#thirteen men will die for this

[tricksterlatte]

Making memes for my own fanfic WIPs since they bring me joy. I’m so sorry, Akechi

[blackbeauty-bby]

[femgoddess-hecate]

"Why does misandry exist :(((( poor men omg they're human too they deserve happiness-" literally shut the fuck up. I'll believe misandry is real the day you can show me a feral child as well known and famous as Genie who was made that way by a woman.

Go on. Don't google your answer. You don't know any, right?

[askshivanulegacy]

For BEST WORST HAWKBAT: 3, 4, 9, 10, 12, 20, 27, 35, 41, 46, 47, 58, 63, 71, 81, 88, 89, 109, 119, 140, 151, 179, 173

3. Does your character prefer to work in silence or with noise and of what kind?

Thirteen likes to work with some level of mundane background noise, which is good because it's very difficult for him to escape all noise in his hawkbat forms. Soft electronics or machinery is nice, but so are nature sounds like birds, wind, or rain.

He sometimes plays random background noise just to annoy Five, and then intentionally falls asleep about it.

4. Has your character ever been handcuffed or tied up?

Oh yes, hehehe. 😏

9. Could your character win an arm wrestling competition? How well would they do?

Probably, unless the competitor is some inhumanly strong alien. Thirteen is tall and slightly lanky, but he has muscles like steel cords.

10. Would your character give up the chance to come back to life as a god so that someone else could be saved?

If Thirteen could come back to life as a god, his natural assumption is that he could simply bring the other person back. But really, he has no interest in being a god, just being powerful enough to do what he wants when he wants. So, if the other person is someone he cared about, he would be satisfied letting them come back instead. Of course, this doesn't apply to just any random person.

12. Would your character marry someone their family didn’t approve of?

Oh yes. There are only a few people whose opinions Thirteen cares about, and when it comes to marrying someone, he certainly isn't going to let anyone but himself decide. He hasn't consulted with his parents/family for anything in a long time, and they've learned to let him do what he wants. 

20. How self-confident is your characters?

100/10. 8)

27. Does your character know how to tie different kinds of knots?

Thirteen knows how to tie ALL the knots. Cipher training is about useful life skills after all. 8)

35. Naptime, yes or no?

ALL the naps. Thirteen likes fun as much as the next person, but also delicious, cozy sleep exists. Being a hawkbat consumes a lot of energy AND has lovely, lazy, animal naptimes built in.

41. Do other people around your character dictate their life or do they get to choose for themselves?

It's true that Five is both Thirteen's boss and Watcher, and he THINKS he dictates much of Thirteen's life while also giving him quite a bit of latitude. In reality, Thirteen is like a cat. He has ALL the latitude, because Five still has all the guilt from the flagpole incident, and also Thirteen has ten doctorates in Five Management and can maneuver his way to whatever outcome he wants. 

Except, possibly and more recently, for the Enter Stage Right of his new Sith patron, which he doesn't quite know what to do with yet. But he's trying really hard. 8)

46. Does your character prefer to lead or follow?

Neither of the sort. Thirteen knows when he's the expert in something, and is quite content to take the lead at those times. However, he'd much rather act totally independently or in partnership. He does his own thing.

There are exactly TWO people he would follow, however, and one of them is his boss.

47. Has your character ever stolen anything?

Yes. Thirteen casually shoplifts the most obnoxious items for fun, but also voluntarily pays the most obnoxious prices for the most obnoxious items, for an equal amount of fun. 

58. Does your character prefer the ocean or the mountains?

The OCEAN. It may be inconsistent with his hawkbat nature, but he finds it calming and beautiful and unpredictable.

63. How far would your character go to help those in need?

Not far. If it's SUPER convenient and he can spend a boatload of Five's money on it, he might do it for fun. If he feels obligated or responsible in some way, he might orchestrate a path forward for whoever needs help, and he expects them to put in their own work. But just generic charity is not something he does or cares about. Part of this might be his Imperial upbringing, but part is definitely himself. He has other things to do.

71. How good is your character at reading people and navigating social situations?

EXTREMELY. This is literally what Thirteen does. Every day. In his personal life. For his job. This is Thirteen boiled down to the basics except maybe when it comes to love. 8)

81. Does your character look like what others think they should from their reputation?

The pale, platinum hair, green eyes, and rather tall and lanky build is probably not what people expect when they hear about Five's best Cipher, or the "lead" of Five's Avengers. They probably also have zero concept of the supreme monster a were-hawkbat actually is.

That's the way Thirteen likes it, positive surprises all around, for everybody!

88. Are any of your characters part of a spy network?

I mean yes ofc. 8)

89. Would your character throw themselves in harms way to protect a loved one?

Yes. With a very real expectation of negating the harm, but yes.

109. Would your character blackmail a god?

Sounds like fun. Thirteen has probably enacted Five's blackmailing. 8)

119. If someone made a statue of your character, what would it look like?

There is already definitely at least one (1) very naked statue of Thirteen in all his glory, like a Greek god of passion, in Five's estate, and the person who had it made is Thirteen. 8)

There is also definitely a monster hawkbat statue, and Five had that one made. 8)

140. Can your character play an instruments?

If there was ever a band AU, or if Thirteen started a band, he would be the lead singer. But I can see him being reasonably proficient in a number of instruments, like piano, violin, and something like a flute or panpipes. He probably had training along those lines, primarily dictated by his family, before joining Intel.

151. Would your character ever go cliff diving?

If you count diving off the Kaas City skyscrapers, he's already been. XD Also, as a hawkbat, it's literally what he's made to do.

THERE IS NO 179 D:

173: How loyal is your character?

Very. Thirteen can't conceive of ever betraying the few people in his life he cares about. 

They take priority over the Empire, though at this point, Thirteen can't conceive of actually defecting from the Empire.

[eggyrocks]

☆ on repeat ☆ t. kageyama smau

⋆｡°✩in which yn just got out of a bad breakup, and the only thing helping her is this one song on repeat ⋆｡°✩

divider credits to plutism

main masterlist

tags: tobio kageyama x f!reader, university au, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: foul language, gross jokes, sexual jokes, conflict, violence, cringe; everyone probably will be out of character, please note warnings may change as story progresses, and to check each chapter for individual warnings

rules: blank blogs will be blocked !! minors dni

taglist: closed

[ignore all time stamps]

status: complete

pinterest board by @garden-of-bri

yn style guide

introductions: oh my god they were roommates | roommates to lovers

part one: is she hot part two: body shots [✐] part three: pathetic men part four: girl time part five: blood oath part six: breakfast part seven: bed bugs part eight: my bisexual prince part nine: linked up part ten: tsukkinoyahinyamyn [✐] part eleven: something shifted part twelve: a bet part thirteen: weird and serious part fourteen: antonios part fifteen: bothered. unmoisturized. anxious. part sixteen: toothpaste and iodine [✐] part seventeen: okay i love you part eighteen: mini epilogue

daily click for palestine 🇵🇸

moodboard/description for on repeat from @causenessus

"the actual definition of domesticity. just pure love. definitely love languages are in this aesthetic. i'm getting a lot of gift giving vibes. BUT AGAIN DOMESTICITY!! just kageyama being in love and a sucker for y/n. he's behind her at every moment in case she needs anything, holding her bags for her and always there to be a scary guard dog to anyone looking despite being a sweetheart and melting the moment y/n is looking at him or asking something. the kind of people who would both come up to a grandma and help her cross the street or carry things for her <3 they're happy as long as they're together. they remind me of this one video i've had saved for years in my phones that goes along the lines of "when you're a kid you think your parents are soulmates. my kids are going to be right about that." (ik that isn't always applicabale to family dynamics like i would rather die than have kids but i personally think it's even more impactful thinking about it as "my parents were so messed up but i'm going to meet my soulmate. i'm going to be with someone that people see us together and think that we're soulmates. i'm going to find someone that loves me.") songs that come to mind are the cuco's wannabewithu and songs4u albums but also work song simply bc of how lovesick it is and loverboy"

[stillfacingthesky]

being trans is such a mindfuck. nobody knows who i am. i dont need to come out, im fine as i am. i hide behind my clothes. i dont recognise myself in the mirror. i dont know if i ever will. i want to transition. im scared of change. i want to be seen and known. i am in danger. queer joy is beautiful. i am more open than a queer person used to be able to be. someone like me was murdered yesterday. i saw their face on the news, and the reporter used the wrong name. wearing mens’ clothes brings me joy, and the joy is reminiscent of a little girl. i want to be pretty. my skin doesnt fit and my voice is not mine. im scared i might love my father more. i dont need to come out, i can manage this all. im going to die someday anyway, it wont matter. a kid was staring at me in the bookstore today and i saw my past in their eyes. i wonder if they saw their future in mine. i want to be someones boyfriend. i am my brothers sister. all bodies are beautiful except mine. god created grapes but not wine and wheat but not bread. god hates fags. there is something wrong with me. if i ignore it, itll go away. its not going away. it hasnt gone away in seven years. i dont want to be a stereotype. i love brash vulgarity. my mother thinks i am beautiful. i share her face. i know ill regret it if i never come out. i dont want to waste my life wearing a costume. i dont know if i want to sacrifice the life that ive had for the life i could have. someone out there understands me. someone else would kill me without regret. someone would cry if i was gone. someone would praise my killer as a hero. there are photos and illustrations of people like me in the past. our history has been erased. theyre still trying to erase us. i dont know if the present is worth the future. i want to be happy. i dont feel like i deserve it. ‘female’ leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. ‘woman’ makes me see stars. i am one but not the other. i am the ghost of the person i want to be. i encourage others and love them regardless. i am a hypocrite. ive been in hiding since i was thirteen. i want to be loud. my mother spent nine months creating me. i will spend the rest of my life creating myself. i am scared. i am angry. i am beautiful and sickening and i want to rip my skin apart to make space for something new. my rage is glorious. they will never understand. i do not need them to. i am so lonely. i am an artist and i want to be a masterpiece. they call my creation mutilation. i dont want to make my parents sad. i want my brother to like me. i am visibly queer. that man shouted at me to smile because he was treating me like a woman. what i have right now is enough. i want more. i don’t know if ill ever have it. if i die tomorrow, i will be buried in a dress. it will be a dress that is already in my closet, a pretty dress that i havent worn in years.

[k-atsukibakugou]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞?

what's your favourite scary movie? | k. bakugou— k-atsukibakugou

finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader w/c: 4.9k warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b notes: HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEEEEEN this is sorta inspired by @katsukikitten's post and um i have no explanation for this i was possessed by that post n my fat crush on katsuki and I KNOW scream came out in 1996 imagine the timelines line up lmao crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • recent wips & updates • kofi • askbox

“pleaaaase?” you’re too aware you’re whining, your bottom lip stuck out in a pout, probably only one more emotionless denial away from getting on your hands and knees and begging the stoic hero, “i’ll owe you? i'll do anything you want!”

you caught the mischievous sparkle in his eye at your promise, dropping your head in desperation to your hands still clamped together like you were praying, one final time, you pleaded, “please? it’s the thirty-year-anniversary re-release! i can't miss it!”

bakugou made a sound like he was thinking over your request, eyes glancing between the two tickets in your hand, the blood red title printed at the top calling his name, and your pleading eyes, a gravelly hum low in his throat. his mind had been made up since you asked, already planning on watching the theatrical re-release, it was just his luck your favourite horror movie was his, too. but he didn’t plan on telling you that quite yet, revelling in your desperation after a third rejection; eijirou too scared of a slasher, denki already having plans for a different night, and sero scheduled to patrol.

“you’ll do anything i want just for a movie?” his voice was mildly condescending, but the twitch in his lips had you rolling your eyes and crossing your arms like a grumpy child bargaining with a guardian, “if that’s what it takes!”

exasperated, you throw your head back with a groan, about to turn to him and announce your forfeit when he beats you to it, pinching the extra ticket from your hand, a satisfied smirk painted on his lips, “i’ll pick you up friday night, ya owe me one.”

katsuki walked away without even waiting for your response, leaving you simultaneously frustrated at your friends toying with you, and cheering at finally having found someone to join you.

punctual as always in his adult years, katsuki was outside your door friday night half an hour earlier than when you told him to drop by and get you, fists banging on your door while you were still tugging your skirt over your hips, just getting the zipper up when you swung the door open, already growling at your friend standing in the doorway in front of you, “i heard the first thirteen times you knocked.”

you toyed with the hem of your shirt, stepping aside to let him inside, promptly looking him up and down to admire the casual outfit he wore, far different from the hero costume you were used to seeing on him, the simple black cotton stretching over his broad chest somehow emphasising the muscles there more than the tight costume. there was a hint of a necklace underneath the collar of the shirt, the thin line of silver glinting under the lowlights of your hallway, similar jewellery on three of his fingers, and his blond locks sitting normally, spiked up around his head, his undercut leaving his ears free to show off the handful of piercings there. glancing back up, your eyes locked on his glinting ruby eyes, already watching you drink him in, the eye contact only breaking when he tapped his heavy boots on the floor just inside your door, “quit whining, how long are ya gonna be?”

you rolled your eyes at his impatience, waving him off while fixing your hair in your reflection in the glass beside the door, “give me two minutes.”

you flitted back up the hallway, swift and silent as he was used to seeing you be, leaving him beside the door to take a glimpse around your living room, taking in the little plush ghostface sat front and centre on your couch, blood red felt stitched over its soft knife, a stack of novels beside the couch, a few titles he recognised as classics, and more horror novels he knew nestled between scattered romance titles. he heard a few more heavy bumps from your bedroom, just out of his view before you emerged once more, in a tight shirt, gorey graphic printed in the middle, a sweater thrown over your arm and boots looped in your fingers, a cute garnet charm dangling off the back of each loop of fabric, “you want me to fill up your car?”

your question had his eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “the fuck are you on about?”

“to repay you?” you asked dumbly, stepping closer to place your key in the lock, clicking it locked once your tall friend ducked under it and stepped outside onto the driveway. he sucked his teeth disapprovingly, unlocking his car with you bounding over to the passenger side, jumping into the seat to wiggle your boots onto your feet, he only dignified you with a response once he was seated on the dark leather, huffing out a grumpy, but demanding, “you’re not payin’,”

reversing from your driveway, he interrupted when you opened your mouth to argue back, “besides, i haven’t decided what i want from ya yet,” katsuki smirked at you, vermillion eyes darting from his rear view mirror to you when he propped his arm behind your headrest to make sure the road was clear, speaking again with all your focus studying the way his lips moved with every low syllable, “it’s more fun keepin’ you in suspense.”

head dropping from the clouds, you glared at him, unsure if you were more annoyed at his self assured grin or yourself for throbbing from it, leaning down to tie the lace of your boots, “fine, last time i'm offering though.”

katsuki shook his head, exiting onto the road towards the cinema, ending the conversation there, and leaving you both to settle into a comfortable air, sometimes dropping into silence, sometimes a casual conversation about your hero work until you reached the quiet theatre, arriving with plenty of time to spare before your screening. the lot was dead, nowhere near as busy as you expected it to be, katsuki parking with no one else beside him for at least twenty feet in each direction.

locking his car, you both made your way inside, side by side through the glass doors of the cinema, decorated for today with original posters, thin black fabric on the walls, the doors spattered with dark red fake blood, even the employee checking tickets adorning a flimsy ghostface mask. you were practically buzzing with excitement, squeezing his forearm when you saw the guy ahead, handing your ticket over for him to scan. the corner of his lip twitched in a grin, never seeing you geek out quite so much like you were right now, your eyes shining with excitement right up until he turned to face the fabric screen playing static.

the static soon faded into the production logos, and finally, the title screen; scream. you were vibrating in your seat, eyes glued to the screen so much you hardly had any of the popcorn he’d got for you both to share, only occasionally did you reach for the cup to take large sips, all without tearing your eyes from the screen. katsuki was even beginning to question the last time you blinked.

gradually, as the movie went on, he noticed your minute squirming more and more, first dismissing it as discomfort from sitting in the one spot too long, but the longer he fixated on you, the more he noticed your inability to remain still, your legs crossing and uncrossing every five minutes. your clothes rubbed against the fabric of the chair with every wriggle, the rustling having him observe you from the corner of his eye more than he watched the final act, deep red irises catching you swipe your tongue across your lips, your sparkling eyes darting around the screen, your black skirt doing nothing to hide the way your thighs were pressed tightly together.

your wide pupils reflected the carmine on the screen, heart eyes locked on the blood spattered slashers on the screen, your ears blocking out the monologue to focus entirely on the villain’s bloody face, lips just parting to release a short puff of breath you didn’t know you were holding in your heaving chest.

realising he was staring, katsuki clenched his sharp jaw and focused back on the crescendo of the third act, trying to ignore the way you kept writhing right up until the credits were rolling. you stayed fixated, entranced, for a minute longer, unable to hide your smile when the lights slowly turned back up, illuminating your shiny, plump lips and your hungry eyes. without wasting another second you started gushing over the movie without looking at katsuki, half of your words running into the next without so much as a breath between them, sounding more like the obsessive deku the longer you prattled on about the characters and theories.

you were still chatting his ear off when you both made your way down the carpeted stairs towards the exit, past the decorations and blood splatter once more, out of the dead theatre, spotting only one or two employees left cleaning counters and floor as you left, their costume discarded on the counter as they swept.

exiting into the night, a gentle icy wind blew through your body, making a shiver wrack your body. you gripped katsuki's wrist to drag him faster to his car, desperate to retrieve your forgotten sweater from underneath the passenger seat before your lips turned blue. your tugging did little to change his pace, his heavy boots stomping along the paved car park, illuminated only by the moon and a singular lit lamppost just outside the cinemas doors, his car shrouded in the darkness of the night, alone in the lot.

chirping as it unlocked, you swung the door open immediately, digging around under the passenger seat where you knew you’d dropped the sweater, not paying attention to your friend climbing into the driver's seat beside you, still rummaging around under the seat when he made a disapproving sound. finally getting hold of the soft fabric of the sweater, you pulled it from under the seat, and into your lap to untangle the sleeves of it while eyeing katsuki, catching the signature scowl gracing his lips, although this one seemed tinged with confusion, tongue clicking against his teeth as the dashboard made a beeping sound once more before it turned dark. you watched him try it once more with a frustrated curse, “useless fucking thing.”

you pulled the sweater over your head, confusion painted on your face now, too, as you watched him reach under the steering wheel to click the lock for the metal bonnet.

“what’s going on?” curiously, you leaned over to peer at the dashboard with him, watching his nimble fingers unbuckle his seatbelt and climb from the car.

“‘m not sure yet, battery might be dead.” he grunted, closing the driver's door to go around the front of the car. you watched him through the pristine windshield until he was blocked by the bonnet being lifted and locked up into place. you followed suit, meeting him around the front, scarlet eyes darted around the metal and tubes and batteries, a muscular arm flexing when he squeezed the metal in frustration, swearing once more.

“shit, i’ll need to call for a jump.” you watched him think, sadly studying the battery that was ruining your plans with your bottom bedside drawer. “oh.”

“wait in the car, i’ll call ei to come help us.'' without question, you nod, studying the way he leaned back on the car, pulling up the number pad, rapidly typing in both of your closest friends' number. sparing one last glance up at him, you caught the unreadable look on katsuki’s face, an expression of his you’d never seen before, crimson eyes glaring down at the technology in front of him.

climbing once more into the car, you relaxed as much as you could into the seat, slipping your heavy boots off your feet with your body thrumming, no way to sit comfortably with the way your pussy throbbed against the seam of your panties, your hips jolting forward whenever you sat a certain way, the slashers bloody ghost mask imprinted behind your eyelids each time you blinked. your cheeks were hot, embarrassed to be so desperate from a movie, but still praying eijirou would rush to save you both to solve katsuki’s problem and let you get home to fix yours.

you squirmed in the seat, your skin hot on the leather while you eyed the dark streets, hope growing in you with every car that drove down the street, only to be crushed when they continued past the cinema. waiting for a moment longer with quivering thighs squeezed together, you finally huffed and opened the passenger door, “katsuki? did he answer?”

a beat went by, nothing responded to you except the soft chirp of crickets nestled in the dark of the greenery sprinkled around.

“katsuki?” you repeated, your voice a bit louder, and still you heard nothing back, the silence interrupted by the vibrating of your phone.

left all alone, sweetheart? 12:41am

you reread the text from the unknown number with your heart in your throat, nervously watching a typing bubble pop up beneath it.

you climbed off the seat warmed by your body to take on the cool night in search for your silent friend, the skin of your thighs erupting in goosebumps the moment your light feet landed on the ground, wrapping tingling arms around your torso, you attempted to rationalise while you watched the bubble disappear. rounding the front of the car, you scanned the space in front of the car, expecting to see the hulking blond standing there, ready to jump out and scare you, instead, the spot was empty, not a trace he’d even been there to begin with.

brave little hero. you’re not the type to run headfirst into danger.12:42am

let’s play a game, see if you can win him back, sweetheart. 12:42am

your breath was knocked from your chest reading the text, your heartbeat deafening when you choked out his name once more, your tone painted with worry.

“i swear to god, if this is a joke i'll make sure no one hears from you ever again.” shivering, and not from the cold, your voice shook, wide eyes not conveying the threatening aura you were trying to achieve, nor your entire trust in this only being a joke.

and if you get an answer wrong i’ll make sure no one finds you. 12:42am

your blood ran cold feeling the phone buzz again, your face still shamefully warm when your cunt throbbed at the threat, fear and need settling in the pit of your stomach. sucking in a breath, you shouted at nothing, “fine!”

you’ll be a good final girl. 12:43am

if you’re smart about it. 12:43am

you crept around the car silently, sticking close by the lifted hood to scan the darkness around you, sneaking around the side to get back inside the car, desperate to get back to safety, wanting to think this through, to be smart about getting katsuki back by your side. seeing no one, you darted for the driver’s side door, tugging on the smooth handle with trembling hands, the lock unlatching only for a moment before being shoved shut once more with a strong, scarred hand planted on the window, causing you to squeal in surprise when the door slammed with a thud.

“wrong move, final girl,” his deep voice whispered in your ear, feeling like it was echoing all around you, his free hand clamping around your hip to keep your weak legs upright. your stalker smiled into your hair, ego swelling at how easily he had you worked up from a few threatening texts, “how wet are you right now?”

katsuki rasped, voice impossibly deeper, his nose bumping your temple when he spoke. heat flushed through your body, embarrassment pooling in your stomach, only adding to the drippiness of your needy pussy.

“what?”

“what?” he mocked, “you think i wouldn’t notice you humpin the fuckin air in there? what was it, sweetheart? the blood, or the fear?”

sharp teeth emphasised his final question, canines catching on your sensitive lobe, his hand tightening around your hip, pinning you hard between his thick chest and tumid car.

“i don't have any idea what youre talking about.” your voice was an uneven, unconvincing murmur, your breath fogging on the window in front of your face, blurring your view of him, bar a sliver of the cherry-red of his irises reflecting back at you. you felt the fervid heat of his eyes on yours as if there wasn’t a single obstacle between you and him, the burn of his gaze dropping down to your lips when you surrendered a shuddering breath.

“you don’t?” you shook your head, barely disturbing the air around you, more shy than you ever had been since knowing him, “that didn’t turn you on at all?”

you shook your head once more, your gaze averting to the ground beneath your feet, suddenly interested in the shine of the lamplight on his boots instead of his interrogating, knowing he already knew the answers to every question he asked you.

his calloused fingertips ran up your plush, pillowy thighs, blunt fingernails digging in at the peak, a mere inch away from your dripping core, “c’mon, final girl, tell the truth, and i’ll stop.”

he got impossibly closer, crowding over you with a thick forearm sliding around your waist, settling in where he remained still, the hairs on the back of your neck standing when you felt his gentle breath there. your hips jerked forward into his biting nails, surely leaving half-moon indent in the soft skin underneath them. you felt his cocky smile in your hair when a low mewl reverberated in your throat, your bitten lips smothering the sound almost imperceptibly, “please, don’t stop.”

katsuki heard you, his ears so attuned to your voice, he’d hear you in a sea of half a million people, loud and clear. still, he let his fingers drop further away from where you needed him, incessant in his teasing, “what was that? “please stop”?”

his hold around you loosened, his boot disappearing from your view when he took a step back, this time it was your fingers digging into the skin of his forearm, pulling him close to you, “no, katsuki, please don’t stop.”

he didn’t need to hear a single word more from you, his cock already straining against his pants hearing your shaky voice beg only twice for him. he cursed again, his fingers gliding over your skin, not going to deny you, or himself, the pleasure of dipping his fingers into your sopping cunt.

a high pitched mewl escaped you when he swiped his thumb over your slit, the soaking fabric still separating you two doing nothing to weaken the pleasure his skilled fingers brought you, enough to have your hips bucking into his hold again. katsuki’s devilish laugh tickles the back of your neck, your eyelids becoming heavy with need filling your veins, adrenaline keeping your heart beating loudly in your ears, and lightning through your body when he finally slips his fingers under the waistband of your panties, hardened fingertips free to touch your core any way he desired. snaking his free hand up your body, katsuki brushed the hair from your neck, letting his hand rest slackly at the base of your throat, leaving the junction where your shoulder met your neck free for him to plant his lips there, sucking your skin into his mouth, bringing your blood as close to the surface of your skin as he could without a buck knife of his own. you crooned, warm body melting into the blond’s touch, stumbling back over your own feet when he slid his hand under your skirt to pull you back a foot by your hip, holding you hard to his chest, a thick, powerful arm holding you upright. your lustful eyes were trained on his hand when it abandoned its hold on your throat, committing every flaw, divot, vein and scar to memory while he yanked the shiny handle, shoving it further out of his way with his shoulder before he let you drop forward again; missing his strength to keep your goo-like legs holding you up, you stumbled forward into the car, catching yourself on the driver's seat with your forearms, a stammer forced from your chest when you landed on your palms. you peer over your shoulder at him with wild, hazy eyes, adjusting yourself up on your hands, his hot hands pushing down on the small of your back to keep you firmly against the leather before you get too comfortable, marvelling at the feel of your hammering heart against the soft seat.

katsuki’s hands at the nape of your neck and the small of your back forced you to arch your back further, your plush ass pressing back into him when he lifted your head a couple of inches off the material by your hair, eliciting a high-pitched gasp from you, “say it again.”

there wasn’t a trace of a request in his tone, it was a simple demand, accentuated by the large hand pressing down harder on your back, contorting your body in an uncomfortable pose you’d be relieved of the second he had your approval once more, your trembling figure entirely in control of him despite his incredible strength holding you down.

“i need you, ‘ki, don’t stop.” your head fell forward, your ass pushed back against his hard cock, your stammer breathless but clear when you spoke, your shining lips parting to moan lowly when he released your hair to tease your core again, deft fingers fucking into you again, deeper than they were before when he was focused on taking your attention from the stupid slasher on the screen inside. now his attention was turned to having your pussy clenching him as soon as possible.

the blond behind you groaned, feeling your tight cunt hug his digits, squeezing like you were trying to swallow him deeper and deeper, mesmerised by the way you took him, your blushing, wanton face already marking the soft material of the seat with your foundation and he wasn’t even close to being done toying with you. you were already soaking after the little he was giving you, the movie and now his teasing ministrations having you dripping, hole clenching in anticipation; unnecessary for him to continue pumping his fingers in and out of you other than for his own lewd entertainment, needing to commit the sight to memory in case it never happened again.

“keep talkin’ to me, final girl, you want me to stop?”

you shook your head, your face buried in the crook of your elbow and your back arching into his touch, a long moan escaping you, getting closer and closer to cumming around his fingers, lewd squelching echoing in the dark night.

“you want me to fuck you like this?”

“mhm!”

“you thinkin’ of me or that pathetic slasher, huh?” katsuki's fingers curled as he whispered, forcing a choked gasp from you, any answer slipping from your mind when his fingertips grazed that sensitive spot inside you, your brain going blank, your vision turning white.

colour returned to your vision far too quickly, your bleary eyes snapping open, staring behind you where katsuki stood tall, one hand still pressing down on your back but no other part of him touching you, his wet fingers at his mouth instead of inside your aching pussy, sucking the two into his mouth, smirking down at your shocked face, one eyebrow raising when your mouth bobbed open and shut noiselessly.

“you’re not gonna be thinking of that pitiful ghostface when i fuck you,” the moonlight shining behind him cast his menacing face in darkness, only his eyes and sharp canines glowing from the shadows when he spoke, voice deep and gravelly with his own desire, unable to deny himself your sweet cunt any longer. his dexterous fingers working the shining steel button on his pants undone while you beam up at him, entranced by his bared teeth, narrow scarlet eyes watching you, blond locks hanging over his face when his stare shifted down, lining himself up with your sloppy hole, “you’re gonna be thinking. of. me.”

he sunk into you, word by demanding word, inch by salacious inch, until your eyes were rolling back into your skull, cock moulding your throbbing, silken cunt to the shape of him. 

“katsukiiiii,” you panted, earning a sharp snap of his hips bumping your forward in the car across the seat, your soft sweater doing nothing but glide against the material, digging your fingernails into the soft leather, you tried to hold yourself still, an impossible feat against the strength of his movements.

katsuki’s hot hands seized your hips, pulling you back in time with him thrusting forward, his hips pressing into your squishy thighs hard enough to leave a dark bruise before he was pulling back out to fuck you hard again, his dominance making your pussy squeeze tighter around him, leaving you to helplessly cry out broken stammers of his name beneath him until your voice broke, your breathing growing faster, harder, with his movements, “oh-h, ka-katsuki, ‘m close.”

your slurring words had him fucking ever harder into you, helping you chase the orgasm you’d been desperate for since the second act, shifting your hips to have the head of his cock brushing the spongy spot deep inside your pretty cunt, hitting it again and again until you were squealing, creamy cum gushing out of you to collect around the base of his thick cock in a lewd ring. despite your spasming pussy, katsuki’s vice-like grip didn’t loosen, virile fingers splayed over your shaking hips, pulling them up to keep his pace, dragging his veiny cock in and out of you, watching your cum gather and drip down him to the ground below.

his cock felt like it was in your throat, every thrust forcing out garbled moans into the night air, even a deep sigh escaping the blond above you when your thighs twitched and trembled again. katsuki slid a hand up your spine from your hip, pushing your face back down with a strong grip on the back of your skull, leaning forward to grind deeper inside you, revelling in your muffled whine, watching the way your eyes widened before rolling back again, “you’re gonna cum again?”

katsuki’s mocking tone was uneven, tinged with his own impending end, but you still heard the cocky smile in his voice, his ego ever ballooning at the ease he worked you up, revelling in the warm squeeze of your thirsty cunt around his cock, more and more wetness dripping from you to collect around him. still, you nodded, too delirious to even try and deny the effect he had on you, your tense thighs and delirium only inflating his ego more.

“who makes you feel like this, huh?” his voice was a hoarse whisper now, thick eyebrows scrunching when you squeeze around him again, just from his voice and the stretch of his cock.

“you! you do, katsuki!” you choke out his name once more, your voice still muffled against the seat, his hand at the small of your back doing little to stop you standing on the very tip of your toes to swallow his cock deeper until he matched you with his own stammer of your name, pushing your head down harder as he stood up again, fucking rougher into you, faster, abusing your hole to get to his own end with you.

repeating his name like a mantra, your whole body tensed under him like you’d been shocked, a long whine of his name when you came intensely around him again, your high pitched keen making him follow suit, holding you firm against him, emptying himself into you, thrusting shallowly twice more to fuck his cum deep into you before he laid atop you with a low groan of his own.

you whimpered underneath him, your cunt still tight around him while you both started to calm, heart rates returning to normal, sweating skin cooling rapidly in the night air. you both laid still for a moment, bodies relaxing into the leather like you were in a liquid state, a soft whimper escaping you every so often as the last waves of your orgasm washed over you; similarly, katsuki remained still, gently releasing his grip on the back of your head to hold himself up above you before gingerly standing back up behind you, slowly pulling out of you with a soft wince at the sensitivity, glancing back up to study your face when you shivered at the loss of his warm body.

he leans over you to twist his keys in the ignition, the car starting with a low rumble, air blowing from the vents quickly warming both you and the car. you gawk up at him, stars still in your eyes when you connect the dots, “your car’s been fine the whole time?!”

he slides your soaking wet panties back up your thighs, snapping the waistband against your skin once they sat comfortably on your hips again,“obviously, the final girl’s supposed to notice that.” 

“the final girl was a bit preoccupied.” you glare, gasping again when his fingers loosely loops around your throat to pull you up to stand in front of him again, lust dripping from his near-silent voice, “well, it’s just your luck the final girl owes me a favour…wanna see if you’ll survive the sequel?"

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Thirteen | Azriel X Rhys'!Sister reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

“What the fuck is that?” You demand, stepping forwards once more. 

“None of your concern,” Rhys snaps at you, a shadow of wings beginning to unfurl over his shoulders.

“No,” You say again, “I will not be your pretty little pet. If we are indeed going to war, I will fight. I wasn’t old enough the last time, but I’ll be cauldron damned if I stay out of it again.”

“She has the right to know,” Az spoke up. 

“Damn right she has the right to know,” Morrigan says, “You won’t be able to keep her away from this fight Rhys.” 

“Enough!” He snaps once more, “Enough.” His head is hung low, like he finally understands that you will not be shielded from this conflict. 

Az’s shadows drift towards you, curling around your arm, comforting you in an odd way. But you felt as if the walls of the townhouse were closing in on you. A war was coming. And it would be worse than the one of your childhood. You could feel it, deep in your bones, you would lose those closest to you. 

“I need air,” You forced out before running towards the door. 

Leave them to their scheming. You needed out, you needed the fresh mountain air. Something to remind you that you were no longer a prisoner. Even if Rhys would be more than happy to keep you locked away in Velaris forever, you knew he wouldn’t. He would let you fight, even if it threatened to be his undoing, because he would never be like Tamlin. He refused to let that darker part of him take control. 

You find yourself on the bridge to the Rainbow. Although you still refuse to cross it, much like Feyre, you couldn’t help but come here sometimes to just breathe. Seeing the colors, hearing the music, it still feels like a dream to you. But a very good dream that you never want to wake from. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” A deep, silken, voice says as Azriel settles into place next to you. 

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, so softly it almost isn’t even there. But it was a smile nonetheless, and Az didn’t let it go unseen. He saw every part of you, right down to the fingernails you’d ripped down to stubs. 

“You always did read me too well,” You sigh, turning to look back at the river. 

They used to have to drag you from this spot, kicking and screaming you might add. This was your favorite place in all of Velaris. Always had been. But you were whole back then, a full person. Now you felt like a ghost, the shell of who you once were. 

“Care to walk?” He asks, holding out his arm for you to take. 

“Not tonight, Shadowsinger,” You rarely used his title. Mainly saving it for official business. Maybe you were using it in hopes he would vanish, leaving you to wallow in your misery. 

War was coming. People were going to die. People you cared about. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. Az would be in the thick of it, along with Cas and Rhys. Your three men, the ones you loved the most, would put their lives on the line again and again to ensure that the right side would win. But at what cost? Who would you lose? 

The thought of losing Azriel made your chest threaten to cave in on itself. The breath was knocked from your lungs at the thought as you began to shake. You could survive losing people you loved, but losing Az? The one who seemed to always understand you? The one who seemed to see you? You weren’t sure you could handle that. 

“Stop thinking,” Az’s scarred hand gently brushes your cheek, causing you to flinch away for a moment, before reaching up to grasp his hand in order to keep it there. 

“I can’t help it,” You mutter, “I feel as if I’m going to lose all of you.” 

“You won’t lose me,” he promises, turning you to face him. 

“You can’t know that,” Is your only reply, “You can’t even begin to promise that.” 

He lets out a deep breath before he pulls his dagger, Truth Teller, the very one you gave him as a child, from its sheath, “I swear on this dagger, on my life as it were, that I’ll always come back to you.” 

“Az-”

“No, listen to me, Y/N, we promised as children that whatever we do, we do it together. Wherever we go, we go together, and I plan on keeping that promise. We’ll get through this war, should it come, together.” 

Tears burned your eyes. He’s never swore on that old steal before. It was his most prized possession, because it was the first gift he’d ever been given. Not something he had to win in a training circle, but wholly and truly his. You had it made just for him, had the runes carved into it, everything was done with him in mind, knowing what he would one day be. 

“Stop it,” You turn away from him again, forcing yourself to focus on the river as you blink away your tears, “You’re making a promise you know you can’t keep. You’re no death god, you have no power over it. Should the-” Your voice cracks, “Should the Mother choose to claim you for herself, there is nothing you can do to prevent it.” 

“Stay with me tonight, at the House. Give Rhys and Feyre their space,” He begs, “Sleep next to me.” 

“Azriel-”

“Please,” he says, forehead coming to rest against the side of your head, “I beg you. Just stay with me, so I know you’re safe.” 

You finally nod, giving into him. Like you could ever say no to Azirel anyway. He was your whole being, even if you didn’t yet know it. But you could feel it, the shimmer of a bond that had yet to awaken. 

He flies you to the House of Wind, making sure to add in an extra loop or two just for fun. You don’t let him see how the flight brings tears to your eyes, because the last time you flew was with your mother. You didn’t let him know how it threatened to crack your heart even more than it already was. No, you couldn’t let him know all of that. 

He still noticed the way you pulled away from him the second you two landed on the balcony. Your breath was shaky, as you walked away, wringing your hands. You were trying to figure out how to deal with this. You’d rather face the steps than fly again. 

The thought of flying again made you want to vomit. How could you explain that something that once gave you life and meaning now seemed so vulgar? 

“Are you alright?” 

“Give me a minute,” Was all you could say as you worked your way further into the house and away from Az. 

You hated pushing him away, hating keeping secrets from him. But the scars on your back seemed to burn with a white hot fire. You needed to forget, had you still been in Spring you would’ve had more wine than you should have and then invited Lucien into your bed to fuck you senseless. The rumors of Autumn Court men fucking with fire in their veins was true. 

“What do you need?” Az is behind you in an instant, feeling like you’re longing for something you won’t ask for. 

You never slept with Az. Not in that sense. But it’s the only thing you can think of to make the burning stop. To make you forget about everything. It’s the only thing you can think of to forget. Forget about your mother, forget about that day, and all that you lost because of it. 

“I can’t ask you for what I want,” You mumble, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him. 

You’re half tempted to brave the cauldron damned steps and find a pleasure hall. Surely you could find someone there to please you enough. But the thought of doing anything with anyone other than Az makes you just as sick as the flying did. 

When you were with Lucien it was because you never thought you’d see Azirel again. You never thought you’d see the man who made you whole, the love of your life. Now…now that you’re back, and Azriel is right here….you can’t imagine him not touching you. 

“Ask me,” His voice is gruff in your ear, “Ask me anyway.” 

“Fuck me,” You whine, twisting in his arms to kiss him, “Gods, please Azriel, I need you to fuck me.” 

“You need me to make you forget?” He questions, understanding in a way you could never imagine. 

“Please,” You beg. 

Shadows gather around you, cooling your boiling skin. Within the second, you’re surrounded by darkness as he winnows you to his bedroom. You know it’s his room because you used to sneak into it all of the time. 

Nothing had changed that you could see. Weapons scattered around, various weapon racks and cases along the walls. You’re on his bed before you can think, his hands all over you. He’s wild, like he’s finally let go of that thread that keeps him wound so tight. The little bit of control finally let loose. 

“Az.” 

“Shh,” He whispers, capturing your lips again oh so gently, “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” 

“I’m not fragile,” You remind him, “I won’t break. I don’t need you to be gentle.” 

“You aren’t fragile,” He agrees, “But you are precious, and I want to be gentle with you.”

You moan out, feeling his hands, or maybe even his shadows reach for your breasts. You hadn’t been fucked in what feels like years. Maybe it had been years. When was Fire Night? Was that the last time you were with Lucien? 

Why were you even thinking of another man when you’re with Azirel? You silently scold yourself. Before you cling to him, holding him as tightly to yourself as you could. You wanted everything with him. You always had. But you never thought you’d ever have this chance. 

You thought for sure your father would marry you off to some Lord’s son before you could ever love Az the way you wanted to. Now here you are, hundreds of years later, ready to give him everything you have to offer. 

“I want you,” You whisper against his lips. 

It didn’t occur to you that Cassian could be somewhere in the house. You hoped that he was flying high above the city, and that all of this would go unknown. But the feel of Azriel’s hands on your skin was enough to make your mind go blank. 

The air was thick with the scent of your combined arousal. You could almost taste it. He gets to work on quite literally ripping the clothes from your body. It’s a good thing you weren’t overly fond of the set that Mor obviously picked out. 

“See, more of that,” You tease, nipping at his bottom lip. 

“Enough talking,” He warns, fingers dipping down to your heat. 

It was enough to shut you up, that’s for certain. The feeling of his scarred hands where you’d always dreamt of having them. Having his lips on your skin, working down your body, trailing kisses in their wake. 

A moan is released from your lips as he finally inserts a finger, and then another. You’re far from a virgin, he knows this, but it might as well be your first time. You feel like it is. Feel the need to fumble your way through so clumsily that it’s almost laughable. 

You’re whispering his name like a prayer, unable to form any other words. It’s just him, he’s all you can think about. All you could focus on. Anything else melted away as he sucked on your clit, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. You’re a moaning mess. Clinging to the hair on his head, pushing him impossibly closer to your core. 

You can feel him smile against you, and it sends you over the edge as he chuckles. Your vision goes white and no sound comes out of your open mouth as you convulse. Az keeps working you through it, only stopping once you literally push his head away. 

“You…” He stops and shakes his head, shadows are dancing around the both of you, “You’re incredible.”

“Just get over here,” You mutter, grabbing for him once more so you could kiss him. 

Despite the awkward angle, you get to work on the laces of his leathers, trying to rid him of his clothing just as quickly as he’d taken yours off. You seemed to forget in that moment that you had powers that would make this much easier, or maybe you didn’t care about them. This felt more primal than your powers. 

You free his cock, mouth instantly going dry. You hadn’t expected him to be so big. You never listened to Mor when she used to joke about wingspans, maybe you should have. Truthfully, you weren’t sure it was going to fit, he very well might just split you in two. 

As if he senses your apprehension, his hands come to rest over yours, “I’ll be gentle,” He reminds you, “And if you want to stop, you just need to tell me, okay? You can walk out of here, no questions asked.” 

“I want this,” You whisper, “I want you, Azriel. All of you.” 

His eyes shimmer a little as he swallowed thickly, “Okay.” 

He leans down to kiss you again. Any of your worries seem to just melt away under his attention. But you still can’t help but tense up when you feel him line up with your entrance. He gently tries to soothe you, reminding you that he’s going to go slow, reminding you that you’re truly the one who’s in charge. 

He takes your breath away as he slides in. Your eyes screw shut, hands reaching for anything to grip onto, whether it be the bed or Az. He hisses above you, arms shaking as he tries to keep above you. His wings are flared out behind him, and you don’t need your eyes open to know that. 

“Fuck,” He mumbled, pushing in just a little further. 

“I want all of you,” You force out, wrapping your legs around his middle, feet digging into his ass. 

“I know,” He grunts, “I know baby. Just give me a second, or I won’t last.” 

After a moment or two, he finally pushes in the rest of the way, filling you to the hilt. You’re panting, trying to fill your lungs with air, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Az has his face buried in your neck, breathing just as deeply as you are. Nothing ever seemed to feel so right to you before. That thing inside your chest that always seems to be there for Az just blooms. Growing bigger, begging for more of him. 

“More,” You moan out, holding him tightly to you, “I need more.” 

He nods and draws his hips back before trusting back into you. His shadows are kissing you, moving along your body with featherlight touches. It only adds to the feeling of Azriel inside you. It’s almost too much, and yet still it’s not enough. You want more of him, you need it. You need all he has to offer. All he can give you. It makes you whine out. 

“I know,” He groans, kissing you, “I feel it too.” 

His hips snap a little harder, filling you even deeper if it’s even possible. You cling to him to keep you grounded, like he’s the only one in the world who could. It never felt like this before. This personal, this loving. It takes your breath away in more ways than one. 

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten even more. 

The slow, deep tempo he started begins to become more erratic, thrusts becoming sloppy and harder. You’re a moaning mess underneath him, begging for something, anything. Begging for him. 

“Fuck,” He whimpers, literally whimpers from above you, “I’m gonna cum.” 

One more snap of his hips, and a flick of your clit, and you’re coming with him. Both falling over the edge together. Moaning and kissing and breathing together. You never felt more connected to a person before. Never wanted to feel more connected to anyone than you wanted to be connected to Azriel. 

“I love you,” He whispers to you, kissing your neck. 

You wrap your arms around him, stroking his hair, “I love you too, Az.” 

“Stay with me?” You never heard him sound so vulnerable. 

“I won’t go anywhere,” You promise, kissing his head. 

You fell asleep like that, holding one another. Anything you were worried about before had long since melted away. Nothing else seemed to matter but the beautiful Shadowsinger in your arms. He was all that you wanted, all you needed really. 

But when the early morning sun shone through the window, you felt nothing but guilt. Because as much as you loved him, you used him last night. It shouldn’t have happened because you needed to forget. The scars on your back seemed to be burning again as you made your way from Azriel’s room, dressed, surprisingly, in fresh clothing that the House left out for you. 

You’d forgotten about the magic of this place. 

You’re about to brave the steps when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Never thought I’d see you sneaking out of here,” Cassian stated.  

“Don’t,” You warn, “Not this morning.” 

“Go back to him,” He urges you, “Whatever fucked up thing you’re thinking, forget it. And go back to my brother. He deserves one good thing in his life.” 

“I’m not good,” You shake your head, “I haven’t been in a long time.” 

He takes a step closer to you, arms wide open, “Whatever happened that day, and what’s happened in the years after, don’t change who you are. You’re still you.” 

A lump forms in your throat, and you rush into his open arms. Needing to feel some kind of comfort from someone who somehow seemed to understand what you’re going through. Somehow he knew, and didn’t shy away from it. 

“You’re still Y/N, nothing can change that,” He promises you, “We’ve all done things we wish we could take back, things we aren’t proud of. But you survived, they tried to break you but they couldn’t. They failed, and you made it out alive. No one can fault you for the things you had to do to ensure that.” 

“But-” 

“No, sweetheart,” He shakes his head, “You lived.”

You can’t help but cry. Because it's the first time someone actually told you that it was okay. Everything you did, everything you had to do…it’s okay. You cry so hard your legs wobble, causing Cas to haul you into his arms and walk you into the living room. He sits down on one of the couches, holding you in his lap, letting you cry it out. 

It could have been hours later, you aren’t quite sure. But quiet footsteps echo through the now silent living room. You know it’s Aziel, because he’s the only other one in the house, but you can’t bring yourself to move. All your strength is gone again. 

“Why is it that I always seem to find you like this?” He asked Cassian carefully. 

“Because believe it or not, I’m good at talking to her,” Cassian whispers back to him, “I think she’s asleep.” 

“I’ll take her to her room,” Az sighs, “How bad was it this time?” 

“Bad enough,” Cas shrugs, “She still blames herself.” 

“Do we need Rhys?” 

“No, not yet,” Cas says softly, “I think she’s figuring it out. Stubbornly slow, but I think she’s getting there.” 

Cassian is silent for a moment before speaking again, “She smells of you.” 

“Don’t.” Az warns, his voice not lacking an edge. 

“No, I’m happy for you,” Cassian clarified, “You two work well together.” 

“When she isn’t running we do.” 

“She’ll come around. She has to forgive herself first though,” Cassian assured him. 

Azriel comes closer, holding his arms out for you. Cassian sighs and stands, helping transfer you into Azriel’s arms. You instantly snuggle into him, humming in your dazed state. Cassian was right, you were mostly asleep. But awake enough to know that you’re in your love’s arms. 

“Take care of her,” Cassian warns Azriel. 

“I plan on taking care of her for the rest of our lives if she’ll let me.” 

“Good.” 

With that, Cas turns and makes for the balcony before shooting to the skies. Leaving you alone in the house with Az once more. You mumble something that Az can’t quite make out, which causes him to gently shoosh you. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you princess,” He promises, “And I’m not going to let you go.”

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[personal-progress-dropout]

The Rainbow Sheep

(Yes, I know, very original and creative title, but it gets the job done. Get ready for personal stories and too many parenthesis.)

In my childhood, whenever gay people were mentioned, it was with the same tone you’d use for someone with terminal cancer. It was a tragedy. They were lost, they had distanced themselves from God, and they were grieved like the dead. Sometimes it felt like people would rather their gay brothers and sisters be dead instead of gay. Of course, we should always be kind and welcoming, love the sinner hate the sin, etc., but honestly, it felt like you could never truly be accepted if you were gay. There was a distance, and it was always the gay person's fault.

For example—on June 26, 2015, the U.S. Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in all fifty states. I was thirteen years old. That Sunday, there was a special meeting at church to discuss the new development and reinforce The Family Proclamation. I remember very little of what was said, but I remember what I felt. I remember that the atmosphere felt like the greatest of tragedies had occurred, and I remember being told that we had to defend traditional marriage. We had been given the duty of defending the Family, something that the world wanted to destroy. (I use Family with a capital F because it always seems like we’re defending an unreachable ideal instead of the messy, glorious reality.) Nobody ever used that language directly, but I certainly felt the implication, and the language they did use drew up a stark divide of ‘us vs. them.’ 

I wholeheartedly believed this, and I was going to do everything I could to strive towards the ideal. I was going to get married in the temple and start my own eternal family! There was just one problem with that—I didn’t see men as romantic partners. My future husband was a faceless doll set in the life I wanted to have: my vision for the future included kids, a house, pets, and a job, but I had no idea where a husband was supposed to fit in my life. The ‘crushes’ I had as a kid were a fun game of pretend because girls were supposed to crush on boys. The older I got, the more exhausting the game of make-believe became. Looking back on my high school years, I realize that I was never actually attracted to the boys I wanted to date; I simply wanted to hang out with them. If they were attracted to me, that would be nice, and it would definitely stroke my ego, but I didn’t want them. I wanted to be wanted.  

I’ve always gravitated to women more than men, even as a child. It’s a running joke among queer women that when you see a beautiful girl you don’t know if you want to be her or be with her, but I’ve always been able to make the distinction. Women were easier to develop crushes on than men. I could differentiate between attraction and admiration, and after I came out it was incredibly frustrating to hear people say I was confusing the two. I was enchanted with the sway of a classmate’s hips, the bark of her laughter, the passion of her voice. If I had changed the pronoun to ‘he’, everyone would assume I was in love. 

I realized I was queer when I was sixteen years old, and it was terrifying. Gay people were the ‘other’, they were either set on destroying the Family or they were expected to live out a solitary life in the hope that they would get a heterosexual happily-ever-after in the Celestial Kingdom. I didn’t want to destroy the Family! I didn’t want to die alone! There were certain men that I found handsome, so I determined that I was attracted to men (in theory) and therefore nobody needed to know. I could go through my life with nobody the wiser, and I would never have to risk the alienation that comes with coming out.

And it's a risk. Parents will tell their children that they will always love them and there’s nothing they can do to change that. This is simply not true. I grew up with these same reassurances, but I was never specifically told that I could be gay and my parents would still love me. I’m incredibly lucky. Despite the way my parents were raised to regard LGBTQ+ people (which in all honesty was pretty mild compared to some of my friends' parents), they valued the commandment to love God and their neighbors over anything else. It was still one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life because I was walking into unknown, potentially dangerous territory. In the end, I’m so glad that I did. My parents and I understand each other better now, and I don't have to carry the weight of secret-keeping anymore.

Of course, there are still misunderstandings and miscommunication. I was frustrated because my parents didn’t want me to come out to my sisters until we were older. I felt like a dirty secret, and it felt like there was a layer of separation between me and my sisters. There are moments when I feel othered—when I know I can never come out to certain parts of my family, because they would never look at me the same way. (I might someday. Who knows.) When I see legislation that forbids talking about LGBT in schools and how gay literature is being banned from libraries, and how members of my family don't see a problem with this, because aren't they a bit young for that anyways? (I wasn't too young to be taught that I should marry a man in the temple and have children that I should raise in the faith, but that's besides the point.)

I get annoyed when I hear my orientation referred to as a ‘trial’ and something that will be made right in the afterlife. I don't consider it to be a trial--I think it's an aspect of who I am, and the trial comes from people who have a restricted view of the world.

I love my faith. I love the assurance that comes with knowing I'm a child of God, and I love how we as a church believe that we can become greater than we are through living gospel principles, but it should come as a surprise to nobody that the church is an institution made up of imperfect people. We have a long way to go, but I have hope. Look at me! I went from a deeply conservative teenager who believed that gay marriage was a sin (I'm not even sure I knew trans people existed at the time) to someone who accepts their identity as queer and tries to make the world a more accepting place. I can change, and I like to believe that the people around me can too. We can become greater than what we are today.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #33

MC: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically Galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts longer

Solomon: Fork

MC: Oh yeah I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absent minded dunce fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin

Diavolo: Uhm, you seem to forget that chips can also mean fries? And that’s probably what they were talking about haha

MC: I did not forget anything. I purposefully ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out

•

Belphegor: An alarm clock except it’s set to every time

Leviathan: We touch

Solomon: I get

Diavolo: This feeling

•

Beelzebub: I was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on

Mammon: That might be one of the ultimate power moves

Simeon: Or pick it up and say “lift your arms up” and try to put it back on him

•

Leviathan: By day I appear to be no more than just an average run of the mill office worker, but when night time strikes! I’m crying alone in my bed

•

Solomon: I bought my friend an elephant for their room

They said “thank you”

I said “don’t mention it”

Mammon: Is there a joke here that everyone gets but I don’t?

Belphegor: Nobody tell them

•

Thirteen:

Them: why are you competing in our cooking show today?

Me: the government banned gladiatorial matches yet I yearn for glory in the arena

Solomon: I’m here to tell you gladiator matches are still a thing, pal

Thirteen: Hm. Interesting. The last time I tried to behead a man for prestige and the right to majesty, I was dragged out of the alleyway by three very unreasonable men of the law and I would like to know where you live

•

Diavolo: What do you call a snobbish criminal going down the stairs?

Lucifer: I don’t know. What?

Diavolo: A condescending con descending

Lucifer: Get out

MC: That was beautiful

•

Leviathan: Bitten by a radioactive cicada. Now all I do is sit in a tree and scream all day

•

Solomon: Self-care is slathering yourself in baby oil and sliding down the 7th lane in your local bowling alley so the mechanical pin setter will pick you up and take you to the forbidden place behind the bowling lanes where you can meet God but only on Tuesdays

•

Mammon: Security called me at work today and told me they saw me outside chasing a frog around on the security cameras. I wasn’t in trouble they just wanted to let me know they saw me, I didn’t catch him

•

Leviathan: Me wearing a blanket as a cloak, stirring my man’n’cheese in a dimly lit room: potion

•

Satan: When I say I’m “feral” it doesn’t always mean I’m angry, maybe I’m stupid and if you give me food you’ll earn my trust and I’ll follow you around

•

Asmodeus: Covered in blood for sexy reasons

Asmodeus: Also I just got stabbed

Asmodeus: Don’t suppose there’s anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice is there?

•

Diavolo: Introducing a new alignment— chaotic lawful. I have a strict moral code but nobody can figure out what the hell it is

•

Mammon: My best feature is that I’m blindingly intelligent for about 30 seconds a day

Mammon: I do not get to choose which seconds, they are not consecutive

•

Satan: Okay I’m normal now I promise. Let me out of the case please

•

Leviathan: Power move: calling someone a coward in the middle of a fight while also running away from them as fast as you possibly can

Lucifer: Mammon ghost wrote this

Mammon: YO

•

Leviathan: “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I am the physical embodiment of suffering

[calaisreno]

Nobody

663 Words / Prompt: Hero

No one ever calls John Watson amazing. As far as he can recall, no one has ever said he was extraordinary. 

His father laughed when he said he wanted to be a doctor. His mother said nothing. 

His sister came out when she was thirteen. John was ten that year, and learned from her experience that it’s better not to stand out. While Harry was being dramatic, having angry confrontations with their parents, making everyone love and hate her, John flew under the radar. 

At school, he stayed in the upper third. He worked hard, took part-time jobs to help with the bills, got regular haircuts, and never even considered a tattoo. 

Harry was a full-blown alcoholic by the time John started uni. He also drank, but kept his family history in mind and focused on what he was there for. 

His father was a gambler who always had a new plan; his mother poured her energy into charity and church. Harry seemed determined to fuck up in every way imaginable, as if she had a sacred destiny to be the black sheep. Blood was not destiny. John was the responsible one.

His army buddies gave him the nickname Three Continents. As a child, he’d spent a few years in Australia (one of his father’s schemes to get rich), but that didn’t really count. He’d grown up in Britain, travelled to the continent one summer. His luck with European women was nothing to write home about. When he left for Afghanistan, he didn’t have much hope for that continent, either, since most of the women there were Muslim. The nickname was ironic, not iconic.

In the army, he was commissioned as a captain. He took his office seriously, gave orders with confidence, not out of a sense of ego or pride, but because he was responsible. When you’re responsible for lives, you don’t let people down.

In essence, he was a humble man. 

When he returned home, he was a surgeon who could no longer do surgery, thanks to a shoulder wound that left him with nerve damage. He was a doctor with PTSD who couldn’t make it through the night without waking up in a sweat, hyperventilating. He had a limp. Women looked at him with pity, not interest.

And he began to suspect that dates with women weren’t what he wanted. His buddies might still call him Three Continents Watson, but there wasn’t any reputation to uphold. He often protested, I’m not gay, but his eyes tended to follow men rather than women.

That’s why, when he met Sherlock Holmes and agreed to share a flat with him, he felt fortunate to escape his tiny bedsit and move in with this odd man, who had somehow decided that John must accompany him at any hour of the day or night, usually to look at dead bodies. A man of eccentric habits, John seemed to have become one of them.  

It didn’t hurt that his flatmate was good-looking. Sherlock Holmes had high cheekbones, dark curly hair, and a lanky grace that was enhanced by the tailored trousers and jackets he wore. He spoke in a silky baritone. To John, at least, it didn’t matter that he was arrogant or even insulting. He was extraordinary. 

So when Sally Donovan frowned at John Watson and said, “Who are you?” he didn’t hesitate to say, “I’m nobody.”

But that same night, he carried his gun out into the night, chasing after a man, a murderer. He saw Sherlock about to accept the challenge, and his hand did not shake when he sent a bullet through two panes of glass, into the man’s chest.

John will never call himself a hero. They might exist, but he’s not one. 

He’s just an ordinary man who lost his limp when he began following Sherlock Holmes. 

And in that moment his only thought was that Sherlock Holmes had saved his life, and John wasn’t going to let him die. 

[blackbeauty-bby]

[yutahoes]

Caramel

(Part Thirteen)

gif by @noyuta I can't find the gif I always include in the story so just saved it and uploaded it. I'm sorry.

characters: ex-stripper! company vice-president! Yuta x female! ex-wealthy! secretary! mom! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, angst, fluff word count: 3.5k words summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper. warnings: matured theme, ex-stripper au!, third person POV, alcohol consumption taglist: @cherrymotodude @tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs @whyme11 @a-bts-world @amazinggraxia

Part Twelve

It must be a dream. A very crazy fever dream. 

Come to think of it, even when he first met her, it felt like a dream. A hazy fairytale. How could a pretty, wealthy, successful girl hang out with a low-life stripper? Even when she was in his arms, he felt as if he was floating and just dreaming of the moment. When they got separated and he never saw her for years, it felt like a dream-like trance. 

Maybe this is still a dream. He probably just missed her so much. 

Yet when Yuta pinched his arm so hard, hurting himself in the process to at least wake himself up, Y/N was still in front of him. And she looks even prettier, glowing even. He can’t take his eyes off her. He had to get his eyes checked twice just to make sure that what he was seeing was true and not a hallucination. 

But why? How? 

Why would the wife of a globally esteemed company chairman work as a secretary in their small company? How did Y/N end up here, in his office, of all places? 

It must be a plot. Maybe she works as a spy for their own company. But why Suzaki company? Does she know that he’s been doing this to defeat Jung Tradings? 

He’s getting crazy just thinking of her reason when his original reason for opening the company is to be more successful than Jung Jaehyun. Then maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a chance to steal his first love from her husband. 

Is this a sign of mockery from them? 

That he’s now tied up to his dad who he despised the most. He’s running a small company. That the girl he yearned for is so close yet feels so far. Even if he can always see her, laughing with his very own secretary, he cannot touch her. That even if she calls him ‘sir’, he cannot have her. 

He hated this feeling, he’d rather die. 

All his hard work is now slowly going down the drain because of these stupid feelings. 

The money Y/N had given him the night they last shared was all poured into opening this small business. It was a deal he proposed to his biological father, Mr. Suzaki, when the elder's henchmen caught him. He had been running really well from him, avoiding him at all costs for years. But it only took Y/N’s mother for him to get discovered and be sent back to Japan. 

Yuta knew, even at a young age, that his biological father was the well-known yakuza in town. Growing up, the people around would tell him that he resembled the old man’s eyes. It also doesn’t help that he used to frequent the Geisha house to visit his favorite, Yuta’s mom. 

He knew his father had money. But ever since Yuta was born, the yakuza leader never once came into the Geisha house again. He never once visited him, never even bought his mother out. The first time Yuta saw him was when his mother died and he just casually bought him out of the Geisha house. A young boy living in a house full of women with raging hormones isn’t a great sign, that was what he told Yuta. But a young boy living in a house full of violent men isn’t a great sign either. He saw people being killed, and blood splattered everywhere in the house. His father is ruthless and does not spare any life.  

When Yuta was sixteen, he decided to run away from everything and live a new life. 

It was a well-thought-out plan. He never knew if his father did look for him all those years but he didn’t care, as long as he could stay away from the old man’s life. As long as he wouldn’t be tagged as a yakuza’s son. 

Now, he is the vice president of the Suzaki group. And now that he’s back, Yuta is determined to get the president position from his father. 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. But now that Y/N is on his team, his desire to be the company president has become less. He just wants to be the vice president and keep Y/N as his secretary. She seemed closer to him this way. 

Yuta thinks that he has an upper hand from Jung Jaehyun this way. His wife works for him eight hours daily. Technically, they spend more time together than she does with her husband. If possible, he saw her more this past week than when they were hanging out back then. And she didn’t change. Y/N would always forget to eat lunch especially when she’s immersed in her work so Yuta had to call for Haechan’s attention for him to ask his fellow secretary to eat. She would always stay at work late and come to the office so early. She wouldn't even complain even if he kept asking her for revisions.

Does she still have time for her husband? Is Jaehyun not clingy for her time? Because if that was him, if Yuta is the lucky person she got married to, he’d probably go to the office late and go home early to spend more time with her. He’ll probably just attach her to his hip just so they can spend all their waking moments together. Is Jaehyun already sick of her? Maybe Yuta still has the chance to snatch her away from him. 

It was a mystery. This is her husband’s party yet Y/N had told Haechan that she’ll just be waiting for them outside the hotel gates. She could easily just go inside the hotel with her husband. Besides, she knew about this hotel right? Yet, seeing her in that gorgeous black dress, he was glad that she didn’t come inside with her husband. His cheeks flared up, heart beating crazily in his chest as if it would burst. Even after all these years, it’s still her. 

Yuta casually opened the door of the backseat for her, letting her sit beside him in the car. Y/N obviously looked startled and Haechan, who was seated on the passenger seat, greeted her by saying that she looked lovely. For the first time, Yuta was grateful to have a chatty secretary in his life. The younger was sharing about how amazed he was at the hotel, even gasping at how far the gate was from the entrance. 

“It used to be farther,” both Y/N and Yuta claimed at the same time. Haechan’s eyes widened as the two just glanced at each other. “Have you been here before?” Both nodded which made Yuta lightly smirk. How could he forget that this was the exact place where they first met? But maybe that was just him. Surely, Y/N had more memories other than him in this place. She probably spent more time here with her husband, with its posh room and quality service. And that fact, itself, pissed him off. 

The driver opened the door for him and Haechan opened the door for Y/N. When the only female of their team held on to Haechan’s arms, he pursed his lips in annoyance. Even in the elevator heading to the ballroom, the two were just very chatty with each other. Y/N shared that the escargots are amazing and that Haechan should try them out but what she said next confused him, “I don’t know if they’ll serve wine, they have amazing red wine here.” 

Shouldn’t she know? This is a party held by Jung Jaehyun, her husband. Or, are they still married? 

He had always seen Jaehyun on the covers of magazines as the youngest chairman or one of the most successful multi-billionaires but there’s nothing about his wife or their married life together. He just assumed that she wanted their relationship low key but that would be impossible since with her intelligence and beauty, they could be tagged as the most powerful business couple. If the was him, once again, he would show off how amazing his wife is.

Yuta lightly glanced at her as she talked to the receptionist. Maybe they have broken up. He now has the best chance. 

“You can come in, Chairman Jung is ecstatic to meet you Mr. Suzaki.” Both Haechan and Yuta stared at the only girl who looked startled as well. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Nakamoto.” 

The high ceiling of the ballroom amused the youngest in the team, exclaiming that he had never been inside something as fancy as this. There were a lot of people, some were familiar faces from way before his nightclub days. Faces he had seen in magazines or newspapers. People who probably know Y/N from way before. But she remained glued to Haechan’s side, engaging in talks with the younger secretary. Is this her way to avoid these people? She could have declined to come here if she wanted to. 

Yuta thought that Jaehyun already knew who he was. Obviously, Y/N would have shared something about him right? That the stripper she once fooled with is now her boss. She even cried to her husband the first time they met, Yuta overheard that conversation. But the look on Jaehyun’s face is rather comical. He looked surprised and then confused at the same time, his eyes squinted as if taking a clear image of him. 

“Mr. Suzaki.” The party host greeted them and then glanced at the girl behind the person he just addressed. Jaehyun looked confused before smiling, dimples popping out that annoyed Yuta. He lent out a hand to shake, “I’m Jung Jaehyun from Jung Tradings.” 

“Yuta Nakamoto.” he introduced, shaking his hand. 

Jaehyun’s smile grew before he slipped his hand off him and then faced the other guy, shaking his hand. “And you must be Lee Haechan.” The younger one smiled widely. “You truly are a ball of sunshine.” Y/N giggled at the younger’s shocked face. “If you don’t mind, can I borrow Y/N for a second?” He lent a hand for her to take, claiming that he wanted to show her something. 

Haechan looked confused as Yuta carefully watched the couple walk while holding hands across the ballroom. “Does he know noona?” the younger asked as the older took a glass of champagne. 

Yuta downed the drink before taking another glass, “They’re married.” 

The secretary almost spat the drink he just took then stared at his boss as if he was joking then at the couple. “They look good together,” Yuta downed another glass of champagne. “Y/N noona hit the jackpot with a rich and handsome husband.” The older just rolled his eyes at that. He’s also handsome and rich. “But why would she work in our office if she’s the chairman’s wife?” 

He pursed his lips at that, “I don’t know.” Yuta claimed then stared deadpan at Haechan. “That’s why I want you to watch her every move.” 

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” Haechan asked which confused the older. “I thought you were smitten by noona. You can’t take your eyes off her.” What? That’s not true. What the hell is Haechan talking about? “There are rumors that you finally moved on from your first love because of noona.” Yuta chuckled before drinking his champagne. “Your favorability in the office came up when they thought you like a single mom then it turns out she’s married.” 

Huh? “A what?” 

“A single mom,” Haechan claimed as a matter of fact. “You do know that she has a son, right?” 

Yuta’s eyes were on the couple greeting someone. A son? They have a son together? Then it’s game over, right? 

True, this is Yuta’s first social event as a vice president of a company. As a Suzaki. But he’s not in the mood to mingle with some businessman or even introduce himself in their circle. Instead, he was seated in the hotel bar with a bottle of whiskey almost empty. How could one word affect him this much? A son. 

Y/N, the girl he loves, is now a mom.       

Her worry from way before is now a reality. Is that why she was glowing? Why she looks prettier? Motherhood might have looked really good to her. He just hates that he wasn’t there when that happened. He hates that all his reasons are now gone. He cannot do much to defeat the Jung tradings because realistically, he’s fairly a small company. He cannot steal the girl because they have a son together. 

Y/N as a mom would be such a lovely thing to see. 

Yuta hissed in annoyance before finishing the last gulp in his cup. Quickly, he tried to fill the glass when someone took the bottle from him. “You’re drunk.” He took the bottle away from the other’s grip but the girl just glared at him. “Stop drinking, sir.” 

He had to laugh while shaking his head. “Where is Haechan?” 

“I told him to look for you in the male restroom. I’ll call…” But before she could put the phone on her ear, he stopped her. Yuta leaned his head on her shoulder. His last attempt to find out if she was really true. That she’s now in front of him after all these years. His last attempt to keep his feelings for her. “Why did you drink so much, Yuta?” 

Yuta? He looked up at her, fingers of his right hand threading on her left hand. “I…”

“Noona!” Haechan called. Yuta sat up, removing his hold from her as if they were boiling hot. “You found hyung.” 

Y/N nodded. “Let’s take him home.” 

“Haechan can. You stay.” The girl wanted to revolt at that but the vice president continued in a cold voice, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The younger guy was once again confused but followed his boss’ orders, leaving his fellow secretary looking at them in worry. 

Yuta took a heavy sigh, dragging his own feet away from her. This is it, huh? His last goodbye to his last love. How heartbreaking. 

—----

Y/N had been staring at her left hand the entire time she was inside the cab. She could still feel how warm those hands were. She could still smell his sweet scent. She thought he had changed a lot. But that guy earlier was still Yuta. Sweet, handsome, sexy, and warm Yuta. Maybe it was the pressure of being a vice president that turned his attitude colder. But there’s still the Yuta she knows inside that person. If possible, she thinks this new Yuta is even hotter. 

The girl shook her head. What the hell was she thinking all of a sudden? 

In those years apart, she was pretty sure that Yuta had found the girl of his dreams. He knocked her out pregnant in just a night together, he probably has a family of his own now. Because seriously, who would ever resist that gorgeous face and hot body? 

Even that morning, with the warm cup of black coffee with a hint of caramel in her hands, she could still feel the warmth of his hand threaded on hers from last night. It’s even warmer than the coffee itself. She probably just missed him so much.

Haechan entered the office, apologizing for working on a weekend. “On a brighter note, we could leave before lunch if we get the work done.” He chirped, confusing her. Even if it is a weekend, isn’t that against the company rules? Secretaries cannot leave without their boss’ permission. “Hyung is too hammered to come in today. He also cried a lot from being too drunk last night.” 

Y/N didn’t know whether to be jealous or be relieved. She had always wanted to see Yuta drunk. He did witness her in her drunken state once and he promised that one day he’ll show it to her, ending in just a night together. She was curious about whether he gets aggressive when he drinks or just sleeps as if nothing is happening. She was relieved that he only cried when drunk and that Haechan was there to take care of him. But what does he cry about? The company? His frustrations? She’s now curious about that. 

The younger secretary was so great with computers that the task of doing a presentation for Monday morning and inventory of products were instantly done. Y/N was glad that she had an amazing co-worker and that their teamwork was great. “Are you eating out for lunch?” Haechan asked, fixing his backpack. 

Y/N nodded, closing her computer. “My son is coming by so we’ll grab lunch together.” The younger only nodded, “Do you want to come with us?” The sentence came before she could even think about the situation. She wanted to take it back but Haechan was grinning widely. She didn’t want to break his heart but she didn’t want to explain anything to him as well. 

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, “Haechan, whatever you’re going to see…” she started then bit her lip in contemplation. How should she say this to him? “Could you please hide it from anyone?” The guy tilted his head to the side looking at her in confusion. 

The girl was grateful that the younger had never asked anything. She introduced Mark to her co-worker, even sharing that he takes care of her son whenever she’s at work. The story of when she was in Canada and his parents were her adopted family there was also brought up. Her talkative son was the one who brought up that Mark wanted to be a performer in the country so he came with them. 

Y/N thought that Haechan would be surprised. She even expected him to be mad. But his nonchalance in the situation scared her more. When he introduced Kenshin, he just smiled widely and then greeted the kid as if they had known each other for a long time. The young child even asked if their boss was evil which made Haechan nod at him.

Haechan had a young boy charm. His energy is off the roof and he jived really well with her son. Maybe it was also one of the reasons why she grew comfortable with the younger guy. Contrary to Mark’s calm energy who was strict with her son like a real brother, Haechan had a cheerful approach to him like a playmate. Even their interaction reminded him of her brothers from before. How were they? Are they still as close as before? She wished she had taken notes on how to take care of a young child. She wished she had seen Junyoung grow up. 

“Does hyung know?” Haechan asked then lightly glanced at Mark who was listening. He probably knows right? The older woman shook her head, drinking her coffee. “Do you plan on telling him?” But she only shrugged in response. 

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to tell him. That would save her an earful from Ken who kept on asking for his dad. But the said father has already reached a high status in his life. New money rich. And with the current situation, she doesn’t want him to think that she’s after his money. Kenshin was her mistake, her decision. She didn’t follow his number one rule. He asked her for condoms and she declined. She needed to take the consequences of her life decisions. Besides, if Yuta isn’t ready to have a child, she doesn’t want her son to endure a heartbreak caused by a person he badly wants to meet the most. 

They’re fine living this way. 

When Mark decided to leave, excusing that he had a small busking gig, Haechan came with him. The mother-son was just walking in the opposite direction when the young secretary asked, “Shouldn’t we do something?” Mark just gave him a puzzled look, raising his eyebrow at what the other claimed. “Help noona and hyung get back together.” 

“Do you think they’ll both appreciate that?” Mark claimed in a soft voice. “I heard your boss likes to torment noona. The other day she even cried because he asked her to repeat the report four times and then submitted the first one she had done.” 

Haechan rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying my boss is an amazing man. He’s an annoying jerk.” The younger complained, making Mark smile. “But I recently discovered that he’s only like that because he was jealous of noona and Jung Jaehyun.” 

“Jaehyun hyung?” 

“They’re married, right?" 

Mark even stopped in his tracks. “They’re not.” Haechan stared in question. “Something about Jaehyun hyung stopping the wedding and noona running away that they didn't get married.”   

The younger’s eyes were wide in shock. “No way. Hyung thought they got married and she moved on from him that’s why he’s acting like a pathetic jerk.” 

“And noona thought that your boss did move on from her that’s why he’s been cold towards her.” 

“When clearly he hasn’t.” 

The older squinted his eyes at the secretary, “How did you know?” 

The younger had a faint smile on his lips. “He kept on crying her name, saying that he missed her so much, when he was drunk last night.” The smile grew wider, “Mark, we can definitely do something to get them back together.” 

“How?” Haechan smiled knowingly, making Mark sigh. “But if Y/N noona or Kenshin gets hurt, I’m out of it, Lee Haechan.” 

The younger shook the older’s hand, nodding his head. “Welcome onboard, Mark Lee.” 

“We will bring back Yuta hyung and Y/N noona together.”  

[athinasaurus]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —

@dreamduality it's finally here babe!!

A/N: first time writing about house MD, constructive criticism is welcome ♡ I'm sorry if I wrote him OOC (also not proofread)

Pairing: House x f!stripper!reader smut <3

Wc: 1.7k

Warnings: P in V, titty play, oral both f and m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, overstimulation, a bit of dubcon?? other kinks probably

Summary: Being a med student was hard but having student debt was harder. You had to make sure you weren't gonna die with no money to your name. Dancers made a lot, so why not? You thought. Obviously, you weren't making enough as an intern for the Dr. House. It was stressful but you could handle it...until he came up at your work.

You were sure nobody else knew. Not Foreman, not Thirteen, especially not House. So why the fuck was he staring at you with that evil grin?

There was no use running and hiding, he had already spotted your figure working on the pole. Your body moved to the rhythm of the song in the background while the audience showered you with bills. Your face heated up and you tried avoiding his keen eyes until he limped to you, sitting down in front row seats.

Well shit..

"Knew you'd be here. Taub and Thirteen bet you had a secret kid, I'm up another 50" He spoke with confidence. Apparently, it was obvious to him you'd be a whore. You sighed, you knew it was hopeless to get away from him now.

"How'd you find me?" You replied curiously, dragging your hand on the bar while giving the older man a little twirl. You couldn't be more embarrassed but business is business, you weren't going to stop just because of your supervisor. Maybe he'd tell Cuddy or the team but you doubted anything would come out of it, aside from annoying questions.

"The late arrivals, the early departures for one. Second, you're too young to be a mother but old enough to be a whore. Third, you'd walk 'home' even though you live an hour away. So why this job, did your father not love you enough? The preschool teacher touched your no-no square?"

"Sounds like you're projecting," you retorted at the last comment, "Debt is a pain in the ass and I don't want to rely on someone else to pay it off for me." Satisfied with your response, he couldn't be bothered to pester you about this subject for now.

You bent over with the pole between your legs as your hands land on your calves, swaying your ass for whoever was throwing bills behind you. Your tits almost spill out as the distance between you and House decreases. By now, your face is lowered to his level but his eyes rest on your breasts. He glances up, keeping eye contact.

"Sorry, thought your eyes were down there" he spoke sarcastically. You gave him a small smile, he was never really mean to you compared to the others but you could never put your finger on it. Probably just wanted to jump anything with curves. His gaze lingered on you far longer than it should've. You got onto your knees and crawled towards him slowly. Your eyes pierced his as you made your way over, your knees sweeping the platform. The sexual tension was undeniably sharp as your lips hovered over his. It was your turn to tease him. You gave a small smile and your mouth approached his ear.

"So, you've been stalking me? I didn't know you wanted me that badly" you purred. Retracting slowly, you come face to face with him. Lust and mischief clouded your gaze with a smirk plastered on your face.

"If I wanted a whore, I would've paid for one. For a much cheaper price too. You're not worth all these hundred-dollar bills." House mutters, observing the men around who had 'dibs' on you. You made your way back to the beam. Your hair swayed as your leg hooked onto the pole, and your body swirled. His eyes were glued to you as your act advanced. Your grip tightened as you balanced yourself, climbing the pole. The space between your legs widened as you smoothly inverted your position. You glided down, slowly reversing before you landed into a split. Among cheers and woos, your mind focused on the older man's intense stare. You decided to take a break, climbing off the stage to join House. You grabbed the drink from his hand and gulped it down. He avoided your fixation until he suddenly spoke out,

"How much would I have to pay...to have you all to myself?" His tone was sincere, catching you off guard. You had thought about it; he was handsome and you couldn't deny it. You'd be dumb to pass up on the opportunity to live that y/n life.

YOLO I guess!

"I-uh...you don't have to pay, we can go back to your place if you don't mind?" You stammered, your nerves were flooding your brain. You were sure he was sincere but another part of you was worried he was doing this to jerk you around. He studied your demeanor before nodding and making his way toward his motorcycle. You followed quickly behind in your skimpy outfit.

The rugged man adjusted himself onto his bike, patting the seat behind him. You hopped on hesitantly with your hands lightly grabbing House's waist.

He smirked as he adjusted your grip on him, moving your hands lower and tighter on his body.

-

House wasted no time as the door swung open. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he shoved his tongue down your throat. The room filled with groans and whines along with the sloppy sounds you were both making. His mouth practically swallowed yours, insisting on the control he had over you. You withdrew for a second to catch your breath, your gaze met his. Pupils dilated, breathing heavily, heart racing, he couldn't deny you looked amazing like this. You were both panting heavily until someone spoke up.

"Are you sure about this? I am your boss after all." His eyes pierced through yours as his hands rubbed softly at your waist in an attempt to comfort you. The dim light from the room revealed your flustered expression. You gave a coy nod before cupping his jaw to pull him in for a kiss. House groaned as you rolled your hips into his, it didn't take long till he hoisted you into his lap, carrying you to the bedroom.

He dropped you onto the bed and hovered your body as quickly as possible, peppering kisses on your neck. He picked you off your back, his hands eagerly picking at your low-cut attire. His gaze searched yours for confirmation before tearing off your top to reveal your tits.

"Jesus fucking Christ.." He muttered, studying your body as the masterpiece it is. You automatically tried covering your chest with your arms but that backfired when he pulled them behind your back, handling them with a firm grip. His eyes through daggers into yours as he growled,

"Don't hide from me."

A whimper emerged from your throat as you nodded frantically while his hands let go of yours to knead your breasts. You squeaked at the contact until his lips latched onto you, his fingers tweaking your nipples. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth and he took that as a sign to go rougher. His movements became more intense to the point you cried out, begging him to touch you elsewhere. Your panties were soaked and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Please House..I need you inside me" you whined. An evil grin was plastered on his face until he tsked and spoke out.

"Be patient, pretty girl. I'll give you what you want. Just wait a bit, ok?" The older man purred. He let go of your chest and you whined at the loss of contact until he laid on his back with his elbows propping him up slightly.

"Now...you're gonna unbuckle my belt and let me devour you. Got it?"

The demand fueled the heat in your core, dampening your panties within seconds. You did as you were told, your drenched cunt hovered over his lips.

"You're doing so good for me, my pretty little whore. Unzip my pants now, yeah?"

Your hands fidgeted with the zipper until his tongue lapped at your coated slit, murmuring praises into you while you writhed above him. Your moans became louder and your pulse got faster. Your hips bucked against him but he held them down, forcing you to ride his tongue. As his mouth fucked you, you took out his cock from his boxers. His hardened dick leaked with precum and he jerked his hips, House was begging for some contact. You gripped his shaft while your tongue gave his tip kitten licks until your lips connected to it. You took him as much as you could, occasionally gagging when you went too deep. The grip on your hips tightened as your pace on his cock increased. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking on it while his left hand tortured your cunt with 2 digits curled, and his right hand snugly held you in place. You were a moaning mess, the vibrations from your mouth on his dick forced out a groan from him.

"House...I-I can't take it anymore, I'm close..!" You whined desperately, hoping he'd give you permission to come.

"That's it, princess. Come on my tongue." He muttered before you saw stars. You clenched his fingers as you came, coating them even more in your slick. You weakly got off him with your legs shaking slightly. His chin was covered with your juices, House signaled you with a singular hand motion for another kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he fought yours for dominance. His hands snaked around you, pulling you on top of him.

"Wow, I didn't think an old man with a limp could keep up." You teased as your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. House scoffed at your remark before a mischievous grin appeared. His calloused hands tightened at your hips hovering over his cock until he rammed himself inside you. A yelp immediately left your mouth as your body tried adjusting to his size.

"So fucking tight and wet for me, right sweetheart?" He groaned out, his tone was laced with desperation. You rocked yourself against him, letting out small whines. His hips rocked against yours desperately. Your hands landed on his shoulders to ride him better. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and moans, House groaned as you clenched onto him. His hands held you chest to chest, needing to be closer to you. Your moans were driving him insane, he could feel your orgasm reaching as your pace increased. His cock twitched inside you before releasing his seed. Your cunt clenched his cock, milking him dry as you reached your orgasm.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —

[esamastation]

Part thirty-four of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three

-

Sephiroth feels a little better after an evening of meditation and a full night of sleep. Things look a little better in the light of day, and though the question of what the fuck he'd going to do about the war is still there, it has been put off. In favour of monster hunting!

"You seem… excited?" Angeal comments as they prepare to go.

He is! "Mn," Sephiroth answers, and carefully doesn't bounce with eagerness.

Even if the monsters of Final Fantasy can't hold a candle to the convoluted, messy and lazily put together nature of the monsters in PIDW, they're still interesting! Especially since he isn't sure what they actually are and how they work. Advent Children and Crisis Core really make it so unclear, because, like, everything turned into energy sparkles when it died? And he thinks in the movie one of the Sephiroth copies - weird to think about them now - summoned some monsters with magic? And then there was Zack in Crisis Core. Who turned into sparkles when he died!

Not everything can just disappear into energy, right, you need living things dying and rotting and composting to make up soil and stuff! If plants just disappear when they die, what do people eat, what were all these buildings made from? Plus he distinctly remembers coal being a thing in this setting, there was a whole town that got shafted because of it and everything, so fossil fuels exist, therefore stuff must leave behind physical remains! Except when it doesn't?

So! Is death like instant ascending here? Or like it descending, since all energy returns to the Planet? Sephiroth is pretty sure that Aerith left behind a body, and there were definitely corpses in the original game - but again, in the prequel it was really unclear. Enemies in combat disappeared, but cutscene death left a body. Except when it didn't!

Ah, the limitations of technology.

Still, he's interested in seeing how the creatures would look and feel and compare them to those he knows from PIDW. Final Fantasy VII had some really weird monsters, and he has a bet going with himself about how much they resemble awakened beasts or yaoguai. 

Angeal looks at him and then smiles, hoisting the Buster Sword to his back. "Ready to go, then?"

"Ready," Sephiroth agrees.

"We're going to have to talk to the Colonel first, but don't worry - I'll handle the talking," Angeal says. "He's an… old-fashioned soldier." 

Sephiroth arches a brow. It sounds like a warning. "Which means…?"

"He doesn't like SOLDIER, he thinks we're stuck up and get our abilities handed to us, we don't deserve our reputation, the usual stuff," Angeal shrugs. "Just ignore it and let me handle it."

"... If you say so."

They head outside together, and Sephiroth takes a moment to look around and try to be an objective observer. This place isn't really anything like the towns back home, in PIDW - the aesthetics are mixed, and though they're more like home than Midgar was, it's as if the place was squeezed through a funhouse mirror. It's just a little off.

And of course, there are no locals anywhere to be seen for a full comparison - just Shinra troops, infantry men and SOLDIERs. Who, the moment they notice him and Angeal, stop to stare and point and whisper.

Has the… incident in Midgar already spread this far, or is this really what it's like being Sephiroth all the time?

Depressing.

"Here," Angeal says and leads him to another house, apparently being used by the Colonel. "Remember, let me do the talking. You just stand there and look imposing, okay?"

Sephiroth snorts. "I think I can manage that."

The Colonel didn't look happy to see them, but then, he doesn't look like a man that's ever really happy. He sizes Sephiroth up and then scoffs. "It's about time. I don't know what kind of discipline you SOLDIER Firsts enjoy in Midgar, but this is a war front, sir, there are rules here."

Does that mean Sephiroth isn't a General then? 

"Right, you're right, of course, sir," Angeal says placatingly. "Well, we're here now, and we already have missions lined up, so -"

The Colonel ignores him and comes around his desk and to Sephiroth's face. "You've been in and out of Wutai for most of this war, isn't that correct, SOLDIER?"

Sephiroth blinks at the man, slowly. "I suppose so." Behind the Colonel Angeal looks panicked.

"What was that?" The Colonel asks dangerously, narrowing his eyes. "You suppose so?"

Sephiroth narrows his eyes back.

The Colonel continues. "When talking to an officer of superior rank, you answer yes sir, or no sir. You do not suppose! Now, do you have experience in the war or not, SOLDIER?!"

Oh, someone is feeling very insecure in their boots, aren't they?

Now, Sephiroth could handle this with all the tact and delicacy of Shen Qingqiu… but even Shen Qingqiu wouldn't have swallowed that kind of spiel without biting. The original definitely wouldn't have! And Sephiroth is supposed to be a villain… well.

Sephiroth smiles - the Colonel recoils.

Last night he'd reread everything there was on his phone about Wutai, going through all his missions again, trying to get as much intelligence as he could. Funny, the things the tutorial left out. 

"I'm sorry," Sephiroth says sweetly. "Who are you?"

The Colonel goes a little red. "Excuse me, SOLDIER?"

"You're barking at me as though at a private, expecting me to go yes sir and no sir," Sephiroth says mockingly. "And yet I have no clue as to who you even are."

Behind the Colonel Angeal gapes and then lifts a pleading look to the ceiling.

The Colonel sputters. "You, you - How dare -"

Ah, you gotta love zero IQ bullies.

"I was given a whole slew of missions and orders," Sephiroth says softly. "All are very vital and high priority. I'm to slay monsters that have killed your men, I'm to hunt down spies you've clearly failed to find, I'm to clear a guard station you haven't been able to get near, I'm to weaken a fortress you cannot even touch, and ten other things besides. All my mission files are very clear. And you know what they all have in common?"

He leans a little closer to the Colonel - right in his purple face. "Not a single one of them mentions you."

Then, before the Colonel can recover, Sephiroth turns on his heel with an imaginary mike drop and saunters out, feeling a whole lot better about everything. The sun is shining, the troopers are scattering at the mere sight of him, and the air is fresh and sweet with natural Qi.

Already this day is looking up.

Angeal, clearly deciding that evasion was the better part of valour, hurries after him. "We're going to pay for that later, you know," he says, sounding defeated.

Of that Sephiroth doesn't have any doubts. What good is a one-time bully? There'd either be a horrifying scene of comeuppance to bring home the realities of war, or a heartfelt discovery and understanding about how they're not so different after all, or whatever else. 

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it," Sephiroth says cheerfully. "Now. I was promised monsters."

Angeal sighs, glancing back at the house commandeered by the Colonel. "... I guess we better clear out anyway. Alright," he motions. "Right this way to the monsters."

Sephiroth grins at his bitchy tone, and together they head out.

-

SY can have a petty bully scene, as a treat.

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is being plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Pairing: Douxie Casperan x f!Reader, Trollhunters & f!Reader (Platonic!)

Updates: Weekly!

Tags: mostly fluff, some angst, slow burn but not really, friends to lovers to strangers to lovers?(you’ll see)

Warnings: not really, daddy issues, canon violence, shitty summaries, no beta we die like men, writing improves as the series advances promise

Status: ongoing!

Taglist: opened!

Playlist

Masterlist

Part 1:

Trollhunters

Season 1:

Chapter one: Strings

Chapter two: Wherefore Art Thou, Trollhunter?

Chapter three: Win Lose or Draal

Chapter four: To Catch a Changeling

Chapter five: Bittersweet Sixteen

Chapter six: Young Atlas

Chapter seven: Forget Me Not

Chapter eight: Return of the Trollhunter

Chapter nine: Hazel Eyes

Chapter ten: Relics

Chapter eleven: Smother

Chapter twelve: A Night to Remember

Chapter thirteen: Something Rotten This Way Comes

Season 2:

Chapter fourteen: How To Steal A Bridge

Chapter fifteen: Homecoming

Chapter sixteen: Welcome Home

Extras: headcanons

Chapter seventeen: A Little Bit Of Heaven

Chapter eighteen: Dear Sister

Season 3:

Chapter nineteen: Night Shift

Chapter twenty: We Need To Talk About Mom’s Paintings

Chapter twenty one: Coming Back

Chapter twenty two: For The Glory Of Merlin

Chapter twenty three: How To Fix An Amulet

Chapter twenty four: Secrets Are No Fun

Chapter twenty five: As The World Caves In

Extras: Back To The Old House

Chapter twenty six: Becoming a Troll And Hunter

Chapter twenty seven: Eternal Night, Eternal Knights

Part 2:

Wizards

Chapter twenty eight: Childhood Home

Chapter twenty nine

~I don’t own any of this characters or trollhunters ~