book or movie or just Google it because they’re too impatient. Janis is denied that luxury, her knowing of events yet to come too much for her to even give the books a chance. They’re not worth the way her heart clenches painfully in her chest whenever the wise old wizard comes in.

Okay that was an exaggeration. There are far better books out there that she’s happy to read. But that doesn’t change how the words seem to burn on her skin. No one likes spoilers after all.  So when she changes before PE it’s in half the time it takes the other girls and she covers it up with make-up during the summer. And then kids start to get nosy and what should be an intimate secret is tossed around carelessly, and she starts teaching herself the art of lying.

Regina’s the one who asks first. They’re 12 and it’s a sleepover and she’s sprawled across her bed, her chin resting on her closed fist, her eyes glinting dangerously in the half-light.

“Okay Janis. Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she chooses. She’s not scared of dares, but she’s smart enough to know better than to take a dare from her.

“Okay,” she says, her lips curling into a sly smirk, one that makes Janis bite on the inside of her cheek and wish she could take it back. Sometimes she forgets how slippery Regina can be, especially on days like today when she’s been nothing but bouncy and fun and kind. She forgot that this side to her best friend even existed, the side that takes jokes too far and tries to pry Janis open like she’s a treasure chest. All that comes back to her when she tosses her perfect hair over her shoulder and raises her eyebrow, and she’s reminded that sometimes she doesn’t actually like hanging out with Regina.

She’s also reminded that she hates Truth or Dare.

“What does your soulmate tattoo say?”

“That’s private,” Janis reminds her, hugging the pillow tighter against her chest. “You’re only meant to tell your soulmate.”

“I know,” she scoffs, rolling off the bed and shuffling towards Janis. “But everyone tells people. And if you can’t tell me, your best friend, who can you tell?” Her tone is like the satin sheets on her bed, soft and comforting and familiar that Janis almost falls for it and tells her. Besides, Regina doesn’t even read Harry Potter, right? So it’s not like she would care… But other people might. And Regina might tell other people. Or Gretchen. Or Karen. Most likely Karen. And Karen could tell who-knows-who, who could tell who-knows-who, and then before she knows it she’s ruined Harry Potter for her entire grade. And then anything could happen to her. Taylor Wedell got her head shoved in a toilet for spoiling the end of Gossip Girl. And Janis really likes her head.

“I’m not telling, Regina,” she says, shrugging. “I’m sorry. That’s private.”

But there’s no word Regina George hates more than ‘no’. Her eyes narrow and her face falls into a pout even as she shrugs it off, telling Janis that she’s making a big deal out of nothing and if she won’t tell her that’s her problem. Janis tries to make it up to her, saying that she can ask anything else, but Regina won’t listen, deciding she wants to braid Karen’s hair instead.

They spend the rest of the night in a prickly silence and it takes a week before Regina returns to normal after that.

Damian is her next friend and he’s far better company than Regina is. He shows her his tattoo of his own volition, proudly extending his arm so she can see the words ‘can you do that again?’ written there in a rushed scribble. He confesses that he’s compared it with every other boy’s notes in their year, trying to see if he’s already met his other half and just forgot.

“I don’t think you can do that,” she tells him as they walk home from school one day, aged fourteen. “My mom said that when my dad first spoke to her it changed everything else. Like the minute she heard those words, nothing else mattered. She described it as some flower opening up in her chest.” She rolls her eyes a little, unsure if she’s inclined to believe all that. “It was really poetic.”

“Sounds beautiful,” he remarks, kicking up a pile of leaves. “Is that why you won’t tell me yours?”

“Sort of,” she sighs. “Hey, do you like Harry Potter?”

“I guess,” he replies. “I mean I’m more of a fan of the lore than of the books itself, what’s your house, I’m a Hufflepuff-”

It’s months later when they watch the sixth movie for the first time. The two of them on the sofa in Damian’s basement, Janis half-paying attention, half-working on a drawing. Damian is on the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and his hand slapping Janis’ leg every ten minutes. Despite telling herself she doesn’t care, she does, but it isn’t in the way Damian thinks she does. Her heart hammers against her ribs through the whole movie and nearly stops in every scene Dumbledore is in as she wonders if this is it, the moment she’s had carved into her skin her whole life.

She lets out a loud, relieved “finally!” when he eventually up and dies, prompting Damian to turn to her with his mouth open and his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling, a silent ‘Janis, what the fuck’ on his face.

And it’s then she tells him, tells him about the words on her chest and the secret she’s kept and how someone she’s never met ruined one of the biggest franchises in pop culture for her.

Damian laughs so hard his cat has to run over and check he’s not dead.

                                                                                                    *****

Janis sits on her desk in the art room, studying her piece from every new angle she can find. Not many people are in, given that it’s only the second week of junior year, which gives her a space to work on her own. Thanks to her spending the better part of her freshman and sophomore lunch periods in here, the art teacher gives her free range over the place and leaves for her cigarette breaks when she comes in, telling her not to touch anything and help herself to the cookies in her drawer but not to tell anyone else. And with just two seniors in and devoted to their work, she sits on the desk, her foot on the chair and a paintbrush between her fingers, trying to find the right colour.

“Good morning starshine!” Damian sings, earning him glares from the seniors. “Ooft, tough crowd.”

“They’re trying to focus,” she tells him, handing him a cookie. Sure Miss Peters said not to give the cookies to anyone, but Damian’s not anyone.

“My apologies to them,” he says in a low voice, leaning against the table and taking in her newest piece, a mermaid with flowing black hair and delicate purple eyes, the little fangs on her mouth the only allusion to the danger she holds. “That’s cool.”

“You think?” she replies, pride thumping in her chest.

“I know,” he says firmly, a smile on his face and the kind of wholesome honesty that only moms, grandmas and Damian Hubbard know how. “Did you hear the tea?”

“What?” She avoids school gossip like the plague, knowing all too well how it feels to be on the receiving end, but if Damian is telling her it’s either important, completely harmless or hilarious.

“There’s a new girl in our grade,” he tells her. So it’s the first one. “The student activities committee was telling me. Apparently she moved here from…. Kenyaaaa…” He drags the ‘a’ out for as long as his mighty lungs will allow, wiggling his eyebrows for dramatic effect.

“That’s neat,” she remarks, secretly getting a kick of Damian’s wounded puppy ‘why aren’t you appreciating my dramatics’ face. It’s a little more than neat, new kids aren’t really common in North Shore, especially ones from Kenya. “What’s her name?”

“Katie Heron, apparently,” he says. He opens his mouth to say more but he’s cut short by the bell ringing, ending their free period. With a sigh, Janis places her picture back in her folder and tucks it under her arm. Damian skips along beside her, filling her in on the whispers of the drama department about the upcoming musical and telling her he’s secured a room for their LGBTQ+ club movie night on Friday. She chats along, suggesting some more movies to add to their list and agrees what snacks to bring and asks him to get a list of dietary requirements from everyone. The normal kind of stuff that she deals with on normal school days.

But in the very very back of her mind, the name ‘Katie Heron’ sticks, and she’s not entirely sure why.

As fate would have it, she sees the new girl at lunch. It’s pure chance, she just happens to look up at the right moment in the right direction and sees an unfamiliar face in the cafeteria. And quite frankly, she’s pretty. She’s tiny, impossibly tiny, as in a kind of tiny that should probably not be legal, with long, caramel-coloured hair, braided at the top and the rest falling past her shoulders. She’s not too far away from her and she can see the wide smile on her face, innocent and excited, dimples in her rosy cheeks, and while she can’t see what colour her eyes are, she can see them lighting up as she looks around the cafeteria. She stands out, even in her cargo shorts and plaid shirt. Like the rest of the cafeteria-including Janis- was drawn in pencil but she was drawn in pen.

There’s something in her gut, something pushing her to go say hi, maybe invite her to sit with them even though that wouldn’t be normal for her. Damian’s the one who does that anyway and she’s just the arm candy. There’s no reason she should single this girl out other than the fact that she’s new. And she looks a little lonely, wandering around tables, her neck craning for an empty seat. Maybe Damian can do the talking and she can just smile.

Janis very nearly does approach her. She pushes herself up and makes to head in her direction. But one thing, one crucial thing, stops her.

Regina. Regina slides up to the new girl with a beaming smile and a no-doubt sweet, breathy voice, touching new girl-Katie’s-shoulder and tugging on her arm, asking her to come have lunch when them at their table, all the way on the other side of the cafeteria. She happily agrees and Regina links arms with her and escorts her away from the art freaks and towards Plastic Land, where Regina’s word is the word of God. She can tell her anything and New Girl will believe her.

Janis slumps back down, a cold, heavy weight in her stomach. She scoffs at herself and shakes her head, no clue why she’s so upset, since she doesn’t even know her. Damian’s eyes meet hers and he pats her shoulder sympathetically, a ‘maybe next time’ said softly to her. But when she spies her at the Plastic’s table amongst the pink and gold, she wonders with a heavy heart if there will be a next time.  

She crosses paths with the new girl three times in the following week. During that week she learns that her name is Cady with a C, a D and a Y, not Katie. She also learns that she’s taking AP calculus, she really likes math and that she used to live with animals. She also works out that she’s in her French class but was sick that day, and that the empty seat captured her attention more than anything their teacher said did.

She’s also learning that she might be becoming a stalker.

“So are you going to talk to her?” Damian asks her during gym.

“Why would I?” she replies, slowing down her pace once she’s out of the coach’s vision.

“Because you like her,” she replies, drawing out the ‘like’ for as long as his lungs will allow, as though the longer he says it the more Janis likes her.

“I don’t even know her,” she reminds him. “You probably know her better than I do.”

“Yes, and I know you better than you know you. So I know you like her.” She rolls her eyes, unable to find it in her to correct him. It’s not untrue. “I also watched you obsessively stalk her Instagram and Facebook accounts for a solid thirty minutes so...”

“Oh stop,” she scoffs, laughter in her voice. “You didn’t stop me so that’s 90% on you.”

“Oh so I have to steer you straight?”

“Well that would be an accomplishment,” she grins. “Considering.”

“Hubbard, Sarkisian!” the coach barks at them from the middle of the field. “Pick up the pace and stop the chatting or it’s two more laps!”

They speed ahead and lower their voices, privately discussing what they think of the coach and his new shorts and what they’d like to do to his head with those dodgeballs.

                                                                                               *****

By Friday, Janis has almost forgotten about her crush-that’s-not-a-crush on Cady. Well, she’s not forgotten it but she’s put it to the side. Well, not to the side, but it’s away for now. Well, not away but… Cady wasn’t the first thing on her mind when she woke up, so she’s calling it progress.

At least the LGBT+ movie night provides a welcome distraction. They only have the hall for the next few hours, just enough time for Pride and Love, Simon and finishing off with a few episodes of One Day At A Time, which is a cheat, since they’re not movies, but they’re the only thing short enough to fill the remaining time.

Janis takes charge of snacks while Sonja and Sophie argue with the IT guy over how to use the projector, Sophie’s hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, pulling her down when she gets too heated. Janis tries not to wonder if her girlfriend will do that for her one day. She’s trying to banish all thoughts of romance entirely, but Sonja is leaning on Sophie and holding her hand as they look at the computer together and it makes Janis’ chest ache and images of a certain brunette creep into her mind.

The more she tries not to think about Cady, the more she does, so much so that when the doors open and Cady jumps in with the Mathletes and their matching jackets, Janis is half-sure she’s imagining it.

And then she panics.

“Holy crap,” she whispers, slapping Damian’s shoulder again and again until he acknowledges her. “Damian, Damian, Damian!” There’s a knot in her stomach and a familiar feeling of being pulled towards her, like there’s an invisible rope around her waist.

“I see her!” he replies, grabbing her hand both to comfort her and stop her from slapping him again. His hands come around her shoulders, straightening her back and holding her up as Cady wanders over in their direction. Her eyes happen to find them and her face breaks into a smile, and for an insane moment, Janis thinks she’s smiling at her. Which would be ridiculous because they’ve never said one word to each other. The only reason she might smile at her is if she was being extra-friendly or if she was her-

No, she tells herself sternly. Not the S word.

“Oh, Janis, Damian!” Kevin hollers, jumping down the hall to them with the rest of his crew. Janis wipes her hand on her shorts, giving what she hopes is a normal smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey Kev,” Damian replies, offering a high-five.

“You guys met my girl Cady?” he asks, gesturing to her. Met is a funny word in this scenario. I wish is the response Janis thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

“We haven’t had the pleasure,” Damian replies, eyeing Janis and grinning. “Hubbard comma Damian. This is my amusing sidekick, Sarkisian comma Janis.” His introduction makes Cady laugh and it sounds like a bell ringing or part of a melody being played.

“We’re introducing her to American pop culture,” Marwan adds just as Cady is opening her mouth to speak. She closes it, a pleasant expression on her face but her hand is clenched into a tight fist. “But we need a break from Harry Potter. That’s too dark. We watched Half-Blood Prince and oof” He makes a cutting-your-head-off gesture with his hand, his features twisted into over-dramatic "yikes". Cady nods along enthusiastically and opens her mouth, a sense of urgency in her face, as though one might cut her off, and Janis is almost excited to hear her. Holy crap, is this having it bad?

“I just can’t believe Dumbledore died!” she exclaims. "I mean who does that?"

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

It doesn’t happen the way Janis’ mom described it. Rather than a flower blooming in her chest it’s a truck hitting her at full speed and sending her flying, her mind turning to static at those words and the pieces don’t even have time to connect in her brain before she yells-

“It’s you! You’re the one!” And at that, Cady’s mouth falls open and her eyes bulge as her hand flies to her forearm. For years, this girl has occupied Janis’ mind, and now she’s face to face with her, and in her most dire moment, rational thought has abandoned her. “You ruined Harry Potter for me!”

“Well… that’s not how I thought this was going to go down,” she mumbles, her pale cheeks turning pink.

As she comes back to herself, Janis looks around her, finding a face looking at her everywhere she turns. Some are amused, some shocked, some annoyed, some confused. But they surround her and the room starts closing in on her, making her feel like caged animal in a zoo, a spectacle for people to discuss over lunch. It’s a familiar feeling all right.

Her eyes meet Cady’s, terrified brown meeting bewildered blue and alongside the heavy cloud of embarrassment and the jagged anxiety, she feels a stab of guilt for doing this to her and it all threatens to crush her. So she does what feel most normal for her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she finds herself running towards the doors and out into the hallway.

“Janis, wait!” Cady calls after her, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floors. She catches up to where Janis is standing, taking in deep breaths and pulling herself back together. Cady hovers in front of her, unsure of what to do, which isn’t what Janis expected. Shouldn’t soulmates just know?

“Sorry,” she repeats, straightening up. “Sorry I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.”

“S’okay,” she replies with a shrug, tapping her toe against the floor. She gives her an adorably sheepish look, one that makes Janis want to hold her tight forever. “Sorry I ruined Harry Potter for you.”

“Oh it’s fine,” she scoffs. “Seriously. Percy Jackson’s the superior children’s series. I wasn’t losing sleep over it.”

“I’ll make a note to read those,” she says softly, stepping a little closer to her. When she looks up at her, Janis feels it. The feeling her mom told her about. The flower opens in her chest and her worries begin to fade at the edges. Right now is the moment she begins hoping and daring to be brave, which is new for her. But there’s something, always something, or rather someone that looms over her and threatens it, even when she’s not physically here. She got her claws into Cady first and Janis can’t not be freaked out by that.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” she begins.

“I’ve not heard anything,” is what Cady replies in a firm voice. “Not anything worth repeating.”

“You haven’t?” Janis asks. The urge to pick at her nails rises in her. “Because… I know people-”

“Regina?” she says. She stuffs her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, her expression half-smile, half-grimace. ���Yeah. She told me stuff. But…”

“But?” That makes her laugh again, and even though it’s soft and more of a breath, it’s beautiful to her.

“But you know… I’m not going to trust someone who uses slurs that freely,” she says, quirking an eyebrow. “Or who keeps a burn book about other people.” It takes a lot of self-control not for Janis not to hug her right now. Her anxiety dissolves almost entirely, replaced by feelings that are new and exciting and safe, above everything else. She feels safe with her. Maybe that’s what a soulmate means. Having someone be your safety net.

“You know…” she begins, sneaking a glance back inside the gym, where the movie has already started playing. “These things are great, but they seem to have it under control. Maybe you and I could go to the diner down the street? Get some milkshakes? Hang out? Talk a little?”

“I’d love that,” Cady replies, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling. She bites her lip and after a moment’s hesitation, holds out her hand. Her face is expectant but her fingers wiggle nervously. Her fingernails are painted green and on her wrist is a braided leather bracelet. Her hand looks soft and tiny and perfectly suited to hers, just like Cady herself, she supposes.

After more than a moment’s hesitation, Janis takes it, and nothing before has ever felt so right.

[paulieshore]

Obey Me / SCM Au Series

Words: 4789 

Warnings: I don’t know now to rate this, be advised? May take some time reading.

Characters belong to:

-          Obey me – Shall we Date

-          Voltage: Star Crossed Myth

Mc is Y/N, I have written her as female. Can gender bend if you please. ENJOY!!

Chapter 1: Goldie

 Just another typical day, well typical in the last year of your life anyways. Not many humans had the opportunity you did to study in another realm. You were recruited to study in Devildom under an exchange program to prove, demons, angels, mortals etc can live and respect each other side by side.

‘Diavolo’s dream’

To say it had been a pretty hectic few months would be an understatement. Luckily everything seemed to have worked itself out, you’d finished the exchange program (and passed!) even with all the ups and downs. Thankfully making it through alive, Belphie hadn’t killed you; hell, even Lucifer’s faithfully devoted and very scary temperament hadn’t killed you…. Yet, anyways.

Also adding that you found out you were a reincarnated, descendent of Lillith. The brothers’ sister not weird at all or something like that, to be honest there was a lot to take in for a simple human like you. Here you were though, furthering your study under the permission grant of Diavolo. Proving that, even when faced with adversity, when we (demons/humans/and angels) work together; we can get through anything.

Praying this year was going to be better, for all of you.

Beel seemed happier and hungrier with Belphie back, Mammon was still up to his usual antics to get rich quick. Lucifer working away and keeping order within the house, Satan reading away his life. Asmo as conceited as always, and Levi being Levi – going to school, gaming and anime.

Yup, another typical day in the House of Lamentation.

“Hey Y/N, next week there’s a school trip. We’re traveling to the outer limits of the city to study some of the earth for our essays regarding remedies. Want to be study partners?” Satan quietly sits next to you, prompting you to look at the D.D.D notification.

“Yea sure, I have yet to see the outside of the city! Is it like, devildom’s country side to human world country side?”

Satan shakes his head, “No, it’s barren waste land. Not even safe for low graded demons to be out in. So, with that said try not to wonder, yea?” he quirks his eyebrow up.

That was a dig at me wasn’t it?

You give him a pouty look, before laughing it off and nodding, “yea, yea, thanks for the warning.”

“Ah man, normally another school trip wouldn’t be so bad, but the outer limits are a bit boring!” Asmo folds his arms in exasperation. “Were literally going to spend the day, looking around stinking areas for rocks! Just to write about it, so dumb. I just done my nails, and the smell is going to take weeks to come out of my uniform.”

“Smell?” You curiously ask Asmo.

A voice jumps in the conversation, from behind “Ever smelt burning flesh of hundreds of rotting corpses?” Belphie inputs as he and Beel take their seats at the table.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head ever so slowly, the only thing you could imagine was that one time the candle flame lit a couple of your hairs on fire. That smell was bad enough, but burning flesh? Hundreds of rotting corpses? You had seen and smelt a lot of things but that would be a first, and you couldn’t exactly say you were curious to find out.

Just as you were sinking into a mind fuck, Lucifer appears at the head of the table, “Enough, no need to worry Y/N. Belphie is exaggerating.”

Your pulled from your thoughts with a look of relief.

“It’s just the smell of burning flesh, now no more talk, let’s try to have a peaceful breakfast.” He calmly states as he picks up his folk and knife unbothered.

WHAT!?!

.

.

The school hours passed by rather quick, you couldn’t help but to wonder, why in the hell did the outer limits smell of burning flesh? Was it like the bible stated, sinners burned in hell? All day your thoughts were plagued by this. When you ran into Simeon and Luke on your way out of school, they too were granted another year to study. Which was strange Luke couldn’t wait to go back to the celestial realm? Another year?

“Hey, you guys got a moment?” You didn’t mean to sound pathetic but your voice came off almost non-coherent.

“Y/N dear, what’s the matter?” Simeon gently caresses your cheek, “You look pale, has something happened?”

Head shaking side to side, before turning into a nod, “No not really, it’s more about what’s going to happen. This trip our class is going on later this week, the outer limits…. I was told of the smell…” Your voice getting quieter and quieter.

“Ah, you’re wondering why it smells of burning flesh? Luckily you were told before going, at least you can prepare yourself for it.” Luke pipes up beside Simeon, shaking his head in thought.

Nodding, “Yes, why exactly?”

“To be frank, we don’t ‘exactly’ know ourselves, this whole place has a variety of smells. The out skirts of the city are forbidden to even us, unless granted otherwise. It’s dangerous, If I were to give an educated guess, I assume hells fire. Creatures out there getting to close? Like moths to a flame.” Simeon grabs his chin, looking down to the floor.

Is that it? Guess I’ll have to ask one of the brothers, they might know; you think. “Hm, okay thanx a bunch. I better be going; I’m supposed to meet Mammon and Levi at the gates.” You turned and left.

.

“You’re not going to tell her?” Luke looks up at Simeon.

“No, didn’t you see her face? Its best if she didn’t know…” Simeon watching as your figure disappears.

.

.

“Where have you been, keeping me waiting with this scum.” You were approaching the gates of the school when Levi walked up to you.

“Sorry, I bumped into Simeon and Luke on the way.”

“The goodie two-shoes and the chihuahua, and stop calling me scum, I’m your older brother. Show me some damn respect.” Mammon joins, walking on the other side of you.

You debated bringing up the question but failed to, Levi was going on about another anime Solomon suggested. Mammon ridiculing over how dumb amines are, maybe another time you thought. The walk home was noisy but good, kept you from overthinking.

.

.

Days went quick, before you knew, it was the morning of the school trip. Oh shit, and you failed to find out, why?! Frantically getting ready in your room, it was like you didn’t even know your own room. Couldn’t find anything you needed, and even better, a bad hair day. Great way to start your day.

Just as you were rushing around the room, a light knock at the door caught your attention, “Come in!”

Lucifer appeared, “Y/N, breakfast was ready 19 minutes and 3 – no, now 4 seconds ago. Why are you not down yet? It’s going to be cold at this…” He scanned you over and sighed. “Your nervous about todays events? Don’t be, there’s no need to concern yourself with things you can not control. Here...” In his hands a small tin. “These are a special devildom coffee bean, open the tin and hold it under your nose if the smell today becomes a bit too much.”

You accepted and cracked open the tin, the smell was pleasant and strong. The smell exploded into your room, let alone your nostrils. “Thank you, Lucifer, how did you know?”

He slightly chuckles and ruffles your hair, “You look like a ‘hot mess’.”

“Hot you say?” Giving him your best flirty smile.

“Yes, but you seemed to have ignored the mess part. Now, quickly go brush your hair and straighten your uniform. Breakfast and then school, no more stalling.” Shutting you down and exiting with a shake of his head.

The tin was a nice thought, and he called you hot. Yes, you heard that right. Ha, ha, today worries seemed like yesterdays, you felt much better after Lucifer’s visit.

.

The trip towards the limits was full of chatter, Asmo sat behind you and Satan on the bus. Leaning over the top of the seat and filling in the silence with conversation. You subconsciously found yourself tapping the tin in the pocket of your uniform.

“Watcha got there?!” Asmo points. Satan’s attention follows the direction of Asmo’s finger.

“Lucifer gave me some coffee beans, to help deal with the smell.” You pulled the tin out and gave a gentle shake.

“Wow, that ass hat actually gave a damn about some one else rather then Diavolo.” Satan says with a scowl on his face. “is hell freezing over?”

Asmo and you slightly giggle, Satan’s calm persona really clashed with his temper. One would think he was a Gemini, hard to believe he was a Libra.

The bus stopped at its destination, after the class head gave a simple and short instruction, off you two went.

When they said barren waste land, you imagined nothing but rock for miles. No, the sky was dark shades of red, green and blues. There were trees, or dead ones anyway, every hundred yards; scattered about. Far and in between the trees and nothingness, was pits of crimson flames. The ground was a peculiar orange/brown colour, unlike the dirt at home, this felt of sandpaper. Near trees, and the pits you seen giant cliffs of rock. Minus the burning souls and demons dancing around with pitch forks, this was the perfect envision of what you were told hell looked like. Nothing like the realm of Devildom, which actually deemed lively and civilized.

The smell was overbearingly grotesque, is this the smell of burning flesh? You wanted to vomit; the tin of coffee though did help. Satan joked about shoving a couple of the beans up your nose to stop you from the dry heaving, every time you caught your breath.

You thought seriously about what he joked, anything to help with the smell.

So, you did.

Satan was first stunned and then fell to his knees in a fit of laughter. “You really are something else, Y/N”

You honestly couldn’t care how stupid you looked, at least the smell wasn’t so strong. You walked along the areas permitted, examining and collecting rocks and soil samples. When in the distance you swore you heard voices. You scanned the lands before you, nothing, you were about to return to collecting.

“Can you hear me?”

There it was again! The voices, were more of a voice, over laced like an echo.

“Satan, can you hear that?” You scoot closer to him crouched nearby.

“Hear what?” He asks not even looking from the rock and book in hand.

Maybe you were freaking yourself out, I mean there’s nothing out here.

**FLASHBACK** Hadn’t Belphie contacted me similar before? No, there’s definitely something out here with us.

“Satan, I think we should make our way back to the group.” Not breaking eye contact with the eerie terrain ahead.

“Yea, we just need a fire toads pebble. They’re usually found near the cliffs, just there. Come on.” Seemingly ignoring your warning, he grabs your hand and walks towards the cliffs which seemed soooooo far away from were you wanted to be right now.

“Can you hear me?”

No, no, no. The further out you two walked the louder the voice seemed.

“Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm my dear~.”

Just like that, the anxiety that was growing was gone, like a spell had been casted over you. You looked around again, nothing.

Who are you?? You thought to yourself.

“Who am I? There are many things here my dear, I am just one of many...” it replied to your thought! The voice sounded soft, calming and cooing.

Finally feeling at ease, your feet started to walk on their own accord. Straight out towards one of the pits, Satan quickly grabbed your arm, breaking you out of your trance. “Yo, best not wonder, remember?”

Shaking your head, “Right, got the pebble?”

“Yea, thanx for all the help by the way.” He sarcastically counters.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not used to… well this” You gesture your hands around.

“It’s fine, but you’re not using that same excuse too when it comes to writing the paper, just so you know.” He smiles as he drags you back to the bus.

.

.

Back at the house, you stripped from your uniform and ran yourself a bath. Asmo was right, it was going to take some time to rid yourselves of the smell.

You slumped into the warm, lavender scented water.

“Can you hear me?”

You bolted straight up, covering your chest and rapidly looking around your bathroom. Again? But how?

“It’s alright, don’t be alarmed, my name is Daz.”

“I don’t mean to come off as rude ‘Daz’, but I’m a little busy at the moment could you possibly not!” You spoke out loud, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. It sounded right by your ear.

A knock at your door. “Yo, Y/N? You alright in there? Who are you talking too?” Mammon’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“No-one, go away! I’m bathing!” You quickly slump back into the water.

“Weirdo, your hanging out with Levi too much, starting to talk to yourself now too!” Banging on your door before exiting your room.

“Why didn’t you tell him my dear?”

You closed your eyes and whispered, “Look, I’ve seen and experienced a lot of weird things here. Today being no different, go away, id like to bath in peace.”

The voice did not respond, thank god! You took your time bathing, trying to unwind, accidentally falling asleep.

** The dream started off back at the bus, that same voice, echoing.

-          Can you hear me?

You turned around and found you were all alone, no one on the bus. No driver, no classmates, just you.

-          It’s alright don’t be afraid.

Your attention drawn to what looked like a trail of grey light, leading out into the barren land… You followed it.

-          That’s right, come to me. I’m alone, I could use a friend, just like you. The voice seemingly getting louder by a few nots.

You ask, - Daz? That you?

-          Yes dear, I am here, or near I should say.

 -          Daz, where are you, or who are you sorry?

 -          I’m a soul dear, but I’m afraid I need your help. I’m stuck.

 -          Stuck? Where, why can’t I see you?

 -          Keep coming my dear, you’ll see.

The trail ended near a cliff drop, you had never been here before but yet it felt familiar to you.

-          Daz? Where am I?

 -          You’re here.

 -          Here?

 -          Yes, look over, I’m here.

You glanced around and found a huge boulder, engraved into the stone a large black bird? Finely detailed, behind the black bird was a ring of flames, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You reached out to touch the mark, and in that moment a loud and powerful voice boomed like thunder –

DON’T!!!! *****

You woke from your dream startled, sitting in now cold water. Shivering you step out and wrap yourself with a towel, glancing at the time.

3 Hours, you’d fallen asleep for 3 hours?!

Luckily you didn’t drown, quickly getting dressed, you decided to go seek out one of the brothers. Any of the brothers, this feeling and this dream really had you bothered.

Wasn’t hard to find anyone though, you could hear banter back and forth ringing from the kitchen. You approached the doorway, and pushed open the swing door. Mammon, Beel and Belphie were chattering and cooking. Upon entering they all glanced your way and froze.

“Oh my, are you alright!” Belphie asked with eyes as if he’d seen a ghost.

Mammon rushed to you next and placed his hands on each side of your cheeks, “By Diavolo! Y/N, you’re ice cold and your lips are practically blue. Did you fall asleep in the tub after I left?” He whipped off his sweater and draped it on your shoulders.

“I’ll make you tea.” Beel turned to put the kettle on, Belphie eyeing you suspiciously.

You wanted to speak, but felt as if you couldn’t. Even though you slept 3 hours, you felt so tired, too tired to even speak. Mammon guided you to a stool next to the counter, you sat and nuzzled into his sweater. Mammon lectured you on how easily you could have died, during which you could feel Belphie’s eyes staring into you.

As if he could sense what was going on, “Y/N, speak.”

You looked at him and tried.

Nothing.

The three of them looked at you in shock. “You can’t speak, can you?” Belphie reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, you didn’t understand why, as if your voice was gone. You felt this overbearing weight in your chest when you tried, a force stealing away your energy.

Belphie barked out, “I’ll get Lucifer.” He scurried out of the kitchen. Beel and Mammon gave each other a look, before Mammon said he’d take you back to your room for rest.

Not long after, Lucifer, Belphie and Satan appeared in your room. Lucifer was given a quick run up about the trip today, Mammon explained you falling asleep. You couldn’t even tell them about the voice, about Daz or the dream. You watched helplessly, shaking and nodding when prompted with questions. When an idea popped into your mind, you tried to get up to get paper and pen.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there crazy lady, you’re obviously sick. Stay in bed” Mammon tries to push you back. You shake your head and point to the direction of your desk; Satan catches on and retrieves a notebook and a pen.

You summarized everything they spoke about only including, the voice, Daz, the dream, and the marking followed by yet another more powerful voice. You ended the page with how you believe its related to how your feeling. Then handed it to Lucifer, he immediately began reading it. His face hard to read, until.

“Who’s Daz and…...” His eyebrows knit together; face plastered in anger. “I need to speak to Diavolo immediately! You are all to watch over Y/N, I will send a medic.” Then he was gone, he took the notebook with him.

“What the hell was that all about?” Mammon observes.

“Y/N, this has something to do with the voice you mentioned today isn’t in?” Satan looks at you pitifully.

You nod your head.

“Wait, were you talking to this said voice earlier when I came to your room?!” Mammon grabbed a hold of your shoulders and gave you a shake. Belphie silently pulled Mammon from you, still looking over quietly.

You nodded again; silence followed, everyone looked to be thinking about something.

“I think its best we take turns watching over Y/N until Lucifer gets back, and Y/N if you hear that voice again, be sure to say… or write, sorry….” Satan reaches out and places a hand atop of your head.

You closed your eyes, was this a dangerous soul? What was with that dream, why was Lucifer so angry then?

You began to ponder; you should write your own ‘Guide for Dummies’, what to do and what not to do. Would save future students or visitors from all the troubles you seemed to have always found yourself in.

.

.

A medic came to the house along with Solomon, Simeon and Luke. Everyone was whispering outside your door, only you, the medic and Satan remained in your room. After a thorough assessment the medic gestured Satan to follow him outside. Solomon, Simeon and Luke entered.

“Oh Y/N, we’ve heard, I’m sorry you’re not well.” Solomon places a get-well card at your side table, along with a fruit basket.

Simeon takes a seat next to you on your bed, “Whatever happens, just know you are safe. They are watching.” He takes your hand, cold, oh so cold.

They? Who are they? You wonder.

“Liars, all liars, so many secrets... This is not my doing my dear, do believe me.”

Your hand grips Simeon’s tightly, Luke and Simeon exchange stares. Luke opens the door and ushers one of the brothers in, Belphie. He grabs another notebook and pen and places it before you. As you write, a striking headache befalls you, enabling you from finishing. All you could write was, ‘He’s sayin-‘, the medic rushing in next, using weird tools and gadgets around your head.

“How strange, I can not detect any black magic, or any sorts of soul tampering.” The medic removes the tool from your chest, and turns to the others. “I need to report back to Diavolo with these results.”

You pick up the pen with what little strength you have, ‘what’s going on?’ and place it for Simeon to take. He gently graces your hand before taking the note, “It’s going to be alright; I promise.” He said no more and left, Luke following close.

Answers you just wanted answers.

“You won’t get answers, can’t see you the secrets before you”

You closed your eyes, and decided to speak to the voice, the only one who answered to your questions. – what do you want?

“Answers, and Justice. Just. Like. YOU.”

Daz? Is that even your name? What justice?

“I’m known by many names, but Daz is fine for now. Free me, I was wrongly imprisoned… Diavolo is a liar, his father is a liar, THEY’RE ALL LIARS! Free me, and I will help you dear. Anything you want. Help me, help you.”

Next thing you knew everything went quiet. Everything was dark.

You saw visions of black and white lights vigorously smashing one another, then a great light illuminated. You felt weak, a fading feeling, cries… you heard sobbing. You saw Belphie and Beel, only briefly, then another figure. He had blue hair, a uniform of white and gold. An angel? No, he felt much stronger than the presence Simeon and Luke gave off. The figure turned to you, holding one of the lights in his eyes in hand, the other spilling over with tears. -          Who are you? “It will all be alright, my love...” He said this and reached out his free hand.

In that split second, your eyes opened. As your head cleared, you felt increasingly better.

“You’re awake!”  Asmo jumped on the bed peppering you in kisses.

“I’m fine.”

YOU SPOKE! You looked at Asmo, I have a voice again!!

“Yayy, that pretty little voice of yours is back.” Wrapping you in a hug. “Best not over do it though, we don’t quite know why or how. As much as we like to hear it, let’s not push it.” Tapping the sides of your arms.

You agreed, and slowly got up, even your energy was coming back too.

After a quick wash up, a meeting was held. Diavolo had ordered Lucifer to keep you home for the time being, each one of the brothers had a privilege duty to stay home with you throughout the week. Taking turns each day, today you had Asmo, he didn’t mind either of the latter. Lucifer collected study materials and notes for you to be occupied with, and instructed you not to communicate with the voice in your head.

“Why, who is he, is he dangerous?” You just wanted answers.

“I can not discuss this with you. I’m sorry, just heed my order.” He gives you a stern look before turning and taking his leave as well.

“I told you”

You take a deep breath, and sit at a dining room table to work. Asmo was painting his nails opposite of you, chirping away about colour contrast and matching his outfits. His D.D.D rings and he leaves to take the call; you paid no attention. Mid reading, you heard Asmo scream, you darted from your seat and sprinted to the direction Asmo walked out of. As you passed through the doorway everything warped, you felt dizzy; falling to your knees. Sight moderately blurry, you forced yourself up and looked around.

You were no longer in the House of Lamentation.

You were standing on the out skirts of the city, in exactly the same spot in the dream, where the bus should have been. You looked around and seen a trail of footsteps heading into a direction, your foot prints. How? Was it not a dream? Or is this another dream…

“Y/N, you came.”

The voice returned, sounding sickly sweet.

But how? I was just at home.

“Home? How touching, do you think they care for you as Y/N? or perhaps they care about you because of Lillith.”

No, that’s not why… What he said stung a little, you wanted to deny it but apart of you festered. A part of you agreed.

“Come to me dear, help me, help you.”

You were off again, following the previous path you had set. Until you stood just before that very same boulder, with the very same marking from the dream. You reached out and touched it, no voices were heard.

The ground began to rumble, shaking with an earthquake force, the boulder before you began to crack.

“That’s it, just a little more!”

An image began to appear in your mind, a dark figure, with pitch black hair. Dark markings on his forehead and eyes, and a black robe covering his body. His skin was sickly pale and his voice churning from the calm and cooing state to dark and haunting one. He gave you a creepy smile and a blood curdling laugh, which pierced your body and soul like electric bolts of energy.  Some bolts began to curl and strangle within you, like a snake, strangling your organs of life. Fear took hold, spreading in your mind like wild fire.

Darkness embezzled you, “Lucifer! Satan! Beel? MAMMON?! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY!?!” You screamed their names for dear life while you fell into the abyss.

“Your life is now mine former goddess! I’m free at last, I will destroy all of you for placing me here! Foolish girl, don’t you know not to go talking to strangers!”

His face contorted, an even wickeder smile ripping into his higher cheeks, up to his ears.

How were you supposed to know though, the voice calling to you sounded, calming? Cooing you to obey and come, so you did.

How were you supposed to know, there wasn’t a sign saying do not touch!

How were you supposed to know, nobody told you anything!

You felt the life slowly leaving your body, death. This time there’s no going back. They didn’t come, no one’s saving me this time. So many secrets, so many lies.

With the last of your thoughts, the last of your hope.

Please, oh please, I wish this would end quickly.

Just as you accepted your fate, a blinding and powerful light engulfed the area.

Tears welled in your eyes, “You came, you guys actually came!”

….

As the light dimmed, and your vision cleared, 6 figures stood before you.

…..

Weakly, “Wait, who are you?”

“If we would have waited, you would have died filthy human.” The one with black hair styled a little like Lucifer’s spat out. He frightened you!

“Be kind Scorpy, can’t you see she’s been through hell, like literally! Ha-ha” The one with soft brown hair chummed in, like a happy child.

“Silly Goldie, were gods obviously.” This one who spoke had beautiful blonde hair, and flashed you a charming smile which caused your pulse to quicken.

Not exactly listening to what was being said, to engrossed in what they were wearing. They had on white uniforms with gold, some of white, gold and black. You scanned the men before you –

One stood out most, he seemed familiar, like you’d seen him before. The blue haired one from you vision! Your eyes widen, suddenly another light and a voice that followed.

“Welcome to Paradise Y/N, daughter of Man.” That same voice, the one that warned you like thunder, spooling across the sky.

You squinted your eyes to get a better look, he looked just like the wicked monster in black. Only he was not him, this man was surrounded by light, warm light. His hair long and almost a white gold, laying upon his head, a crown. Beautifully draped in white and gold attire, he was stunning, prettier than any man or woman alive.

“You flatter me child, but we are no mere man.” He didn’t speak out loud but replied directly to your thoughts, warm and inviting “We are gods.”

Gods? Oh, okay…

Wait.

GODS!?!?

That was the final straw, you had fainted. All your energy gone, the last of your strength exasperated from the crippling events.

To be continued….

CH2 - CH3 - CH4 - CH5

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