#Oh god he wants to protect the scared and hes CHOOSING to follow in his fathers footsteps <- never had a real choice btw

[castielsparkle]

So does anypony else feel fucking nauseous and insane. about to go to bed i dont have time to dissect this so ill leave it here but um. ok!

#cas.txt #meta #spn #dean winchester #dean #the dean studies this is going to bring from me. Christ dude #the final line literally felt like a punch to the gut ohhhh my god #lot to unpack here #him calling john dad makes me. insane. when he. we Will be a family Again. oh god #he never had! LIKE! sam is his family . and i just #i dont know how to articulate this i need to kill john so fucking bad #so bad. #he. sounds . so sweet and hopeful and its killing me can not do this #im killing john gruesomely + plucking dean up and placing him in a warm safe bed to sleepys. hes. #okay goodnight. #Oh god he wants to protect the scared and hes CHOOSING to follow in his fathers footsteps <- never had a real choice btw #he doesnt KNOW anything Else #that was 'family' for him .!!!!! forever! #and.!!!!! Exploring the unknown he doesnt know sooo much HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. #Youtube #edit: i did not tag this youtube um ok? also. thesis: dont do this

[potol0ver]

Hello, I'm a new follower of yours! I wanted to send in a little request if you're feeling up to it! I know how you feel my health has been up and down, so I hope you feel better!

Anyway, my request is pregnancy hc's for any phantom of your choosing. How would Erik react to his darlings condition? Would he be happy, sad , jealous? Thank you for hearing my thoughts! Also I find that ginger tea helps soothe alot of symptoms, so I hope that might help as well!

Oohhhh I have many thoughts about this- and thank you for the suggestion, I do like tea so I’ll try and make some for myself <3

Ok so first off Cherik would be over the moon weather or not the baby is his- he’d love that little baby so much and be so protective over it. He might be a little saddened and jealous it isn’t biologically his but damn it he is going to love that baby as if it was. He’d help you through out the pregnancy and everything, he’d be the type of partner to lovingly but sassily make you sit back down because you are getting princess treatment no matter what you say.

Gerik (that’s the proper name for Gerard’s Erik right?) would have mixed feelings. He’d start by crying his heart out if it’s not his child, but would get over it and live the child simply because it’s yours. Obviously he’d still hate the guy you did have the child with but he’ll try his best not to project it onto the child. No matter if it’s his or not he’s doing extensive research on pregnancy and being a parent, because god knows this man needs the help with that. He’d be so scared to touch the child when it is born, he doesn’t want to make the same mistakes that his “family” did to him, so prepare for a distant Erik that you need to help through it.

Now… book Erik? ORIGINAL ERIK BY GASTON??? Oh I can see that man either having total emotional break in the way he’s now can’t feel much OR this situation will quickly turn into a horror movie- that’s all I’ll say about it because there are SO MANY DIRECTIONS I believe this man could go- and none of them are warm and comforting in my mind-

#erik destler #erik poto #phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #erik x reader

[via-rant]

Reuploading Chapter 5! Changed a lot about it! Gave it more thought! Here!

Percy felt sick to his stomach, looking at his shoulder, gushing with blood. His eyes darted up at Luke. What had he done to these kids that they'd turn out like this?

Luke looked at Leo in horror. He opened his mouth like he was gonna say something, but it's like he didn't know what to say.

Then, of course, there was Nico. He looked like he was about to cry. "Leo, please. Don't hurt him."

Leo gripped the knife tighter. "He let your sister die, why shouldn't I hurt him?"

Percy swallowed thickly. It was true, he hadn't been fast enough, strong enough. He should've protected her. He should've been the one to die. This was only fair.

Nico took Leo's hand in his own. "I... I don't want him to get hurt. Please, I..." He got choked up, and broke down in front of his best friend.

Leo opened his arms and let Nico fall into them. "It's the only way, Nico. We both know it. It's the only way for us to win."

Nico hated this. He wished there was a way to leave without going back to the gods. To try and topple them over without relying on the titans. He knew they'd be trading one set of dictators for another if they kept on like this.

Leo held him tighter. "Besides, it's not like he'll let us live."

That angered Percy more than anything, and he spoke through the pain.

"You really think... I'm heartless enough to kill you two?" He asked. "You're just kids. And Nico..." He sighed. "... Nico, all I've ever wanted was to protect you. I'm sorry I failed."

Nico was torn, and confused, and just wished he didn't have to choose.

Luke stepped forward. "I guess we're not that different, then." Luke held out a hand, offering it to Percy.

Don't do this. Please. You're my most valuable asset.

"So you finally admit it." Luke admitted under his breath. "You're powerless without me."

You'll regret this insolence, boy! I'll make your life hell!

Percy took his hand and pulled himself up. "... Does this mean you're coming back?"

Luke thought for a moment. He didn't want to face Chiron again, didn't want to be expected to admit he was wrong, to suck up to the olympians. But if that's what it took to ensure these kids' safety...

"... Fine." He brought Percy over to the cot Leo had been laying in, fixing up his arm.

This better be a trap. You better be spying.

Leo glared up at Luke. "So you're just gonna let him back into our lives when he screwed everyone over!?" His hands balled into fists by his sides. "You're a joke."

He's right.

Luke cut a length of bandage. "He's right. It's safer over there. Better food, real beds and wooden structures instead of tents. And an actual medbay instead of just letting you fend for yourselves when you're sick or hurt."

"Is that it?" Percy asked. "You're not coming back because you've realized you're wrong?"

Luke shrugged. "You actually take care of each other over there. The whole reason I left is because I was sick of the gods leaving us to fend for ourselves, but we do the same thing here. Survival of the fittest and all that."

Percy nodded thoughtfully, watching the bandage wrap around his arm. He still didn't trust Luke, but he was willing to do whatever got these kids to safety. Percy wondered why the other kid, Leo, look so hurt and watched as he stormed out in anger, Nico following him. They just noticed Faith at the tent looking confused and scared.

-------

"Leo what's wrong?" Nico asked following him close behind.

" 'What's wrong?!' We're watching our leader turn against us, that's what!"

"They hurt you. You passed out, he's protecting us."

" 'Protecting us'?! What?! Like Agnus?!" Leo yelled and Nico glared. Agnus is a guy they trusted. They became friends and he used them, framed them for drug use.

"That's different." Nico said, sounding like he was going to cry again.

"Oh, it's different! It's always different!" Leo yelled and Nico glared harder. He didn't know what that meant but he could tell he heard it a lot. Maybe he said it a lot. And he did. He's trusted over and over and over and they all ended up with him heartbroken. And he had that same feeling with Luke now. He's not ignoring it again.

"We can. Trust him." Leo had smoke coming from his arms but neither noticed.

"No! You can trust him! How am I supposed to trust a guy who used kids?!"

"He saved my life! He just saved yours!"

"He probably only did it because he felt obligated to!"

"He's been taking care of us!"

"Just like everyone else here! You think we're special?!"

"Woah woah woah boys!" Faith said running to them. She didn't hear anything they said except the last few sentences. And she saw the smoke coming from Leo. His arms, legs, hair. She heard commotion over here with swords and came over as fast as she could when she heard them arguing. She took a breath.

"Nico? Why don't you go see Luke? I need to talk with Leo." Nico stormed off to the tent wiping his tears and kicking rocks on the way as cracks showed up in the ground under his feet. Faith looked back at Leo and sat in front of him.

"What?" He asked holding back tears. She pat the spot in front of her and he rolled his eyes but did what she said in an angrier way, knees to his chest, picking at the grass next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Nothing!" He yelled and she sat quietly in concern. She waited until he was calmed down just a bit. The smoke clearing with each piece of grass he ripped out of the ground.

"You know I'd never hurt you. Right? You can talk to me." She said and it was a few seconds before Leo sighed.

"I met dad."

"Oh! Really? When?"

"In my dream." She smiled.

"Was I right?" And he laughed a little. "Yeah you were right. It's 'Hephy'." He used finger quotes and frowned, wiping his tears and she frowned with him. She debated asking about the smoke but decided against it. Focus on helping him relax.

"What happened?"

"He watched. My entire life he watched and did nothing." He hugged his legs tighter. "And now Luke is leaving and you guys saw the smoke and I might have just ruined mine and Nicos friendship." He was crying at this point.

"I fucking stabbed someone, Faith! What is wrong with me?!" He yelled then hid his head in his knees.

"Mi Tía tenía razón. Soy el diablo (My aunt was right. I am the devil)." He cried and she didn't know what he said but she knew what to say about the other things. He started to calm himself down.

"Hun, there is nothing wrong with you. You learned something horrible and reacted. Also you and Nico just had an arguement. That happens sometimes. Friends have arguements. You just need to apologize and make up for it however you can." She assured and he wiped his tears taking deep breaths. Then she thought about the other things she saw, things he mentioned.

"What about the smoke?"

"It's not just smoke. It's fire. I hate it. I have no control over it and get too worked up about something and I always end up hurting someone."

"So you don't use it?"

"What if I lose control again?"

"Leo, it's better to use it more. The more you use it, the more practice you have with it. Learn to control it so you don't hurt the good people when you do use it."

"How?"

"I can look in my archives. Maybe I can find something there." Leo made a face of disgust.

"Boring."

"You read."

"Fantasy books, ma'am. With action and adventure. Not text books." He said and she rolled her eyes with a smile as he laughed. Especially at ma'am. Being Trans was really hard here. People respected her but only when they knew it was her. Anyone who didn't know her just immediately thought she was a guy. Short hair (all the woman had to cut their hair short due to the lack of supplies they had) taller, more muscular than a woman. She didn't have any satisfaction of any HRT or surgeries due to her family kicking her out as soon as she said those words, so her voice sounded "manly" too. Leo understood. He told her about being born a girl when she told him.

She shook her head knowing she was getting off topic. Then thought about the last thing he said.

"One more thing Leo." She asked and he raised a brow. "What do you mean by Luke is leaving?" He told her what happened since he woke up and she stared in heartbreak.

"I'll uh... I'll talk to him and we can come up with something." She said when he finished explaining.

"Come on. Let's go check on Nico first. Then bed time. It's getting late." He nodded and stood up before hugging her. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders - as she was still sitting down - which surprised her. He didn't let anyone else but Nico touch him unless they needed to. This means he trusted her. She smiled and hugged back. They lasted for about a minute before walking back to the tent, Leo ignoring the voice in the back of his head.

-------

The first part is by @moa-broke-me !!

@yonemurishiroku @pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid @potatoman-taterdude @the-demigod-slytherclaw @im-always-lost-in-a-book @stillcarmine @art-randomness @cryptic-ember

#obrumbratio scintillae #leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelo #percy jackson #luke castellan #faith port #trans #trangender #trans leo valdez #transfem #transmasc

[curuxavermella]

Alright demon attendant pals buckle the fuck up: lesson 11 just dropped and I was losing my mind the entire goddamn time because of s o l o m o n.

Previousy on me, losing my shit over this game: (lessons 1 to 10)

ALRIGHT LET'S GO

I can't believe Belphie came straight for our throat AGAIN (Diavolo seemed to want to stop him THANK GOD) and Lucifer was reeeally pissed off, but understandably so if we get in his shoes. Solomon rescues our ass from this bunch of demons and whisks us away. I wished we could've talked it out, but you know, bit of extra angst doesn't hurt. Especially if we get to see Thirteen BECAUSE YES SOLOMON TAKES US TO THE REAPER'S CAVE AND I WAS DYING TO SEE HER AGAIN. AND WE DO. MY GIRL.

I also thought they'd give her Reaper clothes since, well RAD soesn't exist (yet) but. Lol. My dreams were dashed. They did address the issue of why she was wearing it to excuse the lack of a new design, which made me lose my shit laughing. Okay fine, I'll drop it for now, Solmare, BUT MY GIRL DESERVES MORE CLOTHES. I WILL BE WAITING.

Also the casual drop that she has a sister named Candy. Now I wanna meet her.

Anyways I digress, I love Solomon and I said I trusted him with my life. Until now, because this fucker dropped this shit on me and I legit had to put my phone down for a couple of seconds.

Son of a bitch. You kitchen-destroyer menace. You death-chef bastard. You can't ask THIS of me. Out of ANYTHING you could've asked mc, this fucker pulled the worst one. I'm so mad because I refuse to lose trust in Solomon in Nightbringer despite this story bombs being dropped on me, but this combined with something else later in ch11 makes me want to be wary. But I also don't want to, because despite all story hints, I don't believe for a second they'd hurt mc, so I'm grabbing every bull thrown at me by the HORNS and every single one of you WILL BE SAFE by the end of this story OR SO HELP ME.

Speaking of horns. The demon bros follow us, obviously, except for Beel (who we knocked out in lesson 10), Belphie (who stayed behind with Beel obvs and also he wouldn't come to help us because he's hurt and angry and the Lilith wound is still fresh I get it Belphie I DO—but DAMN it STINGS) and Satan who already had stayed back at the House and my boy is missing this whole party. I legit yelled when I heard Mammon's scream in the Reaper's Cave.

I loved how Asmo, Levi and Mammon came to warn us that Lucifer was coming, because they're worried and I love them so much I COULD KISS THEM. I kinda wish the Mammon turned into Little. D gag didn't last for the rest of the lesson though. Asmo himself ways it makes this thing less serious. Oh well. I hope he gets turned back soon bc shit went down later and we need EXTRA HANDS ON DECK.

and finally I got the option that I wanted: that we wanted to talk to him. Or we can defer to Solomon. If my eyes keep narrowing at him I might as well close them and fall asleep. Anyways hell no, Sol dear, sorry.

So when he appears down we go. Everyone's worried sick. Solomon reminds us about siding with humanity if things go down bad and while I adore my fav sorcerer, I refuse to fight the demon brothers, so my choice was made in case they made me pick a side (and I was scared they'd make me choose lol). Anyways Solomon and Lucifer looked about ready to rip each other apart, but Lucifer held him in place and I was. Not expecting that. I thought Solomon would be able to fend him off at least a little bit, but I was wrong.

Obviously his target is us. Not Solomon. Oh boy.

I love this man so much. He's obviously wary of us because we have power over them and he sees it as a threat to his family, so I can't hold his anger against him even as he froze Solomon on the spot (not literally but, well, I bet he would have) and kinda. Tried to attack us. Oops. However, he doesn't know us, and he's doing what he thinks it's best to protect his family. I kinda get his point even if I don't agree with it, and it kinds reminds me of the Belphie situation in the og one: he's doing what he thinks is best, but he Fucks Up because we've been nothing but helpful and well, he's probably seen we've been helping his brothers. They defend you, too, but Lucifer is Not Having it for the moment.

Here has a choice that I love, if you pardon my Luci brainrot for a bit:

If we choose that one it doesn't clarify what we mean, but we gain points with him, because we know. He's hurt. Plus we have the ring, and again there's the fact that we have power over them, that they gave us, yeah, but they don't know about it. He's probably freaked out, at least a little bit.

Anyways I love Thirteen for busting our asses free and throwing us a Grimoire, which can be used to control demons, apparently, and if it was mentioned in the og I forgot about it. Oops. Well, I love that our only option is to give Luci the grimoire as a gesture of good faith because they're our demon family and just like Luci, we're doing our damn hardest to protect all of them.

If you say "I love all of you", you get points with Mammon, Asmo and Levi. If you choose that you want to protect them, you gain points with Luci instead. I need a second-

And this is when shit goes down for me because SOLOMON LOOKED SO DISAPPOINTED WHEN YOU HAND OUT THE GRIMOIRE????? And Thirteen did say he wanted it... because the Grimoire allows control over the demons. Sol is not making it easy for me here in this damn game.

(edit: also apparently it's. it's the goddamn Grimoire that's over Lilith's tomb in the og game, the one Luke finds when they go down to the Catacombs. Holy shit.)

And with the previous "siding with humanity" dialogue it's just. Alarm bells all over, non-stop. I don't know if we get different choices if we lean on Solomon too much, or if MC is following their own path in this mess so it doesn't matter what we choose before. Do we have a choice? Or MC has their own path that they will follow, which is protecting their family? Mind you, my mc's family is all of them: Demons and Purgatory Hall, so before choosing a side they'd stop this "war" from happening. I think this is what mc will choose, if it comes down to it. Perhaps this is what Nightbringer wants? But no demons/angels/humans war happened in the future where we come from, so it wouldn't make sense unless it will happen after our future time, where we can't stop it for some reason, and the only way is to send us to the past so we fix this mess before it happens.

Can you imagine? Barbatos sent us to the past because we can save everyone. I'd say Solomon followed without Barbatos knowing, but... I'm not so sure. My trust compass is going nuts, and I don't want to. I want to trust Solomon. I hope after the Grimoire thing he lets it go, because he has to know mc better than that: he has to know mc would choose their family over everything else in a heartbeat, and if there's a choice to stop this war-mess from happening, they will do it, even at their own peril. Maybe Solomon is trying to stop us from fucking dying because we'll end up choosing that option, who knows? It's an scenario that could fit. If the demon family was the cause of mc's death I think Solomon would burn down the House of Lamentation without a second thought to spare if it mean saving mc. Which is a problem.

There is an extra tidbit before the demons show up in the Reaper's Cave, where Thirteen tells us a bit more of Solomon lore, with a sprinkle of Barbatos.

I'd think Barb and Sol were working together, honestly. Even if Barbatos hates his guts now for some reason lol. If Solomon had done something grave, I think Barnatos would be way less lenient with him. As far as I can tell, he's just annoyed at the moment, so... no world-threatening betrayals, hopefully?

Back to the present with Luci and the present brothers. We give them the Grimoire, and then we fuck up.

Solomon tried to make us promise to aid humanity before, but both Thirteen and MC stopped in their tracks. Thirteen said "it's against the rules". If it's in the og, I forgot about it o(-< but by their reaction, it doesn't sound good. While doing this draft, I saw someone (edit: it was "still a morosexual help", bless them I love their om comments because I tend to ramble and miss points and reading their stuff help me keep in track of little things I missed!) say it might be because it's a bind. So, well, shit.

And we get a cliffhanger with that line as the end, because screw us, that's why. Who's responsible for these two cliffhangers in a goddamn row. I just want to fucking TALK. I started this lesson at 2:30am when I saw the notification and it's almost 6am now and the energy I gained doing this has died down.

The writing sure feels like it's gone up a notch. I'm living for it, honestly. Can't wait for Lesson 12 and see how we screwed up. If it's a bind, well, we'll roll with it lol.

aaand TO LESSON 12 WE GO

#Anne plays obey me! nightbringer #long post #saving this just like the other post for posterity so i can look back to it!! #nightbringer spoilers #obey me! #obey me! nightbringer

[samedilanight]

Rewatching Romeo + Juliette and craving a lucemond fic like that,                  this is messy sorry if it doesn’t make any sense, I really really want to write it but I don’t have enough knowledge of hotd and tbh with you I understood nothing of what they were saying in the movie so if I write it it might take some time (that plus the fact I have a collection to do lol) btw they wouldn’t be related in this, Aegon and Aemond neither

just imagine Romeo as Aemond being the best lover out there, writing poems and verses to express his love for Lucerys, sick puppy love, being this drama queen about love and life. Aemond not giving a fuck about the people at the party who could see him, kissing the boy that shattered his world and stole his heart in 3 seconds while looking at fish. being immediately drawn to him asking him if he could kiss him Luke being all shy and a little shit about it. Aemond going out of his way just to see him again risking absolutely everything to kiss him again and be with him. Then learning he is a Capulet being torn with the decision he has to make and choosing love. Aemond doing everything he can to marry Luke as soon as possible, convincing the priest and all that shit meanwhile he’s known Lucerys for 1 day. 

Mercutio as Aegon (rocking the sparkly outfit as he fucking should) he is dramatic, he is feminine, he is a bit mad, he his very pretentious, and a tad jealous of seeing Aemond’s attention being stolen and Aemond’s bestie. His death makes Aemond absolutely FERAL with rage and grief seeking vengeance, scaring the hell out of Jake with a madness he has never seen in anyone eyes, then kills Jake without any mercy just rage (while Luke is out there dreaming about his marriage and making out with Aemond again not giving a shit about the family feud)

Luke horny as fuck on their wedding night waiting for him, then proceeds to learn of  his cousin death’s, crying about it and afterwards having the best sex of his life.

Alicent hating Raenyra because of whatever reason , Visery’s not giving a fuck following Alicent

Lucerys being precious Juliet seeing life through Aemond eyes and being completely in love at first glance, being over the moon for him, talking to himself out loud, dreaming about him and what their life together could be. Lucerys in the angel outfit ROCKING the world of Aemond. Not wanting to be with anyone else as soon as he saw him, thinking this is destiny, this was written in the stars, this is fated.

Rhaenys being the nurse, protecting Luke thinking Aemond’s an asshole

Daemon drunk as fuck letting Aemond being at the party because he doesn’t care (that’s so him honestly)

THE POOL SCENE OH MY GOD

Jacerys being Tybalt that LOTHES Aemond (anti lucemond until the end) all being the family feud because it gives him a purpose in life and a kind of power (which was just a childish quarrel over who has the biggest dick let’s be honest)

Aemond crying his soul out at Aegon’s death, losing his purpose when he thinks that Luke is dead, Luke dying twice when he wakes up and finds Aemond dying in front of him then kills himself now that he has no purpose in life without his Aemond.

Oh to be dramatic teenagers in love

#lucemond #lucerys x aemond #romeo and juliet #dramaqueen #doomed love #fated feud

[spectres-fulcrum]

I love Chaos Rising so much. I haven't been liveblogging it too much but it was like "no way it's better than Thrawn or Treason" but tbh it's same level. It's a different kind of story but it's still so good. Here's some highlight thoughts.

I will protect Che'ri with my life. She is so precious and hurt and I just want good things for her and seeing her be around people that respect her is everything. I died when she was sobbing because she and Thalias had a fight because Thalias was leaving and she was scared she was going to die thinking Che'ri hated her.

Also, Thalias showing Thrawn Che'ri's drawings and them making sure she had 2(!!!) new sets of markers for their journey and plenty of drawing paper(And Che'ri being annoyed her mom is showing off her art). So quietly domestic in everything going on. Making sure their kid has stuff to do on a long road trip.

I nearly cried during Thrawn teaching Che'ri how to fly and how she realizes it's all an offer. She doesn't have to learn-it's not an order. It's an offer. And it helps with her fears and confidence. She's been abused and Thrawn and Thalias and Ar'alani do so much to reteach her.

Thrawn himself. It's so very much Thrawn, but I can tell he's more... Comfortable. Among the chiss. Before whatever led to his exile/"exile." He smiles more in these books. His narratives don't have him watching others so closely and cataloging their moves. He's so tactile with Thalias, always touching her arm or steering her places. He never touches people in the Empire books, I think. But with her, tactileness seems to be easy. Almost something he seeks out. And his speech just seems more free. Definitely less closed off. More polite too. It's all small things but I can tell he's still Thrawn but this is a much more comfy Thrawn in his own space.

My thoughts on Ar'alani has gone mild(1st read of Treason)->like(2nd read of Treason)->Love(CR). I love her in this book so much. She is such a good commander and giving up her family must've been so hard.

Also my view of Thrawn and Ar'alani is this: If it had ever been mutually romantic, it always would've been so I'm going to assume that if it was ever romantic, it was one sided(Likely Ar'alani because this Thrawn STILL botches emotional moments like the fucking shipping container-Zahn placed them in a shipping container and that man still couldn't respond with the right kind of emotion I swear to god I don't know what's worse that or GDLV because at least Thrawn had excuses for GDLV) and never acted upon to preserve their friendship. Because if they loved, it would've been deep and soulmate level.

wait wait wait what happened to jordan anderson sorry nascar truck driver truck caught on fire he got taken away in medical heliocpter horrible week for nascar they have dropped the ball on safety oh my fucking god he better be okay I swear to god nascar.

Anyway where was I. Thrawnalani. Platonic soulmates. Ride or die. Would follow each other anywhere.

I LOVED the Mitth homestead and Thoorki. Also him choosing both Thrawn and Thalias and him entrusting Thalias with looking after Thrawn against those who want to take him down was so... I don't have the right word yet but important. Regal? I hope nothing happens to him(I know it will but Thoorki is good).

As an audiobook listener I miss Samakro because he sounds like Eli :/ But he's coming around. He respects Thrawn.

Okay my mind crapped out once I realized Jordan Anderson was actually hurt and I need to get ready for work but here's a lot of it.

Che'ri defense squad, Thrawn is comfy, smiley, and tactile, but emotionally level 1, he and Ar'alani are ride and die, I love this cast so much.

#chaos rising #bre reads chaos rising #che'ri #thrawn #ar'alani #this week has been horrible for that sport

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Virtue!! Your event!!!! Why are you so sweet let me smooch you😭

If it's okay I would love to tell you about my Selfship with none other but Benkei bear 🫶

Sadly I don't have any selfship art bc your bitch is broke but I have a picrew

We're just that wholesome lil couple where you think "oh my how adorable I want that too!"

We got our difficulties choosing movies because I live for horror and gore which he's scared of bc he's a baby. All big and tough but he's the softest. He would keep a light on when I listen to true crime to fall asleep and states it's so he can read and play with my hair but in reality he's scared (but won't say anything bc he knows I can't fall asleep otherwise)

He would protect me from everything and speak for me when anxiety kicks in but as we know I'll gladly destroy kneecaps if someone pisses my loved ones off so I think this dynamic fits us best

He's this cool headed, calm, rational guy that likes to be loud and cheer all his friends on while I'm that impulsive little crackrat that can't open her mouth for shit - and if I do it's either veeery quiet (or I will make you question your existence if you chose to fuck around and find out)

Him and Ace are best buddies and it makes me question from time to time if he's with me so he can hang out with my dog 💔 can't blame him tho, that stinky is a legend.

Our song is Work song by Hozier. It just gives me this big ol Benkei vibes.

You probably have the whole knowledge of A-Z about him thanks to yours truly 🫶

And about me uh yeah. I'm a lil Shrimpy that would kill for her dog and loved ones, big anger issues but a shy baby. As you know I love to crochet and lately to paint / draw.

I don't know what else to tell you but I could go on for hours about how much I would like to lay in bed and cuddle him right now because yeah. I love him and he's that big walking heater that likes to cuddle.

I just love this man why is he not real 🥹

Greet the Breadstick from me please and give her some good booty scratches if she's into that🖤

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◇─◇──◇── @benkeibear  x Benkei! ──◇──◇─◇

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birthday edition!!! Wishing you a very tolerable year with more ups than downs hehe <3 <3

□ I feel like Benkei has definitely tried to train you a bit in the past. So he can be particularly comfortable and secure in your ability to stand you ground against the GIANTS you experience on the daily.

□ And thank god it happened after hours bc i think it has also once maybe ended in steamy locker room times.

□ Benkei has tried to squat Ace (with ace kind laying on/being held on his shoulders). I don't think ace loved that. His lil face was VERY CONFUSED, but the gym insta followers loved the video.

□ this one is kinda out there but i think maybe Benkei might have discovered yarn bombing and coordinated with some local grandmas to yarn bomb a park. I think he probably tried to get you to teach him (I'm not sure if his hands were quite dexterous enough) but tldr, the grandma population loves him and he thinks it's a very silly idea.

□ big spoon/little spoon? Puh-lease. Benkei lays on you. He hugs your hips and nestles his cheek into your tum and he could die happily like that, your warmth on his cheek. It's super cute right!!! WRONG! Come winter you are going to be plagued by his COLD NOSE. It is the ONLY PART OF THE MAN THAT GETS COLD. But ugh anything for him T.T

□ Benkei sends you a video every. single. walk. with Ace because he's a silly boy or his ears flopped really cutely.

□ He absolutely lifts you in the grocery store.

□ Benkei, in all his buff, yet soft glory spends a lot of time at Shinichiro's place lately. He always smells really sweet when he comes back too.

□ it's weird but like it's Benkei. Benkei would never do anything so sketchy as cheat.

□ Of course, he was really getting baking lessons from housewife in the making Emma. Even better than the cheesecake me makes for your birthday, is the stack of photos of Benkei with each and every one of his failed creations along the way.

□ Also, he's the most reasonable of the older gen trio, but he still forgot candles so you just blew out his lighter lmaooo

□ I just know he'd be coordinating for months to get people to get to see you irl esp after the last few years of wild shit. It's made even more sweet bc I don't think he's really the stay-tightly-in-touch type so it's really a little labor of love and UGH I LOVE YOU TWO.

□ Most importantly Benkei lets me play flirt with you and is in on the running joke that if heaven forbid anything happens to him, I get you

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If anyone but rhy made it here - sorry yall, this is me celebrating our girl's birthday so it's a super special extended length version.

BACK TO IT THO!!!!

Have you ever lovingly teased him about his very of-the-time tribal-y tattoos?be honest. eheheh

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Come make my day, tell me about your self ship, and get some hcs of your own.

#SelfVi's Event #Birthday special #only the one post tonight #rough dy at work

[spyrkle4]

*SCREAMING FUCKING SCREAMING OVER ALL IN*

I CANT BELIEVE THEY ENDED IT LIKE THAT AND OH MY GOD SO MUCH HAPPENED

HOLY BANANAS IT WAS SOMETHING ELSE

(spoilers under cut)

-IM SO GLAD MR. X IS A GOOD GUY NOW AND HELPING OUT

-MR AND MRS. B ARE AMAZING

-THE HERONS?!?! OH BOY TRAUMA! I feel so bad for the plantars ;-; but that bit where Anne says she’ll be there for them got me

-AND THEN THEY FIGHT THE HERONS WHEN THEY THREATEN THE BOONCHUYS BC THEY WANT TO PROTECT THEIR FAM AAAAA

-The Marcy mindscape... creepy... so creepy... and they rly did block her memories O_o

-Darcy creeps me out more and more O_o

-speaking of that OH MY FUCKING GOD THE ARM THEORIES WERE REAL

THEY WERE REAL

BUT NOT WITH ANNE OOOOHOHHH BOY THE CREW DECIDED SOMEONE ELSE LOSES AN ARM

-I WAS SO SCARED FOR GRIME WHEN HE FOLLOWED SASHA INTO THE GENERATOR ROOM BC ANNE GOT HER POWERS WHEN SHE THOUGHT SPRIG DIED

-AND OH MY GOD WHEN HIS ARM FELL OFF I WAS SHOOKETH I WAS SCREAMING

-Andrias cyborg????

-THE LETTER FROM LEIF *SOB* THE PART WHERE SHE SIGNS IT AS “YOUR LEIF” AND HOW SHE CANT BE TOGETHER WITH ANDIRAS AND BARREL ANYMORE. THEY REALLY ARE THE DIVORCE TRIO

-The way Sasha defeated Darcy... epic. she cant change who she was in the past but she can change who she is now and she chooses to better herself 

-Im so glad she didn’t fall for Darcy trying to use Marcy against her bc nuh uh Sasha aint falling for your bs Core

-The message of change be scary but the memories are still there and it doesnt mean they are gone and even tho things cant be the same they can still be good GIVES ME FEELS

-Oh god the Core is a tiny spider now... squash it

-”WHAT PROPHECY??????” MOOD MARCY MOOD 

-THE FLASHBACK WITH ANDRIAS AND MARCY... WOW I RLY FEEL BAD FOR THIS MAN WHO GOT MANIPULATED BY HIS FATHER AND HIS SUPERIOR COMPLEX CORE FRIENDS FOR A THOUSAND YEARS

-tho they are right Andrias cant take back what he did or be forgiven but in the end he choose to do the right thing

-the part where persuades the Core not to kill Marcy?? i guess he rly did care for her in some twisted way ;-;

-Was expecting Sasha to go all Calamity on Darcy but since she didn’t.... ohhh boy I am scared of Sasha she is 13 and could punch a wall

-I cant believe there were more cloak bots

-THE ANNE VS. ANDRIAS FIGHT SEQUENCE. EPIC AF 

-”I JUST WANTED AN ESSAY” -Local private school principal after seeing one of her students about to fight the leader of a robot invasion

-”Can u tell our parents we’re okay” ARE WE GONNA FINALLY SEE THE WAYBRIGHT AND WU PARENTS??!?!

-Tho speaking of that im happy that the girls reassured Marcy that even if they’re apart they’ll still be friends and since she started the plot fearing they’d fall apart that was so sweet of them and they’re def gonna repair their friendship ;-;

-Im so glad Marcy had SO MANY GOOD MOMENTS IN THIS EP cuz she wasnt super in S3 Physically so she rly any % speedran her character development

-also cannot believe brain jail was puzzle jail 

-And Polly is robotics genius (the bh6 fan part of me has the mental image of her going to sfit lmao) 

-FROBO <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

-Mr X’s line of “your tax dollars going to work” was so good

-THE FIGHT SCENE MUSIC EPIC AF

-The yulivia shippers are gonna go wild at the part where they hold off the cloak bots

-and I cant believe the moon falling is real i thought that was some symbolism stuff

-ARE THE CALAMITY TRIO GOING TO DESTROY THE MOON???? WHAT TF DO THEY DO ABOUT THAT?!

-DO THEY PUSH THE MOON BACK INTO IT’S SPOT LIKE “HEY GTF BACK THERE WE STOPPED INVADING PLACES”

-I like the hints that Anne will still be in contact with Sprig and the Plantars post-canon bc thank god i did not want them to be seperated

-they referenced monster of the week....

-ALSO GRIME CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.. HOW HE SAYS SASHA CHANGED HIS LIFE??? WE STAN A MAN

#amphibia spoilers #amphibia season 3 #amphibia #amphibia all in #just sparks things #THIS EP WAS A LOT

[jadedsnowtiger]

Just a idea..

The four of them.

They were a team, closer than anything you have.

One is half animal, his senses sharp and on point. The one that didn't want to be a leader, he was too busy in his mindset of reconnaissance, protection and aiding others.

One is a half demon, a strong empath who had to close off her very emotions to prevent her powers from losing control. The one who many didn't know was so comforting and compassionate.

One is literally the embodiment of Superman. The one that attacked first, held strong the lines of any situation they were facing.

The last was the scariest of all.

A human with the mind, power and skill set to bring the world to its knees.

These four were a powerhouse.

Trapped in a limbo they were not children anymore, but yet not adults.

Sitting under the night sky they were out watching the polar lights as they flew across the sky. Lined up side by side, as they lay on the grass, a small batch of smoke sat above them as they talked.

"If Superman needs the sun for powers... Why can't I run around naked?"

Rachel put down her joint, turning to Conner. "What?"

"Naked, I would get more sun." Conner thought out loud, as he lay down on the grass looking up at the sky.

"Heal faster, run faster."

"Get charged with indecent exposure?" Tim took the joint off Rachel, who looked on in fear.

"Scare Rachel?" Gar pointed out, as she remained unmoved. "You okay, Mama?"

"If Superman is running around naked...Green Lantern would follow... Then Green Arrow would join in..." Rachel spoke looking out into the night.

"None wants to see Oliver naked." Tim patted Rachel's arm. "Lay down, sweetheart, I'll protect you."

Rachel lay back down in between Tim and Gar, before cuddling into Tim's side. Tim only laughed, as he hugged her close, placing her head on his chest.

"What about a speedo?"

"Think of the children, Conner." Tim shighed with a laugh.

"Well I need something."

"Kevlar is nice, get them to make you jeans or something." Gar suggested, running his hand over Rachel's spine.

"This is stupid!" Conner frowned as he rolled over taking the joint from Tim. "Why do we even need costumes?"

"We have been over this." Tim reminded him. "Identifies, protection-"

"Sex appeal." Gar laughed.

"Sex appeal." Tim agreed, as Rachel laughed into his chest.

"Nightwing's ass inspires us all." She choked out.

The boys laughed, falling into each other as Gar cuddled Rachel, and Conner hugged Tim.

"Oh gods." Tim giggled. "Please wear a cape."

"Yes for the children's sake." Gar laughed.

"Ugh." Conner groaned into Tims shoulder.

"This is why my mom made mine." Gar started another joint. "Touch thinking is involved. I got to choose the colours that was enough."

"That's all your sweet little mind could handle." Rachel teased.

"Damn right, Mistress." Gar kissed her softly on her bare shoulder, as he lay into the pile.

A cough caught them off guard, as the group turned frightened that they had been found.

"You four know, I am home right?"

Bruce Wayne standing with his hands behind his back, as the four teens scrabble to stand. Tim just tripped over his feet, pulling Rachel down laughing as Gar and Conner stood.

"Pot?" Bruce looked at them, ignoring the giggling mess on the ground.

"You want some?" Gar smiled, passing his joint.

"Did you just offer Batman pot?" Tim gasped in fear. The group of teens watched as Bruce took the offered joint while taking a smoke.

"I was a teenager once too." Bruce told them. "Don't make this a habit, today is your night off, enjoy it."

#rachel roth #beast boy x raven #garfield logan #raven dc #dc titans #beast boy #teen titans #conner kent #timkon #tim drake #bruce wayne

[deenoss]

Dreamcatcher Chptr. 6

From: SHE-DEVIL Yo yo bro!

From: SHE-DEVIL Still goin to the show 2nite with Rachel Amber?

To: SHE-DEVIL Not that it's any of your business, but yes.

From: SHE-DEVIL HA HA! Oh my God you are so pathetic.

To: SHE-DEVIL Excuse me?

From: SHE-DEVIL You must be pretty into her to be wanting to go to a Firewalk show.

From: SHE-DEVIL I mean, you never even heard of Firewalk up until yesterday.

To: SHE-DEVIL So what?

From: SHE-DEVIL Don't forget to bring protection!

To: SHE-DEVIL Shut up, Chloe.

Clark sighed and tucked his phone away after putting on some music to suit the mood of him walking to Rachel Amber's house.

It still astounded Clark that he impressed the most popular girl at school, even getting as far as acquiring her phone number, home address and her trust; something that many could not achieve, let alone anybody she'd been in a relationship with. This was different for Clark seeing as how he never got involved romantically with someone. He was excited but also very nervous about whether Rachel was simply toying with his feelings or with intent to get romantically involved with him.

Either way, Clark was very scared.

In the early hours of that Wednesday evening, Clark idled in his dorm room at Blackwell Academy, allowing time to fly by. There as practically no effort that Clark put in to dressing up for going out to the Firewalk show at the mill but eventually it occurred to him that he ought to put in an effort if he was going there with Rachel Amber.

With a limited variety of clothes to choose from, Clark had no clue in regards to dressing up punk rock-ish. He had a general idea of how to dress up - black clothing and studded bracelets - so Clark just had to hope it was applicable once he met up with Rachel at her place.

After some time, Clark left the campus grounds and made his way towards Rachel's home address while the sun was still out but approaching sunset. Even if the security guard caught Clark, it wouldn't stop him from getting to the mill. While listening to his music, Clark lost focus on where he walked, but it was rather quiet out during that time of the day which didn't warrant his carelessness.

Darkness loomed over Arcadia Bay in addition to the clouds that hung overhead. Even if the weather report didn't announce wet weather, it never looked good in Arcadia Bay.

It was already beginning to darken outside when Clark reached the Amber residence. As he approached the driveway, he noticed a sign out front promoting Rachel's father to be entrusted and elected as District Attorney. Clark walked up the driveway to the front door.

Before he felt ready to call for Rachel, he made himself look tidy despite the attire he wore when Clark heard faint whispering.

"Psst! Hey, Clark! Over here!" A voice murmured from around the corner.

Whipping his head around in the direction of the voice, Clark squinted his eyes to make out the face the voice belonged to.

"Rachel?" Clark mumbled as he pulled out an earbud.

The brunette ran up to him and smiled as she gave a twirl. "Hey! Decent getup. So... you ready? How do I look?"

Rachel's attire put in far more work into dressing up for the concert. She wore what Clark would expect as punk-styled clothing where being compared beside her, he failed tremendously.

Speechlessly, he was unable to register any words in his mind as all that came out of his mouth were stutters and faint mumbles. By taking his hand, Rachel tugged on his arm, ushering him to follow her so they could get started on making their way to the old mill.

"Mind if I have a listen?" Rachel asked impatiently.

The music Clark listened to in solitary was quickly distributed to his female companion. Before she took it, he cleaned it with his shirt and handed it to her so she could stick it comfortably in her ear. As soon as the music reached her ear, Rachel was hooked.

"Hey. I didn't know you liked Local Natives. Damn, Clark. You gotta show me your music list." Rachel complimented. "I promise not to get nosy and look at all of your private stuff."

"Pinky promise?" Clark grinned goofily.

The brunette rolled her eyes and linked their pinkies together. She reached her hand out, taking ahold of his phone after he unlocked it to let her scroll through his music list. He even watched her as she did so to ensure she didn't do anything suspicious but after a few minutes he was pleased to see that she kept her word. Handing the phone back, Clark stuffed it in his pocket as the earphone wire stretched as they kept a small distance apart.

A gentle breeze blew past as Clark and Rachel wandered along the train tracks on their way to the old mill. Even from far away, they could hear the music already playing. This got Rachel hyped up as she grabbed Clark's hand and forced him to tarry along towards the mill. Muffled rock music and high-pitched cicada's buzzing kept out the dreary silence when Clark and Rachel arrived at the old mill. There were multiple bikes, cars and a caravan parked out the side of the mill where a bouncer was stationed to ensure all visitors were seen by him and checked for proper identification in order to enter the mill.

Before she forgot, Rachel handed Clark his ID as they approached the bouncer.

"Help you, fellas?" The bouncer spoke with a gentle voice as he unfolded his arms.

"Just here to see a killer show, dude," said Rachel as she handed him her ID. "You seem a bit lonely out here. You sure you're not cold? It's like, negative twenty degrees out here."

"I'm doing just fine, miss. You're fine to head inside. How 'bout you, boss? ID?"

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Clark handed him his ID and waited anxiously to see whether Rachel was able to get him inside. The bouncer nodded his head in satisfaction and handed him his ID back before giving them a kind regard as he stood aside in order to let them enter the establishment.

Once they were inside, loud heavy rock music hit them in an instant which caused Rachel to be exhilarated to see her favourite band play live.

"Yes! We're in!" Rachel cheered.

The two were distracted by the interior of the mill which had been renovated into a concert appearance with a bar on the other side of a wall that also provided an upper view of the stage. Without paying attention, the pair were startled by a dog barking at them before its owner had to call it over and stop frightening visitors.

Neither realised how close Rachel was against Clark when he realised how breached his personal bubble was: she was clinging onto his entire arm and she didn't let go until they started to walk past people who were missing out on the show.

To the right, a man leaned against the rear bumper of his car where the hood was popped open to reveal Firewalk shirts and his own personal belongings.

"Hey, look. That guy selling merch?" Clark questioned with a calm voice but only loud enough so that Rachel could hear him but not others around them.

Rachel gawked in the direction he was looking and nodded her head as she emptied her pockets. "Got spare cash? I might be short a few bucks."

"Yeah, yeah. I got some."

"Thanks Clark. I owe you big time."

Casually, the brown-haired boy strolled over to the guy selling the merchandise and inquired about the price per shirt.

"Twenty bucks," replied the merchant immediately.

"I'll give you forty for two."

"Deal."

He gave Clark a faint nod and allowed him to take two shirts that he paid for. Appreciatively, Rachel took a shirt and stuffed it comfortably in her pants when something caught her eye.

Gently, Rachel nudged Clark in his side and said, "Hey, you go on ahead. I'm gonna go say hi to a friend."

Clark nodded back at her and proceeded to make his way towards the stage. A new issue arose, which was the fact that there were plenty of fans about making his way difficult to get through. Those who were jumping in thrill of the hard music playing live for their benefit, someone whom Clark tried to squeeze past hit him square in the chest with his shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards into somebody who was also going to try and rejoin the crowd.

To Clark's dismay, he accidentally bumped somebody holding a full bottle of beer that drenched his tank top with a red capital A in a red circle. The guy yelped as he and his friend stared daggers at the guy who spilt his drink. Simply by looking like a punk with his tattoos and piercings intimidated Clark enough even if he made a feeble attempt at apologising.

"Hey, you okay?" The stranger asked randomly, sounding genuinely cool and calm.

"Shit. I'm sorry, man. I didn't see you there. I was just trying to get to the show." Clark apologised profusely. "Here. Lemme buy you another drink."

Just when Clark searched his pocket for extra cash, his heart dropped in his chest upon realising that providing the stranger a new beer was infertile.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Don't care, if I'm being honest. Look, can we just let bygones be bygones?"

Clark was so frightened that he scampered away until he ran into Rachel, metaphorically. The brunette looked at him worryingly as she had to hold him by his arms in order to keep him still.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Rachel asked reassuringly.

As casually as he could, Clark took deep breaths and explained what ailed him. Fortunately, Rachel was easily able to calm him down before she took his hand once more and lead him through the crowd as he intended.

The two danced joyously to the rock music Clark had found a peculiar interest in as people around them also grooved in every way they could and knew how; some of whom barely even knew how to rock out and simply looked like spastics on the dance floor. Rachel and Clark thrashed on the spot, having a wonderful time at the concert when Clark felt off about something.

Craning his head around, Clark noticed a pair of legs dangling from the balcony. Clark could recognise those shoes and those ripped jeans anywhere. What made things more concerning was when he spotted the two men who he bumped into just moments ago there to harass his sister.

He wasn't the only one to notice this. Rachel caught on and decided to help Chloe before anything bad could happen. The pair abandoned their spots and rushed upstairs to assist Chloe when they interrupted the two thugs before they could lay a hand on Clark's sister.

"... unimpressed I am with limp dick assholes who get butthurt over a spilled beer." Chloe insulted the taller thug.

His friend laughed mockingly and shook his head between his mate and Chloe. "I think she's calling us out, dude."

"She's going to forget every word. Every. Word," said the man with the tattoos. "I'm gonna teach this punk some manners."

By smashing the bottle in his hand, the tattoo guy pointed the shard at Chloe's stomach until there was an intervention.

"Hey! Dickhead!" Clark boomed irately at the two men.

The two men turned around to look at who interrupted them when they recognised Clark from before. Rachel stood behind Clark while he had his attention fully on the two thugs and his sister.

"You again!?"

"Leave her alone."

Relief was written across Chloe's face upon seeing her brother come to her rescue. It was very rare for her to be happy to see her brother; that point in time showed to be where Chloe would change her attitude towards him.

"Make me, squirt."

Clark clenched his fists in rage for how the two thugs were ganging up on his sister. While didn't appear that either cared about each other, deep down Clark felt it was his duty to do everything in his power to protect his sister and his mother. So witnessing Chloe getting harassed by two thugs at a concert was something he was not going to allow, especially if it was two to one.

"Go fuck yourself! Pick on someone your own size!" Clark snapped.

Suddenly, Clark scrambled to find something to use as a weapon when he found a bottle and threw it at one of the thugs. The bottle hit the head of the one with the tattoos, causing him to fall over from the impact. Once one was disoriented and the other too busy helping his mate up to his feet, Chloe ran towards her brother and his friend downstairs, heading immediately to the mosh pit.

Chloe couldn't help herself but watch the two men pursue them until they were intercepted by somebody both Rachel and Chloe knew. He prevented them from chasing after them, to which he managed to dismiss them from chasing the trio.

Rachel blew a kiss his way and Chloe stuck her middle finger out, not to their accomplice but to the two thugs when they rejoined the party for the last time.

Hours came to pass since they arrived at the concert. By the time they decided to call it a night, it was well past midnight. It was already bad enough for Chloe that she snuck out of the house to go to the concert, but being a disobedient child, she didn't have much to worry about.

By the time they were ready to leave, Rachel spoke, bringing the attention of the Price twins onto her. "Alright guys. As much as I would love for this night to never stop, I gotta get going. So we'll see each other tomorrow afternoon, right Clark?"

Clark squinted his eyes and thought hard about what class they were going to see each other in the next day.

"I... think it's... chemistry?" Clark replied with a hoarse voice from all of the screaming and carousing. "You going... to be... alright getting home by... by yourself?"

His concern was deeply appreciated by the girl with beeline honey brown hair. Rachel batted her eyelashes at him and touched his cheek to place a little kiss on the other.

"See you guys tomorrow," said Rachel as she took off.

Clark was lovestruck by the kind gesture, all the while his sister couldn't help but laugh at his reaction to him being kissed on the cheek. Gently, Chloe nudged her brother in his side, snapping him out of his daydreams.

"C'mon. Let's go home, bro." Chloe requested and wrapped her arm across his back.

For the first time in a long time, Clark accepted the love and hugged his sister as they made their way home.

#rachel amber #life is strange #chloe price #concert

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Let's Talk A Bit About Tokyo 24th Ward (5)

Oh thank whatever god exists it's the last one. I've enjoyed this, but holy hell has it been a process.

Expectations And Human Limits:

This is more in the point of expectations of self, not expectations of others. We see through the anime that Koki and Shuta have very high expectations of themselves, and this sometimes makes them push themselves beyond their limits. Yes, I've talked about this in other topics, but that's because it's a big part of the anime. Shuta pushes himself so much because he feels responsible, and he has a hard time letting go of what happened. He found a way to grief, an unhealthy way, and he stuck with it for so long. Koki also found an unhealthy way to grief, and he also stuck with it for so long. I'd talk about Ran for this, but this doesn't really effect him as much as the others.

Privacy:

This goes along with the other government topics and tech advancements. With how the cPhones are being updated and the KANAE system being put to full use, privacy is a huge problem within the 24th Ward. There's more cameras, there's more SARG, cPhones collect bio data and location data and data on pretty much anything you do. It's said that this is important for safety, and Koki agrees with this, tying into the differing opinions and ideals post, while Shuta is less convinced and Ran outright doesn't like it. There are people that want to be more free and have less surveillance. Tokyo 24th Ward shows both sides to this argument, and the anime doesn't really choose a side until the later episodes when the privacy infringement really gets bad. For most of these topics, the anime stays relatively in the middle, like Shuta, until one side goes too far.

Humal Life Importance:

This is mainly talking about the AI employment of the KANAE system and how it works. The KANAE system basically chooses which life should be saved and which life should be sacrificed. If you take this idea apart and really think about it, it does have a good side, even if it does break common ethical laws. I'm not going to argue either side, but I wanted to point that out for the fact that Tokyo 24th Ward is remarkably good at staying as a middle ground. As stated before, it doesn't choose sides unless one gets too large. It shows both sides of an argument and allows the watcher to choose for themselves. A good example of this would be for what happened to Kunai. Was it a good idea? Was it bad? You got to see both sides of the argument as well as who it was affecting. You were acquainted with both parties and you learned what they were like. Which side did you choose, though, is the question.

Escapism With Art And Effects Of Riots:

Can you tell I just combined these two? Yeah. Anyway. Ran follows this trend where when something bad happens, he deals with it, yes, but he also tends to try and block out what happens through his art. He channels his emotions and depicts what happened through his own style to try and deal with it. This is his coping mechanism. However, it leads to downsides where he's easily swayed by people he trusts because he can't fully grasp his emotions. I know some people won't agree with me on that, but that's just what I see. Ran eventually, with the guidance of 0th, leads people to riot. However, as much as he's trying to help, he's hurting them more than anything. He's making them lose trust in something that is supposed to protect them. He makes them want to tear it down instead of fix it. He leads people to feel anxious and scared, and this can cause tension between people, including family members, and hurt them in the long run. That's not even mentioning the fact that it puts the KANAE system through so much strain and makes Asumi's nightmares worse.

Overall, Tokyo 24th Ward is a good anime because it can portray both sides of an argument while staying as a relative medium.

It also allows the watcher to choose who they side with.

The law abiding Koki who believes SARG is doing the right thing and that Asumi should be put to eternal sleep, and also believes that tighter security is a must.

The rebellious Ran who believes SARG and the KANAE system are the problem and that Asumi she be "killed," and also believes that the security is currently too strict.

Or the indecisive Shuta who wants to help everyone and keep everything in order and believes there's truly no sides and thinks that it's too selfish to choose Asumi's future.

You could be a mix of these characters. or you could follow just one.

In a later post, I'm going to post a link to a personality quiz to show who you are closer in ideals to.

Because why not.

I did not grammar check this as I did not want to reread it all.

#tokyo 24th ward #anime #topics

[anxiousandoutdoorsy]

Oh my god thanks lol! And now that u say it- yess! It does become a lot like Nezuko and Tanjiro's relationship right?! Then again with Izuku there is more of a desire wanting to save people, and fighting is one of the tools to achieve it.

No!!! But Imagine- Yorichii initially not knowing what to make of Izuku- being so scared to get into brother dynamics again- or getting close to PPL. Him following the og tactic of acting deaf and mute, and pretty much dissociating from reality.- him contemplating why he was born, slayer mark and all and seeing its existence like a shackle or a curse, then him just picking up something fishy about their father (DFO or not) and taking to sticking close to Izuku, and getting to know his brother- initially like oh he reminds me of Sumiyoshi, Uta, Michikatsu etc.

But then him seeing Izuku stand up to Katsuki for him- saying he won't be friends with someone who is mean to his brother? And breaking off the only friendship he has among his peers (out of everyone's view- bcs Izuku doesn't like to do drama and wanted to understand why Katsuki would do something like that?) - and seeing Izuku for himself.

Him admiring Izuku's kindness, intelligence, his soul, mind, just how full of life and compassion he is. PPL may call Yoriichi the sun, but he feels Izuku is the true sun out of the two of them. He is the light he looks for when he feels lost.

I hc quirks would come at a reasonable age here like between 7-10 (instead of 4-9) (ofc there are tragic exceptions like tenko, eri, mic). So plenty of time for kids to not worry about having to fit into a mold or whatever. And explore themselves.

So like Izuku is highly attuned to Yorichii, but it's not like he can read his thoughts lmao. And Yorichii knowing deep in his heart that he wants this bond, but fearing it would be too selfish and universe might just rip it away again- trying to suppress everything about him- but Izuku seeing thru it anyway, sort off... Like i know u are hiding something, but I'll be waiting and ready if u wish to tell me. So like Yorichii knows he can tell Izuku about the reincarnation thing...

So he thinks he will stay away, but immediately contradicts himself saying - 'Yorichii'. My name isn't Mikumo it's Yoriichi.' and Izuku brightening up for so many reasons but out of all the things he wants to spit out he chooses- 'it suits you way more!'

Like Izuku knowing in the house they always do things he likes, so dragging Yoriichi outside to figure out his interests and likes- and oh Yoriichi you like visiting Shinto shrines and camping huh? (Izuku noting his brother always gets things on the first try, while he struggles. Izuku still learning obscure things to show them to Yoriichi and see if his brother likes them. Like sign language, constellation names, best view spots, names of birds, things which Yoriichi avoides- to make sure they are not present during a bonding activity)

Yoriichi having nights where he just can't sleep. When memories are too much, and him just stumbling to Izuku's door but not entering. When Izuku learns this he tells him it's okay to come in, and when he doesn't, starts keeping his door open. When that also doesn't work- he gives him his AM plushie and then at night before Yorichii can get up Izuku stumble to his room and collapse on his bed saying loudly that he is afraid of thunder and wants to sleep with Yoriichi (that's a lie Izuku laughs when it thunders, and nothing scares him he is a horror nerd).

Izuku being so attuned to Yorichii, him being able to tell when his brother is awake bcs of a nightmare- not because Yorichi's breath stuttered, he just knows.

And when quirks do come in- both Yoriichi and Izuku are quirkless biologically. But Yoriichi still has his breathing forms ofc. Not that he lets anyone know that. And then he goes and uses his strength to protect his brother against Katsuki.

And well All of Katsuki's energy is consumed on hating Yoriichi. Like the guy is looking down on me, but most importantly he also stole my best friend.

And of course Izuku knowing there is something majorly off about Yoriichi, but knowing he doesn't have to understand him to keep on loving him. But also Yoriichi accepting his bond with Izuku and going all like an attention starved cat on him. But being scared of losing his brother like he lost Michikatsu

I don't know about inko lol. I pity her, and i honestly don't know if she will be able to withstand the pressure of if she will crumble like a wet paper towel.

to i absolutely LOVE this as soon as i get my lazy ass to finish part 6 of Sunlight you already KNOW i’m going off w this🫶

[haitanizzz]

hello since you guys are a new blog i wanted to request. Can i have separate headcanons of mikey, the kawata twins, baji and mitsuya with a male s/o who takes the dominant role in the relationship. Hes also a really badass fighter and has a really scary reputation thats makes people afraid of him but is really chill and more like a himbo.

omg tysm for requesting!! we did our best since this is our first request, we hope you like it♡

characters: mikey, souya, mitsuya, nahoya, baji x male reader (2nd pov)

cw: slight violence, pure fluff tbh, spelling errors

L: mikey, souya, mitsuya

F: nahoya, baji

mikey:

mikey would be the one who wants to be pampered by you all the time. always asking for piggy-back rides/asking you to carry him, basically clinging to you everytime he’s with you. you're basically the new draken once you start dating lmao he isn’t scared of pda at all so expect a lot of that too especially when you’re the one being intimate in public. he’s not the type to get embarrassed easily but when it’s with you..oh boy..just grab his wrist and pull him into a hug and he’s already red as hell (the others will tease him if they see you especially draken and baji). he likes how intimidating you're to other people but also gets jealous when you get way too much attention lol if anyone looks at mikey in a bad way you just glare at them and they're already walking away in fear. loves it when you take him out to eat to your fav place and actually falls asleep on you. everyone in the gang who doesn't know you is actually really scared of you but it changes once you brought food to a meeting. (everyone loved it)

he thinks you're really cool when you fight and actually looks up to you in a way. when he sees you fighting it gives him so much energy that he's next to you in a second throwing punches as well. he loves it when after a fight with another gang you're all over him checking him for any injuries and taking care of him if he got hurt. (he deserves all the love tbh:(<3) he will fake being hurt just to be carried.

souya:

i think he's a very shy person when he's with you especially at the beginning of your relationship. the same as mikey, he's the youngest sibling and he loves to be pampered but doesn't really show it. grab his hand in public and he's gonna be a shy blabbering mess, he doesn't know where to look or what to say he's so embarrassed😭 nahoya will make fun of him if he catches you two and souya's face gets even more red if that's possible and since he's too shy to hold hands he just follows you around like a puppy or just holds your pinkie. your reputation comes in handy since i feel like he's not really a social person and hates being at the center of attention, so people usually stay away from you.

he absolutely adores how strong you're and thinks you're amazing and would love to have you teach him some moves! secretly loves it but pretends to be annoyed when you just show up at his house and take him for a ride not taking no as an answer. hug him from behind when you're in private and he will melt.

mitsuya:

now for the love of god please take this boy to your house at the weekends for a day long cuddling session cuz he needs. a. break. don't get me wrong he loves his sisters more than anything but he really needs someone to look after him too. (and that's why you're here) loves to go shopping with you for fabrics and going out to eat to a nearby restaurant that you choose everytime. not gonna lie he was scared shitless when he first met you but that image of you quickly shattered when you used a corny pick-up line on him when he bumped into you and yeah you've been dating ever since lmao the first time he took you home his sisters were hiding at his legs and the next second you showed them the stuffed toys you bought them they were all over you. luna and mana loves you sm tbh you always bring them candy (without mitsuya knowing ofc) and they just love the headpats you give them. once he was in the kitchen preparing dinner for you guys (you were sleeping over) and found you and his sisters on top of you sleeping on the floor, he took a polaroid of you and has it hanged up in his room.

he loves how you're more than capable of protecting yourself and actually wants you to teach him so he can get stronger. even though he knows you're strong he still worries but when you just flash him your stupid smile it all goes away. (he also blushed but looked away.)

nahoya:

i just know he would show you off to everyone. he's so proud of you and he wants everyone to know how amazing you are:( also i feel like he would use you to treathen people?? "do you have any idea who my boyfriend is? don't make me tell him to-" you would have to cover his mouth in embrassement and apologize to the poor guy who accidentally bumped into smiley and made him fall. i like to imagine that he's clingy as hell, especially when you're around others. you can't get him off of you because he constantly wants to hold your hands, ask for headpats maybe even climb on your back and clinge to you like a koala. (please do give him headpats he will melt on the spot). he just wants to show off his love for you to the others:(

his poor brother was literally shitting his pants when you first joined the gang, meanwhile nahoya was basically all over you, asking things like "where did you learn to fight?","can you teach me some moves??", basically smiley being the social butterfly he is.

he's overall so so proud of you and looks up at you so much. he loves how you're independent and that you can protect yourself and others, it makes him feel at ease!

baji:

to be honest he didn't like you at the start when he met you. he imagined you as a person full of himself because he's stronger than others. he was really avoidant of you, maybe even suspicious that you want something from the gang. but when he saw you play with some kittens at his usual spot where he was feeding the stray cats?? oh boy that man literally fell in love with you, he just didn't want to admit it yet. from that day you two would usually go and hang out around that spot, just talking about meaninlgess things and playing with the kittens. and when you planned a cat cafe date with him as your first one, he never thought he can fall even harder for you.

i like to imagine that when baji does something stupid the gang is calling you immediately, half of them already has your number saved just in case 💀. he hates to admit it but he loves pda, he's just too shy to ask for it and likes to play the though guy. but when you take his hand in your's around the others?? he would be a stuttering and blushing mess.

he thinks you're the coolest person he ever met, even if he had his doubts in the beginning. you're like his role model, he always tells you how you take out the best of him. i feel like he has a hard time showing his emotions, but he loves you and is really proud of you!:)

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo rev x male reader #x male reader #mikey x reader #mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #souya x reader #souya x male reader #kawata souya x reader #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x male reader #mitsuya takashi x male reader #nahoya x reader #nahoya x male reader #kawata nahoya x reader #kawata nahoya x male reader #baji x reader #baji x male reader #baji keisuke x reader

[helliontherapscallion]

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: [phone], my DMs are always open if you want to talk 

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you. 

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that. 

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and  his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that. 

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms. 

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms. 

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again. 

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you. 

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-” 

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner. 

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly. 

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often. 

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent. 

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit. 

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life. 

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room. 

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother. 

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self. 

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure. 

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night. 

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder. 

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly. 

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore. 

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home. 

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged. 

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal. 

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore. 

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest. 

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom. 

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand. 

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him. 

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit. 

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you. 

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?” 

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form. 

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince. 

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder. 

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying. 

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you. 

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there. 

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it. 

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?” 

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial. 

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes. 

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true  and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be. 

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil. 

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.” 

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft. 

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light. 

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them. 

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously. 

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch. 

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.” 

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most. 

General taglist:

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tubbo x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #teenage reader #platonic #tw: abuse #tw: neglect #tw: swearing #tw: alcoholism #tw: bullying #tw: animal death #tw: death of a parent #tw: panic attack #tw: injury #tw: blood #tw: burns #tw: suicide attempt #tw: self harm #tw: depression

[vampireloverz]

when is a monster not a monster? oh, when you love it.

pairing: fire demon! enji todoroki x fem! reader

words: 12.4k

cw/tw: exophilia/teratophilia, size difference, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, mentions of human sacrifices, mentions of demonic transformation, mentions of death/dying, kidnapping, strangers to lovers

a/n: this is for the creature feature collab! please check out all the other fics 🤍

“This is a blessing.”

“I know, mama.”

“You’re very lucky to serve your village like this.”

“I know, papa.”

Through all the praise and reassurance, your parents never once tell you they’ll miss you, that they wish someone else had been chosen, and they can never seem to look you in the eye for long. You know they love you, you know but… you also know that you’re already dead to them.

You have one week with your family, your friends, and the rest of the village. One week before the summer solstice. One week before you’re sacrificed. 

There’s something that protects your little village. A demon, a spirit, a god— a protector with many names, many forms. Most call him Endeavor, others are too scared to even speak his name.

Growing up, you knew being chosen was a possibility.

Every ten years he takes an offering, a sacrifice. 

The story goes that, one hundred years ago, there was a pact, an agreement. Something in exchange for his protection, something to keep him from letting raiders, or even himself, destroy your town. Somehow, somewhere down the line, the oblation became a maiden. Endeavor singles them out and no one, not even the elders know why.

There are constants in his choices. She’s always beautiful, often young but always of age. The youngest he’d ever chosen was twenty.

You remember her.

You’d watched, barely thirteen and clinging to your mother’s skirts as Rei walked through the town, saying her goodbyes. She was smiling. It was soft, demure, but it was there, tugging at her lips.

You can’t remember why but you’d cried. Maybe it was something about the way her white hair caught the light, something about the way your mother stroked your head gently, something about the way that even you could tell this was inevitable. There’s nothing to do but watch.

“There’s nothing to fear,” she’d whispered as she’d knelt in front of you, noticing your tears. She cupped your face in her soft hands, motherly even at a young age, “I’ll be alright.”

You never thought you’d be in her place.

He wouldn’t want you, you thought, you’re too plain, so you had nothing to fear. You insist that there’s nothing extraordinary about you, not your looks or your skills, even though your friends insist otherwise. It'll be your friend Nemuri for sure, that’s who he’ll choose, she’s too captivating to pass up. Maybe even Yu, she’s younger, also a beauty to behold. A handful of other names pass through your thoughts as potential candidates for Endeavor’s selection, but never your own.

Until, despite the odds, it’s your name that is called out. Publicly announced at the decennial meeting in town hall, to announce who has been selected to be the next offering.

Nemuri doesn’t cry for you, not at that moment. She just clings to you, wrapping her arms around your trembling shoulders and pulling you to her chest while you clasp your hands over your mouth. Your mother on your other side grips your knee, her force almost bruising as she tries to keep her composure. Your father simply walks out, no one stops him. No one jeers or weeps or asks if the elders are sure.

Everyone knows that once he’s made his choice, there is nothing to be done. Nothing but offer the girl up at the right time and wait. Nothing to do but watch. Inevitable.

Your friends touch you as they pass you on their way out. Hizashi and Oboro duck down to kiss your forehead at the same time, the three of you laugh when their heads bump together. Shouta offers you a smile and squeezes your shoulder before he follows the boys out. Nemuri hugs your head as you press your face into her stomach, when she pulls away you see her eyes shining and glossy with unshed tears. It’s not goodbye, not yet, but you know it’s the beginning of the end.

Sekijiro is the only one who protests. He’s not your friend, not by a long shot, but he still feels the need to say something. He has the sense to do it privately, only speaking up once everyone but you and your mother are gone.

“I’ll fight him!” he roars, the vein in his temple bulging while he paces. He stops, whirling to face your mother and pointing an accusatory finger at her as he shouts, “You promised her hand in marriage to me!”

You’re not surprised by this, you’d know your parents have been talking about marrying you off for months, you’re not even surprised that they’d chosen him of all people. He’s rude, boisterous, always drunk; but he’s rich. Well, as rich as you can get in a quiet village like yours.

“No,” you say simply, suddenly all the shock has drained from your body and only left you with a sense of purpose, of knowing. You’d rather die serving your people than be his wife. You actually feel glad, relieved. You don’t move as he comes to kneel before you, instantly switching his demeanor from furious to docile as he grabs your hands off your lap, “I’ve been chosen. I’ll do my duty.”

He squeezes your limp hands tighter, when he opens his mouth to reply you cringe backwards, reeling from the scent of stale ale, “Don’t you want to stay with me? With your village?”

“Sekijiro, even if I wanted to be with you, we both know I can’t. I’ve been chosen,” you repeat, exasperated.

He scowls, standing and all but throwing your hands back onto your lap. There goes that vein again, working overtime as he tries to formulate a response. When he finds that he can’t, he storms out of the building, leaving you and your mother in the quiet of the town hall.

✰ ✰ ✰

You walk alone, letting your hands stretch out to your sides as you meander to the sacrificial spot. Your fingers brush against the ears of corn and stray strands of silk tickle your palms as you pass, your bare feet squish into the soft soil, the hem of your white slip grazing your ankles.

You wonder if Rei felt like you do now; strangely calm, detached, only a bit of fear prickling up your spine and grasping at your throat. Calm until your chest constricts painfully, thinking of all the awful ways you could die.

You stop in your tracks, shaking your head as you bury your face in your palms. Death doesn’t scare you, not really. It’s just nothingness, why should you be afraid of that? But pain… that terrifies you.

There’s no use thinking about things that will rile you up so you keep moving, doubling your pace as if you could outrun your thoughts. 

The soil of the fields gives way to grass, separated by a short stone barrier so the planned burn doesn’t extend into the forest. You grasp your skirt and lift the fabric to hop over it, blades of grass reach up and tickle your ankles when you land. 

The altar is only a few steps away, you take them slowly. 

You drop your skirt as you take your first step. You think of your family, your parents’ reluctant pride, the way they could barely manage a smile as you walked out the door. You wonder if they’ll hire help to take over the chores and tasks you’ll no longer be around to do.

The last couple steps before the wooden platform, you think of your friends. At least you’re not leaving them alone. They’ll be together, Nemuri, Shouta, Hizashi, and Oboro. The four of them can take care of each other, that small comfort makes you smile. A bittersweet ache building in your chest, you miss them already.

You stride onto the platform, taking a look at the field in front of you as you tuck your dress behind your knees and kneel.

The sun is starting to dip low in the sky, bathing everything in honeyed yellow light, making everything seem too beautiful for what is going to take place. 

You stay there, waiting, until you hear faint, thumping footsteps. Birds fly out of the trees in flocks and you can sense the wildlife in the forest scatter and run. You thought you’d resigned yourself to your fate, but now, actually sitting in your white cotton frock as he comes near, you’re not sure you want to die.

You see the smoke before you feel the heat.

Thick, black and grey, billowing up into the sky as he burns the fields and makes his way to you. At the first small peek at him towering above the crops, you shut your eyes tight, not daring to fully look at a demon in the flesh. Instead, you listen to his approach. Step after thunderous step he takes towards you, accented by the crackle and pop of the crops around him being burned to the ground.

You clasp your hands to your chest and you mutter furtive prayers under your breath; wishing for a swift and painless death, begging to see paradise in the afterlife instead of the hellfire you face now. 

You’ve never felt heat like this before, not even on the hottest summers here. Sweat pours from your forehead, trickling down and clinging to your lashes, slipping past your shut lids and stinging your eyes. You blink furiously, bowing your head as you keep quietly muttering.

For a long while, you sit there, kneeling and listening to the blaze as he stands just outside of your view. You can hear him breathe, the sound is a deep and inhuman thing, maybe it isn’t breathing at all. What he’s waiting for, you don’t know.

Your heart stops when he grabs you, one hand wrapping around your waist like you’re a child’s toy. Your eyes snap open as you’re hoisted in the air, that’s when you see his face. Your scream turns to ash in your throat, like he himself burned it away with just one look.

You’re burning, you have to be, you thought the heat was bad before but it’s nothing compared to the scorching temperature of being in his grip, near his body. You’re going to die. Really, truly going to die at the hands of a demon. You manage to get a good look at his eyes— pitch black in a sea of orange and crimson flames— before you lose consciousness. 

✰ ✰ ✰

You wake up. You still feel close to death— overheated, soaked in sweat, dizzy. Your pulse is weak, thready, but you’re alive. You can’t move much, the stress has sapped your body of all your energy. It’s all you can do to pry your eyes open to look at your surroundings.

The first thing you notice is him. 

He smells like a dying bonfire; smoldering, not quite burning anymore, but the heat remains. It lingers in the crisp night air, smothering you so strongly you can almost taste the warmth of him on your tongue.

Watching him reminds you of wood burning in the fireplace. How the inside glows ruby and gold and amber while the outside stays dark and blackened. Endeavor’s body does just that, his skin glows in time with each breath; brightening and dimming, pulsing, breathing light.

You watch, somehow both mesmerized and frightened, until his rumbling breaths lull you to sleep.

He’s still in the same spot when you wake up, rumbling and glowing across the room. This time your body and mind are more alert, you’re able to sit up. You feel your joints creak as you stretch out your limbs. You’re surprised to find yourself in a bed instead of in a cave somewhere in the mountains, less surprised that you’re alive at all though. 

You get up as quietly as you can, peeling the sheets away from your body at a snail’s pace. Your bare feet touch the stone and you hold your breath, keeping your eyes trained on the sleeping demon as you try to slink out of the room without being noticed. You curse when your knee knocks against the table in the dark, rousing Endeavor from his slumber.

As he rises, his chesty growl fills the room, making terror flood through your veins. His light brightens, bouncing off the walls so you can finally see what he looks like.

His horns curl up and back from his forehead and brush against the high, vaulted ceiling as he stands at his full height. His body is black as night, fading into cherry red on his limbs and the tail that hangs down and swipes around his ankles. His turquoise eyes stand out, contrast so stark it startles you enough to leave your mouth hanging open.

His signature flames are nowhere to be found but heat still rolls off him and fills the room. You try to figure out a way to get past him, to fight him, but instead of hope there’s a deep pit of despair opening in your gut. You can escape or you can die trying.

“Let me go.”

Endeavor sighs, brows furrowing as his tail flicks about. He shakes his head and crouches down slightly, reaching one hand out to you like a peace offering.

You shout a short, clipped sound as you make a break for it, not even making it halfway down a long hallway he stops you. Your stomach hits his palm as he wraps his hand around, pulling another agonized scream out of you as he lifts you. You pound your fists to his arms and shoulders, kicking his thighs even as he holds you tighter. He easily carries you down the hall back to the room. No matter how much you kick and scream, he doesn’t flinch. You even try to bite him, trying to sink your teeth into the meat of his arm, but even that doesn’t change anything, you’re not going anywhere. All he does is growl quietly, opening his mouth ever so slightly. You see a flash of a tongue, molten orange and bright like hot glass against his sharp, brilliant white fangs.

Tears prick at your eyes as you scramble to be let go, even though you know it’s pointless your instincts still urge you to try. You truly feel like a feral animal, unwillingly caught and howling. Helpless. 

“Why haven’t you killed me?” you shriek, starting to sob into his chest. Your neck and face heat, both with frustration and his body being near, your voice coming out shrill and impassioned as you keep uselessly hitting your fists against him, “Just finish me off! Please!”

You don’t protest when he takes you down to the floor with him, still keeping you cradled to him as you heave deep, trembling breaths. He offers no answer, he just holds you.

It’s strange, being held and comforted by the creature causing your despair. You let yourself cry, for the first time since you’ve been spirited away, and you cling to him. Weeping tears into his neck that evaporate away after they just barely grace your cheeks. Brash, ugly sobs that eventually trickle down into muted, thick hiccups as you pass out in the demon’s arms.

✰ ✰ ✰

You blink yourself awake, it’s a slow process. Sleep still runs thick and honeyed in your veins, keeping you drowsy and sluggish as you rub your eyes, still puffy from your bout of crying the night before. The thin blankets around you are as cold. In fact, the whole place feels… empty. No lingering warmth, no sounds of a fire blazing. He’s not in the room, it doesn’t seem like he’s in the castle at all. It’s just you, alone.

This is your chance. That thought wakes you up, and an electric zing passes through your spine as your body finally catches up. You stand, kicking away the blankets at your feet as you wipe the last of your tiredness from your eyes. You rush to tug on clothes and shoes you find in a wardrobe, frantically throwing the door open and hurrying to the foyer.

This is your chance! He’s gone! Go. Run, flee, get out.

You just stand there, hands limp at your sides and your feet glued to the floor. You realize, faced with what may be your only opportunity, you have no plan. 

What if you don’t survive the trek home? What would you even say if you managed to find your way back? What if, what if, what if— too many questions, too many ways to die in the woods, too many potential failures for you to risk taking a step out. 

You stand there, stuck to the spot and staring at the sunlight streaming through the windows surrounding the door until he comes back, something bundled and tucked into the crook of one of his elbows.

He makes a gruff, rumbling sound like a greeting, filling the room with heat as he makes his way inside. You turn on your heel, scurrying up the stairs back to your room. Feeling his eyes on you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, sweat already prickling at your back. You shut the door behind you, leaning back into the wood with a heaving sigh. 

“Stupid,” you chastise yourself, pushing off the door to make your way to the connected room, assuming its a bathroom. You’re right, and you’re thankful the bathtub is full of water, you kneel and splash some on your cheeks. You sigh as you wash your face, smoothing your wet hands down your neck to get rid of the stickiness of sweat. 

You hear him knock at your door before he enters, not waiting for you to tell him it’s okay to come in. It irks you, even a demon should have some manners if he’s going to hold you captive.

You hear clattering on the stone so you leave your little oasis with one last splash of water to your face. You swipe the back of your forearm over your brows as you walk back into your room, taking in the scene of Endeavor setting up food on the table by the dresser.

Townsfolk often make offerings to him, your family was one of the more devout ones who gave weekly offerings. Simple enough things, fruits and bread, anything that no one would really miss. You figure that the food he brings you is from the offering altars at the outskirts of town, maybe even something your parents left.

You decide to sit even though you don’t want to eat, you want this limbo you’ve been put in to end. Everything seems too big, you feel like you’re in a dollhouse. You’re quiet as he pulls food out of a basket, the weave is familiar but you can’t tell which family it’s from. There’s bread and wine, even some soft cheeses and fruits, still fresh enough to be eaten. Your mouth waters but you push the food away, mumbling under your breath that you’re not hungry. You scowl up at him when he nudges it back towards you with one large finger.

“I don’t want—”

“Eat.”

Endeavor’s voice is full and deep, the solitary word like a burning ember to your ears. He doesn’t repeat himself as you blink up at him, dazed and stupid; he just huffs, pillars of steam leaving his nose before he turns away.

“You can talk!”

He turns back to you, aqua eyes searching your face as his brows furrow, “Did you think I could not?”

“Oh,” well, of course he can talk, how else would he have made a deal all those years ago? You sputter, “No, I… I don't know. Why wait until now to speak?”

Why? Why did he let you cry and shriek and beg yourself hoarse? 

“I had nothing to say.”

It’s your turn to look away now, face suddenly hot with anger. He had nothing to say about your rage and fear and sadness? Nothing to say about the way you cried and screamed and begged for mercy? Even for a demon, it strikes you as cruel. You don’t realize you’re crying until he kneels beside you and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. You sob as quietly as possible, too overwhelmed with emotion to even try to push him away. His hand comes up, the back of one huge knuckle grazing your cheek as you sniffle.

“I don't know what words would have comforted you,” your breaths come out in stuttering gasps as your tears sizzle and evaporate on his knuckles, “I… I know not how to speak kindly.”

“W–Well,” you huff, snapping your head to the side and taking greedy handfuls of bread, “If you’re to keep me here, you’d do well to learn!”

His eyes widen, you think the noise he makes is one of amusement, “As you wish, little one.”

“I have a name you know,” you mutter and blink the last of your tears away. You bark it at him, family name and all, just to be sure he remembers it.

“Yes,” he acknowledges simply, “I know. As do I.”

“Yes, yes. Endeavor: fearsome fire spirit, benevolent to those he lays claim to, he who is only second to All M—”

“That’s the name your people have given me, yes. I have another.”

You pause with a piece of cheese nestled in bread halfway to your lips, “Go on.”

He nods for you to eat, when you pop the food in your mouth and chew he continues, “Enji. You may call me that, if you’d like.”

“Enji,” you murmur, mouth half full.

Enji nods, satisfied, and murmurs your name right back. You chew thoughtfully as you watch him leave, ducking through the doorway.

✰ ✰ ✰

The two of you settle into a strange routine, of captor and captive. Enji leaves you be for the most part, but you want for nothing, he provides it all for you. Food, drink, clothes, even bedding softer than you’d had at home. You’re loath to admit it but this new life is… comfortable. You’ve resigned yourself to doing chores around the castle to keep busy and, even if you can’t see him, you can feel his presence follow you from chamber to chamber. 

You don’t find too much in the rooms you search, dusty books and weathered odds and ends, hardly anything of note.

It’s an old, small castle; hardly a castle and more like a fortress, a palace. Unattended and abandoned save for rebellious teenagers who dare each other to make the climb and the occasional traveller who wanders inside, only to flee, screaming and terrified, within a day or two. Endeavor doesn't actually sleep there since demons hardly have a place in the physical world but everyone knows that the mansion is his.

Your room is surprisingly spacious, even with the enormous canopy bed and various other furnishings there’s still plenty of space. When you nap or lounge in your room, Enji takes up that space. Keeping an eye on you, observing, but never speaking, not unless you say something first.

“Why’d you choose me?” you ask one afternoon when you catch his eye over the book you’re reading.

He crosses his arms over his chest, you swear you can see the corner of his lips tick up, “Whatever you’re reading can’t keep your interest?”

You scoff, turning over so your back is to him. Your eyes skim the words of the next page but you find that you’re not truly reading since another thought has crept into your mind. You take note of the page and shut the novel before you turn again. You fiddle with the frayed edges of the book as you swing your legs over the bed and face Enji.

“The other maidens you’ve chosen,” you try to keep your voice light and casual as you broach the subject, “What… what happened to them?”

“I don't eat them, if that’s what you’re asking,” his lips quirk up in a wry smile as you sigh and your shoulders visibly relax, you had half a mind to suspect that he was fattening you up.

“What did you do with the last woman?”

You’re surprised when his expression fizzles out, going from amused to solemn in the blink of an eye.

“Admittedly, I was… unkind to her,” his brows pinch together as he thinks about her. He shakes his head like he can’t bear the memories any longer, cinders fall from his head and turn to ash before they hit the ground, “I was cruel.”

“What’s so different about me then?”

“There’s a river, not far from here,” your face pinches sourly at the way he changes the subject, “I’ll take you to it, the current is gentle. You can take a bath.”

You decide not to press him for more details, taking a bath is suddenly all you can think about. You hop off the bed and scurry downstairs, not waiting for him as you yank open the heavy wooden doors to leave. You squint and flinch, one hand coming up to shield your eyes from the first bit of direct sunlight you’ve had in days. You stumble backwards into Enji’s stomach, one of his hands finds your waist to steady you.

Once your eyes adjust, you push his hand away, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Enji walks past you, not looking back as he lifts his hand and flicks his wrist forward to indicate that you should follow him. The trek down to the river is quick, it feels like the trees and shrubs themselves bend and part for you and Enji.

You run towards the riverbank the moment you see it and start to lift your blouse but you stop when you notice that his eyes are still fixed on you, “Aren’t you going to look away?”

He huffs, turning his head slightly just to appease you, “You’ve nothing I haven’t already seen.”

You roll your eyes, slipping out of your clothes to quickly wade into the deeper part of the river and submerge yourself. The temperature of the water is on the right side of cool, refreshing after spending days in sweltering heat. You keep your shoulders under the water so he can’t see you, but he keeps his eyes trained on you anyway.

You bathe under his watchful eye, tilting your head back and sighing as the crisp water soothes your scalp. You dip your head underwater, scrubbing your face with your palms before you resurface.

You blink the water out of your lashes, rubbing your fingertips over eyes before you open them. You look up, about to ask Enji if he can even touch water, but he’s not there. You spin around, water sloshing as you look for him. Anxiety creeps through your gut in the quiet, you rub your hands over your face again, hoping he’ll be there when you reopen your eyes.

“End— rather, Enji?” you call out cautiously, waiting a beat before you continue, “Enji, where’d you go?”

He reappears once you call for him, materializing from behind a tree too thin for him to hide behind, “I’m still here. I thought you wanted your privacy?”

“You scared me!” you hiss, your face heating in embarrassment at feeling so frightened.

He finds this amusing, slipping behind trees and reappearing elsewhere. You try to track him each time he leaves your view, slithering between the material world and ethereal, you attempt to guess which tree or boulder he’ll appear in front of next. Eventually he stops the little game, resting his body on a sun-warmed stone as he gestures for you to keep bathing.

“You can come here without me while it’s still warm, it's safe.”

You scoop some water up and scrub behind your ears as you turn to him, “Honest?”

Enji huffs and closes his eyes, leaning back and stretching his arms behind him to rest his head on his hands. You watch him heave a big sigh, steam billowing from his nose before he speaks, “What reason would I have to lie?”

You sink into the water again, just enough to cover the little frown that tugs at your lips. You blow immature air bubbles as you rub down the rest of your body in the running water. Once you deem yourself clean enough, as clean as you can be without soap anyway, you allow yourself some fun; swimming against the current, it’s gentle enough to offer some resistance but there’s no real struggle. 

You know he’s seen you naked before so you try to ignore the way you feel so exposed, but you keep taking occasional peeks behind you just to make sure he isn’t looking. After a few checks, you stop looking. You start to swim upstream, then you let the current slowly take you back as you float belly up, letting the water lap at your ears and the sun warm your skin. 

The water muffles the sounds of the forest, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of your pulse in your ears. You suck in a deep breath, focusing on the way your ribs and stomach expand and the way the water passes through your fingers. 

You stretch your arms above your head, linking your fingers together to stretch, cracking an eye open to watch the sunlight filter through the leaves as you start to backstroke through the river. 

After a while, you decide it’s time to get out. But after looking at the riverbank, you realize there’s a problem. You don’t want to get your feet dirty, it would defeat the whole point of bathing, but there’s nothing you can do. Except… maybe Enji can help you. You turn to him, about to speak until you see him, really see him.

You’ve always known that he is big, but you’ve never truly noticed it until now, observing him sprawled out in the sun like this. The thickness of his thighs and arms makes your skin hot despite the chilly water. You bite your tongue to try and stop your mind from racing, suddenly remembering Nemuri and all her debauched, wanton stories, then trying to ignore how you feel like you’re in one now. But your fingers are pruning, the temperature is dropping from pleasant to icy, you’ll have time to unpack these thoughts later, alone. Or as alone as you can be, with him around.

“Enji.”

He doesn’t open his eyes but he makes a sound of acknowledgement.

“Can you help me?”

He opens his eyes and he stands, quirking a brow for you to continue.

“I don’t want to get my feet dirty, I forgot to bring shoes.”

Enji gets up from the stone and picks up the towel you set over your dirty clothes, shaking it out so it unfolds and he can hold it out. You don’t think to tell him to close his eyes as you make your way to the shore, anxious to be swaddled and dry. He easily lifts you out of the water, giving you a moment to splash your feet in the water to get rid of any sand and dirt before wrapping you up in the warm, soft cloth. He brings you to his chest, holding you against his warmth as he gathers your pile of dirty clothes in his free hand. 

Your fingers flex against the cloth as you look up at him, noticing things that seemed invisible before.

He’s… handsome. More like a man than a demon up close, still holding that otherworldly quality about him though. You’ve never seen a man like him, no man has ever looked so… enticing. Alluring. You wonder if it’s some part of his demonic glamour, you wonder if he knows he’s good looking. Past his horns you can see his defined brow bone, casting a shadow over his strong nose. You know he can sense you watching, looking, cataloguing his features with inquisitive eyes. You have to fight the urge to brush your fingertips over his cupid’s bow, suddenly curious what he would feel like under your touch. You don’t know where the urge comes from, it surprises you enough to make you cling to the cloth around you even tighter. You’re not sure how you’ve missed all those things before.

His bright, unblinking eyes flick down to your dazed expression. He grumbles, “What is it?”

You twist away, leaning the back of your head into his chest and ducking your chin down to hide your face. Your voice falters when you reply, “Nothing,” but he doesn’t comment. 

Enji just trudges through the forest, back up the mountain with steady, heavy steps until you’re back in your new home. 

You blink, surprised at your own thoughts. Home. That’s the first time you’ve thought of the abandoned, dilapidated castle as your home. 

You turn your head again, pressing your cheek into the heat of his chest. Instead of a heartbeat, you hear a roaring fire. You force yourself not to flinch back, telling your instincts that it’s not a real fire, that you’re safe.

Here, in his arms, you’re safe. Another surprising thought. 

You brush your fingertips over his chest, following the curve of his figure as you drift off, letting yourself doze until you’re back home.

✰ ✰ ✰

Before long, the seasons change; autumn comes and brings changing leaves and cooler weather.

You don’t think Enji notices the way you scour the other rooms in the castle for more sheets and covers, but he does. You insist that it’s only to prepare for the winter, but he doesn’t listen.

“I’ll be sleeping here now, in your room. I’m enough to keep you warm.”

You purse your lips as you fold clothes and blankets. They’re new to you but you’re sure they’ve been stuffed into the wardrobe for decades. Some of the garments have to be disposed of, fallen too far into disrepair for you to consider salvaging. 

“You could just light a fire for me, it just sounds like you want to keep watch over me.”

“If that were true then would I not simply say that.” 

You’re almost certain he’s lying. He holds your gaze, challenging you to call him out on his bluff. 

“Fine,” you appeal, “Just try not to snore.”

“I… I don’t snore,” he says indignantly.

You just shrug and set your pile of fabrics aside before you crawl into bed with an impish little smile tugging at your lips. Enji huffs but doesn’t try to defend himself further, moving to the empty corner of your room and curling up. You turn to stare at his back, wondering if he truly falls asleep or if he just rests with his eyes closed. You match your breaths with his, slow and deep, and it quickly puts you to sleep.

It’s not long before you wake up, a few hours at most. It isn’t cold, not really, but it’s not warm enough for you. You could pull a blanket out of your folded pile, you left a nice wool one right at the top, but something compels you to seek out more organic heat. You slink out of your bed, dragging the thin blanket with you and wrapping it around your body as you pad over to Enji.

“Enji,” you whisper, meek as you gently jostle his shoulder, “Enji, are you asleep?”

He grunts, turning a bit to face you over his shoulder, “No. What is it, little one?”

You tighten the blanket around you, fingers flexing on your biceps as you chew on your lip, “I’m… can I sleep next to you?”

He doesn’t poke for an excuse, he just huffs and rolls back over. For a moment, you think you’ve been rejected. A sour, pinched frown settles on your face and you turn away, resigning yourself to sleeping alone until he speaks, “Come here.”

You do your best not to be eager, moving around him until you can shuffle into the space between him and the stone wall.

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep on the bed?” 

“No, ‘s too cold,” you prop your head up on his bicep, already drifting back to sleep, “You’re softer than you look, you know.”

He makes a quiet noise of amusement, closing his eyes again as you shimmy closer. It’s just for warmth, for comfort, that’s what you tell yourself.

You dream of him.

In the dream, he talks like a spitting, crackling fire; more accurate to the stories you’ve heard than how he’s acted with you around. You see what he would look like as a human, or at least what you imagine him to be. Pale, still as handsome as ever, the horns on his head replaced by hair as red as a sunset. The air around you is still oppressive with blazing humidity, sweat beading on your brow. You can’t really hear what he says, but you can tell he’s commanding, powerful. Barking out orders to someone until he sees you. His expression softens, mellowing out like a lover’s does, as he makes his way over to you.

This human Enji still looms over you as he easily scoops you into his arms, thumbing away your sweat with a gentle touch. You wrap your hands around his neck as he pulls you to him and kisses you, and you kiss him back.

It’s enough to startle you awake, jolting as your eyes snap open. Enji pulls you to him, his lips brushing against your forehead as he shushes and soothes you with quiet sounds, making you feel like a skittish animal.

You push back on his chest, needing room to breathe, so much skin to skin contact won’t help your mind stop racing. He keeps eye contact with you, brows furrowing slightly in a silent question. You don’t look away until it becomes too intense, scrutinized too closely under his gaze, you look instead to your hands, still splayed over his pecs. You feel his chest rise and expand as he breathes, warm and steady against you.

He stays still as your hands start to roam, letting you truly touch him for the first time. Enji sucks in a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and lets it out in a satisfied sigh. You catalogue his arms and chest under your curious hands, feeling him tense and relax each time you gently push or squeeze. You trail upwards, skimming along his neck and jaw, up and up until you find his horns. You follow the base of one with your index finger of your right hand, your left moving up to poke the tip before you wince at the sharpness.

“You’re so soft,” he muses. There’s amusement in his eyes, yes, not cruelty. The realization strikes you with such an impact it’s as if you’ve been physically shoved. Through your stay here he’s never been cruel, not intentionally, not maliciously, “What are you thinking about?” he murmurs as your eyes become fixed on his lips.

Your cheeks feel like hot coals now, pinpricks of embarrassment burning your skin as you pull your hands away from his face. You don’t know what compels you to be honest about your thoughts, “Kissing.”

“Kissing?” he questions, “Kissing what?”

“Not what, fool, who.”

“Not I, surely,” he says flatly, but his eyes stay twinkling like you’re being funny.

“Surely,” you mutter as you try to turn away, but his finger on your cheek stops you.

You slowly let him guide you back to facing him, letting your eyes wander over his neutral expression. Enji leans his head forward slightly before pausing, giving you an out. Your eyes flick down to his lips, back up to his eyes, then finally shutting and you feel his hot breath on you right before his lips meet yours.

He kisses you and suddenly your whole body is aflame, heat pooling low in your gut when his hand wraps around your waist. You’ve kissed a few people before, but nothing like this. He pulls back but your lips stay warm even without the contact.

“Again,” you whisper as you cup the side of his face with one hand, “Please kiss me again.”

Under your palm, you feel him clench his jaw before he obeys, slotting your lips together with ease. You feel his mouth open slightly and you follow his motions, parting your lips before jumping at the feeling of his hot tongue prodding yours.

“You’re shaking,” he rumbles, breath hot against your lips, “Are you frightened?”

“No,” you answer honestly, “I’ve just never felt like this before.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure. I just…” you struggle to find the right words for the way your pulse has sped up, for the way your thighs pinch together, you find none, “I need.”

You hope it’s enough for him to understand, for him to verbalize what you can’t. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, “Take off your clothes.”

You both move, you stand as he kneels, his light filling the room enough for you to see the blanket fall away. You reach back to undo the fabric of your dress but he stops, murmuring that he can do it for you.

You turn and let him undo the laces of your dress. Enji’s movements are slow and gentle, like he’s peeling delicate fruit. Your arms move on reflex to cover yourself when the fabric falls away to pool on the floor, but you remember he’s seen you bare before. It does little to ease your nerves, but it’s something. You drop your hands as you turn around to face him, cheeks burning when his tail wraps around your bare thigh.

“You’re beautiful.”

His hard cock drags against your knee, too heavy to defy gravity and spring up, you suppress a gasp at the heat of it on your skin. You look down, not knowing what to expect, but it’s more familiar than you’d thought it would be. It makes sense, since the rest of him is considerably human.

“It’s so… human,” you laugh at the way his brow raises in question, “Summer nights with friends, it’s, um, easier to swim naked.”

He hums, accepting your answer, “I could take my true form… but I’m not sure that the way you are now you could take it.”

You tilt your head, curious, “The way I am now?’

Enji makes a noncommittal grunt and turns his head to side, “Are you certain you want to do this?”

Another deflection, you’re used to them by now so you don’t really pay it any mind. Instead you press yourself to his front and reach for his hands, “Yes,” you’re surprised that your voice comes out so steady, “I do, I… I want you.”

His expression softens for a brief moment before it pinches back up again, only because of the way you shamelessly reach down for his cock. A deep, guttural groan of your name bubbles out of his throat as you pump your fist up and down.

“It’s alright if you hurt me,” you whisper as he thrusts up into your hand, you rest your head on his chest to look down as you work your hand over him, listening for the familiar blaze where his heart would be.

“No,” he rumbles, the vibrations of him speaking echoing down to your chest, “I will not hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

As your thumb glides over his slit, smearing the hot precum along his length, he huffs, “Yes, I can.”

“It’s supposed to hurt, that’s what I’ve been told. I know.”

His hand stills your motions so you look up at him curiously, “You’re a virgin.”

Your face burns hot, not only because of the way his flames surge when he realizes, “Yes, I’ve never… but I know things!”

“Stupid humans,” he grumbles, reaching down to easily pick you up for a searing kiss. You let out a little gasp and cling to him as he brings you to his chest, slinging your arms around his neck before he continues, “Almost nothing in your world is supposed to hurt. Selfishness and ignorance is what it is.”

“What do you mean?” you ask as he sets you down again.

“I’ll show you,” he starts, about to move out of your grasp but you stop him by reaching for him again. 

“Wait, I want to touch you.”

His cock is even more unnaturally warm than the rest of him, leaking thick, hot precum from the fat tip. You run your palm over his cockhead, spreading the slick over your hand to work him better. He groans as you wrap your hands around his cock, fingertips unable to reach your thumb as you clumsily work your hands over him. In that moment, you wonder if he’s as experienced as he comes off, or if he’s more virginal than he implied.

“That’s good,” he rumbles as one of his massive palms rubs down your shoulder and smooths down your back, bathing you in sultry heat. You look up at him with wide eyes as his cock twitches in your grip, your thumb rubs over his slit again, drawing a languid groan from his chest, “You feel good.”

You smile, warmth rising in your cheeks at the praise. You’re happy that, despite your inexperience, you can make him feel pleasure. He lets you continue for a while, seemingly amused with your expressions and reactions to the way his body responds. 

You sink down, categorizing him with all your senses, and you realize you can smell him. As you kiss down his abdomen your hands keep moving and you realize there’s more than just fire and smoke, the smell of him is deep, masculine and rich.

All you want to do is put your mouth around him, to taste, to feel the weight of him pressing against your tongue— you don’t know where the urge comes from, but it feels right.

“Come now,” he gently pulls you away, hissing quietly through his teeth at the loss of contact. You make a small noise to protest, your curiosity not yet sated, but he ignores it, “Don’t you wish to be touched as well?”

That shuts you up quickly and you silently watch him easily drag the mattress off the bed frame and onto the floor. You don’t question it, you know that if he got onto the bed with you the wood would easily snap. You try not to be overly eager as you’re guided by his large hands to lay down. Enji’s hand travels up your thigh to the apex of your legs, dragging the pad of his finger along your inner thigh until you squirm, angling your hips so he’ll touch you where you want. His touch only lingers there for a moment before he pulls away, leaving you yearning.

“I’m going to use my tongue,” he says like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like you aren’t meant to be flustered by it. 

“Really?” you face burns and a feeling you cannot name pulses through your veins. Excitement? Embarrassment? Whatever it is has made your heartbeat move between your legs, suddenly very aware of the way your clit screams for attention. You shouldn’t feel so surprised, had you not wanted to do the same to him?

“It’ll make you feel good,” he cocks his head at your stupefied expression, “Do you trust me?”

He hovers above you until you nod yes, his hands grip your waist as he kisses your lips. You only get to kiss him back for a moment before he’s pulling away, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your breasts. He idly licks at your nipples, you let out a pleased hum when he sucks them, one at a time, gently into his mouth before he continues downward.

He nips the juncture of your hip slightly when he reaches it, “You have to spread your legs,” he says matter-of-factly, kneading his thumbs into the backs of your thighs.

You grumble quietly that you know that, you’re not stupid, you just need a moment. You let your thighs spread, coaxed apart by Enji’s gentle touch. Your face burns as you feel his breath ghost along your folds, you’re too shy to look so you throw an arm over your eyes. Your other hand comes up to cover your mouth to stifle the groan your body lets out, mirroring Enji’s own pleased sound.

“You smell like sin,” he rasps before he licks a hot stripe up your slit, making you buck your hips off the sheets, “Taste like it too, wicked girl.”

You can’t manage to reply, the sensation of his tongue against you is too foreign, too wonderful for you to form words. Your thighs tremble against his hands as he continues to swipe his tongue on you in slow, heavy strokes. You can feel your cunt soaking him, coating him in your arousal as you let out sweet little cries each time he touches your clit.

Enji switches up the pace, suddenly wrapping his feverish lips around your clit and suckling, drawing out a sharp, surprised shriek out of you. He does it again, longer this time, and you keen, fluttering around nothing— but not for long.

He starts to slip his tongue inside, easing into you slowly as you hold your breath. He slides it out of you to kiss your clit and whisper, “Breathe.”

You nod and try to obey, but your breaths still come out shaky as he fucks you gently with his tongue, “Enji, I’m—!” you don’t even know what you are going to say, what words do you have to describe what you’re feeling?

You can feel your core clench around his tongue as your legs tremble, your arms scrambling for purchase on something, anything to help you feel like you’re not going to float away. Eventually your hands find his horns, when you cling to them he grunts just a tiny bit louder. You emit a sound like some kind of plaintive, wounded animal while he focuses on getting his hot tongue impossibly deeper inside you. When his upper lip brushes against your clit, you jolt, whispering for him to touch you there again.

When he does so, your hips roll without your command, stars burst behind your eyelids, and ecstasy you’ve never known floods your body. You tense, curling forward with a desperate, wordless cry, something wicked bubbling and snapping low in your stomach before you relax back onto the sheets. 

You keep your hands on his horns through it all, using them as handles to keep your cunt pressed to his mouth. You greedily chase the feeling, wanting whatever it is to last as long as it can, knowing Enji won’t mind. He wants you to feel good, he wants to bring you to this peak again and again.

Eventually, the electric, all-encompassing pleasure subsides back into the same low arousal as before, but you yearn for that high once again. Enji seems to sense this and pulls back, running his hand over your stomach to soothe you when his tongue slips out of you.

“I…” you gulp and lick your lips before you laugh breathily, “I didn’t know anything could feel that good.”

“Do you think that’s all I have to give you, little flame?”

“No, I—” a delayed shiver splinters your sentence, you have to squeeze your eyes shut and take a big, deliberate breath to continue, “I know there’s more.”

“Tell me, what happens next?” he rumbles as he crawls upwards from between your splayed legs. He takes his hands to the backs of your knees, holding you open as he waits for an answer.

“You’re going to fuck me,” you breathe, back arching at the sight of him looming over you.

“I am,” he smirks, rutting his cock along your inner thigh, “How do you feel?” he purrs as he drags his drooling cock along your folds.

“Empty,” you whine, spanning your hands over your stomach as if to show where the ache is, “Enji, please. I need you.”

He finally acquiesces, pushing into you with agonizing slowness that leaves you gasping. Your eyes squeeze shut and your breathing seems to stop as he inches inside you, filling you with warmth from the inside out. That, paired with the way his cock is steadily weeping precum, eases his way in, your muscles relaxing for him. 

“How do you feel now?” he asks when he’s buried at the hilt, rolling his hips a few times to let you really feel the way he fills you. 

It takes you a minute to respond, biting back mewls and sighs as you try to blink away the stars from your eyes, “F–Full, Enji… I feel— oh, God— full.” 

It feels blasphemous to even mention any gods at this moment, being split nearly in half by a demon, but you don’t care. He’s been the only god you’ve ever truly worshipped, and you won’t stop now.

“Move,” you whisper as he settles his forearms around your head, “Please, you can move.”

His thrusts are slow, torturous, letting you take in every inch of him and memorize the feeling. This must be what the desert is like, with Enji as a scorching, merciless sun, his heat penetrating the very fibres of your being— and you love it. He’s everywhere, everything you can think or feel at this moment; inside you, around you, it’s only him.

Your shaking hands reach up to touch his chest, dragging your fingers along his collarbone as you let out a needy moan.

“Enji!” you choke out, and he seems to know what you’re begging for, even you yourself aren’t sure.

He speeds his hips up, slamming into you with delicious force. The way he fucks into you is precise, deliberate, angled as if to pull the most pleasure out of you as possible. But there’s still something missing, something you need to push you over the edge again. You curse under your breath and tremble, canting your hips to meet each of Enji’s thrusts.

He lets out a long, drawn out groan before he kisses you softly, “Touch yourself,” he encourages, you obey.

Never before have you felt such an uninhibited release of control, of self-consciousness, of everything. All you can do as pleasure racks your body is hold onto him as he fucks you through your orgasm. His body heat flares up again as his hips stutter and stop, pushing his cock into you fully as he, too, comes undone.

He weighs down on you, yes, but not enough to crush you, not enough to hurt. His body over yours feels comforting, like an anchor to reality amidst all the pleasure.

“It’s hot!” you stutter and gasp as his cock pulses inside you, the molten heat of his cum invading your stomach, squirming enough to make Enji take your wrists in one hand and pin them above your head.

“It’s alright,” he moans as his lips find yours, “You’re alright, you can take it.”

You stay like that for a minute more, his cum flooding your cunt as you exchange dazed, slow kisses until he pulls out. You whimper at the sensation of it pooling out of you, but Enji pulling you into his embrace distracts you. He rolls onto his back as you cozy up to his side, your cheek pressed against his chest. 

You lay there for a while, listening to his rumbling breaths as your pulse slows back to its resting state. Your thighs ache from being spread open for so long but you enjoy the feeling, stretching your legs and flexing your feet with a deep sigh. Enji strokes his hand over your head and neck, fingers trailing down to your arm and tickling your wrist.

It’s nice, resting like this, tucked under his arm, but once your head starts to clear you begin to think. About the other maidens, if you’re the first and if you’ll be the last. You don’t want to ruin the quiet bliss but you just have to ask him.

“Enji, what happened to them?” you whisper, afraid to break the silence, “The other girls.”

He pulls you closer, his fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair for a minute before he answers, “There have been many offerings. Some fled before I even arrived, some stayed with me for a while before setting off into the world, some truly did wish to die.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you bite your cheek to tamp down the nausea at the thought of him killing anyone, “Have any of them… been with you, like this?”

“Yes, a few of the inquisitive ones,” you try to suppress the acrid tug of jealousy bubbling up in your stomach, “None like you, however.”

Your emotions seem to simmer down at that, “Oh?”

“I’ve never cared for anyone, human or otherwise, the way I care for you.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Time blurs after that night. It seems like you spend forever exploring each other’s bodies and minds, kissing, having sex; with his stamina you can do anything you can think of, in any room of the castle, with hardly any limitations. 

When you’re not spread out on the mattress or pressed against a wall or bent over furniture, you explore the forest around your home, Enji always in tow as your guardian. He brings you down to the river for you to bathe as often as you’d like, grumbling when you splash him with water but never moving away. But soon, the days grow shorter and colder, forcing Enji to leave without you to fetch you food, water, and other necessities. Each time seems like he’s gone for longer than the last, you know this time will be no different.

“I have to leave,” he rumbles, tracing the lines of your palm with one claw.

You whine and sit up in your bed as you wrap your hand around his finger, “Let me go with you.”

He chuckles, “I’ll be gone only for a short while. You’ll stay here,” you frown but he kisses the expression away, “It’s begun to snow, little one, you don’t have any winter clothes, no shoes besides flimsy slippers.”

“I have you,” you retort.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he chides as he tucks you back into bed, “Just rest and wait for me. I’ll bring you back anything you’d like.”

“I…” you wrack your brain for something material he can give you, but you come up empty. What good are worldly pleasures now that you have him? You laugh, embarrassed, “I can’t think of anything.”

“I’ll surprise you then,” he leans down to kiss you, just a soft press of lips before he pulls back, “Wait for me.”

“Come back quickly,” you whisper against his lips.

“I will,” he replies, then he’s off, melting into the shadow before your eyes.

You shift under your blankets to get comfortable, already missing his warmth. You smile to yourself as you shut your eyes. Spoiled is the last thing you’d ever thought you’d feel all those months ago, but you’re happy that you are, happy that he’s treated you so well. Thinking of your demon, you fall into an easy slumber.

✰ ✰ ✰

You’re shaken awake, pulled out of a deep sleep so forcibly it leaves you disoriented. Your lips already move to form Enji’s name, but instead of the familiar red you see a shock of white hair, “S–Sekijiro? What… what on earth are you doing here?”

“I knew you were alive!” he crows, “The elders, they didn’t believe me, but they gave me their blessing to come find you anyway.” 

Your vision is still bleary as he pulls you out of bed, pulling you to him even as you try to move away, “What are you talking about?”

“The altar was singed but there was no blood! I knew you hadn’t been killed.” 

“Sekijiro, I–I can’t leave!” you protest, trying to think of a way to get him to go away quickly before Enji returns.

“The demon is weakest during the winter, you know this!” he spits as he dresses you, “You’re coming with me,” It can hardly be called getting you dressed, he just tugs some slippers onto your feet and forcibly leads you out of the castle. You object, kicking and screaming the whole time, but he’s stronger than you, you hardly slow him down at all.

It’s not snowing enough to stop Sekijiro’s mission, it’s just coming down hard enough to delay you both. Snowflakes clump on your lashes, the crisp air burns your lungs as you pant and try not to trip and fall as the undergrowth seems to grasp at your legs, snagging and tearing your thin skirt.

“Don’t worry,” Sekijiro barely sounds winded as he pulls you through the forest, completely ignoring your struggle, “I’ll take you home, we can be together.”

For the first time you find yourself truly craving all encompassing heat, a sweltering inferno, anything but this man’s hand around your wrist, icy cold. You remember that he used to run hot, but it seems like you’ve acclimated to warmer temperatures. You hate the feeling of his hands on you, you hate him. You struggle to wrench your arm out of his grip, digging your feet into the forest floor to try and slow his stride as he keeps dragging you along, but the snow just keeps you gliding along.

“Enji!” you shriek into the dark trees, hoping your voice will carry on the wind to wherever he’s disappeared to, “Enji, help!”

“Shut up, woman!” he turns, slapping his other hand over your mouth with an angry frown as he whisper-shouts, “Endeavor will hear us if you aren’t careful!”

You bite his palm, cringing at the dirt and sweat-salt you taste there. He jerks his arm back and you yell venom laced words, “I’m counting on it!”

“I’m not sure you’re worth the trouble now,” his brow furrows as his grip tightens. You yelp when he shakes you, hard enough to make your teeth clack together, “I didn’t know you’d be fucked up like this.”

“Then let me go!”

“No,” he spits out, “I’ve ventured all this way to find you, you’re going to be mine.”

The air shifts, once a forest teeming with life becomes a hollow, silent vacuum. He can sense it too, like every living thing is holding their breath and playing dead. You know he’s never felt this before, this anticipation, this terror, not since he was a child at least; but you know this feeling down to your marrow. It no longer chills your soul, but instead comforts you, swaddling you in a now familiar warmth as Enji falls from the sky.

His massive form leaves a divot in the dirt and snow as he lands feet first, hunched over with the weight of his own hulking frame. Sekijiro’s hand on your wrist tightens painfully but you don’t flinch, don’t dare make a sound, stunned into silence by your demon come to save you.

You aren’t scared of him, not anymore, but you’re still in awe of him as he straightens up. His tail flicks in the air agitatedly, the heat that emanates off him melts the snow even in the trees, you can feel the waves of warmth even with how far away as you are. His eyes seem to be focused on you, not even seeing Sekijiro, completely drawn to you like you’re alone in the forest with him.

You both move towards each other, silently drawn together like magnets, but you’re stopped by Sekijiro yanking you back. Enji snarls, baring his teeth as the flames on his body roar to life to advance on Sekijiro, his demonic eyes flickering from turquoise to pitch black. Your captor lets you go, almost throwing you towards Enji as he stumbles back.

Enji’s growl rips through the air as he encircles you, his tail wrapping around your thigh as his arms pull you to him. He’s like a volcano, erupting with fury so palpable it seems to fill in the empty space between the two of you and Sekijiro.

You put your hand on the fire of his chest, feeling the heat but not being burned, some magic you’re sure Enji has. Sekijiro pulls a dagger from his boot, and if not for the fiery determination in the man’s garnet eyes you would’ve laughed. The metal is no threat to Enji, no more than another twig to snap beneath his heel.

Enji pushes you behind him as he lunges forward and bats Sekijiro aside. You watch Sekijiro hit the thick trunk of a tree face first, your hands flying to cover your mouth as you gasp. 

And for one horrible moment you think he’s dead, but he soon rises. Blood spilling down half of his forehead, dripping onto his eyes and cheeks steadily as he stumbles to his feet. The dagger is somehow still in his grasp, he raises it even though he has to lean on the tree for balance. Enji raises one massive arm, bright red claws sinisterly catching the light, you know he means to kill Sekijiro.

“Don’t!” you shriek, startling all three of you with your shrill tone. Enji turns to you, eyes seeking an answer, Sekijiro doesn’t take his eyes off Enji’s claws in the air. As much as you dislike him, there’s no sense in killing Sekijiro, you know in your heart that Enji knows that too. You stumble forward and wrap your arms around Enji’s bicep tugging at it until he moves back, “Dont,” you whisper as you place your hands on his chest, ushering him behind you.

You stand in front of him, your back to his chest as his fire curls around you, not hurting you, just encircling you with heat. You sense he’s still agitated, still harboring the urge to lunge onto Sekijiro and tear him to ribbons, so you press back onto him and steady yourself by putting your hands on his hips behind you.

“Leave this place,” your voice is as clear and loud as a shout even though it comes out as a whisper, “Never search for me again. Tell the village I’m dead, that you were wrong,” he nods along to each sentence, snivelling on the ground, “Never think of me again. Forget me, forget all of this.”

“Disobey her and I will know. I will find you,” Enji’s rumbling voice echoes through the air like distant thunder, his threat permeating the very oxygen you breathe.

Sekijiro has no desire to be on the business end of Enji’s claws so he scrambles backwards quickly, furiously wiping the blood and sweat from his eyes, “I was never here! I won’t disobey, I won’t!” 

And with that, he’s off— scrambling through the woods without even so much as a glance behind.

You stay pressed to Enji until you can no longer hear twigs snapping and snow crunching under Sekijiro’s heavy stride. After standing in silence for a minute, you crumble; sinking to your knees with a shaky cry, not truly weeping but just letting out the stress in desperate sobs.

Enji immediately follows you to the ground, crowding you with his huge, warm body. He looks at you with wild, searching eyes as he holds your face in his enormous palms. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks and forehead, instantly evaporating any errant tears, “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m alright,” you hiccup, your hands wrapping around his index fingers on either hand, “You came for me.”

He furrows his brows and huffs at your words, leaning forward to thump his forehead to yours, “I’d raze the world for you.”

Your heart sings, even as his rough horns dig into your skin. You close your eyes and move your hands to loop around his thick neck as you try and calm your breathing. Enji doesn’t move or speak, he just holds you, the heat of his body staving away the biting cold of the forest.

“Take us home,” you whisper.

✰ ✰ ✰

The doors to the castle barely shut before he’s on you, fervently pressing his lips to yours as his hands wander.

“I need you,” Enji growls your name, but the sound doesn’t frighten you, not anymore.

You feel the same, worked up into a frenzy at almost being snatched away from him, “Then take me,” you whimper against his lips.

He drops to his knees, still towering a full head above you as he rips off your now sullied dress. You shiver only for a moment at the cold, but his hands soon warm you as they trail over your body. His cock already prods at your hip, fever-hot and leaking. You use one hand to idly stroke his length as he gropes your chest, popping one nipple into his balmy mouth and sucking harshly.

You hiss and he lets up, leaving a trail of kisses around your areola as an apology. He huffs and mumbles between kisses, “How dare he. How dare he try and take you.”

You shush him with a kiss to his forehead, right at the base of one of his horns, “Forget him, it’s just you and I now.”

Enji surges up to kiss you again, his tongue insistently swiping against your bottom lip until you open for him. He kisses you like you’ve been apart for centuries instead of mere hours, he takes hold of you like prey but you are not afraid— you feel safe, wanted. You throw your arms around his neck as your tongues meet and one of his fingers slips between your legs, the pad of his fingertip collects the slick at your entrance before gently massaging your clit. Your hips roll forward and you gasp into his mouth before whimpering when he pulls away from you. He quiets you with a gentle kiss to your neck, one of his horns brushing against your cheek.

He turns you around to face the wall as his tail wraps itself securely around your waist, lifting you up as his hands part your legs.

“Enji,” you sigh, your hands reaching down to touch him as his cock prods at your entrance.

“You’re mine,” he grunts into your ear, “No one will touch you, never again.”

“Yours, just yours!” you cling to his hands, not worried about his grip on you faltering as you writhe with impatience, “I don’t want anyone but you.”

He takes what’s his, rutting into you with as much force as you can take, just teetering on the precipice of pain. When you whimper he lays kisses along your back, one of his hands moving up to lay against your chest. His palm sits against your sternum as he thrusts into you, each time his hips meet yours his claws graze your neck. 

It’s thrilling, electric, terrifying, being taken so thoroughly by a demon— your demon.

You let yourself go, not worrying about if he’ll hold you up or catch you if you fall because you’re certain he will. Each press and drag of his cock inside you rocks you to your core, feeling him in the deepest part of you, filling all the empty space inside you.

You realize this isn’t just sex, it’s not him just claiming you. It’s thank goodness you’re alive, it’s I’m sorry, it’s stay with me— oh, it’s making love.

With that realization, you’re cumming; shuddering and keening his name as he follows suit, filling you with molten heat deep in your gut.

✰ ✰ ✰

You wake in your room, still in his arms, nestled into the crook of his elbow. You don’t open your eyes but you’re sure he knows you’re awake. He presses his lips to your forehead, encouraging you to stretch and push away the last of the weariness pulling at your mind.

When you finally crack open your eyes, you see the furrow of his brow and the frown tugging his lips downward. You reach a hand up to trace his cupid’s bow with your index finger, “Enji, what’s wrong?”

He kisses your finger, his face relaxing a fraction at the sleepy tone of your voice. It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, and when he speaks his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, “I felt poisoned by your absence. When I heard you screaming for me...”

Your gaze hardens, “I didn’t leave by choice.”

“I know,” he coos, soothing you with a kiss, “I know,” his brow pinches again as he looks down at you, brilliant blue eyes flicking about like he’s still making sure you’re really with him. 

“I was never in any real danger, he was only a man. Nothing compared to a demon like you.”

“But you’re a human too. You will die, and I will be alone again.”

“I…” you start, but realize there’s nothing you can say to comfort him. It’s simply a fact, one day you will be gone, such is the curse of mortality. You shake your head and take his face in your hands, “Is there anything we can do? Magic, like some kind of ritual to bind you to me? Anything at all?”

He hums thoughtfully as he turns ever so slightly to kiss your palm, “There is something,” your eyes light up and you nod for him to continue, “You could become like me.”

“Immortal?” you whisper.

“No, demons can die. We’re just difficult to kill.”

“Oh,” you gasp quietly, “So you could turn me into a demon?”

He nods solemnly, “I’d need to take something from you for it to work.”

You hum, pressing your lips against his jaw before you reply, “What do I have that is not already yours?”

“It may hurt.”

“Don’t care.”

He cracks a smile, smoothing the back of his knuckles over your cheek, “Truly, you do not wish to leave me? I would have set you free long ago but… I am selfish. Weak. Especially to beautiful things like you.”

“I’ve made my choice. I am yours, and you are mine. All that’s left to do is change me.”

“One condition,” he replies.

“Anything,” you say without an ounce of hesitation.

“We keep your village under my protection. No more sacrifices or offerings, I have all I could ever want. We don’t have to stay here, but we should come back every so often.”

You have a thousand questions, but since you’ll have the rest of eternity to ask, you start with just one, “Why do you want to protect that place so ardently?”

His eyes burn a shade darker before he kisses you. The press of his lips revealing more than he could ever say in words, but he replies anyway, his tone like you’re a fool for not seeing the most obvious answer, “It brought you to me.”

✰ ✰ ✰

title is from the poem start here by caitlyn siehl 🤍 special thanks to sophie and cynic for beta reading!!

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#enji todoroki x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor x you #enji todoroki x you #endeavor smut #enji todoroki smut #bnha smut #added strangers to lovers idc idc #💒.txt #cw monsterfucking #enji ❤️ #creature feature collab 🖤 #📝 — bnha #1k gang

[silver-tongued-bby]

Devotion - Part I

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Nun!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dark!Loki fic and it explores sexual and dark religious (catholic) themes, including mind control (paralysis), loss of faith, oral sex (m and f receiving), loss of virginity, knife play, blood play, dirty talk, a dom/sub relationship, and general blasphemy. Read at your own risk!!

Words: 3,668

Summary: You chose to devout yourself to God. But did you choose the right one?

A/N: If there is a hell, I think I'll be going straight to it for this one. Please remember this is a work of fiction- if you take issue with the themes mentioned above, please do not interact.

...

It was late when you finished your prayers- much later than usual. You’d stayed by the chancel, kneeling on the soft velvet of the hassock well beyond the sunset, your Sisters excusing themselves one by one. The votive candles were mostly out by the time you stood on shaky legs, the feeling slowly coming back to them as you extinguished the remaining flames.

You sighed, hoping that the twelve hours of prayer today would be enough to rid yourself of the dream. Walking behind the altar, you turned off the lights. Things were still somewhat illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight coming through the stained glass.

Moving back around the altar towards the nave you stopped, seeing the outline of a figure before you, your heartbeat in your ears as you held a palm to your chest. You tilted your head, blinking furiously in the darkness, attempting to make sense of the form. It looked like a person- a man, standing by the open doors. Must be a trick of the light, you thought as you squinted in an attempt to make out the tall shadow.

Sighing, you gingerly stepped down the altar’s carpeted stairs to slowly approach the form, keeping your eyes on it. Suddenly, you stopped, the hairs standing on end at the back of your neck. This was how the dream started. A figure- a dark figure is what you’d see before it would float towards you, wrapping you up in its darkness and consuming you whole. You’d wake gasping for air, your eyes wet with tears.

You took a deep breath, chastising yourself for your foolishness. You were awake, and the dark mass in front of you was likely a shadow from outside, or the coat rack, or the monstrance- Sister Anne always left the monstrance out after she buffed it.

Shaking your head, you stepped down onto the cold stone floor. Then you thought you saw the figure move. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you stopped once more, trying to make out the shapes in the shadow. You attempted to calm yourself down- you were awake, this wasn’t a dream. Besides, in the dream you always heard that laugh- the dark, velvety laugh ringing out in the silence. There was no laugh now.

You pinched yourself for good measure, nodding when you felt the pain, ensuring that this was not a dream. Huffing, you decided to speed-walk down the nave, your steps ringing out as you approached the shadow.

You were about four paces away when you finally saw the glint of two eyes in the moonlight. You gasped and scrambled backwards, the figure before you now clear.

“At last.” A voice- the voice from your dream. It was deep, dark velvet ringing out through the silence. A sliver of moonlight was hitting two green eyes, illuminating pale skin and a dark brow. You could see the inky, black hair that fell around his face in waves.

You were stunned, and wanted so desperately to turn and run but you couldn’t bring your body to move. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound came out, just like the dream. You began reciting The Apostles Creed in your mind, attempting to calm yourself and awake from whatever this was.

The familiar deep chuckle hit your ears. “Your prayer falls on deaf ears, little one. As they always have.” He stepped closer, then slowly circled your paralysed form.

Undeterred, you kept praying, shouting each word within your mind at the presence before you.

A hand came to grip your face firmly, long fingers digging into your delicate skin. “No more of that, little one.” With that, your thoughts were silenced. Held in place like the rest of you.

Your breath was loud against the silence, shaky puffs coming in and out as the entity observed you. You were struck by the beauty of this presence, his chiseled face more breathtaking than the paintings of Christ. He stood tall, before you, lithe figure covered in a crisp black suit.

“Your god has long since abandoned you. All of you, worshipping an entity who simply flicked the switch to humanity, who left once the beginnings had been set in motion.” He let his hand fall from your face and circled you once more.

“Yet you continue to pray, to worship, to adore him. And this Jesus Christ you vow yourself to,” he laughed pitifully, “a mortal. Long gone.”

“So much work, so much devotion, to an absent god. A god who cannot solve your problems, empower you, or answer your prayers.” He stopped in front of you and reached to pull at the veil covering your head, letting it drop to the floor. Tears were welling up in your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“Beautiful,” he breathed against your ear, “what god would ask for such beauty to be hidden away, like a dirty, little secret? What god would tell their most devout followers to vow themselves to never be touched,” he lightly traced your cheekbone with his knuckle, “be pleasured by another?”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you felt the hold on you release. “You may answer,” he watched you as you blinked and shivered, a tear falling down either of your heated cheeks.

“You can’t know that- that He isn’t with us,” you frowned at him, your voice small.

He gave you a pitying look, his head tilting slightly. “Oh but I do, little one. And so do you.” He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding you darkly. “You prayed to your god for twelve hours this day, ten hours each day before. I heard you. I watched you.”

Your eyes widened. How could he have known? How long has he been watching you?

“A long time, little one. I heard you praying to your god to take away the dream I sent you. The dream foretelling you of my arrival.” He circled you again, leaning in to speak close- so close to your ear. You shivered. He could read your thoughts.

His mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement before he continued. “If your god is with you, why did he not answer your prayers and protect you from me?”

“I- He must be testing me,” you said, the tears still falling.

“If your god is here with us, why is he not striking me down for standing on his ground? Speaking such blasphemy, in his own house?”

“I- I don’t know,” you said, a quiet sob shaking you. You felt alone, scared, and lost. If He was not with you, how could you carry on devoting yourself to Him? Was any of this His will? Or were all the rituals, the sacraments, fabricated by man?

You’d been having doubts for a while- since the dreams started. Instead of opening up to your sisters about it you held your tongue. Saying it out loud would have made it all so real. As it is now.

“Hush now, little one. Tears won’t do a thing.” He touched under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

You felt defeated and betrayed by the cause you’d so devoted yourself to. Pointless. What were you to do now? Without your faith you had nothing, no one.

“You started down the wrong path.” His eyes were locked with yours, a glint of something beneath the blue-green. “I can help you correct it. Worship me, and I’ll hear your prayers. Devote yourself to me, and I’ll answer them. Adore me,” he brushed his finger tips across your lips, “and I’ll empower you.”

You felt a thrill with his words, his actions, and his darkening stare. “What must I do?” You asked, your heart racing.

“Get on your knees.”

You knelt in front of him, bowing your head to his towering form, your hands clasped together in your lap.

“Eyes on me. Always.” He said, and you brought your face up to meet his stare. Before you were fully aware of what was happening he’d taken himself out, his hardened member before you.

Your eyes widened at it- you’d never seen a phallus up close in person. The vow you took promised yourself to your lord. You weren’t even supposed to touch a man, and had stuck to that for the majority of your life. You were nervous, unsure of what to do, how to please this dark entity before you. You also realised you’d never even asked him his name.

He chuckled darkly. “I am known to many as Loki, but you may call me Master. Now, bring yourself closer to me.” You leant forward. “Good. Open your mouth, little one.”

You did as you were told and he laid his thick member over your tongue, the taste of his skin salty, his heady scent enveloping you.

“Use your lips and tongue to worship me. Show me your devotion,” he angled his hips forward so more of his length filled your mouth.

You kept your eyes on his as you started to run your tongue along him, pursing your lips slightly. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat, which made you gag, tears springing to your eyes.

“Relax, little one. Breathe through your nose,” you did as you were told, consciously relaxing the muscle at the back of your throat. You found you could take him further, more of him pressing into you as your saliva dribbled around your lips.

“Good,” his voice sounded deeper, a small edge to it. He grasped your head, his nails lightly scraping against your scalp, bringing a little hum from you at the sensation. He twitched at that, and you took note, humming and groaning around him as he began to move you back and forth over his length.

His lips were apart as he moved you over him, his eyes running over your features. The lustful approval of his gaze made your heart flutter, and your core ache. You were so pleased to serve him, to have a God you could so tangibly show your devotion to. You wanted him to use you, use your body and soul for his pleasure.

He grunted, teeth clenched as his grip against your scalp became harsher. His hips stuttered and he groaned, his warm essence spilling into your mouth and down your throat. You were filled with pride to receive his seed, eagerly swallowing and revelling in the taste. You cleaned him off, his length remaining hard as he watched you work below him.

“Very good, little one.” He removed his hands from your scalp, gently brushing the hollows of your cheeks as you continued to suck his length. “What do you say after such a gift?” He asked.

You let him fall from your mouth, licking your lips. “Thank you, Master.” You said breathlessly.

He nodded at you in approval then motioned you to stand from the cool stone floors. You stood on shaky legs and he held up one hand, palm upwards. You tentatively put your hand in his and he gripped it lightly as he guided you towards the altar.

Once up the steps, he turned to you and in a flash of green he held a dagger. He hooked the blade into your tunic, tearing the fabric as he brought it downwards. The linen opened to expose the virginal white of your underwear. He pushed the cloth off your shoulders, letting the tunic fall to the ground. He did the same with your underwear, tearing the soft white fabric of your bra and panties to shreds, leaving you naked before the altar. He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it before disappearing it in another flash of green.

“Present yourself to me,” his eyes were busy running over your exposed skin.

“Yes Master,” you said, moving up against the altar before settling upon it and spreading your legs, exposing yourself to the cool air. You laid back, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes. Remembering all the times you’d prayed staring up at this altar made you ache for your new Master, needing him to feel your worship.

“So wet and needy for me,” he brushed a knuckle over your heat, forcing a shudder from you. “Though since it’s your first time, I will ready your body to take me.”

“Thank you Master,” you said again, resting on your elbow so you could maintain his gaze.

He smirked at you and bent a knee to bring his face closer to your heat. Your muscles twitched in anticipation as he lowered his gaze to your wet heat, his hands sliding up from your calves to your thighs, stopping so they could grip your tightly.

“Have you ever been touched here by another, little one? Kissed?” He asked, his breath ghosting over your heat.

You swallowed, shaking your head. “No, Master. N-never.”

“So pure,” his eyes ran over you before capturing your gaze once more. “Have you ever touched yourself here?”

You cast your eyes downwards, “yes, Master.” You whispered, feeling shame bubble within you, your face hot.

His hands tightened around your thighs. “Look at me,” he commanded, and you quickly met his gaze. “Never feel ashamed for taking your pleasure. Worship me through it. Give into your pleasure, give into me.” He licked a slow stripe up your folds, and you cried out, your back arching against the hard wood of the altar.

From the angle of your gaze you could see the crucifix, inverted at your position. Blinking your eyes up at the sculpture of Christ, you felt your Master’s tongue swirl over your bundle of nerves and you moaned, still gazing up at the crucifix, as if you were expecting it to come to life.

You heard a low chuckle. “I told you. He’s long gone, little one.” Your brow furrowed- you still felt your Master’s tongue over your centre, hot and wet. How could you hear him?

“Look at me,” you heard his voice once more and pulled yourself up on your elbows to meet his icy gaze as he dipped a finger within you, causing you to shudder. “Do not question. Surrender,” he curled the finger on a spot that had you seeing stars, “surrender to me.”

You nodded, licking your dry lips as you panted. You were close. His hand was pressing hard into your thigh, while the other was quickly moving in and out of you, his tongue moving in tandem. “Let me feel your euphoria, little one. Let me drink it from your very soul.”

It was all so much, the feel of his fingers within you, the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive part. You were lightly moaning, the sound of your voice and his ministrations echoing off the stone of the church. His eyes were cold steel, demanding your gaze as he steadily stoked the fire within you, the flames licking at your skin.

“Oh! Oh my…” you trailed off, “God.” He finished darkly, and you came undone, writhing against the altar. As you rode out the waves of your high you whispered, “thank you Master,” over and over in prayer, your eyes slipping to those of blue-green below.

“Very good, little one. You’re ready to take me now. To feel me deep within you.” He pulled his fingers from you and stood, eyes roaming over your naked form. He ran one finger, wet with your excitement down from the hollow of your throat to the soft tufts of hair between your legs and you shivered, the cool air kissing the trail he’d left.

Smirking down at you he gripped himself, coming closer to run the head of his length up against your dripping core. You inhaled sharply, your hand gripping the wood of the altar below.

“You were built for worship. Body and soul,” he spoke, his voice rough. He slowly pushed in an inch, your channel tight around him. You squirmed, feeling a sharp pain as he continued to push in.

“Relax. Deep breath, little one.” You did as you were told, filling your lungs with air and he slid the rest of the way in on your exhale. The pain turned sharper still, and you whined, your breaths quick and pained.

“That’s it. Don’t cry,” he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It will feel better soon. But I need you to feel the pain. I need you to feel me stretch you, to feel me break you.” His eyes went to the skin where your bodies met, where he was stretching you, holding still while you desperately tried to relax your muscles, your nails digging into the wood of the altar.

He brought his hand down, swiping around your folds. Bringing his fingers before you, you could see they were wet with slick and bright red with your blood. He brought his fingers to your lips and swiped them over your tender skin. He bent to kiss you, his tongue running along your lips. He hummed at the taste before kissing you deeply, the metallic-tinged taste lingering in your mouth.

He started to move his hips, pulling back out of you before coming forward. Your back arched, the pain mingling with some deep sort of pleasure as he began setting a pace. He moved to whisper foreign words over the shell of your ear.

You felt a warmth wash over you, the pain slipping away with it, leaving the pleasure. He came away from you, standing back up to his full height as he looked at you, his head tilted. “Does that feel better, little one?”

“Yes, Master,” you moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. His hands gripped either side of your waist, long fingers pressing into the skin as he continued to move with you.

“That’s it little one, worship me as I fuck you. Worship me as I taint you.” He continued to thrust into you, the stained glass windows of the church framing his dark figure. He gave a little flick with his fingers in the air and you felt a pressure on you- similar to finger tips, gently rubbing at your clitoris. You cried out, and he bent forward to clasp his fingers over your wrists, pulling them upwards to hold them firmly on the altar over your head as he continued to thrust within you.

You were writhing against him, the soft, woven material of his suit rubbing up against your sensitive skin, the phantom touch still continuing below. He was grinning at you, the glint in his eyes that of pure sin as he watched you lose control. You came fully undone beneath him, giving in to the pleasure he was wringing from your body, every nerve alit with it. Your vision blurred slightly but you kept your eyes open, his smirk taunting you as you came thanking him at the top of your lungs.

The touch below had continued as you rode out your orgasm, coming back in full force once your breath settled. He moved to grip your wrists with one hand, the other coming to firmly grasp your jaw, pushing your face to the side. You felt his tongue against the shell of your ear and you cried out at the sensation. He chuckled lowly before taking your earlobe between his teeth, marring the flesh then running his tongue over the heated skin. Your breaths were quick puffs, your chest rising against his as he continued to nip, bite and lick at your skin.

“You will cum once more, little one. Cum for your Master and I will reward you,” he nipped at your earlobe once more, “I’ll fill you little one. Would you like that?” His voice was divine, the dark tone of it bending you to his every will.

“Y-yes please, Master, please fill me,” you stuttered, your hips arching towards his thrusts, angling you slightly off the altar.

He chuckled once more, “good. Now, little one,” he licked the skin beneath your earlobe, “cum now.” With that he bit you- you could feel his teeth break the skin of your neck as you moaned, the pain mingling with the pleasure sharply bringing your release. The pleasure electrified you, you couldn’t keep your body still as it fully overtook your every sense, clouding your vision.

As if it were far away you heard your Master moan. His muscles tensed against you, and you felt him twitch within you. As your breath returned he pulled out of you, stepping backwards to admire your form.

He smirked and brought two fingers to your dripping hole, swirling them in the wet there. Removing them, he traced a line down your chest in the slick, forcing a shudder from you.

He connected the vertical line with one horizontal, painting a cross over your breasts. You flinched when his fingers skimmed across your nipples, your body still overstimulated.

“Perfect,” he breathed, his hand moving to close his trousers.

His eyes falling back to you, he held a hand out towards you. You took it and he guided you to stand, the cum dripping down the insides of your thigh.

He snapped his fingers and suddenly you were clothed in a tight fitting tunic, the neckline low and the colour a rich emerald green. A golden pendant hung between your breasts, a small, detailed snake on the end with emeralds for eyes. You could still feel the cold wet slick on your chest and between your legs- he hadn’t given you any underwear. “That will do,” he nodded, “very fitting of a high priestess.”

He swiftly turned on his heel, heading down the steps and down the nave. Your heart beat loud and fast in your ears as you watched him walk away, unsure if he wanted you to follow. Stopping at the final pew he turned, long fingers of one hand beckoning you.

“Come along. You have work to do, little one.”

Part II here.

End Notes: There will be a part 2! Keep your eyes peeled- let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

I apologise if I got some aspects of the church wrong- I spent some time researching but I am in no way an expert.

Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

And as always, thank you for reading!

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