#two dots title theme

[amelikos]

Sango-chan.

[christopherisfoive]

Heyy ! The request is 9 + jeongin

Hi sophthejohnpork—welcome to StayGround Cafe! ☕️ Your very first brew is ready; may it taste like warm comfort with a splash of drama. Drop by anytime for refills, new flavors, or extra sprinkles of chaos—I’ve got the espresso machine humming for you.

Title: Hidden Hearts & Game-Night Confessions Includes: secret relationship • hallway kiss caught red-handed • friend-group interrogation (playful, not angsty) • charcuterie, Code Names & sangria chaos • fluffy, open-ended finish

You and Yang Jeongin have been each other’s secret for almost four months—not because the love is fragile, but because the friend-group is. The eight of you met freshman year in a dorm hallway crowded with cardboard boxes and cheap ramen; two years later, every Friday is still “Game-Night,” played in Minji’s living-room fortress of mismatched beanbags.

Opinions inside that room run hot—who ruined the group project, who ghosted whose situationship—and neither of you wanted your new romance thrown onto that bonfire before it finished kindling.

So you practiced covert intimacy.

Arcade tokens palmed from his hand to yours, contact hidden in neon glare.

Spotify blends labelled with fake usernames.

A single shared note-app file—“Grocery List”—that was actually date plans and cheesy haikus.

Sometimes the secrecy felt thrilling, like finding the one quiet aisle in a noisy store. Sometimes it felt silly, especially when Jeongin’s eyes softened in the glow of Mario Kart and you had to look away before the others noticed.

Tonight’s Game-Night theme is charcuterie and Code Names. The apartment smells like rosemary crackers and cheap sangria. Jeongin arrives late, hoodie half-zipped, cheeks pink from the October wind.

He heads straight for the kitchen, sneaks a marshmallow from the dessert tray, and mouth-sends you a heart across the counter. You pretend to roll your eyes and keep cutting cheese cubes—perfect cover, you think, until Hyunjin smirks as if he’s seen the whole exchange.

Minji claps for attention. “New house rule: no phones at the table; drop them in the bowl.” Everyone grumbles but obeys. You and Jeongin lock eyes—there goes the backup plan to text under the radar.

Teams form, cards shuffle, laughter spikes. The living room fills with inside jokes and competitive screeching. You’re on opposite sides to avoid suspicion, but that makes the pull between you worse: the way he drums fingers during your turn, the way you nearly say “babe” instead of “your clue is two.”

Halfway through round three, Jisung spills sangria onto the floor. Minji orders everyone to find towels; the chaos scatters people around the apartment. In the confusion you and Jeongin end up together in the hallway, giggles muffled by a linen closet door. He leans in, pecks your temple—quick, fizzy—and whispers, “Missed you.”

You kiss him properly, one arm braced against the closet shelf. The moment is harmless; three seconds, four, tops. But when you step back, Hyunjin stands at the hallway entryway, holding a roll of paper towels and the world’s most theatrical gasp.

His shout is gleeful betrayal: “Well, well, well!” Within heartbeats the entire friend-group crowds the hallway like spectators at a street performance. Marshmallow stickiness still dots Jeongin’s lips; your pulse thrashes in your ears.

Someone—probably Chan—fires the first question: “How long?”

Jeongin’s hand finds yours before you can tuck it away. “Officially since July. Unofficially since April when she beat my high score in Skeeball.”

Laughter bursts, half shock, half delight. Seungmin demands proof; Minji wants the meet-cute details; Woojin swears he “knew it” because you both started ordering the same bubble-tea topping. It’s a hurricane of voices, but none of them sound angry.

Still, you clear your throat. “We kept it quiet because… honestly, we liked having something that was just ours for a while.”

That lands. In the sudden hush, Jeongin squeezes your hand. “But we love you guys, too. So, surprise?”

Hyunjin, ever the chaos conductor, lifts his phone—he must have pocket-snatched it during the spill—snaps a picture of your interlaced fingers, and declares, “Group-chat update!” Chan slaps the phone down before the post can happen; privacy wins for once. Instead Minji herds everyone back to the coffee table, new rule announced: couples sit together for the lightning round.

Jeongin settles beside you on the rug, thigh pressed to yours in plain sight. The room feels warmer, as if the secret had been blocking airflow and someone finally cracked a window. Code Names resumes; clues fly; you and Jeongin share a grin whenever your teammate groans. At one point Seungmin deliberately gives the vaguest clue in history—“thing, five”—just to watch the two of you negotiate aloud and squirm.

Between turns, Jeongin leans close. “Rate the reveal?”

“Seven out of ten,” you whisper. “Could’ve done without the paparazzi entrance.”

He laughs. “Next time I’ll schedule the confession with catering and mood lighting.”

“You already had sangria and a linen closet. Peak romance.”

His grin softens into something gentler. Under the table, he traces tiny circles on your knuckles—the same pattern he uses when he falls asleep on the bus. And for the first time you don’t worry who sees. The love is out, messy and real, and the friend-group still stands. So does the thrill, blooming new at the edges: not secrecy this time, but possibility.

Minji clinks her glass for silence. “Final round—couples versus singles. Stakes: loser buys midnight hot-chocolate.”

Jeongin winks. “Ready to defend our honor, partner?”

You smile, slide a Code Names card his way. “Let’s spill more than sangria.”

And together you play: no secrets left to hide, only stories left to make.

The game-night chatter is still ringing in your ears when Jeongin steers you out into the cool street, fingers laced with yours. Laughter echoes from Minji’s balcony, but the city sidewalk feels like fresh air after hours of secret-turned-spotlight.

“Hyunjin’s staying at his studio, right?” Jeongin asks while unlocking his car. You nod—at least, that’s what you both remember from the group chat two days ago.

Fifteen minutes later you’re tumbling through the door of Jeongin’s apartment, shoes kicked off, adrenaline finally dipping into giggly exhaustion. He flicks on the kitchen light and pulls you in for a lazy forehead-to-forehead sway, murmuring, “We survived.”

You’re just about to suggest celebratory ramen when a low voice drifts from the hallway:

“Glad to hear it, lovebirds.”

Hyunjin rounds the corner in plaid pajama pants, toothbrush dangling from his mouth, one brow already halfway to outer space. You squeak. Jeongin actually yelps, stumbling back into the fridge.

“I—thought you were at the studio,” he stammers.

Hyunjin spits foam into a mug, wipes his mouth with regal nonchalance. “Was. Came home an hour ago. Congratulations on the worst hide-and-seek victory ever.” He eyes your intertwined hands, the flush still high on Jeongin’s cheeks. “And here I thought the hallway kiss reveal was spicy enough.”

Your mortification hits red-alert. Jeongin recovers first, clearing his throat. “Hyung, please don’t make it weird.”

Hyunjin grins like a cat presented with two canaries. “Weird? No. Entertaining? Absolutely.” He points the toothbrush at you. “Hope you like third-wheeling; my room’s AC is broken.”

You answer before Jeongin can sputter. “Hope you like sleep-talkers, because Jeongin recites grocery lists at 3 a.m.”

Jeongin groans. Hyunjin cackles. The tension dissolves into teasing jabs until Hyunjin waves a truce. “Fine, I’m just brushing my teeth. Carry on with your post-credits romance—but maybe keep it PG; these walls are thin.”

He disappears, footsteps fading down the hall. Jeongin turns to you, face the color of his stage blush. “I swear he wasn’t supposed to be here.”

You loop your arms around his neck, laughter bubbling. “Looks like the universe refuses to give us closed doors tonight.”

He kisses your forehead. “Then let’s just ignore the doors.” With a mock-dramatic spin he bows, offers his hand. “Kitchen ramen date?”

“Kitchen ramen date,” you confirm, linking fingers.

As the pot begins to simmer, you share stolen noodles, hushed jokes, and the quiet certainty that the secret is out, the roommate is home, and somehow everything is exactly right.

[babybearnation]

Musician Liam Lawson x driver reader, Liam writes damn near a whole album about reader secretly until its released

-🦊

love this

musician!liam lawson x gn!f1 driver!reader

cw: brief mentions of reader crashing

you and liam met during the 2024 australian grand prix

he was invited as a guest by your team, red bull

shocked didn't even begin to describe your reaction when you first found out he was there

you were the biggest fan of liam ever and the second you saw him, you started babbling about how his debut album was the best ever and how his debut single was your pre-race anthem

liam was honoured - not only were you a big fan, but you seemed to genuinely see him for him, not just his music

and you were hot!

that couldn't hurt, right?

you two exchanged numbers and it was a very fast yet genuinely sweet romance that quickly blossomed between you two

as the 2024 season came to an end, liam got to work on writing his long awaited second album

he already had an idea/theme in mind that he refused to share with you

you respected his decision even if it gnawed at you, not knowing what he was working on

liam was your boyfriend, of course, but he was also one of your all time favourite musicians and the lack of knowing was a bit miffing

it hurt liam to keep his work from you but he had good reason to!

you see, the new album... was all about you and his love for you

he couldn't exactly ruin that surprise now, could he?

his final moment of inspiration for his album came during the 2025 australian grand prix

you had crashed out, the wet track combined with the dodgy white paint sent your tyres loopy, spinning you into the barriers

liam's heart was in his throat but you said you were okay and got out of the car as quickly as you could

you had to go through medical and media before liam could see you but, somehow, you had this big big big smile on your face and it gave liam inspiration

how you remained so positive in the face of something so awful... he didn't get it

but it was so inspiring and he pulled out his notebook, scribbling down lyrics without paying attention to the eyes and cameras that kept flicking towards him

when you finally got back, you told liam you smiled after you got out of the car because you knew you'd be seeing him sooner rather than later

that killed him

flash forward to the 2025 singapore grand prix

you were starting on pole, your first pole ever, and that night after qualifying, liam finally let you listen to his album

it was coming out on monday but liam wanted you to listen first

you sat, listening to each and every song, soaking in all the lyrics & grooving to the melodies

its only when you get to the last song, titled 'albert park' that all the dots connect

the album was about you, all of the songs were about you

that made the title of the album make more sense - it was just the first letter of your name, and not some random placeholder

when the final song finished, you burst into tears and all but threw yourself at liam, babbling about how much you loved him and the album and thanking him so much for being your boyfriend

that made liam cry in turn, so you two were just sobbing on each other, thank yous and sweet words pouring from your mouths

by the time you two had stopped crying, it was already dark out

so you took his laptop out on the balcony as you sipped on orange juice and lemonade, the two of you discussing all the memories his album brought back up

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 4: (Original Spinet Theme)

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me lol).

Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2 here.

Chapter 3 here.

Commission cover art here.

Cover art poll here.

Chapter titles here.

Chapter 4 snippet here.

Thank you, @talisman975, for reading the parts of the chapter that I shared with you, as well as sharing your thoughts.

Tagging: @pokeycub

Enjoy ! <3

Heavy rainfall pelted down from the darkened skies on a Sunday in the Connecticut town of Gravesfield as a husband and wife were inside their home, enjoying each other's company, their love untouched by the storm brewing outside.

"Hello, little gentleman," Cadman said in a gentle tone, greeting and accepting the little blonde bundle that his wife placed in his arms.

"Look at that little face of yours," the brunette man commented with a chuckle, brushing aside the tiny, developing lock of hair growing above his son's forehead.

"You're already maturing into a handsome young man." Cadman soon pressed a kiss on Caleb's brow.

Even though Caleb was a bit of a handful, he was still a welcomed addition to the Wittebane family.

Cadman was content with holding and singing small songs to Caleb when he wasn't too exhausted, even if Caleb sometimes fussed.

After a significant amount of trial and error, the father found that carving small gifts or taking his son outside to observe the cardinals perched on tree branches were the most effective methods of soothing him.

Patience, who was about to give birth to another child in eight months, smiled at the two and kissed both of their cheeks before gazing down at Caleb.

"You're going to have a little brother to love, play with, and take care of when you're older, Caleb. Isn't that going to be so much fun?" the blonde mother asked.

Caleb gurgled excited baby noises at that news, causing both of his parents to laugh.

The blonde was already a very lively and cheerful boy at only 5 months old.

...

Small, dotted eyes that are cornflower blue slowly begin to open as Baby Philip witnesses the faces of his father and brother for the first time while being held gently by his mother as she sat up in bed, her back against her pillow.

As all three members of his family cast their warm, sunny smiles down on him, Philip reacts to the love he's receiving like a flower.

His small smile grows immensely as his little baby hands reach up without hurry to touch his parents and brother, which causes them to roar with hearty laughter.

A montage commences as the laughter in the room transitions to the start of this song.

...

As Kid Philip bolts into his shared bedroom, Caleb follows behind him at a slower speed, wielding a quill in his left hand.

The brunette proceeded to press his back against the wall behind his room door as he stood up straight, smiling fondly at his brother as he looked forward, sweet blue eyes gazing into warm brown ones.

Caleb, smiling back at his younger sibling, placed the pen horizontally above Philip's head, its tip facing the wall.

Moving the tip across the wall, the blonde creates a short, straight mark over Philip's head.

After Philip steps away from the wall, Caleb begins to record both his brother's height and age on it, with his height being written on the left side of the mark while his age is written on the right.

4. 5 feet - five-years-old

…

The early summer sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky, casting warmth across the atmosphere as Caleb cheerfully assisted his mother in churning butter on their farm, her hands over his as they cranked away at the churner.

Chirp-chirp-chee!

As Caleb gazes at the trees on the other side of the farm, believing that's where the chirps came from, the short, soft trills continue as a bird with vibrant red plumage flutters down and finds a comfortable spot to perch on.

Chrip!

Looking to his collarbone, Caleb spots a small male cardinal on his shoulder as he beams, brown eyes filled with excitement and wonder at the northern bird.

Patience gave a small, sweet laugh at her son's excitement, smiling fondly at both him and the cute little cardinal that he had.

She moves her hand over to gently pat the bird's head with her finger, being careful not to mess up his smashing hairdo.

…

The churned butter is quickly incorporated into a combination of wet and dry ingredients to create a cake topped with strawberries for Philip's 6th birthday, which is quietly celebrated in secret among the family.

…

Philip and his father exited a shop on All Hallows' Eve as the full moon illuminated the dark night sky.

The new carving knife Cadman had purchased to carve pumpkins at home with his boys was put in his pocket.

The two then heard a chorus of slow, lifeless moans coming from behind them and stopped in their tracks.

Cadman and Philip felt danger approaching as they slowly turned around and saw dozens of undeceased "witches" who had emerged from the dead, clearly seeking vengeance for their unjustified killings.

They were lumbering forward toward, in their eyes, two living sacks of human flesh that they planned to bite and have join in on their revenge crusade.

With wide eyes and a pounding heart, Cadman's instincts to protect his child quickly kicked in as he grabbed Philip's hand and soon bolted away from the pale green fiends.

Seconds later, Philip charges back at the death-dealing savages with his wooden sword, ready to send them all back to Heck where they belong, only for Cadman to bolt back after him.

Hurriedly snatching his son back with his right arm, Cadman takes off out of town, carrying Philip under his arm to prevent him from fleeing again.

…

With his boots and farm attire on, Cadman was ready to harvest his November crops.

His wife pulled out his brown leather hat from behind her back, placed it on his head, and planted a gentle kiss above his brow.

…

Cadman started cutting his crop stalks at a faster pace with his sickle as dark clouds surrounded the sky, not paying close attention to the sharp metal blade of his tool.

While working, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the agonizing scream he exclaimed pierced the air.

As he slowly raised the hand he used to clutch his stomach, he noticed a dark crimson stain on his hand and quickly went wide-eyed.

He had a horrific look on his face as lightning flashed across the sky.

It was clear to him that his accidental cut could lead to more serious complications if he didn't return home promptly and have his wife take care of it.

As he stood, he made an effort to move quickly, but his injury was causing him to stumble while hobbling.

…

The furious storm continued into the night as Patience rested back in her rocking chair, reading a Bible story to her boys as they both listened keenly, sitting criss-crossed on the rug.

An urgent and loud bang on the door startled the three as Patience set her husband's Bible down and went to answer it.

The shrill scream from their mother caught Philip and Caleb off guard as she quickly rushed past them.

She directed the two to remain where they were while she went to retrieve a dampened cloth.

Although the boys had no idea what was happening, the sound of their father moaning in pain made their fret visible on their faces.

…

The dark, dreary skies matched the sadness that was brewing in the air as an undertaker laid Cadman's body to rest.

Patience sobbed heavily into her hands, unable to watch her beloved being buried as she and her sons stood on the side.

During her crying, her boys begin to shed tears.

They both clutch the lower half of their mother's dress, tightly holding onto the fabric as she wraps her arms around them for comfort.

…

Patience found it difficult to adapt to widowhood and life as an independent mother, but it was something she had to endure.

She frequently blamed herself for the death of her husband.

However, the presence of her boys made things less dreadful for her.

Caleb and Philip consistently assisted Patience with household tasks and always knew how to make her smile.

…

When Patience fell ill to an unknown sickness, it was up to Caleb to take care of her since he was the oldest child, with Philip occasionally doing what he could to help.

With the house's finances becoming more scarce, Caleb struggled to bring down his mother's fever, only with a wet rag at his disposal as Patience became more and more ill with every passing day.

…

One day, when Philip arrived home with a sack of apples that Caleb had instructed him to buy, he heard a faint echo of crying.

The reverberation spread throughout the hallway.

When Philip neared the dining room, he saw his brother with his head down on the table, wailing almost grievingly.

As Caleb slowly raised his head, he saw Philip and felt the weight of everything weighing heavily on him.

He stood up and ran to hug his brother tightly.

Philip was able to quickly understand what had occurred based on Caleb's emotions and was unable to move.

When the sack fell from his grasp and hit the ground, apples tumbled onto the floor.

Caleb was embraced with the same level of tightness by Philip, who quietly cried in his brother's arms.

…

At least Cadman and Patience were now buried side by side, as both Philip and Caleb couldn't imagine the two being apart even in death.

…

The death of their parents made neither boy want to remain in the house, as it was not the same without Cadman and Patience present.

Not only did the atmosphere lack the love of their parents, but the house's structure was starting to break down as well.

They needed a new house to live in.

…

Before they set off on their search for a new home, Caleb went into the chicken coop and said goodbye to all the birds that came into contact with him while Philip went into the stables.

Approaching his favorite brown stallion, the two proceeded to have a heart-to-heart as Philip reached up and gently ran his hand through the horse's mane while the horse pushed his nose into his palm.

A hug was soon given by Philip as he wrapped one arm around the horse's neck.

…

While the two brothers were walking hand in hand through the woods, they came across a brown wooden cottage at the end of the woods.

The wood was slightly worn, and shutters were dangling from their hinges on the two front windows, as observed by both of them.

As Caleb contemplated whether or not he and Philip should enter the house, an enthusiastic Philip ran toward the cottage.

Surprised by the sudden action, Caleb followed after, catching up with his brother as they entered the house.

Based on its current weathered condition, the wooden house seemed to belong to no one.

Well, no one except for the Wittebanes now.

…

At night, Philip had trouble falling asleep in his shared room as he heard Caleb's muffled cries, the blonde quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Caleb's current state left Philip feeling sad and sympathetic, prompting him to turn his gaze to the ceiling, fold his hands, and silently pray for God to bring his brother joy again.

Subsequently, he thanks God for taking care of the souls of his parents while they are in heaven.

…

Caleb awakens Philip the next day with a smile and eagerly urges him to get out of bed.

He wants to mark his height on their wall.

4. 6 feet - eight-years-old

Philip's growth excites both him and his brother as they cheer.

Caleb lifts Philip up and spins him around with joy, while the brunette giggles in delight as the music and montage come to a satisfying end.

...

"It looks like you're getting taller and taller every day, Pip," Caleb remarked with a sunny smile as he finished cooking breakfast for his brother on the black cast iron skillet.

He used the remaining flour, eggs, milk, and sugar to make it.

"Mm-hm!" Philip happily hummed in agreement with Caleb while seated at the dining room table with a wooden plate in front of him.

"Someday, I may even grow taller than you, Caleb," the brunette claimed with a great deal of confidence as he casted a playful grin, and his eyes immediately lit up at the the pancake being slipped onto his plate.

The cake was lumpy, as Caleb's always were, but Philip still enjoyed them nonetheless.

The blonde began to chuckle as he walked over to the water bucket and placed the used skillet inside it.

Returning to the table with a small glass bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet, Caleb poured the remaining amount onto Philip's pancakes.

Upon seeing the sweet, golden syrup flowing down on his food, the youngest's lips started curling up.

However, he noticed two empty chairs at the table, which were the seats his parents could have been sitting in alongside him if they were still alive.

His head began to swell with memories of them making the mornings more lively as he sighed, gazing down at his lap.

Caleb quickly noticed his fading smile and stopped pouring.

Philip soon felt a comforting hand gently make contact with his shoulder and slowly looked up to see his brother shining a small, reassuring smile at him.

Philip attempted to generate a smile of his own to reciprocate but was unable to do so.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked, setting the syrup bottle down and taking a seat next to Philip.

Philip was quiet.

"Is it about... them?"

Caleb was aware that the loss of both of their parents was a sensitive topic.

Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, and also...," he softly said before pausing, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's school," he admitted with a soft sniffle before continuing. "It's not the same without you, Caleb. Without you there, the other children don't seem to be fond of or interested in being around me."

The news he heard made the elder feel terrible as he looked at Philip's sad face.

Caleb's role as the household's breadwinner forced him to stop attending school and start working various jobs around town.

Working excessively made him feel fatigued, but it was for the benefit of Philip.

Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother.

"I see...," the blonde said solemnly as he sighed but then managed to smile again.

"Hey, Philip," he began, wiping away his brother's fallen tears with his thumb.

"When you get back from school, let's play some of our favorite games together. I might even make you a surprise when I get back from working."

"Really?!" Philip gasped loudly as he sniffled, his smile reappearing on his face. "You promise?"

"I do," Caleb pledged, keeping his tone soft, as he and Philip proceeded to link their pinkies together.

...

"Are you all packed and ready for school, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip while standing at the front door with him.

Philip responded to the question with an energetic head nod while wearing his brown neck satchel.

He patted the bag twice with his left hand to indicate that everything he needed was inside it.

Caleb then quirked a brow and smirked with playful suspicion as he continued.

"You didn't include any dead birds or live snakes in your satchel, did you?"

Philip gave a simple smile before shaking his head.

"Philip..."

"I didn't!"

Behind his back, the brunette concealed his crossed fingers.

"I promise!"

Caleb smiled at his trustworthy little brother before opening the door, not feeling the need to check his satchel. "Good!"

He proceeded to embrace Philip tightly with love.

"Have a good day at school then," he whispered. "We'll see each other later."

The brunette hugged his brother back. "Okay, Caleb."

He hoped their hug would last forever, but as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once it did, Philip began his journey to school and turned to wave at Caleb.

"Bye, Caleb!"

Upon returning the wave, Caleb smiled. "Bye, Pip!"

Following Philip's departure, Caleb closed the door and headed for the stairs, needing to prepare for the busy day he knew he was going to have.

Knock, knock!

"Oh?"

Caleb proceeded to return to the door and opened it once again, believing that Philip must have forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.

On the opposite side, an older, familiar figure stood, gently holding a hen against his body.

He exhibited a lengthy white beard, tattered brown overalls, no shoes, and a brown hat that covered his bald head.

"Good morning!" Mr. Kookman chirped in a crackly and friendly tone, raising a hand up to greet Caleb while still maintaining a firm hold on his wife, Henrietta.

Yes, his wife.

She was a wonderful hen.

Mr. Kookman was the local kook and a neighbor to Caleb and Philip.

He resided inside the woods.

The man would frequently visit their doorstep to request essentials, such as...

"Could I borrow some spare breeches?" he politely asked as Henrietta clucked.

"Henrietta said good morning as well," Mr. Kookman informed Caleb with a chuckle.

"... Uh..." The blonde shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head, shining a nervous smile.

He aspired to be polite, but at the same time, he was unsure about what to say.

...

Jesus Christ and one of his disciples, a name who went by the title 'The Witch Hunter Emperor', were casually mandering through a market.

The Emperor wore a large cape with white, brown, and gold trim under his Puritan attire, representing strength, righteousness, and purity.

As the two observed the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, the ground began to make slight movements, which soon became violent.

Citizens and sellers began to flee as panicked screams filled the air.

The shaking suddenly stopped, resulting in the appearance of a massive green serpant with small demon wings emerging from the ground.

The snake's menacing gaze is directed at Jesus and the Emperor, and it suddenly lunges at them.

...

"... And after they defeated the serpant with the power of prayer, Gravesfield is saved thanks to Jesus and his disciple, The Witch Hunter Emperor!"

Philip's smile beamed with sinless pride as he stood before his entire class, displaying his childlike journal illustration of Jesus and The Witch Hunter Emperor being tossed in the air by the cheering citizens for defeating the serpent.

"..."

The brunette was expecting a more boisterous reaction from his classmates rather than blank stares.

"Philip, can you explain what any of that has to do with the Ten Commandments?" his teacher asked with a tired sigh while sitting at her desk.

"Uh..." As Philip's smile slowly faded, his cheeks and ears blushed pink, and he turned away from the teacher's gaze and looked at the floor.

His tired teacher signed once more. "Go take your seat."

Philip quickly looked up. "But--,"

His teacher's sharp, sour expression instructed him to refrain from speaking back and immediately take his seat, which he did.

Despite some of his peers still choosing to look at him, Philip attempted to pay attention as another student was called up to the front.

...

After the teacher rang her handheld bell, the class was dismissed as students started to leave and go to the door.

As Madison was beginning to walk out of the school door...

"Hello, Madison!" A cheerful Philip did not hesitate to greet his crush as he popped his head up from the bush that grew on the left side of the school entrance.

He was intentionally waiting for her to come out after him so that he could ask her a question.

"Eee!" Madison's surprise was palpable as she quickly turned her attention to the bush on her left.

The redhead with her hair in a bun bonnet saw Philip.

"Philip?" she asked as she blinked a few times, wondering what the brunette was doing in the bush.

Philip nodded. "May I smell your hair?" he requested kindly with a smile.

His brother instilled in him the importance of using good manners.

"Uh... sure?" Madison told him tentatively as she leaned the side of her face forward, allowing Philip to get a whiff of her hair, despite his question to do so being odd.

Once he did, his face instantly lit up. "Madison, your hair! It smells so pretty!"

"Oh!" The compliment caused a bit of blush to appear on her cheeks as she smiled. "Thank you, Phil--"

"Did you take a bath?" Philip gave a smile as he thought his question was a flattering remark.

However, Madison didn't take it that way.

She let out an offended gasp, giving Philip a glare as she started to walk away, clearly upset by his choice of words.

"W-Wait!" Philip stammered as he stretched out his hand, not wanting Madison to go.

The redhead came to a stop on her leather shoes and turned around.

"What?" she growled with flushed cheeks, attempting to suppress her tears.

Philip opened his satchel and reached inside, grabbing the dead bird and living snake that were inside.

"L-Look! I have presents for you!" he shyly squeaked out as he smiled a nervous smile.

Madison's eyes widened at the two animals in his hands as she admitted a terrified shriek and quickly took off.

"You're weird!" she shouted while running.

Hearing those words echo in his head, Philip felt his heart split in two.

"Oh...," he softly said as he felt his shoulders and head drop, slowly letting go of the bird and snake.

...

Caleb walked along the path in the woods that would lead him to town.

'Alright then, Caleb,' he began to tell himself in his mind, his tone commanding and determined. 'Your first duty when you arrive in town is to help Mr. Town Minister.'

Caleb acknowledges what he mentally instructed himself to do with a nod.

Caleb's arrival in town triggers a montage of him working at his various jobs.

...

With buckets of soapy water and soaked sponges, Caleb and Mr. Town Minister started to remove the vandalism that was written all over the meeting house by an unknown witch.

The minister scrunched his brows and grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed away the impertinent insults that were written about him.

Meanwhile, Caleb had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing at the sentence that said, 'Mr. Town Minister is a doo-doo head'.

It could have all been inside Caleb's head, but he swore he could hear someone cackling a witch-like cackle in the distance, but he couldn't see them.

...

After the vandalism was removed, Mr. Town Minister thanked Caleb and presented him with his payment, which consisted of a basket containing a small pouch of coins.

...

An image of Caleb's basket slides down the scene, transitioning it to the town bakery.

Inside, Mrs. Doughberry hands Caleb a brown sack filled with expired baked goods and orders him to take them behind her shop to bury them.

Once that task is completed, his payment, a small slice of mildly sweet vanilla cake, is added to his basket as the scene transitions to Mr. Bartlett's horse barn.

Opening the stable doors while holding a pitchfork and bucket, Caleb's nose is immediately hit with the foul stench of horse manure.

He scrunches up his nose and grimaces, staying close to the wide, barn doors.

Although he didn't want to go inside, he knew he had to in order to continue sustaining his brother and himself, so he slowly entered and closed the doors behind him.

After the stables were free of manure and smelled a lot better, Mr. Bartlett dropped a small pouch stuffed with coins into Caleb's basket.

...

Caleb is seen resting his back against a tall tree in the center of the woods, using a scrub to gently brush the feathers of a calm Henrietta as she sat on his lap as if sitting on an egg.

Each brush stroke results in her releasing a soft cluck as she settles more into Caleb.

After the final scrub, Caleb walks over to Mr. Kookman and hands his wife over to him.

He beams and spins her with joy, taking note of her well-brushed feathers.

Tucking Henrietta under his arm, Mr. Kookman begins to take Caleb's payment out of his pocket.

Pulling out his basket from behind his back, the blonde receives a half-bitten woolen sock as his neighbor gives him a genuine smile.

Caleb smiles awkwardly at him, choosing to remain polite while thanking Mr. Kookman as the montage ends.

...

"Oh, Philip!"

Caleb was cheerful and upbeat as he opened the cottage door and stepped inside, holding his basket filled with earnings from a day of hard work as he closed the door.

Silence persisted in the air as the elder didn't receive a response.

'Hmm, perhaps he hasn't arrived home yet?' Caleb pondered to himself as he headed toward the dining area.

As the blonde arrived in the room, he suddenly gasped as he froze at the entrance, staring at the dejected sight.

The air was still with silence and sorrow.

"Philip?" A concerned Caleb called out quietly to his brother as he hurried over to the table, taking a seat beside him.

He placed his basket down before placing a comforting hand on his back, rubbing the area with great gentleness.

"What's wrong?"

No answer.

"Did something happen at school?"

No reply from the brunette.

After another brief pause, Caleb chose to ask another question, this one more well-considered.

"Would you like to have a discussion about it once you're ready to talk?"

Philip didn't respond right away, but when he did, he replied with a small sigh and nodded his head, which was down on the table.

"Very well then, Pip," Caleb whispered, managing to shine a small smile down on his brother.

"Take your time. There's no rush. Do you recall the surprise I promised to make for you when I came home?"

"Yes?" A silent Philip finally spoke, his tone soft and tearful.

"Well, how about you watch me work on it. As it's being crafted, you can make guesses on what it is. How does that sound?"

As Philip slowly looked up at his brother, his lips perked into a soft, bittersweet smile.

"That sounds like fun," he said, still thinking a bit about what happened between him and his crush.

...

With a bright smile and hands placed politely on his knees while sitting criss-crossed, Philip keenly watched his brother begin to add an eye hole to the wooden surprise he was carving for him.

"Oh, oh! I already know what you're making me, Caleb!" Philip excitedly exclaimed with a small bounce as he directed his finger at the progressing work.

"You're making me a mask!"

Caleb chuckled as he confirmed Philip's answer with a nod while seated on the sitting room stump, carefully sinking his knife into the second eye hole he was creating.

"That's right, Pip, I am," Caleb said, carving holes in the top part of the mask. "And I'm almost finished, too!"

"You are? Hooray!" Philip cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

The elder gestured for the younger to hand him the two antler-shaped branches that were lying nearby on the floor, and once he did so with a giggle, Caleb attached them inside the holes like horns.

"Ooo, they look like mandibles!" Philip beamed out with a wide smile.

Caleb gave a chuckle. "Mandi-what, Pip?" he asked, puzzled by the new word.

"They're the mouthpart of an insect," Philip explained. "Beetles have them!"

Beetles were his favorite insects.

"Ooooh!" Caleb went in realization. "Hmm... I thought they looked more like deer antlers."

After a short-lived thought, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they can be both."

...

After affixing a string onto the mask, Caleb was finally done.

He smiled fondly at his creation, then at Philip.

"Look, Pip, I've finished your mask!" Caleb said, showing it to Philip. "Come try it on!"

Philip gasped.

"Oh, boy!" Springing toward Caleb, Philip took his new mask and placed it on his face.

"How is it?" Caleb inquired while watching blue eyes blink inside the rounded eye holes.

"It's..."

A shaky smile started to spread on Caleb's face as he watched Philip slowly direct his gaze to the ground in an almost eerie manner.

He didn't even notice his eye holes growing hollow.

Caleb silently prayed that his brother liked the mask.

"... Awesome!" Philip looked up to Caleb with a big smile, his eyes visible once more, which made the blonde breathe out a sigh of relief and wipe his brow.

"How do I look?"

"So cool!" Caleb complimented as he continued. "If a witch came across you, they would certainly perceive you as one of them."

Knowing that got Philip pumped, imagining himself as a great Witch Hunter General who managed to trick every witch he met wearing his mask before leading them to their deaths.

"Yay!" Philip beamed before speedily wrapping Caleb in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, Caleb! Now we can play..."

"Witch Hunters!"

Both boys beam at the same time as they enthusiastically emerge behind a shiny pastel background filled with shimmering skulls and severed witch heads, with the words "Witch Hunters!" above them in rainbow glitter letters.

With Philip's wooden sword raised triumphantly in the air and Caleb, wearing his witch hat and cape during this moment, now raising his clenched fist, the scene transitions to the woods.

...

"Get back here, you speedy little witch hunter!"

"You'll never catch me, you fowl witch!"

Caleb, the wildest and most cunning witch in Gravesfield, was quite fast, but not as fast as Philip, the greatest and most feared witch hunter who ever lived.

A small, stealthy smile crept across Caleb's lips as he continued his mission to catch Philip, sharp brown eyes trying to pick out any sign of the hunter.

Caleb became more vigilant with every rustle of the leaves and trees, every crunch and snap of the twigs he stepped on, and every shadow that seemed to move independently.

Upon hearing a rustle behind a nearby bush, Caleb sprinted and was prepared to jump on it.

While running, he heard Philip taunt him from a distance and stopped, keenly listening.

"I'm not there, you silly witch. If you want to see me, you must go further," Philip advised, his daring voice echoing through the woods.

Caleb let out a giggle as he walked toward where he heard the echo.

This was by far his and Philip's most fun game of Witch Hunters yet.

"There you are, witch hunter!" Caleb approached Philip, who he saw standing on a small, rocky hill.

"So, this is where you chose to hide from me," he cackled, not paying much attention to the brown rope end that Philip was holding.

Philip shook his fist. "I wouldn't come closer if I were you, witch!" he warned, which only made Caleb cackle once more as he took another step.

"Oh, yeah?" the blonde hummed in a playful tone, holding up both of his hands as he was ready to cast a witchy spell.

Ominously wiggling his fingers, he asked, "And why's that?"

Caleb was standing precisely in the spot where Philip desired him to be.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that he had fallen into his trap with such ease.

Pulling tightly onto the rope end, the noose that was spread on the ground entraps Caleb as he loses balance and falls.

"That's why, witch!" Hopping down from the hill, Philip pulls out his wooden sword and raises it up over Caleb.

"Now DIE!" Philip roars, his eye holes hollow as he repeatedly plunges his weapon into Caleb's stomach.

The elder smiles broadly and closes his eyes, hanging his tongue out.

The "witch" was now "dead".

Placing his foot on the now "deceased demon", Philip takes on a heroic stance and wholeheartedly states, "Gravesfield is once again safe thanks to Witch Hunter General Philip!"

"Alright, Witch Hunter General," Caleb began as he broke character and opened his eyes.

"Time for us to play a different game," he chuckled with a smile.

...

A trio consisting of a woman in a coif and two men, one with dark hair and one with blonde hair, strolled smoothly through the town market.

As they began passing by a large wooden crate that was situated between two empty vendor booths...

PBBBT!!!

The horrendous sound immediately caused the three to stop, and they awkwardly shifted glances at one another, wondering who broke wind.

The woman, offended by the fact that the two gentlemen who were accompanying her would even assume that she would do such a sinful thing in public, begins to glare daggers at the two.

Tap, tap, tap, went her foot as she awaited for one or both of them to confess and repent.

When they didn't, the men both received sharp slaps to the faces from the woman as she huffed and walked away.

PBBBT!!!

Both men stared awkwardly at one another as they slowly backed away from each other.

Behind the crate, the faintest of giggles could be heard.

"I can't believe you convinced me to play such a game, Pip," whispered a giggly Caleb, who had just witnessed his brother blow the loudest raspberry. "It's so silly. If we get caught, we'll get into so much trouble."

"We won't," a giggly Philip whispered in a hushed tone as he pointed a finger at upcoming people. "Oh look, more people are coming, Caleb!"

Both boys began to form playful smiles.

A montage begins as various people pass by the crate that Philip and Caleb are hiding behind.

They hear a sharp and sudden raspberry, which they mistakenly believe is flatulence.

Their reactions, which were either confusion, shock, disgust, or embarrassment, cause the boys to chuckle quietly every time.

Caleb's chuckle attack is a result of Philip imitating a few of their reaction faces.

The boys continued to blow raspberries and softly laugh until the sky turned purple-black and was filled with stars, leading to the end of the montage.

...

"The sky sure is pretty, isn't it, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip.

The blonde found himself getting lost in the beauty of the night sky as he gazed upward, him and his brother still seated behind the large wooden crate.

"Mm-hm," Philip hummed listlessly in agreement, sitting with his knees drawn up as he gazed downward at the dirt, dragging his pointer finger across it.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked brightly across the night sky.

Upon recalling his mother's words about shooting stars, Caleb gave a small gasp.

"Pip, look, look!" The blonde beamed, pointing a finger at the sky while gently tugging on his brother's yoke.

"Did you see that shooting star? It flew by so fast! We have to make a..."

As his brother sighed, Caleb gazed down at him, and all the enthusiasm in his voice slowly disappeared.

"... wish," he whispered, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong, Pip?"

Philip sighed once more. "Do you remember when you asked me if something happened at school while we were at the table?"

Caleb nodded. "I do." The elder wrapped his arm around Philip's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Well," Philip softly continued, resting his head on Caleb's shoulder. "There's this girl that I really..."

Philip paused, not ready to reveal his feelings for Madison to Caleb.

"She... I tried to give her gifts, but she ran away and said that... I was weird."

"I see," Caleb said, softly rubbing his brother's back. "And what were the gifts you attempted to give her?"

"A dead bird and a snake," Philip revealed calmly. "They were really nice."

"O-Oh..." Caleb tried to conceal his shock by curling his lips into a small, caring smile.

"Well, you really like to write, Pip. Maybe you can write her an apology letter. I'll even try to help you with it. In addition to the letter, you can also give her gifts that are more... suitable for girls."

"Like what?" Philip asked innocently, looking up at his brother.

"Like... flowers!" Caleb answered. "Girls really like flowers. It's possible that if you gave this girl some flowers, she would really start to like you."

"Really?" The brunette started to perk up, knowing that they had flour at home.

Caleb nodded.

"Well, she did seem to really like it when I told her that her hair smelled pretty," Philip said, reminiscing on the moment as slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"I then asked her if she took a bath, but that's only because there's no way your hair could smell that good if you hadn't bathed, right Caleb?"

Before Caleb could react and respond to his brother's statement and question, both boys fell silent to the sound of upcoming footsteps.

Slowly poking their heads up, they both proceeded to see the shadow of a cloaked figure about Caleb's height, but slightly shorter, dawdling down the walkway.

The figure appeared feminine and had fluffy hair under their hood.

"Who is that?" Philip whispered, in which Caleb shrugged in response.

When the cloaked figure abruptly stopped between the crate and a booth on the right, they turned their head to the left, and Caleb and Philip quickly sunk down.

The mysterious figure's footsteps approached, causing both boys to feel their hearts race.

As the figure slowly attempts to peer behind the crate to determine who is present...

"THERE YOU ARE, WITCH!"

The figure, alarmed by the shouting, raises their head to see Mr. Town Minister running toward them.

Without delay, they start taking off immediately.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" the minister shouted once more as the cat and mouse chase between him and the figure continued.

A loud, witchy cackle was heard by the figure due to their speed advantage over the minister.

'There's that same laugh from earlier today...' thought Caleb as he and Philip snuck off in the direction that led them out of town.

...

"... Did you see the way the minister was chasing that witch?"

As Philip asked his question, his blue eyes were big and bright with admiration while Caleb nodded with a smile and a yawn as both boys entered their home.

After the front door was closed, Caleb continued to follow Philip.

"He's so brave!" the brunette beamed with cheer as he and his brother were nearing the dining room.

"I hope that when I become a Witch Hunter General, I'll be just as good at hunting witches as he is."

"Yeah, me too!" Caleb said, his smile still present as he yawned out a second yawn.

As soon as they entered the dining area, both boys gasped and widened their eyes at the unwelcome guest in the room.

"Hey!" Philip's shout seems to attract the attention of the white-tailed deer near the table.

It froze for a moment before lifting its head out of Caleb's basket, fixing its gaze on the two children.

The boys and the deer's stares were short-lived as the woodland animal used its teeth to grab hold of the basket handle before making a beeline for the sitting room, which caused Philip and Caleb to gasp and quickly give chase after it.

Choas and commotion dominated the atmosphere as rambunctious footsteps rang out from the running.

...

The Wittebane household was now in tune with the quietness of the night as faint and gentle snores could be heard in the sitting room.

Philip, Caleb, and the deer were sleeping in a cluster on the rug in the room, under a large blanket that was draped over them.

Meanwhile, the basket was atop the sitting room's stump.

[10daysto1k]

connections

mod kati here coming to you today as the "I've connected the dots" meme. here are some fics in our challenge so far that are not actually related but have the same theme or share features - which I think is pretty neat!!

Two fics that show Andrew (AFTG) covering his scars

tomorrow's memories by @mostlymaudlin

seeds in a garden you get to see by @embraceweird

Two fics that feature citrus shampoo

irreplaceable by celestialruin

so delicately by idreamtyou

Two fics with a mitski-inspired title

mercy on me (would you please spare me tonight?) by celestialruin

i bet on losing foxes by @pipedreamaddy

Two fics about the first time Wilhelm saw Simon (Young Royals)

Fate by juke38

melodious and beautiful and true by @starvalisedham

And before you say "oh no, someone already did my idea??" remember - two cakes are always better than one :)

[smahell]

op pleASE TELL US MORE ABOUT VAS 🗣️‼️

oh you gettin it all..

fun facts about the obey me vas : steering away from their more famous roles and investing in the niche!!

NB: i will assume that if you're reading this, you already know them by name! the point of this post is to recognize their works outside of obey me, so i will not be refering to them as "lucifer's va" or "mammon's va".

go watch all the otaku fm (except sinful sounds; i'll save you a good 20 mins of time better spent here) and boys in the house episodes!! they're hilarious, funny, and a great "get to know them".

+ this post is very link heavy! it's a lot more about you experiencing these videos clips and overall pieces of media just like I did! and to save myself repeating, a lot of this content is in japanese. it might not be what necessarily makes them niche, but i genuinely think it's worth dipping your toes into other projects the vas have been in if you find yourself uninterested in obey me.

miura ayme used to be in a band called ecthelion, where its most unique features was the using hatsune miku in (almost) every song; the majority of their albums and songs have been posted here to listen to -- ignore their spotify, it's only a dot on their whole discography.

.. however there's only one song where they didn't use hatsune miku titled "Ecthelion Academy Theme", the theme song to an audio drama series recorded in around august 2013 (snidely mentioned by ayme on an otaku fm episode) called Ecthelion Academy. you can find the episodes untranslated here!

wondering if there's any other audio dramas ayme has written? he currently writes for a series called Spicy Cafe, featuring Spicy Boys with Sugar Boy, a voice actor unit consisting of Ayme and four other voice actors! you can buy CDs of the dramas here (only shipping to japan, though you may be able to use a proxy service address to ship it internationally) and watch their youtube channel here; i highly recommend the latter, some streams have rough fan translations within the comments to read and laugh about. Spicy Cafe is still an ongoing series, with around 4 volumes and 2 seasons, and Spicy Boys still do events and concerts within Japan.

Kada is an on a YouTube channel called "Shokunana", a "privately run business" which "[promotes] flowers and greenery! he's listed in the channel description as an actor/talent who makes appearances in his own series on the channel. they upload every other day around noon JST. these aren't translated either, but they're still very entertaining to watch even without auto translate :)

below is a photo of koba-san's (mammon's va) qualifications, translated:

notable talents include "fried chicken certification", "french fry ambassador certification" and "harmonica playing". genuinely tried reverse searching these qualifications in japanese and found nothing. he's one talented guy.

kyohei voice acted in an "anime" called SHIRANAMI THE TV, which is "a fantasy about reforming society, featuring a group of five good-looking men", and based on japanese folklore. I spent two hours watching the series, and I have to say, the vocal work and art is very entertaining!! please consider watching the two seasons available for free here - i think it'd be nice to see a season 3 with enough support!

thanks for readinggg; here are old photos I've found of them.. they all look the same as they do now even though these photos were taken in the early-mid 2010s <3 (NB: tho im not sure about the joint kada and sumi photo + i couldn't find any koba or yama photos.. might have to do more digging..)

most if not all of the main seven have youtube channels; here's a few that you might've missed out on!:

Koba-san's Channel

Yama-san and Koba-san's Joint Channel <- these feature english subtitles!

Kawata's Channel

Okaki's Channel

NB: anon I'm so sorrryyy for taking so long i wanted this post to be perfecttt

[lunareclipse-writes]

Title: Window Wars – Part 2: Window Games

Word Count: ~4,100

⚠️ Content Warnings – Part 2: "Window Games"

Strong Language: Frequent swearing and vulgar insults exchanged between characters.

Emotional Manipulation & Miscommunication: Rodrick continues to push the reader away despite emotional tension and past intimacy; includes avoidance and cold behavior that may be triggering to readers sensitive to rejection or emotional whiplash.

Sexual Tension: High levels of unresolved romantic and physical tension, including mutual window-watching, suggestive gestures, and near-voyeuristic teasing.

Public Confrontation: Embarrassing/shaming moment where Rodrick reacts poorly to public affection (verbal rejection).

Angst & Emotional Distress: Characters deal with emotional hurt, unreciprocated vulnerability, and moments of silent heartbreak.

Underage Themes: Set in high school; characters are 17–18. No explicit sexual content, but romantic/sexual themes are present.

---

🪟 Part 2: Window Games

The silence was worse than the arguing.

No more smudged paper notes, no more passive-aggressive stares across glass. Rodrick pulled his blackout curtain closed the day after the party and didn’t open it again.

You told yourself it was fine.

Fine that he was pretending nothing happened. Fine that you were doing the same. Fine that every time you tried to sleep, your brain replayed that kiss like it was burned into your lips.

Except it wasn’t fine.

It was driving you insane.

---

School didn’t help. You passed Rodrick in the halls, and he didn’t even give you the usual shoulder check. Not a glance. Not a smirk. Just… nothing.

It pissed you off.

So naturally, you retaliated in the pettiest way possible.

You opened your curtains again.

At 11 p.m. on the dot, you stripped your shirt off and stood by the window scrolling on your phone like it was completely normal. When nothing happened, you flicked your lights on and off a few times. Still nothing.

The next night, you pulled a chair to the window, turned your speaker on, and played Call Me Maybe on loop until your mom came in and threatened to throw it out the window and ground you.

Still, Rodrick’s curtain stayed closed.

It wasn’t a white flag—it was a goddamn wall.

---

The tension boiled over two weeks later.

You were walking home from school when you saw him in the garage with his band, practicing like nothing ever happened. You lingered on the sidewalk, heart pounding.

He didn’t even flinch.

You snapped.

You walked right up to the driveway, leaned against the doorframe, and shouted over the music, “What’s the matter, Heffley? Afraid I’ll kiss you again if you look me in the eye?”

The drums cut out.

Rodrick froze mid-chord. The entire garage went dead silent.

One of his bandmates let out a low, impressed “Oof.”

Rodrick turned slowly.

“Get the fuck out of my driveway,” he said flatly.

“You gonna make me?”

“I don’t hit people who look like they’ll cry from a paper cut.”

“I don’t kiss people who act like they’re scared of their own reflection.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

You turned and walked away before your voice cracked.

---

That night, the curtain was open again.

You were brushing your teeth when you noticed it. The faint glow of his LEDs backlighting his figure. Rodrick was leaning against the window frame, arms crossed, staring directly at you.

You didn’t flinch.

You met his gaze, deliberately, and spit your toothpaste into the sink. He raised one eyebrow. You raised both.

Then he smirked. Slow. Crooked.

And reached out with a marker to scribble on the glass: “You miss me?”

You stared at it. Your heart dropped, fluttered, caught fire.

You grabbed your own marker and wrote: “Like a rash.”

His smirk deepened.

Below his message, he added: “Liar.”

---

From then on, it was back. The war. The tension. The game.

But it wasn’t quite the same.

The insults were still there—sharp, fast, endless—but the tone shifted. There was heat in them now. Not just anger. Want.

He’d walk into class and drop a crumpled note on your desk. You’d open it to find a crude drawing of you getting hit in the face with a guitar, and scrawled under it: Still prettier than you deserve to be.

You’d leave a note on his windshield that read: Your eyeliner sucks. I could do it better.

He replied by showing up to school the next day with perfectly sharp wings and a smirk: Bet.

Your windows became your battleground again. Late nights turned into mutual staring contests.

One time, you watched him undress. Slowly. Intentionally. Shirt off, belt undone. He caught your eye and winked.

You didn’t look away.

Neither did he.

---

The line between hate and want blurred completely at the next party.

Rodrick hadn’t invited you.

That didn’t stop you from going.

You weren’t sure if it was to annoy him or because you were addicted to the chaos—but either way, you showed up, wearing black jeans and eyeliner that didn’t suck. People looked. Some stared. One guy tried to flirt, touching your arm, and from across the living room, you saw Rodrick freeze.

He stalked over like a wolf.

“You done playing dress-up, princess?” he snapped in your ear.

You turned. “You done pretending you don’t want me?”

Rodrick grabbed your wrist and yanked you through the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. Locked the door.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he said, voice low and trembling.

“No. I think I’m better at hiding it,” you shot back. “You look at me like you want to strangle me and pin me down.”

He didn’t deny it.

He grabbed your face and kissed you like he was starving.

This kiss was different. Less angry, more desperate. Lips crushed, teeth biting, hands tangled in hair and belt loops.

“God, you’re such a prick,” he breathed against your mouth.

“So are you,” you growled, pulling him closer.

He sat you on the edge of the sink, grinding against you, moaning softly as your teeth grazed his neck.

It was messy. Dangerous. Addictive.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Rodrick didn’t meet your eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he muttered.

You stiffened. “What?”

He opened the door without looking back. “Just… forget it.”

And then he was gone.

---

You didn’t sleep that night.

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, heart in your throat. Your window stayed open.

His didn’t.

You waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

---

On Monday, you didn’t speak.

On Tuesday, he avoided you entirely.

By Wednesday, the silence was unbearable again.

But this time… it hurt.

---

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Epilogue, Bonus

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Gala

very short but it is done. I am not a fashion person at all.

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

It was inevitable, some would say, that the new emperor would be invited.

Almost the moment the invitation arrived an urgent request had gone out to Palonirya, noting the invitation's existence and asking for her to present herself at the palace at her earliest convenience. A note was added that they could not possibly rely on another tailor, because of not only her reputation but also because as an Altmer she would surely know the significance and importance of this particular gala.

"What is the theme?" was the first thing she asked after the formalities were over.

"Daedra and divines," Haj-deek said, "The invitation was for both...the emperor and myself. We were thinking of doing some sort of paired costume, but of course we're willing to bow to your wisdom. Fashion is your domain, after all, and given your reputation the emperor is willing to go with whatever you come up with."

After a short discussion in which she gave various ideas, which the two of them debated over, Palonirya finally settled for saying, "Akatosh and Lorkhan. The emperor is famously fond of saying you complete him, and while Mara is held to be his wife...this is not a mere costume party. Of course the challenge lies in the many ways Lorkhan can be portrayed..."

The gala was not to be held for several months yet, so there was time for Palonirya to do sketching, and present them with ideas for the dual costume once the measurements of both were taken.

The two sketches were laid before them a week later.

"I expected these to be much flashier - not that I think you're gaudy, it's only that..."

"Fashion in the Summerset Isles can be as gaudy as here, or in Morrowind." Palonirya drew their attention first to Martin's outfit. "But elegance..."

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

"I'm not ready for this," Martin said, as the master of ceremonies was rattling off his titles. "I look ridiculous."

The fabric of his robe was a golden silk that seemed to darken the further down one looked, with a scaled cape of lighter hue hanging from his shoulders. The blood colored Amulet of Kings drew attention, naturally, but it was his head and hands that got the most looks.

Atop his head was an ivory helm that put one in mind of the commonly available Elven variety, but which instead of wings had horns that extended backward, between which were linked golden chains set with small rubies to simulate blood dripping from the tips.

On his forearms were carefully segmented gauntlets of some bony look, set at the end with jet black talons. But amidst the ivory was a snaking of black-painted filigree - in fact starting from the very spot where Haj-deek would hold to his arm.

"You look like an emperor."

"This is all very wasteful," he whispered back, "Even at my worst, I never spent this sort of coin on clothes."

"This is not about clothes." Haj-deek said. "And you know that. When it is all over you can auction it off to some wizard at the college, if you've a mind to. Besides. I think you look wonderful."

"You are the more beautiful one," Martin replied.

"You always say that."

"And I am always right."

Her gown was nearly all black or shades of other colors so dark they may as well be black, giving a snakelike appearance--with four exceptions. The gown cut somewhere around her knees, and an inch or two above that spot began to appear the rubies, sewn in to simulate, as they did with Martin's horns, the bleeding. The rubies followed the cut, and framed a look at the scarlet shoes she was wearing.

At her waist was a tied belt comprised entirely of linked golden scarabs, one end of which draped three or four inches too long. On her black lower lip was pressed a single golden dot.

And finally, from the black gloved hand that would hold to Martin's arm was threaded a sort of pearlescent thread stitched as though it followed her veins - leading directly to where her heart lay.

(Both would argue later, several times, over whose outfit drew more looks. Both would insist the other had shone more brightly. Both would agree to disagree.)

[theperksofbeingstupid]

little short thing i wrote inspired by johannis' comic and our conversations about domestic life in the ivete arthur kaiser household. set somewhere pre-desconjuração, like maybe a week before it starts. minor spoilers for a singular plot point :3 enjoy!!

Arthur wakes up to the sound of metal clanging. He's wearing one of the most worn out band shirts he owns, the print almost entirely rubbed out from repeated uses. It rode up some time in the night, and now he has to pull it down from somewhere around his armpit as he stumbles out of bed. It's early, way too early. Well, Joui always says he needs to fix his sleep schedule, and at least he's not as bad as Kaiser.

Judging by the colour of the sun peeking through his half shut curtains, Ivete's probably left by now. Even back in Carpazinha she would rise practically with the sun regardless of how late their shows would end. The thought doesn't ache in his chest.

There's another loud metal bang, which is weird, because there's no one else in the house other than Kaiser. And Kaiser has never gotten up before two in the afternoon. And Jennifer leaves with Ivete when she goes to the Order. And Arthur hasn't been sleeping well the last couple of weeks what with those eyes staring at him.

Oh fuck.

There's something in their house.

He scrambles out of his room, almost slipping on a stray sock by his door and braining himself on the door handle, but he manages to right himself in time to crash through Kaiser's door across the hall.

"Kaiser!" he yells, eyes darting around the room and falling on the empty bed. There's no signs of struggle, the bed freshly made and the curtain already pulled open to let in fresh air from an open window. But no Kaiser.

"Kaiser!" he tries again, growing more desperate. Lord knows there's probably some monster out there that makes beds to hide disappearances. Maybe it stole Kaiser through the open window. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. What is he gonna tell Ivete.

Arthur grabs the first thing he finds lying around in Kaiser's room before sprinting towards the other side of the house, something to defend himself. Which turns out to be a Força G themed pen he got Kaiser months ago, but he's worked with less.

The metal noises have grown quiet, now covered up by some sort of sizzling sound and voices coming from the kitchen. One voice in particular.

He rounds the corner brandishing the pen and comes face to face with a half asleep Kaiser wearing the world's thickest pyjamas in the middle of spring. Kaiser, who has not been kidnapped by some freak blood zombie, and is instead glaring at the stove in front of him. Arthur drops the pen and can't even surpress his gasp at the sight.

He feels his face light up in a smile, a natural reaction to seeing Kaiser. Arthur walks forward until he's shoulder to shoulder with him, and peers down at the countertop littered with cracked eggshells in the carton and a book titled Cooking For Dummies. Where'd that come from.

"Kaiser! You're already awake!" Arthur beams at Kaiser. He looks kind of like a disgruntled kitten, if kittens were tall and lanky and had bags the size of the Atlantic on their faces.

Kaiser grunts, "Barely," he cracks another egg on the edge of the pan and they both watch as it splatters next to another, the oil sizzling as it settles, "I'm making breakfast."

Arthur doesn't mention the fact that it's most definitely past time for breakfast. At least Kaiser's making real food this time.

"Aww," he says, a stupid smile probably plastered on his face. It's nice, seeing Kaiser this relaxed. He barely sleeps anymore, and it's the first time in ages he's actually come home to rest.

Kaiser rolls his eyes, Arthur isn't looking but he knows he is. They watch the eggs bubble up, droplets of oil marking the metal of the pan.

"It's literally just-"

They watch the eggs grow two black dots in the centre of the yolk. They watch as they start quivering, as they slowly start to stretch and distort, as they slowly split apart into two. Like cells multiplying. Like a yellow eye with two pupils. Watching them. Watching them. Always watching them.

"-eggs."

Was the tap turned off when Arthur walked into the kitchen?

He can't remember. It must've been, but then- why can he hear it dripping?

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 4 : Original Spinet Theme

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me, lol).

Ao3 version.

Previous Chapter 4.

Commission cover art.

Cover art poll.

Chapter titles.

Fic playlist 🎵 💕 🎶 ✨️ <3

Cover redraw.

Enjoy!

Heavy rainfall pelted down from the darkened skies on a Sunday in the Connecticut town of Gravesfield as a husband and wife were inside their home, enjoying each other's company, their love untouched by the storm brewing outside.

"Hello, little gentleman," Cadman said in a gentle tone, greeting and accepting the little blonde bundle that his wife placed in his arms.

"Look at that little face of yours," the brunette man commented with a chuckle, brushing aside the tiny, developing lock of hair growing above his son's forehead.

"You're already maturing into a handsome young man." Cadman soon pressed a kiss on Caleb's brow.

Even though Caleb was a bit of a handful, he was still a welcomed addition to the Wittebane family.

Cadman was content with holding and singing small songs to Caleb when he wasn't too exhausted, even if Caleb sometimes fussed.

After a significant amount of trial and error, the father found that carving small gifts or taking his son outside to observe the cardinals perched on tree branches were the most effective methods of soothing him.

Patience, who was about to give birth to another child in eight months, smiled at the two and kissed both of their cheeks before gazing down at Caleb.

"You're going to have a little brother to love, play with, and take care of when you're older, Caleb. Isn't that going to be so much fun?" the blonde mother asked.

Caleb gurgled excited baby noises at that news, causing both of his parents to laugh.

The blonde was already a very lively and cheerful boy at only 5 months old.

...

Small, dotted eyes that are cornflower blue slowly begin to open as Baby Philip witnesses the faces of his father and brother for the first time while being held gently by his mother as she sat up in bed, her back against her pillow.

As all three members of his family cast their warm, sunny smiles down on him, Philip reacts to the love he's receiving like a flower.

His small smile grows immensely as his little baby hands reach up without hurry to touch his parents and brother, which causes them to roar with hearty laughter.

A montage commences as the laughter in the room transitions to the start of this song.

...

As Kid Philip bolts into his shared bedroom, Caleb follows behind him at a slower speed, wielding a quill in his left hand.

The brunette proceeded to press his back against the wall behind his room door as he stood up straight, smiling fondly at his brother as he looked forward, sweet blue eyes gazing into warm brown ones.

Caleb, smiling back at his younger sibling, placed the pen horizontally above Philip's head, its tip facing the wall.

Moving the tip across the wall, the blonde creates a short, straight mark over Philip's head.

After Philip steps away from the wall, Caleb begins to record both his brother's height and age on it, with his height being written on the left side of the mark while his age is written on the right.

4. 5 feet - five-years-old

…

The early summer sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky, casting warmth across the atmosphere as Caleb cheerfully assisted his mother in churning butter on their farm, her hands over his as they cranked away at the churner.

Chirp-chirp-chee!

As Caleb gazes at the trees on the other side of the farm, believing that's where the chirps came from, the short, soft trills continue as a bird with vibrant red plumage flutters down and finds a comfortable spot to perch on.

Chirp!

Looking to his collarbone, Caleb spots a small male cardinal on his shoulder as he beams, brown eyes filled with excitement and wonder at the northern bird.

Patience gave a small, sweet laugh at her son's excitement, smiling fondly at both him and the cute little cardinal that he had.

She moves her hand over to gently pat the bird's head with her finger, being careful not to mess up his smashing hairdo.

…

The churned butter is quickly incorporated into a combination of wet and dry ingredients to create a cake topped with strawberries for Philip's 6th birthday, which is quietly celebrated in secret among the family.

…

Philip and his father exited a shop on All Hallows' Eve as the full moon illuminated the dark night sky.

The new carving knife Cadman had purchased to carve pumpkins at home with his boys was put in his pocket.

The two then heard a chorus of slow, lifeless moans coming from behind them and stopped in their tracks.

Cadman and Philip felt danger approaching as they slowly turned around and saw dozens of deceased "witches" who had emerged from the dead, clearly seeking vengeance for their unjustified killings.

They were lumbering forward toward, in their eyes, two living sacks of human flesh that they planned to bite and have join in on their revenge crusade.

With wide eyes and a pounding heart, Cadman's instincts to protect his child quickly kicked in as he grabbed Philip's hand and soon bolted away from the pale green fiends.

Seconds later, Philip charges back at the death-dealing savages with his wooden sword, ready to send them all back to Heck where they belong, only for Cadman to bolt back after him.

Hurriedly snatching his son back with his right arm, Cadman takes off out of town, carrying Philip under his arm to prevent him from fleeing again.

…

With his boots and farm attire on, Cadman was ready to harvest his November crops.

His wife pulled out his brown leather hat from behind her back, placed it on his head, and planted a gentle kiss above his brow.

…

Cadman started cutting his crop stalks at a faster pace with his sickle as dark clouds surrounded the sky, not paying close attention to the sharp metal blade of his tool.

While working, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the agonizing scream he exclaimed pierced the air.

As he slowly raised the hand he used to clutch his stomach, he noticed a dark crimson stain on his hand and quickly went wide-eyed.

He had a horrific look on his face as lightning flashed across the sky.

It was clear to him that his accidental cut could lead to more serious complications if he didn't return home promptly and have his wife take care of it.

As he stood, he made an effort to move quickly, but his injury was causing him to stumble while hobbling.

…

The furious storm continued into the night as Patience rested back in her rocking chair, reading a Bible story to her boys as they both listened keenly, sitting criss-crossed on the rug.

An urgent and loud bang on the door startled the three as Patience set her husband's Bible down and went to answer it.

The shrill scream from their mother caught Philip and Caleb off guard as she quickly rushed past them.

She directed the two to remain where they were while she went to retrieve a dampened cloth.

Although the boys had no idea what was happening, the sound of their father moaning in pain made their fret visible on their faces.

…

The dark, dreary skies matched the sadness that was brewing in the air as an undertaker laid Cadman's body to rest.

Patience sobbed heavily into her hands, unable to watch her beloved being buried as she and her sons stood on the side.

During her crying, her boys begin to shed tears.

They both clutch the lower half of their mother's dress, tightly holding onto the fabric as she wraps her arms around them for comfort.

…

Patience found it difficult to adapt to widowhood and life as an independent mother, but it was something she had to endure.

She frequently blamed herself for the death of her husband.

However, the presence of her boys made things less dreadful for her.

Caleb and Philip consistently assisted Patience with household tasks and always knew how to make her smile.

…

When Patience fell ill to an unknown sickness, it was up to Caleb to take care of her since he was the oldest child, with Philip occasionally doing what he could to help.

With the house's finances becoming more scarce, Caleb struggled to bring down his mother's fever, only with a wet rag at his disposal as Patience became more and more ill with every passing day.

…

One day, when Philip arrived home with a sack of apples that Caleb had instructed him to buy, he heard a faint echo of crying.

The reverberation spread throughout the hallway.

When Philip neared the dining room, he saw his brother with his head down on the table, wailing almost grievingly.

As Caleb slowly raised his head, he saw Philip and felt the weight of everything weighing heavily on him.

He stood up and ran to hug his brother tightly.

Philip was able to quickly understand what had occurred based on Caleb's emotions and was unable to move.

When the sack fell from his grasp and hit the ground, apples tumbled onto the floor.

Caleb was embraced with the same level of tightness by Philip, who quietly cried in his brother's arms.

…

At least Cadman and Patience were now buried side by side, as both Philip and Caleb couldn't imagine the two being apart even in death.

…

The death of their parents made neither boy want to remain in the house, as it was not the same without Cadman and Patience present.

Not only did the atmosphere lack the love of their parents, but the house's structure was starting to break down as well.

They needed a new house to live in.

…

Before they set off on their search for a new home, Caleb went into the chicken coop and said goodbye to all the birds that came into contact with him while Philip went into the stables.

Approaching his favorite brown stallion, the two proceeded to have a heart-to-heart as Philip reached up and gently ran his hand through the horse's mane while the horse pushed his nose into his palm.

A hug was soon given by Philip as he wrapped one arm around the horse's neck.

…

While the two brothers were walking hand in hand through the woods, they came across a brown wooden cottage at the end of the woods.

The wood was slightly worn, and shutters were dangling from their hinges on the two front windows, as observed by both of them.

As Caleb contemplated whether or not he and Philip should enter the house, an enthusiastic Philip ran toward the cottage.

Surprised by the sudden action, Caleb followed after, catching up with his brother as they entered the house.

Based on its current weathered condition, the wooden house seemed to belong to no one.

Well, no one except for the Wittebanes now.

…

At night, Philip had trouble falling asleep in his shared room as he heard Caleb's muffled cries, the blonde quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Caleb's current state left Philip feeling sad and sympathetic, prompting him to turn his gaze to the ceiling, fold his hands, and silently pray for God to bring his brother joy again.

Subsequently, he thanks God for taking care of the souls of his parents while they are in heaven.

…

Caleb awakens Philip the next day with a smile and eagerly urges him to get out of bed.

He wants to mark his height on their wall.

4. 6 feet - eight-years-old

Philip's growth excites both him and his brother as they cheer.

Caleb lifts Philip up and spins him around with joy, while the brunette giggles in delight as the music and montage come to a satisfying end.

...

"It looks like you're getting taller and taller every day, Pip," Caleb remarked with a sunny smile as he finished cooking breakfast for his brother on the black cast iron skillet.

He used the remaining flour, eggs, milk, and sugar to make it.

"Mm-hm!" Philip happily hummed in agreement with Caleb while seated at the dining room table with a wooden plate in front of him.

"Someday, I may even grow taller than you, Caleb," the brunette claimed with a great deal of confidence as he casted a playful grin, and his eyes immediately lit up at the the pancake being slipped onto his plate.

The cake was lumpy, as Caleb's always were, but Philip still enjoyed them nonetheless.

The blonde began to chuckle as he walked over to the water bucket and placed the used skillet inside it.

Returning to the table with a small glass bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet, Caleb poured the remaining amount onto Philip's pancakes.

Upon seeing the sweet, golden syrup flowing down on his food, the youngest's lips started curling up.

However, he noticed two empty chairs at the table, which were the seats his parents could have been sitting in alongside him if they were still alive.

His head began to swell with memories of them making the mornings more lively as he sighed, gazing down at his lap.

Caleb quickly noticed his fading smile and stopped pouring.

Philip soon felt a comforting hand gently make contact with his shoulder and slowly looked up to see his brother shining a small, reassuring smile at him.

Philip attempted to generate a smile of his own to reciprocate but was unable to do so.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked, setting the syrup bottle down and taking a seat next to Philip.

Philip was quiet.

"Is it about... them?"

Caleb was aware that the loss of both of their parents was a sensitive topic.

Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, and also...," he softly said before pausing, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's school," he admitted with a soft sniffle before continuing. "It's not the same without you, Caleb. Without you there, the other children don't seem to be fond of or interested in being around me."

The news he heard made the elder feel terrible as he looked at Philip's sad face.

Caleb's role as the household's breadwinner forced him to stop attending school and start working various jobs around town.

Working excessively made him feel fatigued, but it was for the benefit of Philip.

Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother.

"I see...," the blonde said solemnly as he sighed but then managed to smile again.

"Hey, Philip," he began, wiping away his brother's fallen tears with his thumb.

"When you get back from school, let's play some of our favorite games together. I might even make you a surprise when I get back from working."

"Really?!" Philip gasped loudly as he sniffled, his smile reappearing on his face. "You promise?"

"I do," Caleb pledged, keeping his tone soft, as he and Philip proceeded to link their pinkies together.

...

"Are you all packed and ready for school, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip while standing at the front door with him.

Philip responded to the question with an energetic head nod while wearing his brown neck satchel.

He patted the bag twice with his left hand to indicate that everything he needed was inside it.

Caleb then quirked a brow and smirked with playful suspicion as he continued.

"You didn't include any dead birds or live snakes in your satchel, did you?"

Philip gave a simple smile before shaking his head.

"Philip..."

"I didn't!"

Behind his back, the brunette concealed his crossed fingers.

"I promise!"

Caleb smiled at his trustworthy little brother before opening the door, not feeling the need to check his satchel. "Good!"

He proceeded to embrace Philip tightly with love.

"Have a good day at school then," he whispered. "We'll see each other later."

The brunette hugged his brother back. "Okay, Caleb."

He hoped their hug would last forever, but as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once it did, Philip began his journey to school and turned to wave at Caleb.

"Bye, Caleb!"

Upon returning the wave, Caleb smiled. "Bye, Pip!"

Following Philip's departure, Caleb closed the door and headed for the stairs, needing to prepare for the busy day he knew he was going to have.

Knock, knock!

"Oh?"

Caleb proceeded to return to the door and opened it once again, believing that Philip must have forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.

On the opposite side, an older, familiar figure stood, gently holding a hen against his body.

He exhibited a lengthy white beard, tattered brown overalls, no shoes, and a brown hat that covered his bald head.

"Good morning!" Mr. Kookman chirped in a crackly and friendly tone, raising a hand up to greet Caleb while still maintaining a firm hold on his wife, Henrietta.

Yes, his wife.

She was a wonderful hen.

Mr. Kookman was the local kook and a neighbor to Caleb and Philip.

He resided inside the woods.

The man would frequently visit their doorstep to request essentials, such as...

"Could I borrow some spare breeches?" he politely asked as Henrietta clucked.

"Henrietta said good morning as well," Mr. Kookman informed Caleb with a chuckle.

"... Uh..." The blonde shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head, shining a nervous smile.

He aspired to be polite, but at the same time, he was unsure about what to say.

...

Jesus Christ and one of his disciples, a name who went by the title 'The Witch Hunter Emperor', were casually ambling through a market.

The Emperor wore a large cape with white, brown, and gold trim under his Puritan attire, representing strength, righteousness, and purity.

As the two observed the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, the ground began to make slight movements, which soon became violent.

Citizens and sellers began to flee as panicked screams filled the air.

The shaking suddenly stopped, resulting in the appearance of a massive green serpent with small demon wings emerging from the ground.

The snake's menacing gaze is directed at Jesus and the Emperor, and it suddenly lunges at them.

...

"... And after they defeated the serpent with the power of prayer, Gravesfield is saved thanks to Jesus and his disciple, The Witch Hunter Emperor!"

Philip's smile beamed with sinless pride as he stood before his entire class, displaying his childlike journal illustration of Jesus and The Witch Hunter Emperor being tossed in the air by the cheering citizens for defeating the serpent.

"..."

The brunette was expecting a more boisterous reaction from his classmates rather than blank stares.

"Philip, can you explain what any of that has to do with the Ten Commandments?" his teacher asked with a tired sigh while sitting at her desk.

"Uh..." As Philip's smile slowly faded, his cheeks and ears blushed pink, and he turned away from the teacher's gaze and looked at the floor.

His tired teacher signed once more. "Go take your seat."

Philip quickly looked up. "But--,"

His teacher's sharp, sour expression instructed him to refrain from speaking back and immediately take his seat, which he did.

Despite some of his peers still choosing to look at him, Philip attempted to pay attention as another student was called up to the front.

...

After the teacher rang her handheld bell, the class was dismissed as students started to leave and go to the door.

As Madison was beginning to walk out of the school door...

"Hello, Madison!" A cheerful Philip did not hesitate to greet his crush as he popped his head up from the bush that grew on the left side of the school entrance.

He was intentionally waiting for her to come out after him so that he could ask her a question.

"Eee!" Madison's surprise was palpable as she quickly turned her attention to the bush on her left.

The redhead with her hair in a bun bonnet saw Philip.

"Philip?" she asked as she blinked a few times, wondering what the brunette was doing in the bush.

Philip nodded. "May I smell your hair?" he requested kindly with a smile.

His brother instilled in him the importance of using good manners.

"Uh... sure?" Madison told him tentatively as she leaned the side of her face forward, allowing Philip to get a whiff of her hair, despite his question to do so being odd.

Once he did, his face instantly lit up. "Madison, your hair! It smells so pretty!"

"Oh!" The compliment caused a bit of blush to appear on her cheeks as she smiled. "Thank you, Phil--"

"Did you take a bath?" Philip gave a smile as he thought his question was a flattering remark.

However, Madison didn't take it that way.

She let out an offended gasp, giving Philip a glare as she started to walk away, clearly upset by his choice of words.

"W-Wait!" Philip stammered as he stretched out his hand, not wanting Madison to go.

The redhead came to a stop on her leather shoes and turned around.

"What?" she growled with flushed cheeks, attempting to suppress her tears.

Philip opened his satchel and reached inside, grabbing the dead bird and living snake that were inside.

"L-Look! I have presents for you!" he shyly squeaked out as he smiled a nervous smile.

Madison's eyes widened at the two animals in his hands as she admitted a terrified shriek and quickly took off.

"You're weird!" she shouted while running.

Hearing those words echo in his head, Philip felt his heart split in two.

"Oh...," he softly said as he felt his shoulders and head drop, slowly letting go of the bird and snake.

...

Caleb walked along the path in the woods that would lead him to town.

'Alright then, Caleb,' he began to tell himself in his mind, his tone commanding and determined. 'Your first duty when you arrive in town is to help Mr. Town Minister.'

Caleb acknowledges what he mentally instructed himself to do with a nod.

Caleb's arrival in town triggers a montage of him working at his various jobs.

...

With buckets of soapy water and soaked sponges, Caleb and Mr. Town Minister started to remove the vandalism that was written all over the meeting house by an unknown witch.

The minister scrunched his brows and grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed away the impertinent insults that were written about him.

Meanwhile, Caleb had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing at the sentence that said, 'Mr. Town Minister is a doo-doo head'.

It could have all been inside Caleb's head, but he swore he could hear someone cackling a witch-like cackle in the distance, but he couldn't see them.

...

After the vandalism was removed, Mr. Town Minister thanked Caleb and presented him with his payment, which consisted of a basket containing a small pouch of coins.

...

An image of Caleb's basket slides down the scene, transitioning it to the town bakery.

Inside, Mrs. Doughberry hands Caleb a brown sack filled with expired baked goods and orders him to take them behind her shop to bury them.

Once that task is completed, his payment, a small slice of mildly sweet vanilla cake, is added to his basket as the scene transitions to Mr. Bartlett's horse barn.

Opening the stable doors while holding a pitchfork and bucket, Caleb's nose is immediately hit with the foul stench of horse manure.

He scrunches up his nose and grimaces, staying close to the wide, barn doors.

Although he didn't want to go inside, he knew he had to in order to continue sustaining his brother and himself, so he slowly entered and closed the doors behind him.

After the stables were free of manure and smelled a lot better, Mr. Bartlett dropped a small pouch stuffed with coins into Caleb's basket.

...

Caleb is seen resting his back against a tall tree in the center of the woods, using a scrub to gently brush the feathers of a calm Henrietta as she sat on his lap as if sitting on an egg.

Each brush stroke results in her releasing a soft cluck as she settles more into Caleb.

After the final scrub, Caleb walks over to Mr. Kookman and hands his wife over to him.

He beams and spins her with joy, taking note of her well-brushed feathers.

Tucking Henrietta under his arm, Mr. Kookman begins to take Caleb's payment out of his pocket.

Pulling out his basket from behind his back, the blonde receives a half-bitten woolen sock as his neighbor gives him a genuine smile.

Caleb smiles awkwardly at him, choosing to remain polite while thanking Mr. Kookman as the montage ends.

...

"Oh, Philip!"

Caleb was cheerful and upbeat as he opened the cottage door and stepped inside, holding his basket filled with earnings from a day of hard work as he closed the door.

Silence persisted in the air as the elder didn't receive a response.

'Hmm, perhaps he hasn't arrived home yet?' Caleb pondered to himself as he headed toward the dining area.

As the blonde arrived in the room, he suddenly gasped as he froze at the entrance, staring at the dejected sight.

The air was still with silence and sorrow.

"Philip?" A concerned Caleb called out quietly to his brother as he hurried over to the table, taking a seat beside him.

He placed his basket down before placing a comforting hand on his back, rubbing the area with great gentleness.

"What's wrong?"

No answer.

"Did something happen at school?"

No reply from the brunette.

After another brief pause, Caleb chose to ask another question, this one more well-considered.

"Would you like to have a discussion about it once you're ready to talk?"

Philip didn't respond right away, but when he did, he replied with a small sigh and nodded his head, which was down on the table.

"Very well then, Pip," Caleb whispered, managing to shine a small smile down on his brother.

"Take your time. There's no rush. Do you recall the surprise I promised to make for you when I came home?"

"Yes?" A silent Philip finally spoke, his tone soft and tearful.

"Well, how about you watch me work on it. As it's being crafted, you can make guesses on what it is. How does that sound?"

As Philip slowly looked up at his brother, his lips perked into a soft, bittersweet smile.

"That sounds like fun," he said, still thinking a bit about what happened between him and his crush.

...

With a bright smile and hands placed politely on his knees while sitting criss-crossed, Philip keenly watched his brother begin to add an eye hole to the wooden surprise he was carving for him.

"Oh, oh! I already know what you're making me, Caleb!" Philip excitedly exclaimed with a small bounce as he directed his finger at the progressing work.

"You're making me a mask!"

Caleb chuckled as he confirmed Philip's answer with a nod while seated on the sitting room stump, carefully sinking his knife into the second eye hole he was creating.

"That's right, Pip, I am," Caleb said, carving holes in the top part of the mask. "And I'm almost finished, too!"

"You are? Hooray!" Philip cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

The elder gestured for the younger to hand him the two antler-shaped branches that were lying nearby on the floor, and once he did so with a giggle, Caleb attached them inside the holes like horns.

"Ooo, they look like mandibles!" Philip beamed out with a wide smile.

Caleb gave a chuckle. "Mandi-what, Pip?" he asked, puzzled by the new word.

"They're the mouthpart of an insect," Philip explained. "Beetles have them!"

Beetles were his favorite insects.

"Ooooh!" Caleb went in realization. "Hmm... I thought they looked more like deer antlers."

After a short-lived thought, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they can be both."

...

After affixing a string onto the mask, Caleb was finally done.

He smiled fondly at his creation, then at Philip.

"Look, Pip, I've finished your mask!" Caleb said, showing it to Philip. "Come try it on!"

Philip gasped.

"Oh, boy!" Springing toward Caleb, Philip took his new mask and placed it on his face.

"How is it?" Caleb inquired while watching blue eyes blink inside the rounded eye holes.

"It's..."

A shaky smile started to spread on Caleb's face as he watched Philip slowly direct his gaze to the ground in an almost eerie manner.

He didn't even notice his eye holes growing hollow.

Caleb silently prayed that his brother liked the mask.

"... Awesome!" Philip looked up to Caleb with a big smile, his eyes visible once more, which made the blonde breathe out a sigh of relief and wipe his brow.

"How do I look?"

"So cool!" Caleb complimented as he continued. "If a witch came across you, they would certainly perceive you as one of them."

Knowing that got Philip pumped, imagining himself as a great Witch Hunter General who managed to trick every witch he met wearing his mask before leading them to their deaths.

"Yay!" Philip beamed before speedily wrapping Caleb in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, Caleb! Now we can play..."

"Witch Hunters!"

Both boys beam at the same time as they enthusiastically emerge behind a shiny pastel background filled with shimmering skulls and severed witch heads, with the words "Witch Hunters!" above them in rainbow glitter letters.

With Philip's wooden sword raised triumphantly in the air and Caleb, wearing his witch hat and cape during this moment, now raising his clenched fist, the scene transitions to the woods.

...

"Get back here, you speedy little witch hunter!"

"You'll never catch me, you fowl witch!"

Caleb, the wildest and most cunning witch in Gravesfield, was quite fast, but not as fast as Philip, the greatest and most feared witch hunter who ever lived.

A small, stealthy smile crept across Caleb's lips as he continued his mission to catch Philip, sharp brown eyes trying to pick out any sign of the hunter.

Caleb became more vigilant with every rustle of the leaves and trees, every crunch and snap of the twigs he stepped on, and every shadow that seemed to move independently.

Upon hearing a rustle behind a nearby bush, Caleb sprinted and was prepared to jump on it.

While running, he heard Philip taunt him from a distance and stopped, keenly listening.

"I'm not there, you silly witch. If you want to see me, you must go further," Philip advised, his daring voice echoing through the woods.

Caleb let out a giggle as he walked toward where he heard the echo.

This was by far his and Philip's most fun game of Witch Hunters yet.

"There you are, witch hunter!" Caleb approached Philip, who he saw standing on a small, rocky hill.

"So, this is where you chose to hide from me," he cackled, not paying much attention to the brown rope end that Philip was holding.

Philip shook his fist. "I wouldn't come closer if I were you, witch!" he warned, which only made Caleb cackle once more as he took another step.

"Oh, yeah?" the blonde hummed in a playful tone, holding up both of his hands as he was ready to cast a witchy spell.

Ominously wiggling his fingers, he asked, "And why's that?"

Caleb was standing precisely in the spot where Philip desired him to be.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that he had fallen into his trap with such ease.

Pulling tightly onto the rope end, the noose that was spread on the ground entraps Caleb as he loses balance and falls.

"That's why, witch!" Hopping down from the hill, Philip pulls out his wooden sword and raises it up over Caleb.

"Now DIE!" Philip roars, his eye holes hollow as he repeatedly plunges his weapon into Caleb's stomach.

The elder smiles broadly and closes his eyes, hanging his tongue out.

The "witch" was now "dead".

Placing his foot on the now "deceased demon", Philip takes on a heroic stance and wholeheartedly states, "Gravesfield is once again safe thanks to Witch Hunter General Philip!"

"Alright, Witch Hunter General," Caleb began as he broke character and opened his eyes.

"Time for us to play a different game," he chuckled with a smile.

...

A trio consisting of a woman in a coif and two men, one with dark hair and one with blonde hair, strolled smoothly through the town market.

As they began passing by a large wooden crate that was situated between two empty vendor booths...

PBBBT!!!

The horrendous sound immediately caused the three to stop, and they awkwardly shifted glances at one another, wondering who broke wind.

The woman, offended by the fact that the two gentlemen who were accompanying her would even assume that she would do such a sinful thing in public, begins to glare daggers at the two.

Tap, tap, tap, went her foot as she awaited for one or both of them to confess and repent.

When they didn't, the men both received sharp slaps to the faces from the woman as she huffed and walked away.

PBBBT!!!

Both men stared awkwardly at one another as they slowly backed away from each other.

Behind the crate, the faintest of giggles could be heard.

"I can't believe you convinced me to play such a game, Pip," whispered a giggly Caleb, who had just witnessed his brother blow the loudest raspberry. "It's so silly. If we get caught, we'll get into so much trouble."

"We won't," a giggly Philip whispered in a hushed tone as he pointed a finger at upcoming people. "Oh look, more people are coming, Caleb!"

Both boys began to form playful smiles.

A montage begins as various people pass by the crate that Philip and Caleb are hiding behind.

They hear a sharp and sudden raspberry, which they mistakenly believe is flatulence.

Their reactions, which were either confusion, shock, disgust, or embarrassment, cause the boys to chuckle quietly every time.

Caleb's chuckle attack is a result of Philip imitating a few of their reaction faces.

The boys continued to blow raspberries and softly laugh until the sky turned purple-black and was filled with stars, leading to the end of the montage.

...

"The sky sure is pretty, isn't it, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip.

The blonde found himself getting lost in the beauty of the night sky as he gazed upward, him and his brother still seated behind the large wooden crate.

"Mm-hm," Philip hummed listlessly in agreement, sitting with his knees drawn up as he gazed downward at the dirt, dragging his pointer finger across it.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked brightly across the night sky.

Upon recalling his mother's words about shooting stars, Caleb gave a small gasp.

"Pip, look, look!" The blonde beamed, pointing a finger at the sky while gently tugging on his brother's yoke.

"Did you see that shooting star? It flew by so fast! We have to make a..."

As his brother sighed, Caleb gazed down at him, and all the enthusiasm in his voice slowly disappeared.

"... wish," he whispered, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong, Pip?"

Philip sighed once more. "Do you remember when you asked me if something happened at school while we were at the table?"

Caleb nodded. "I do." The elder wrapped his arm around Philip's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Well," Philip softly continued, resting his head on Caleb's shoulder. "There's this girl that I really..."

Philip paused, not ready to reveal his feelings for Madison to Caleb.

"She... I tried to give her gifts, but she ran away and said that... I was weird."

"I see," Caleb said, softly rubbing his brother's back. "And what were the gifts you attempted to give her?"

"A dead bird and a snake," Philip revealed calmly. "They were really nice."

"O-Oh..." Caleb tried to conceal his shock by curling his lips into a small, caring smile.

"Well, you really like to write, Pip. Maybe you can write her an apology letter. I'll even try to help you with it. In addition to the letter, you can also give her gifts that are more... suitable for girls."

"Like what?" Philip asked innocently, looking up at his brother.

"Like... flowers!" Caleb answered. "Girls really like flowers. It's possible that if you gave this girl some flowers, she would really start to like you."

"Really?" The brunette started to perk up, knowing that they had flour at home.

Caleb nodded.

"Well, she did seem to really like it when I told her that her hair smelled pretty," Philip said, reminiscing on the moment as slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"I then asked her if she took a bath, but that's only because there's no way your hair could smell that good if you hadn't bathed, right Caleb?"

Before Caleb could react and respond to his brother's statement and question, both boys fell silent to the sound of upcoming footsteps.

Slowly poking their heads up, they both proceeded to see the shadow of a cloaked figure about Caleb's height, but slightly shorter, dawdling down the walkway.

The figure appeared feminine and had fluffy hair under their hood.

"Who is that?" Philip whispered, in which Caleb shrugged in response.

When the cloaked figure abruptly stopped between the crate and a booth on the right, they turned their head to the left, and Caleb and Philip quickly sunk down.

The mysterious figure's footsteps approached, causing both boys to feel their hearts race.

As the figure slowly attempts to peer behind the crate to determine who is present...

"THERE YOU ARE, WITCH!"

The figure, alarmed by the shouting, raises their head to see Mr. Town Minister running toward them.

Without delay, they start taking off immediately.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" the minister shouted once more as the cat and mouse chase between him and the figure continued.

A loud, witchy cackle was heard by the figure due to their speed advantage over the minister.

'There's that same laugh from earlier today...' thought Caleb as he and Philip snuck off in the direction that led them out of town.

...

"... Did you see the way the minister was chasing that witch?"

As Philip asked his question, his blue eyes were big and bright with admiration while Caleb nodded with a smile and a yawn as both boys entered their home.

After the front door was closed, Caleb continued to follow Philip.

"He's so brave!" the brunette beamed with cheer as he and his brother were nearing the dining room.

"I hope that when I become a Witch Hunter General, I'll be just as good at hunting witches as he is."

"Yeah, me too!" Caleb said, his smile still present as he yawned out a second yawn.

As soon as they entered the dining area, both boys gasped and widened their eyes at the unwelcome guest in the room.

"Hey!" Philip's shout seems to attract the attention of the white-tailed deer near the table.

It froze for a moment before lifting its head out of Caleb's basket, fixing its gaze on the two children.

The boys and the deer's stares were short-lived as the woodland animal used its teeth to grab hold of the basket handle before making a beeline for the sitting room, which caused Philip and Caleb to gasp and quickly give chase after it.

Chaos and commotion dominated the atmosphere as rambunctious footsteps rang out from the running.

...

The Wittebane household was now in tune with the quietness of the night as faint and gentle snores could be heard in the sitting room.

Philip, Caleb, and the deer were sleeping in a cluster on the rug in the room, under a large blanket that was draped over them.

Meanwhile, the basket was atop the sitting room's stump.

[nullicaput]

devil and eve. IV

Pairing: Tom Marvolo Riddle x Reader, Voldemort x Reader

Tags: Fantasy AU, Nobility AU, Christian Themes, Supernatural and Paranormal Themes, Fairytale References, Horror, Sexism, Unnamed Minor Original Characters, Dark, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Slow Development, No Smut

Summary: When your father suddenly fell ill after attending a banquet, you fell into despair. Desperate to cure him, you signed a contract with a particular wizard.

Word Count: 3606

Previous chapter.

The once shared bed of the earl and countess of the North was now reduced to a coffin-like area, where she, who was neither alive or death, was laid down. The countess, who for a still unknown reason has managed to be married with the earl—he who outwardly expressed his affections to the only daughter of the duke—was there, decorated with freshly picked flowers. Her husband was seated on a cushioned chair beside the bed, lower face covered with a thick cloth to mask the rancid odor seeping through the dress of his lady-wife.

"How long will she be like this?" he asked the physician. 

"Not long, my lord." He shook his head in regret and nervousness. "I am afraid that the lady's condition can never be treated anymore." 

"Are you saying that she is to die?"

"Yes, my lord." 

Dismissing the physician with an unconcerned wave, the earl glanced at her for one last time before standing up, his lips stretching into a sinister smile. He mulled over what reward to give the reason his wife—on paper—is withering away like the hibiscus flowers she adored. After all, the news may be one of demise for others, but to him—oh, Lord in heaven, how blessed he must have been to finally have this freedom.

"Would that man desire gems?" he thought out loud. "I have never bothered to ask him." 

Holding his wife's hand for the first time in years—after they have consummated their wedding for the first and last time—he caressed the two, protruding, dot-like scars on it. These were the symbol of his approaching success, and he could not help but feel elated.

"I can grant him anything a commoner like him could want." He laughed softly, his ego being inflated by itself. "Education, a title, a wife." 

He pressed onto her wrist using his thumb, feeling the rubber-like flesh dipping with the force he was inflicting. 

"Hm, his surname," the earl muttered. "It sounded like a noble's. Could he be an illegitimate child? But that surname had been gone for hundreds of years."

He finally let her wrist fall and took his handkerchief out to wipe his hand. 

"No matter. Such things are irrelevant to a man of my standing." 

Shortly after the physician left, the butler arrived, holding a metal tray with an unopened letter and a paper knife on top. 

Confused by the gesture, he eyed the servant nastily. 

"The duke's daughter." 

He looked at the envelope and at the wax seal that fastened it shut, and the pleasantness the earl has felt doubled. 

"Good," he commented. "Only I have the right to see its contents."

He spared the woman one last glance before getting out of their chambers. The butler obediently followed, never even daring to stare at the letter.

Dressed in a black, lace dress and head entirely covered with a black veil, you made your way to the carriage—this one was far more extravagant and higher than the one you use for church purposes. You climbed the step with the help of the couchman, your handmaiden tailing behind you with a tray of two pairs of freshly dried gloves for you to change with after touching his palm.

However, before your hand maiden has followed you inside, the wizard appeared at in front of the door of the carriage. Clad in a set of clothing you were sure is not worn by those of a less fortunate background and definitely not of this time—the stitching of the clothing looked like it was from a different era—he held a basket of mint.

"Where are you going?"

You eyed him and the basket and replied, "Affairs that do not involve you."

After the weeks that he has been here, you concluded that your servants have learned to appreciate his presence. Perhaps it was all due to his—an outsider—existence providing the manor a feeling of change. However, despite that trust from your own servants, you still could not bring to do the same—outside of trusting him with your father, at least. 

"Why is commoner like you inquiring such things to a lady?" a weathered voice said, angry. 

There she was, the head maid of this estate.

Despite your servants' clear preference to the wizard, who is under the disguise of being a simple healer—unorthodox but still effective—to lower-ranking ones, the head maid never failed to express her disgust of him. She thinks that he is a con artist; after all, how come he, a wizard, has not been executed yet? Ridiculous. That idea is ridiculous.

"I deeply apologize for my sin," he said, guilt covering his face as he slightly lowered his face. "Commoners are not exactly taught h—" 

"Your knowledge in etiquette may be scarce, but for the love of God—you have been here for only a month," she seethed, interrupting him.

"That is enough," you said sternly.

Embarrassed to be scolded by her master, she cleared her throat.

The tall, old woman—not taller than him, of course—glared at him, ushering your handmaiden, who was one move away from physically swooning at the presence of the wizard, inside the carriage. She scoffed at the sight of him with his cloak on, finding his choice in clothing absurdly "commoner", or whatever that meant. 

Sir Riddle raised an eyebrow at the gesture, and soon, he bowed again. 

The moment the carriage left, the old woman said, "I am watching you, boy."

Oh, the sentiment was mutual.

"You are here, lady [Name]," he greeeted you while you stayed inside the carriage. 

He offered his hand, but you made no move to take it. Instead, you waited for your coachman. 

"Yes, I have told you in my letter that I will be coming to visit her." You took the servants hand and let your maid change your gloves for the second time—not before the earl turned his eyes away from the sight of your naked arms. "Unless you have not bothered to open and read it." 

"Yes—yes, of course. Of course not, I have read the letter." He could not possibly confess that he spent the night smelling the perfume of your stationery in a desperate attempt to take a whiff of your skin, could he? "I might have forgotten."

As he guided you to the chambers where his wife lied, he tried to close the distance between the two of you. Your maid, despite not being allowed to walk beside you, her master, she put herself in the middle. 

Defeated, he told you, "If something happens—if she has told you something, tell me." 

"You are not to tell me what to do, your grace," you reminded him.

"I apologize." 

When the three of you reached the chamber, he gave you a large piece of white cloth to tie around the lower portion of your face as mask, but you did not accept it. Your maid, quick and reliable, used a clean, black cloth. 

"You are to stay outside no matter what happens," you ordered your maid. "Am I understood?"

The earl understood that he were to remain at the halls, too. 

He opened the door for you and you can feel his eyes on you. Without a word, he closed it behind you. With a click of the locks, your feet brought you to the countess, and you were reminded of how your father looked before sir Riddle came to you. The only difference was her situation looked far more severe. You looked at the sky through the transparent panes. The hues outside were dark, as though it poses as windows to how you were feeling inside.  

You glanced at her wrist or a moment and noticed two, small, identical scars. You paid no mind to it and tilted your head to scrutinize her face instead. Soon, you saw her lips moved. At first, you thought it was a trick made by your eyes, but it really was not. You leaned down to listen to her, her voice barely an audible whisper. As you listened to her, you kept yourself from gagging due to the putrid smell of her breath. She only said a single word—or what it sounded like—and repeated it. Syllable by syllable, she repeated it.

She said the same thing over and over again for half an hour. With the same beat, with the same tune—listening to it made you feel heavy, as though you were sharing the same predicament as her. 

Then, she stopped.

"Countess?"

Suddenly, her eyes opened uncomfortably, blood-shot and pupils dilated. She screamed an ear-piercing shriek, and her arms flailed. One of her hand has hit your throat, which caused the back of your head to hit the bedside table. In fear, you stumbled and held the area that made contact with the mahogany furniture. It throbbed, but all you think of was the manner of her back arching and her hands reaching for something you cannot see. Her veins bulged and moved like slithering snakes, traveling from her head down to her neck.

"Do not kill me!" she said. "Do not forsake me!"

Her eyes rolled upward, and she tilted her head to bash it against the headboard many times. You gasped and tried to hold her, but the furniture rattled on their own, causing you to halt. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, and you saw the earl's chair sliding back and forth. She floated from the mattress—you never thought such a thing could even happen. You heard a sickening crack—sharp. 

Her back snapped into two.

You scurried to stand up, but you stepped onto the hem of your skirt, making you fall. The door burst open and you saw the earl with your uncle.

"Mister," you gasped, scrambling to get to him. "Uncle!" 

"Child." He hugged you, gently dragging you outside. "What has happened?" 

"I do not—" you stuttered, still horrified to your wits. "I do not know how and why she was flo—" 

She fell down the bed and twitched. The moment she did, she vomited a black, goo-like liquid. Its smell made you gag. Just when you thought you could never be more appalled, you saw white worms squirming—maggots. She has thrown up a maggot-filled, unidentified liquid.

"Do not sell my soul!" she screeched. "Do not leave me!"

When you looked at your bloodstained, gloved hand, you found yourself being held by someone, being forced to sprint away from the scene. A second passed before the cog in our head finally turned. You yanked your hand, your fear turning into anger. 

"You are not allowed to touch a lady, especially an unwed one," you berated the earl, your usual monotony absent.

He took a step to you, and you took two steps back. 

"I will be a widow soon, your grace," he exhaled, his tone too tender for your liking.

"Have you no shame?" you spat.

He gazed down at his hand—the one he used to grab you without your consent—and saw the smear of blood in his white gloves. He might not have realized that you were bleeding because yours were black, but now that he learned that you were indeed injured, his demeanor cracked.

"I will have my physician treat you."

"My lady!"

You turned to the rapid—hurried—sound of your maid's sole. As soon as she has reached you, she put her body in front of yours to block it from the earl. 

"As you can clearly see, there is no need." You returned to that usual poise, a silent but clear indication that you cannot be convinced to change your decision. "I shall return to my father's manor."

Days have passed after your visit, and you have decided that you were never ever to step foot inside that estate. You have burned a everything that you worn that day, and the carriage you rode to get there was donated to the church—only after it had been blessed. The memory has burned itself into your brain, never to let you sleep properly even when you tried your hardest to forget it. 

"My father has been improving," you told the wizard as you busied yourself with inserting the threaded needle from one hole to another. "His skin appears to have color, like blood is indeed flowing through his veins and arteries."

You were in his cabin once again, finding a strange sense of solace in this dimly lit place—you would never admit that to anyone, most especially to him—which was something you have never received from any other area in your father's territory. Under the glass ceiling, you did your thing as he brewed something in his cauldron. 

"Obviously, he would be improving under my care," he huffed, a self-satisfied expression creeping in. 

He momentarily left his cauldron and searched for something in his large glass jars. He picked—or rather, floated—one of the jars and opened it. You heard a 'pop' sound when he did, and the faint, minty fragrance of the contents filled the area you were both in. As though he pulled it out of thin air, two golden goblets appeared, also floating. He poured each cup the contents of the jar, and he handed one to you—he did not use magic when he did.

"Have some mead." 

"Mead?" you said. "I do not drink alcohol aside from wine." 

With your answer, the light in his eyes vanished. It appeared that your reply struck a chord. What chord? That, you did not know. 

Although he is technically a resident of your father's estate and also the one who had been treating your father's condition, that heaviness in your gut tells you not to accept and take a sip from that goblet. You were ignorant of the specificity of the feeling, but you choose to trust yourself more than anything else. You are a desperate daughter, not a foolish one. 

"A shame." 

You watched him touch your supposed goblet and turn it into a small twig. The liquid that was previously held by it returned to the jar. He went back to his working station and stirred the cauldron with the ladle, the steam not affecting him.

"Where have you went?" he inquired, pertaining about that day. 

"I cannot say." 

"Confidential?" he said as he dipped a cube of ingredient you did not know the name of up until now.

"Yes, why do you want to know?" 

"Curiosity." He cut another ingredient with his knife. "As a healer, I am only curious as to why you went home bleeding and just barely conscious when you left this manor...fine."

Your lips quirked up while you continued with your embroidery. You waited for him to use the favor he granted you—he mended your cut—against you, yet he did not. 

"I would never tell anyone." He sent you a smile, mimicking the softness yours had but never really imitating it wholly. "My lips are sealed." 

Seeing you unconvinced, he added, "Besides, who would ever believe a commoner man over a noble lady?" 

Many would. He knows that many would. 

"Is this how you coax other nobles?" 

His eye twitched, possibly offended when he parroted, "Coax?"

"Convincing them to spill their deepest, darkest secret to you."

You felt his stare bore into yours as he stirred the cauldron once more, now counterclockwise. 

"What can I say? You will find that I can be very...persuasive."

You made a mistake and put your finger too close to the hole you were planning to make he needle pass through. It resulted to you pricking your finger, a crimson-colored bead of liquid sprinting out. Instinctively, you hissed and let the needle and cloth fall onto the floor. You pinched your fingertip, knowing better than to put it in your mouth to suck the blood out of it.

"I need not your calculated moves and scripted words, Sir Riddle." You bit your lip in frustration as you realized that the blood was not stopping. "I do not even ask for you to let me witness the real you. I simply desire your truthfulness."

He made his way to you and knelt. He picked up the small metal and fabric, and he then took your pierced finger, his rough hand contrasting the softness of yours. You felt a cooling sensation at the part where you previously bled. He healed you, again. 

"I have always been true to my words, Lady [Name]," he murmured it so tenderly that you were sure it could actually convince others. "Especially when those words are for you." 

You nodded, but you showed no signs of believing him.

"Have you been a noble, a lot of ladies would have asked for their fathers to marry them off to you."

You were not saying it out of dislike of other ladies—you do not think yourself as someone different; you said it as a fact.

"Are you not one of those?"

Still, the daughter of the duke was not really similar to any other ladies, was she? You may be, but she never was and would never be. 

"No."

You do not need more connections. By definition, you were the most eligible bachelorette of this kingdom. You were the highest lady, only below the queen and queen dowager, after all. However, even then, you do not find yourself satisfied with your situation. A lot of ladies would have asked for yours in replacement of theirs; you know that too well because it had been hammered down into your skull ever since you have been born. 

Yet, although you may be the most eligible bachelorette, but you were still treated like a week-old produce—old and almost rotting. They do not consider you fresh, as though you meat infested with flies and maggots. No one does. 

Nonetheless, you have not done anything to change your situation.

Because you were a coward.

As you have paired countless ladies to your suitors to remove them from your path, you have realized long ago that you were no different to those who you have hated. You appeared better in the eyes of those ladies, all because you have given them the illusion of choice. They thought the had the freedom they have always wished for because you gave them options of who they can marry. In the end, you still put them into their respective lion's den as you had the audacity to sigh in relief that a man or two have been gotten rid of finally.

"Not surprising to hear that from you, my lady." He gave you the needle and finally averted his eyes to your little project. "You seem skilled with it." 

"I have been taught to do this ever since I turned seven," you recalled. "While men are expected to train with swordsmanship, we are expected to be adept with embroidery." 

"Is that why your knights are only males? I have yet to see a dame."

"Mhm. Sewing is a peasant's activity, and yet, noble ladies embroider. What could be the real difference between the two? They both require needlework."

Amused at your uncharacteristic complaint, he scoffed, making the vials float and removing their corks. 

"Your kind, especially those at the higher place of the hierarchy, is obsessed with beauty."

It was your turn to be entertained by his usage of his words. 

"You seem to know a lot about my kind." 

"Just enough. And one thing I know best about your kind, is that the likes of you are so adamant to pass on a legacy."

"They call it legacy even though the history of their bloodline is far from being honorable."

He chuckled, his laughter sounding like music to your ears. Like the tune of the church's orchestra and choir, it made you feel tranquil. Listening to it made your heartbeat slow down. 

"It seems that you really loathe your humanity." 

"Not humanity itself; just this aspect," you corrected him. "What about your kind?" 

"Wizards and witches do not care for trivial things like age." He poured ladleful of liquid into each vial. "Pregnancy and reproduction can happen even at the age your kind considers old."

"Do your appearance age in the same manner as ours?" 

"Yes, but we have practices to impede it. There are others who can even stop aging altogether." Seeing no signs of intrigue from you, he stopped moving. "You do not seem to be interested in those practices, my lady. Do you not want to escape death?" 

"I wish nothing of the sort, Sir Riddle."

He smiled, but his eyes held dullness that you never thought you could see form those pair.

"Why so?"

"Women are like birds. Some are free, some long for a space to at least spread their wings, and some..." you said, your eyes on him filling the missing words. "Living when you have no freedom is no better than dying."

"You wish not to live that long. Is that correct?"

Wishing for death felt insensitive, knowing that your father and fellow lady would wish for nothing but to live.

"I think I have overstayed," you said, cutting the conversation short. "Forgive me."

Gathering your embroidery kit, you curtsied. 

"You are far more pleasant to deal with when you are not just barely conscious," he said. 

"I am certain that everyone is." 

You smiled wryly; however, your smirk shrunk when a flash of image made itself known to you. 

Revisiting the recent memories, you feel like your soul has been sucked the moment you have picked the word—what that even a word? Was it perhaps a name? It sounded so menacing, like it was death and agony verbalized. 

Your lips moved to imitate the countess', mouthing, "Voldemort."

next chapter.

[saltsicklover]

Part One - STCHT

Here's to a new adventure! Enjoy!!

Title: Someone To Come Home To

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talk of Secrets, Swearing, Jake's mothering being A LOT, talks of death and trauma.

Best Friends to Lovers Romance! Marriage of Convenience!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jake Seresin, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The Dagger Squad is good at keeping secrets- they make their living under Top Secret clearance, their fighter jets being a means to an end, really. They fly with a prayer on their lips, they compete their missions, make miracles, and come home. That's the job. 

They do it, and they do it well, because that is the job. From the moment the step onto that aircraft carrier, it no longer matters what they are leaving behind. They may fight for what's behind them, who is behind them, but none of that matters the second they step into that jet. All that mattered from that moment on was the mission, the job, the next step or twelve they had to take in order to get back home. 

Maybe that's why they have so many secrets. 

They tell people it's so information can't be tortured out of them- if they can keep their personal lives a secret, they can damn sure keep professional information from falling into the wrong hands. They say it's because they are just quiet people, they don't like their personal lives out in the open for anyone to see. Sometimes they even say it's so they can focus on the job. If no one is talking about home, there will be nothing to miss on mission, on deployment, or while they are stationed across the country. 

Those were never the real reasons. Each Dagger had their own. Nobody ever questioned each other until they became a permeant detachment out of San Diego and things that were once kept secret slowly began working their way out. 

The secrets, physical fitness standards, uniform regulations, and bureaucracy were just added bullshit on top of the contracted nine to five job that Jake Seresin accepted when he signed on that dotted line. Again, and again, and again. 

The job was good, really good. It brought him all over the world, seeing things that people didn't even think to wish for. From the deepest blue hues of the ocean and their white crested waves that lap themselves up against the sides of aircraft carriers to the clearest sky that surrounded him each time he flew. No matter where he found himself, the world seemed to stretch so far around him and a feeling of absolute awe filled him. 

He swore up and down that there was nothing like it, the feeling that the ever expansive Earth was just beyond of his fingertips, and he ached to see it all. Seresin crossed his heart, claiming there was nothing more beautiful than watching the world form the seat of his jet- the sun cresting over the horizon, the blue from both the sky and sea being interrupted by a streak of brilliant sunlight. 

He knew the sky was where he belonged from the moment his Father's best friend took him up in his private prop plane. It was just a little two seater Cessna, but Jake sat in the back, fighting the the seatbelt the whole time. He wanted nothing more than to push his face flush up against the glass and take in everything the eye could see. It was that moment, his world broke open, his future crystal clear- he belonged in the sky. 

Getting into the Navy was all that mattered, so, he fought like hell to claim his place, to fly with the best pilots, to be a navel aviator. He started young, first with good grades and model planes before moving onto high school, his plucky neighbor in tow. 

Seresin had first met his neighbor, who he affectionately refers to as Spurs, when his Mother dragged him over to their home with a Bundt cake to welcome them to the neighborhood. The gesture was meant to be friendly, the Texans with kind hearts and hospitality to boot. 

The Jett family was less than impressed with the gesture, but, they took the cake anyway in an attempt to seem nice. It's never the best idea to upset new neighbors on the day you move in, even if the cake that Mrs. Seresin held out to Ms. Jett felt more like an excuse to snoop than it did to actually be kind. The thing the Mrs. Seresin didn't know was that her presence was more of an interruption than a welcome party. That, however, didn't stop the wide eyed girl from pushing around her mother's legs, sticking her hand out towards Jake with gusto and self confidence. 

"Good afternoon!" Mrs. Seresin's cheeks bore too much blush and not enough of a smile as Mrs. Jett opened the door about 45 degrees. She stuck her head out onto the porch, her daughter quickly hiding behind the door, a finger laced through her mother's belt loop. 

"Hi," The greeting is short and Mrs. Seresin pulls her lips into a tight line, still trying to keep the corners ticked up to allude to a smile in response to her new neighbor.  

Mrs. Seresin's blond hair is styled tall and proud, no doubt giving her about four more inches in height, adding to the extra couple she gets from her strappy heals. She wears a beautiful dress, one that wraps her upper body before flowing down into a skirt to hide her tummy and hips. Things that, no doubt wouldn't be considered 'lady-like' to show off. The neckline is modest, but there is enough room to layer a set of dainty pearls around her neck. Her blue eyes sparkle against her thick layer of makeup. 

Her son is clad in jeans that are just a hair too long for him, even with the little bit of height he gets from his cowboy boots. A t-shirt is tucked into this jeans, a belt buckle on proud display. His cheeks are rosy with heat, unclear if the cause is from the weather or the embarrassment his mother is subjecting him to. 

"My name is Patricia Seresin, and this is my son, Jacob," She runs her well manicured fingers through his hair. "We live just across the way and we wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" The cheeriness laced in her voice is fake but well rehearsed; a tone of voice that would sound wonderfully condescending with the right words. Ms. Jett takes note of the tone and the way her new neighbors lacquered nails stand out against her son's hair, the shining red paint against the bright blond of the boy's too long hair. Jacob's hair falls unceremoniously over his forehead, a hat line worn into his bangs, no doubt from the dark brown Stetson he cradles against his chest. 

Patricia holds the cake out towards Ms. Jett expectantly, her eyebrows inching up her forehead as she shakes the plastic wrap covered dessert at her new neighbor. Patricia mutters something about it being a "Bundt" and so, with a sigh,  Ms. Jett pulls open the door a bit further, trying not to notice the way her new neighbor's eyes rake over her form. Her hair is tied back, bandanna tied tightly around her head, almost obscuring her dirty blonde hair. Her white t-shirt is tucked beneath a pair of cutoff overalls, a pair of high tops adorn her feet. 

"I'm Lizzy- Elizabeth Varon Jett" She introduced herself as she took the cake being presented to her. Once she let go of the door, it swung open the rest of the way, her daughter's hand on the knob. Her daughter is still hidden a bit behind her legs. "This is my daughter, Captain," Lizzy introduces her daughter with a little smirk.

"You named your daughter, Captain?" The judgement leaks through Patricia's voice and Lizzy can't help but laugh.

"Heavens, no! But she won't actually respond to anything but Captain, so that's what we go with. My late husband was a Naval Lieutenant, and used to call her Captain because it's a superior rank.  It's silly," She dismisses with a wave of her hand, a light wash of tears flooding her eyes. "Captain, this is Mrs. Patricia, and her son, Jacob," 

"Mrs. Seresin,"

"Jake," 

The neighbors speak at the same time.  Captain's eyes drifted from Mrs. Seresin to the boy standing next to her. He smiles widely at her, a couple of his front teeth missing. She smiles back, showing off a tooth gap of her own. Lizzy laughs at the exchange, Patricia doesn't. 

"Captain starts at the Elementary school just down the road in a couple of weeks," Lizzy says, more to Jake than to his mother, "Fourth grade, a big year! What about you, Jacob?"

"I will be going into fourth grade as well, Ma'am," He informs her, a smile playing on his lips. 

"That's very exciting, maybe you two will be in the same class!" Lizzy nudges her daughter a bit with her hip, a smile on both of their faces. The words go unspoken between mother and daughter, a new friend. 

Captain looks Jake up and down before making a decision. She moved out fully from behind the safety of her mother's legs, a new confidence taking over. She didn't even bother to give her name, real or the nickname she had been using since she was seven, instead opting to ask a question, one that would stick in the back of Jake's mind for the rest of time, "Where are your spurs? I thought everyone here in Texas wore spurs!"

The laugh that escaped his lips sealed the deal for her. Jake would be her best friend. Jake's mother nudged him between the shoulders, apologizing for his inconsiderate attitude. As their mothers continued their conversation, Spurs stuck out her hand again, this time, he took it in his own, grip firm and assured. 

With a few more spoken words between the women, they bid each other a good afternoon, each mother having to pull their own child into the house and off the porch, respectively. Captain knew form that moment on that didn't plan on letting anything get in her way, not the new house, the new school, the new life without her father, nothing. Especially when it came to the green eyed boy who lived across the street, who was in her new fourth grade class. The moment she laid eyes on him life swept them up, tangling them together, whether they like it or not- but little did each other know, they would like it an awful lot. 

---

Over the years, Jake and Spurs came to know lots about each other, probably more than they knew about themselves. Jake's family owned a large ranching business but after his father, Richard, got injured, they moved into town leaving the ranch in their employees capable hands.

Jake learned how Spurs' father, David, died. He was in a helicopter that went down, the ocean swept the wreckage under and no one made it out. They shouldn't have been flying with the storm, but the Navy remains adamant that there was appropriate weather when they took off. Spurs doesn't speak about her father, much to her Mom's dismay. 

Jake loves math even though he would never admit it, and Sunny was fantastic in history. He could spell, she couldn't. She always slipped him her carton of milk in exchange for his grapes. They balanced each other out, the way best friends should. 

Their mothers took photos of them together every year, the first day of school, and the last, posed in front of the large tree outside the Seresin house. They traded birthday gifts and homework. They got caught cheating in the sixth grade as they slipped each other answers for the reading quiz. Neither of them cared for the books they read, so they each read half and swapped answers. It wasn't a fool proof plan, but they didn't find that out until they were sitting outside the principals office, bumping knees and waiting for their furious mothers to get through with the principal. 

The years went by quickly, between school work and first time job, first kisses and parties. Not before long, it was graduation and the pair were happy as could be, posing for photos together. They were clad in cap and gown, hanging off of each other, smiles brighter than the Texas sun. Jake was headed for bootcamp a few weeks later, more than ready to begin his Naval career. 

Spurs was headed north, school in Minnesota calling her name. She didn't really want to go, but she promised her Mother she would give it a try. When she finally made it to the tiny college town, nestled right up against the Mississippi river, she barely lasted through the first winter. Between the homesick feeling that never left her chest and the fact that Jake was due home for Easter before shipping out to his first duty station for Flight School, she was itching to get home. 

She told herself she didn't need the fancy degree anyway- it wasn't what she wanted out of life in the first place. Spurs wanted to travel, to work with her hands, to meet new people and figure out what life was outside of her little corner of it all. She was ready for whatever the world was going to dish her- at least, she thought she was. That was until she walked through the front door of her house, bags in hand, only to find the Seresin's and her mother waiting for her, each wearing a more intense look than the last. Absolutely nothing could have prepared her for the words that left Richard's mouth. 

[thecircularsystem]

you wanted more CDD/multiplicity questions/topics and while this isn't the most directly related thing it has been on my mind lately. system mapping. (I know that can be wildly personal and private so all good if you just ignore this :D). have you ever done it? how? has it helped with anything and how? that sort of stuff, and anything else you'd like to say about it.

I've got to be honest -- I've never understood what "system mapping" really means to most, but I know I've done what I think system mapping is.

I've made a "map" of my innerworld and what it looks like. I couldn't get it exact, of course -- my innerworld is a little bit non-euclidean, so hallways don't really connect.

I've also made various charts of which parts I have, roles, etc. My picrew, to me, is a type of system map, since it shows what we look like and who we are. We also made a shipping chart to help us figure out what relationships folks have!

Neither of these things really helped with much; it was moreso done for fun and for memories. It helps in the fact that I can look back and recall what I've done, what I'm doing, how I've been. I also look back at the picrew collage of all of us when I'm struggling to connect to the others when trying to switch. Helps me decide who would be best to reach out to.

I'll provide the innerworld map below, since it seems I still have it! I'll also include an image description. TW for a mention of torture? Nothing explicit, it just mentions it.

[Image Description: An innerworld system map of the Circular System.

There's a round central room with golden fronting circles. There is a brown box in the right of this room labeled "Kids Pavilion." There is a blue box toward the bottom of the room labeled "Debra's Garden (Higher up)." Beside this in blue text, it states "Window shows off the city at night (inaccessible). At the top of this circular room, it states "(Above this entire room) Ve's Cloud Layer."

To the bottom left of the room is a dotted line, leading to a second room titled "Rice's Bedroom." A disclaimer informs readers it is ship themed. There is a label next to the room that states, "Window that shows ocean view."

Two branching hallways lead off of the main circular room which both end in a gray blob. Between these hallways is a disclaimer which states, "These hallways eventually loop back round to each other but there's a lot of rooms between them (pictured above). Above this drawing are five boxes labeled and described. The text inside the boxes is below.

Box One: "Bedrooms! There's an infinite number of them, though not all parts use their rooms. Numb/Curtis, Deb/Sierra/Wade, and Emory have personalized rooms."

Box Two: "The Study. Filled with books, two stories tall, with containers of memories on the shelves. Built with our therapist so that Numb had a room he could feel was his own space."

Box Three: "The Gym. Roy and Avery work out here. They bond over both struggling with having super powers. Roy regularly wrecks the place. We're working on that lol."

Box Four: "The Forest. Octavian brought this with him alongside his pseudomemories. Recently, a cabin appeared here for Wisteria to use when she needs a break! That's really her spot now."

Box Five: "White Room (Discontinued). This has been boarded up for years now. Used to be a trauma-based room for parts to torture themselves (particularly Wade and Curtis)."

End Image Description]

[yanderecrazysie]

J.S Anon here again, you can probably tell what kind of Reader I want for this one. Anyways would I be able to request an NSFW one? Maybe Despair and Hope hating reader silently giving Chihiro a blowjob underneath the table and being walked in on if that's alright!

HI AGAIN! I had a lot of trouble working the Junko’s sister and hope/despair hate into this, but I think I got it! Also, he’s a little OOC so take that as you will.

As always, all characters are 18+.

Title: Take This Longing

Pairings: Chihiro Fujisaki x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, NON-CON ORAL (m. receiving)

“Oh take this longing from my tongue

Whatever useless things these hands have done

Let me see your beauty broken down

Like you would do

For one you love”

From “Take This Longing” by Leonard Cohen

You blankly watched the number on the elevator’s display screen change as each floor passed you by. The numbers blinked with the same red as the light on your ankle monitor. 

Not everyone could forgive an Enoshima, after all.

The elevator stopped near the top floor of the highrise and the doors opened, revealing an office bathed in the soft glow of a hundred monitors, lining the walls and desks. There were bookshelves haphazardly placed against the windows that made up the back wall, all half-way filled with technical manuals.

At the center of a ring of monitors was Chihiro Fujisaki, whose eyes flitted between displays with an intensity that didn’t match his sweet-looking exterior. As a member of the Future Foundation, Chihiro had grown taller over the years and had begun wearing pants instead of skirts (embracing his masculine side).

As he looked up at you, his heart skipped a beat. You, the sister of Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba, yet a person that loathed both despair and hope, always brought a smile to his face.

He stood, smoothing out the front of his lab coat. You were punctual, as always, on the dot of the hour you were summoned. He admired that about you. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“You wanted to see me?” your voice was deadpan as always.

“Yes, thank you for coming,” Chihiro gestured to a chair opposite his desk, “Please, take a seat.”

“I’d rather not,” you said simply, crossing your arms.

Chihiro nodded, swallowing thickly, “Alright, well… I’ve been working on something. A project for hope. Of course, you already knew that…”

You didn’t respond, just stood there blankly staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s an AI, one that can learn and evolve beyond the programming constraints of binary thinking. It’s designed to understand and feel, without falling into the traps that…” he swallowed again, not wanting to bring up the past that had led to you becoming an unwilling member of the Future Foundation, “...well, you know.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?” you sounded wary.

Chihiro’s fingers twitched nervously, “Because, you can help me test it. With your rejection of both hope and despair, we can make sure the AI can run without biases if needed.”

You shrugged, “I’m not allowed to turn down anything you guys ask, but what do you even get out of this?”

Chihiro’s heart hammered in his chest, “I… I admire you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, “Everything about you.”

You gave him a disgusted look, “I’m not interested in any of you hope-filled tree-huggers. Fuck off with that mushy-gushy shit.”

Chihiro’s heart shattered into a million pieces and tears filled his eyes. He felt a surge of anger, “Why can’t you just like hope? It’s such a good thing, how can you hate it?”

You shrugged again and turned away, “If that’s all, then I’ll take my leave.”

Chihiro suddenly had a thought. One that was awful, terrible, and so tempting.

“Suck me off,” he said, voice trembling. He couldn’t believe something so inappropriate had left his mouth. It had only ever done so in daydreams of the two of you together.

Where you were a willing participant.

You clearly couldn’t believe it either, “The hell’d you say?”

“Suck me off,” Chihiro demanded, voice stronger and clearer this time, “You can’t refuse a direct order from one of us, can you?”

“I’m- I’m not a sex toy!” you snapped, blood running to your cheeks. Despite your protest, you reluctantly got on your knees and crawled under his desk. He could hardly believe it when shaking hands unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling his painfully hard cock out of his trousers.

It was bigger than you expected for such a delicate-looking man, and it was threatening-looking, with a pulsating vein down the side and pre beading at the tip. You hesitated for a moment, looking up at Chihiro’s face. He was staring down at you with a mix of desire and embarrassment, biting his lip as he watched you.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, tentatively wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. It was warm and spongy, and very, very salty. You moved your head forward, taking as much of his impressively-sized member into your mouth as possible.

Chihiro let out a high-pitched moan as you started to move your head up and down, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock. He grew harder and heavier in your mouth, his hips starting to thrust forward slightly as he lost himself in the sensation.

He thrust a little too hard and you gagged, pulling off the cock with a whine of pain. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped, carding his hand through your hair, “I’ll be more careful- please keep going!”

You took him back into your mouth, sucking harder and beginning to bob your head up and down. Your hands reached up to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you continued to work his cock.

Chihiro let out a strangled moan as he felt the familiar tightness building in his groin. He couldn’t believe how good it felt. He felt like he’d died and gone to heaven, because having you on your knees for him, sucking his throbbing cock, was better than any fantasy he could have conjured up in that moment..

With one final thrust forward, he exploded into your mouth, cock pulsating as he filled it with his release. You swallowed it down, but the sheer volume of it spilled over onto your lips, leaving you looking more debauched than ever.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened, and Byakuya stepped into the room. “Fujisaki, I need those-” he stopped, absolutely horrified by the sight he was seeing.

Chihiro was sure he looked red-faced, with his spent cock hanging out of his pants and you, under his desk, white cum dripping down your chin.

“Disgusting,” Byakuya shuddered, shaking his head as he walked straight back into the elevator.

You looked borderline tearful until Chihiro placed his hand back in your hair, letting out a contented sigh, “You’re perfect, you know that?”

You stared at him blankly, as though you couldn’t believe what you had done, all emotion driven out of you.

Chihiro couldn’t wait until you did it again for him. 

Maybe next time, he’d make you go all the way.

[yukimomodivorce]

Unecessarily long explanation/analysis of what Re:vale's name might mean

I don't know how to start this ok so basically this post and these tags from @nitunio

inspired me to try to explain my own interpretation and I maybe accidentally spent several days looking into the etymology in the process and now I have more to say about it than I did initially. So I wanna start by outlining every potentially relevant definition/use of re and vale that I found and then I'm gonna talk about how some of them relate to Re:vale. This post has sections and a reference list baby let's go

1: Definitions of re

1. In music terms, re is the second syllabic note in a diatonic scale (do re mi etc.)

2. Re: specifically with a colon at the end is often used as an abbreviation of 'reply' (especially in emails) and/or as the Latin re meaning 'regarding' or 'in reference to'

3. In most cases, re as a prefix/affix indicates 'back' (as in return) or 'again' (as in repetition)

2: Definitions of vale

1. The Middle English vale (pronounced like veil) is another term for valley (derived from the Latin vallis), used in literary/poetic contexts or place names to mean:

A low stretch of land surrounded by hills or mountains, usually with a river flowing through it

The world or mortal life (figuratively and often with connotations of sorrow or hardship, such as in the phrase "vale of tears")

2. In most modern uses, the Latin vale means 'farewell' or 'goodbye', especially in the context of death (apparently this is really common in Australia? I've never heard it before)

3. This use is derived from valeō (or present infinitive valēre), which basically means 'be well/healthy' - so vale in Latin means 'goodbye' in the sense of wishing someone good health, safe travels etc.

Valeō/valēre can also denote strength and worth, and it's the root of both valour and value

4. From what I can find, vale in Spanish is mainly used as a colloquial term similar to 'OK' or 'cool' in English, but it's an inflection of valer which can mean 'valid' or 'worth' and is also derived from the Latin valēre! everything is connected :D

TLDR two main uses of vale both derived from Latin: vallis meaning valley and valeō meaning to be well/healthy/strong/worth

3: What 1 year and 4 months of being a Re:vale fan does to a man

Yuki and Momo's symbols are both repeats, and the two dots (resembling a colon) are what distinguish repeats from final barlines in sheet music (more of me rambling about their symbols here - it's also where the design on their rings comes from, which is something that I keep realising and then instantly forgetting about).

Considering this, I think that the most relevant and likely intended meaning of the 're:' in Re:vale is repeat - we also see English words with the prefix used in this sense pretty frequently with Re-raise, 'revive' and 'rebirth' in Dis one., and 'restart' and 'reborn' in Period Colour. The 'back' aspect also has some significance here, especially in Re:member (the word remember doesn't mean you're like. membering again. it refers to memories. but the title re:member is very intentionally split that way because re:vale both gains and loses a member, so it works with both the again and back implications. anyways). This is also a bit of a recurring theme in i7, what with the whole "the ideal idol is one that doesn't end" thing.

Turning our attention to vale as in valley, once you look into it the whole "vale of tears" meaning doesn't really align with Re:vale unless you only interpret their story as a tragedy, but if you were to look it up and just see the definition "the world" with very little context, then it seems pretty fitting for the most famous currently active idols in the Idolish7 universe. But it actually symbolises how they mean the world to me and also to each other. And the figurative world of suffering that they have put me through thank you and goodnight. Just kidding there's more. I would say something about the valley (landform) and how Yuki is the river and Momo and Banri are the surrounding hills but you get the idea. Momo would live by the river...... he wouldlive by the river. I think about this every day

Anyways. So I really can't say how much of this is intentional but the 'goodbye' vale is especially accurate if you consider the underlying meaning - it's a way of saying goodbye, but it's also sort of a way of saying good luck and be strong. It's the same as how Banri has to say goodbye to Re:vale, but he also tells Yuki to "find a place to sing as yourself". And valour is kind of Trigger's thing (see: valiant) but reaching a little further for the 'value' meaning, it goes back to the whole Mikansei Na Bokura thing - all three of Re:vale's members had to lose something important to them, but the time they spent with it was still valuable and in the end they're able to retain those experiences and move forward to something just as valuable. In the end the name is a bit of a cluster of things vaguely related to them but I guess if you put it together it's like. The repetition of them saying this to each other. Yeah Momo after his injury getting that push from Yuki and Ban's concert to start saying goodbye and moving on and yeah like nitu said him affirming Yuki. Banri saying goodbye/I can't be there next to you anymore but I'll cheer you on from the sidelines and remember the time we spent together fondly and be able to smile once we meet again (<- from the end of his re:member pov). Yuki stabbing me 12 million times in the chest I mean um. Yuki... yeah I'm gonna need another 14 days to write that post let me get back to you on that one. But you get the idea. You get it

I think I had another point somewhere in here but this post has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I still haven't thought of it. But thank you very much for reading if you've gotten this far!!! As a reward you get a hug from me and the reference list :D

4: References

These aren't organised well at all but hopefully it's not too bad

Australian Writers' Centre: Q&A: The Origin of 'Vale'

Dictionary.com: Re • Vale

The English Idolish7 Wiki (my beloved)

Reddit: Contextual Use of "Vale"

Wiktionary: Vale • Valer • Valeō

also the google definitions of most of these terms but idk how to link those and I can't be bothered

[exo-levi]

Timeless

Title: Timeless Reference: AoT, Taylor Swift's Timeless (parts of it) Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader Universe: Reincarnation!AU, Canonverse Period: AoT Season 4 and Postwar Warning(s): Small amount of spoilers from the manga ahead Theme: Fluff & angst Word count: 1.5k words

Disclaimer: - AoT Universe belongs to Isayama Hajime. - Song used belongs to Taylor Swift

Summary: Haunted by vivid dreams of a past life, she embarks on a quest to uncover the mysteries behind her connection to Levi and a world plagued by Titans. As she delves deeper into the past, she encounters a man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Levi, leading to a profound realization that their love is truly timeless.

It was a tranquil day, perfect for a leisurely stroll through town. The streets were dotted with neighbors engaged in pleasant conversations, relishing the beautiful weather at the park, and the joyful sounds of children playing filled the air. This picturesque scene was a rarity, particularly for her.

Normally confined to her apartment on weekends, she had ventured out today in an attempt to escape the relentless headache that had plagued her for the past two days. It wasn't an illness but rather a persistent sleeplessness that had left her head throbbing.

For nearly a month, she had been experiencing peculiar dreams that seemed almost like vivid memories. Some were nightmarish, inducing terror capable of jolting her awake, while others were warm and filled with longing—for something, for someone.

The previous night was no exception, with her headache intensifying. So, she had chosen to take a walk to clear her mind of the unsettling dream she had just experienced.

"Stay with me," a deep voice had echoed in her dream.

Although everything appeared blurred, the voices were crystal clear. Cries and screams reverberated, creating a cacophony of chaos.

"Levi…"

Who is this Levi?

The eerie feeling of familiarity that accompanied the name lingered, as if she had met him somewhere before. Dismissing it, she continued her walk. Whoever Levi was, she resolved to deal with him—or forget about him—later.

A few steps later, she abruptly halted, inexplicably drawn to an antique shop she had never entered before. While she often passed by it on her way to work, she had never ventured inside. Yet today, an inner impulse guided her through its doors.

As she explored the store, her eyes danced over an array of beautifully preserved items—pottery, vintage furniture, memorabilia, and more. It was remarkable how these artifacts from bygone eras still retained their original charm and pristine condition.

Guided by an unseen force, she eventually reached the counter where a slightly worn-out box captured her attention. In bold marker, it read, "25 cents each." Curiosity piqued, she peeked inside and found it filled with a multitude of old photographs.

"See anything you like, dear?" the shop owner inquired.

"Just looking, Ma'am," she replied with a warm smile.

The owner nodded, "Feel free to browse at your leisure."

Thanking her, she selected two photographs. The first depicted a young woman, radiant in her wedding dress, while the other captured the same woman and a military man sharing an affectionate smile. The love evident in their eyes was undeniable.

Leafing through the stack, she couldn't help but smile at the love story that unfolded before her. These photographs painted a tale of a couple's romance from the 1940s, evoking dreams of an enduring love. The images strangely reminded her of Levi.

…Levi?

That enigmatic name returned, flooding her thoughts once more.

***

"I love you," he whispered in her dream, his eyes locked onto hers in the dim light of their surroundings. Her fingers tenderly brushed through his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear. "I love you too," she replied breathlessly, the aftermath of their passionate encounter still lingering in the air.

Tomorrow marked the day they would reclaim Wall Maria, and they had seized this precious moment to be together before the impending battle.

The memory from her dream played on a loop in her mind, and she couldn't help but be unsettled by the persistent presence of this man named Levi. She had never encountered anyone with raven hair and a stern yet handsome countenance—certainly not in her waking life.

***

"Levi…" she murmured incredulously.

The rain poured relentlessly, drenching her surroundings. There he lay, her beloved, covered in blood and surrounded by shards of wood from a nearby explosion. He looked lifeless. Kneeling beside him, she cradled his head and drew him close, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Would you look at that, our biggest threat is covered in his own blood," Floch muttered from behind. "Let's shoot him in the head," another soldier suggested.

"He's dead," Hange declared. Her eyes met Hange's, and the unspoken understanding between them led her to maintain her silence, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on Levi.

"He was caught in a Thunder Spear explosion at point-blank range. Internally, he's in pieces," the soldiers explained. Floch insisted on checking Levi's pulse, but both she and Hange remained quiet. Before Hange could respond, a nearby Titan began to steam, revealing Zeke beneath it. The soldiers' attention quickly shifted, providing an opportunity for her, Hange, and Levi to slip away. They escaped, rescuing him from the brink of death.

***

"I have brought all the reports from Captain Levi, Ma'am," a cadet reported.

"Thank you, cadet. You're dismissed," the co-captain acknowledged.

With a salute, the cadet left, and the co-captain delved into the files, diligently tending to her captain's duties. Amidst the paperwork, a small folded paper slipped from one of the folders and landed on the floor.

She picked it up and unfolded it, revealing a heartfelt message. A soft smile graced her lips as she recognized the familiar handwriting.

"Don't overwork yourself and always stay hydrated.

I love you.

Levi."

It was the little gestures, the sweet notes, and loving sentiments that Levi conveyed that never failed to warm her heart and rekindle her love for him. She placed the love letter aside, alongside the other letters Levi had written, with the intention of showering him with affection after a long day. He unquestionably deserved it.

***

"Do you ever think about what you'd do when this is all over?" she asked Levi one day.

Levi was taken aback by the genuine question, pausing to contemplate his response. "Hmm," he began, "I'd like to build a Tea Shop."

"A Tea Shop?" she quizzically inquired.

"Yes," he replied, his gaze fixed on her, his voice a soft whisper, "and you'll be there."

Her eyes widened in slight astonishment at his sweet declaration, and then she smiled. She reached out, her fingers gently combing through his hair before caressing his soft cheek. "I'd like that, Levi," she whispered back. She leaned in for a kiss, and as they parted, she continued, "And we'll have a garden outside the Tea Shop, so customers can dine there too. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

Levi chuckled softly at her unexpected enthusiasm. "It does," he concurred. He reached for her hands, bringing them to his lips and planting a tender kiss on her knuckles, his thumbs gently rubbing them. "We'll end this war, and we'll live in peace, together."

His sudden displays of affection never failed to melt her heart and renew her love for him.

"Together."

"Always."

***

"Connie!"

Before Connie could turn to see who had called his name, a powerful shove from behind propelled him out of harm's way, narrowly avoiding an imminent Titan attack he hadn't seen coming. The young woman who had saved him was not so fortunate, as the Titan's teeth sank into her leg during her heroic act. She lost her balance, and in her fall, a claw sliced through her side, causing further injury.

As she plummeted to the ground, Levi caught her, having swiftly moved from a distant part of the battlefield. Gently laying her down, he assessed the extent of her injuries.

"Stay with me," his deep voice echoed.

Although her vision blurred, the voices were clear and distinct. Cries and screams surrounded them, creating a scene of utter chaos.

"Levi…" she whispered weakly, her lifeblood staining the earth beneath her.

In response, he knelt beside her, his expression a mask of concern and fear. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. "I've got you. I'll bandage your wounds and get you out of the combat zone," he promised, his voice trembling.

"Levi…"

She interrupted him, prompting him to meet her gaze. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart raced. He couldn't lose her, not now. "Wrapping my wounds will take time. You need to go back out there and help the others," she insisted, her voice strained. "I'll make it quick. Don't worry."

"Don't."

She interrupted him once more. "Please, Levi, let me go."

He whispered her name, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't lose you like this. We're on the brink of ending this war," he pleaded.

"You won't lose me. We'll find each other in another life," she assured him with a sad smile. Her hand reached up to wipe away a tear that he hadn't realized had fallen. He was silently weeping.

"I love you," she whispered.

He couldn't accept this. They were so close to victory, and he couldn't fathom a life without her. This wasn't what either of them wanted, but if it was the hand fate had dealt them, there was little they could do.

"I love you too."

"Finish this war without me. I have faith in all of you."

Levi leaned down and pressed his forehead on her own, tears escaped the moment his closed his eyes tight. His lover leaned to him closer to kiss him passionately.

"I'll see you later," she whispered.

***

Her heart ached as much as her head did as different memories kept flooding in her mind. She closed her eyes tight for a second to recover herself and realized she's been staring at the same box for who knows how long. She returned the photos in the box and went out of the shop.

Enough of this.

The young woman sighed. Hopefully, she'll find an answer.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet the ache in her heart remained. She resumed her normal life, following her mundane routine, but it felt as though a part of her was missing. Her dreams, those memories from a different time and place, haunted her relentlessly.

One evening, as she gazed out of her window at the setting sun, an overwhelming restlessness consumed her. The need for answers had grown too strong to ignore. The strange connection she felt to the name "Levi" and the vivid memories that felt so real could no longer be dismissed.

Taking a deep breath, she resolved to embark on a quest to unearth the truth behind these haunting memories. She threw herself into research, scouring old books and articles, desperately searching for any mention of a Levi who might have lived during the time of her dreams. It was a long shot, and the odds were against her, but an unshakeable feeling told her that this was important.

Weeks stretched into months as she painstakingly combed through historical records. One day, she stumbled upon a faded photograph in an ancient journal—a black and white image of a group of soldiers. In the center of the photograph stood a man who sent shivers down her spine.

"Levi," she whispered his name aloud, as if to confirm his existence. The man in the photograph possessed the same raven hair and stern yet striking countenance she had seen in her dreams. It couldn't be a coincidence. The journal provided some details about a group of soldiers who had fought in a war against colossal humanoid creatures called Titans. It was a war that had occurred over a century ago, and most of the soldiers had perished.

Delving deeper into her research, she discovered that the war against the Titans had taken place in a world vastly different from her own. A world where humanity lived within colossal walls to protect themselves from these monstrous entities. It was a world that should have had no connection to her, yet the memories and emotions she experienced were undeniably real.

With newfound determination, she decided to seek out a local historian who specialized in that era. Perhaps this historian could provide more information about the soldiers who had fought in the Titan War, particularly the mysterious Levi.

The historian's office was a cluttered treasure trove of ancient documents and maps, a testament to his lifelong dedication to his field. He listened attentively as she recounted her dreams and the inexplicable connection she felt to a past life.

After a long pause, the historian finally spoke. "What you're describing is known as reincarnation memories—a phenomenon where individuals recall events and emotions from their past lives. It's rare but documented."

"But why do I have these memories, and why do I feel so connected to this Levi?" she implored, her desperation palpable.

The historian leaned forward, his gaze a mix of curiosity and sympathy. "It's possible that your soul carries the memories of a previous life, and for some reason, they've resurfaced in this lifetime. As for your connection to Levi, it's a mystery. Perhaps you were deeply entwined in that past life, and your souls remain bound in some way."

Leaving the historian's office with more questions than answers, she knew she couldn't stop now. The memories of her past life were like fragments of a puzzle begging to be pieced together. The sensation of her connection to Levi felt more than mere happenstance.

The following day, she decided to visit a teashop she had never frequented. It was a small, charming establishment with an atmosphere of tranquility—an ideal setting to collect her thoughts and attempt to make sense of her experiences. As she entered and settled into a corner table, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu washed over her.

Ordering her favorite tea, she watched as steam curled from the cup, her thoughts drifting back to the memories of love, war, and sacrifice that had played out in her dreams. It was almost as if she could hear Levi's voice softly murmuring, "Together, always."

Lost in her thoughts, the teashop's door swung open, and a man entered. With raven hair and a stern, yet striking countenance, their eyes locked. Time seemed to stand still as recognition flooded over them both.

"Levi?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he made his way toward her table. "I… I don't know how, but I remember you," he said, his voice filled with equal parts incredulity and longing.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached out to touch his hand, and he covered it with his own. In that moment, the inexplicable connection between their souls became undeniably real.

"I love you," she whispered, just as she had in her dreams.

"I love you too," he replied, their love transcending time and space.

As they sat together in that small teashop, hand in hand, they knew that their reunion was no mere coincidence. Their love had endured through the ages, a love that was truly timeless.

About. Masterlist. Taglist.

Yours truly,

Rowan.