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buttoncup · 2 years

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Look at me, another update 🤭 lots of flying with a little Azriel NSFW at the end... FINALLY! (Also I don't care if it's not the best thing I've written, I needed to get this scene out my head) 😅🤣🙈. Enjoy x

GWYNRIEL HEADCANON CRESCENDO CHAPTER 8

Azriel pov Gwyn's shriek filled the sky and rang in his ears, his own laughter chased the sound through the air. She clutched his neck tight as her head buried itself in the front of his leathers, his body warmed at the movement. "You could've warned me you were just going to jump!" "I thought me holding you in my arms was warning enough" Gwyn raised her face and looked at him, a blue light reflecting in her large eyes from his siphoned chest, Azriel smirked and looked back to the sky, trying hard to concentrate on flying. He could feel her eyes still on him so he glanced down and she turned her gaze away quickly. Azriel smiled to himself. "Enjoying the view Berdara?" "From what I can see, yes... Velaris is truly beautiful isn't it?" He looked around them then and saw what she did, the lights, the colours, the trees, the mountains. His home was beautiful. He just never had the time to appreciate it. "Where are we going now?" Azriel had decided to take a longer route than usual as to draw the flight out a bit longer. Purely for Gwyn's enjoyment of course. Of course. His shadows whispered. "I thought you'd like to see the city centre, they're going to be setting up for Solstice soon." He pondered for a moment before continuing "Starfall comes first though but that was at the end of Spring". "Starfall?" Gwyn looked away from below and looked around her at the night's sky, pure wonder on her face. Azriel could see her freckles reflected in the moonlight. "It's a celebration of spirits passing through the worlds to make their way to the next, searching for whatever or whoever waits for them on the other side, they fly for however long it takes to get there. Nobody knows why" Gwyn glanced at Azriel again "Well that's awfully romantic" her hand was resting over his sternum near the cobalt siphon at his chest. Azriel blinked. He sucked in a breath and looked out before him, his wings slowing their pace. "That's what we are told anyway." He paused "have you seen them, the spirits?" "Unfortunately no, it would seem that every equinox I'm made to do some sort of service or an errand for Merril" Azriel didn't failt to see Gwyn roll her eyes at the name of her superior. "Do you not like partaking in services anymore? He tilted his head and arched a brow down at her. Gwyns face was one deep in thought. "I used to. When that was all I had to keep me going." She glanced up towards him before she carried on "then I suppose I have started to realise that I'm not that same person anymore. I was content with life at Sangravah. My life was to consist of becoming a High Priestess and that was my goal, because that's all I knew." "Hmmm, so, now you've had a taste of the rest of the world, you've grown greedy for more?" He chuckled. "I suppose I have Shadowsinger. My eyes have been opened to more than what I could ever imagine." "Why does that make you sad Priestess?" He asked quietly, his focus now wholly on her. "Not sad just, a tiny bit resentful if that's the right word? I didn't think I would feel so differently after training and meeting new people, seeing new things, going outside" her gaze flicked up to his and she smirked making Azriel huff a smile. "It only made me realise that my whole life I've been locked away from everything and now I want more. So yes, in other words I've grown greedy" Gwyn laughed, the sound making the cobalt on his chest glow softly. Azriel knew all too well how she felt so he said all he could at that moment. "I understand" she graced him with a small smile and her eyes seemed to brighten up again. You could show her the world Shadowsinger, his shadows teased. Azriel ground his teeth and set his jaw. Now. Is. Not . The . Time. "What's that over there?" Gwyn removed her hand from his chest to point overhead. Azriel smiled at her as she pulled herself higher up in his arms to see better. "That is the Rainbow" Her eyes widened and she smiled so pure and bright Azriel had no choice but to return it. "Why is it called

the Rainbow? apart from the obvious" Gwyn's eyes scanned below them taking In every brightly coloured building and her eyes shone at the sight, her breath hitched, a smile plastered over her full lips. "It's the epicentre of the arts, dancing, singing, music, painting, you name it, it's all there in one brightly coloured trail lining the Sidra" he directed her gaze to the body of water at the edge, you do not want to fall in there" he chuckled. "You speak from experience Shadowsinger?" Gwyn chuckled before she gave him an inquisitive look. "What, what are you scheming Berdara? The Priestess quirked her mouth and let her teal eyes drift towards his wings, "Do you swim? Azriel cocked a brow, not expecting her to ask him that. "Yes" "How?" " I mean I know how to swim, I am part nymph after all but how do you do it with those wings?" She asked. Azriel rolled his shoulders, his wings now growing a little tired from working so slowly, the action made Gwyn jump in his arms and let out a little shriek, her arm around his neck squeezed him tighter. "I swim like anyone else" "Don't they get in the way?" She bit her lip, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush that made Azriel bite his own lip, sensing her embarrassment, her scent changed, her heartbeat rising. Wait what. Her heartbeat. Her scent?! His eyes shot open wide. You feel her Shadowsinger. You are connected. Azriel coughed loudly, breaking the silence only to notice Gwyn staring at his lips before returning her attention to the water below. She giggled when his shadows twirled around her hair, loose tendrils of her molten hair flying around her in the wind, she reached out to play with them with her free hand and the shadows caressed her freckled hand as if pecking her skin with tiny kisses. "You don't mind them? Doing that?" He asked. Genuinely curious to know. "I like them, they're so friendly, how could I not?" She laughed again "they tickle!" The shadows zoomed from her open palm, flipping and curling in the air and returned to her hand like a loyal pet. "And they're cold but not enough to give me a chill! Pleasant little things" Gwyn crooned, his shadows danced at her words. Stop it you little flirts! "Hmmm" Azriel pursed his lips watching them gloat. "Although, they are devil's for unravelling my hair"! She squealed as the shadows were doing exactly that. Gwyn's hair now loose and unbound. The moonlight shining off her hair setting it alight like burnt sunshine, different tones of red mixed with auburn and brown. "Beautiful" Gwyns head snapped up to his "What?" Shit. "The sky" Azriel would smack himself in the head if he had a hand free. Thankfully Gwyn didn't seem to have noticed his little slip of the tongue . His shadows retreated back to his shoulders happy with the mischief they'd caused. "Oh, the sky? Yes, it's very... majestic. Impressive even." She smirked up at him, her teal eyes mocking him. "I thought I'd gotten away with it" Azriel shrugged. Gwyn laughed at his poor show of nonchalance. "Shadowsinger if you think my fragile feminine heart will be so easily won with a compliment then I shall surely disappoint. You are safe, do not fret, I haven't taken offence." Gwyn gave him a placating tap to his chest and looked away smiling to herself. "So you think I'm majestic" he scoffed, tearing her attention back to him. Gwyn's eyes narrowed and slowly scanned over him, his face, his hair, his wings. "I suppose to some, in certain light perhaps" she smiled playfully at him. Azriel barked a laugh his chest rising and falling making them both shake. "My how you wound me Priestess, for that you shall pay greatly" his eyes narrowed and a mischievous light flashed in his eyes, the shadows twisting around them. Azriel flicked his gaze to the Sidra below and back up to Gwyns eyes. Eyes now narrowing themselves to pierce his with her stormy gaze. "Don't even think about it Shadowsinger." She whispered, her eyes danced with mirth. Azriel jostled them both higher in the air and

twisted them in a circle, his wings beating faster, Gwyns head watching the ground become smaller and smaller as they rose. "Azriel, I'm warning you, If you wish to live a long and full life don't you dare do what you're about to do"! She squealed again as he stopped abruptly, hovering them both in the air, Gwyn's head tightly wedged to his chest. Azriel dared to unhook his arm that supported her legs to quickly meet the hand now at her back, letting her legs dangle freely. Gwyn grabbed both hands around his neck like a vice staring at him with such scorn Azriel laughed throwing his head back in the wind. "You wouldn't dare" "I think you know I would" Azriel stared at her lips for a second and she gasped. His eyes shot up to meet hers and she quickly turned away. She could smell your scent Shadowsinger. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Fine. Drop me. See if I care. In fact I'll just let go of you." An auburn brow arched in defiance. "Now hold on a second" he protested, his face now serious. "I think you'll find Shadowsinger, I've been holding on for some time now and I do have a very important meeting to go to in the morning" she smirked up at him. "Of course, Priestess." Azriel bowed his head with a smile and decided that there would be another chance for a spin in the sky. They flew the rest of the short way to the library in companionable silence, Gwyn leaned over his shoulder occasionally to see things that would catch her eye and he'd tried to not stare at the female in his arms. The bond is strong Shadowsinger. And I am stronger. I will be stronger he vowed silently. They landed gracefully at the entrance of the library and Azriel let Gwyn out from his grasp. She immediately straightened her robes and tried to untangle her hair but gave up within seconds huffing in annoyance letting the copper strands flow to the middle of her back. Azriel stood and watched as she tucked a piece of her hair behind an arched ear. "Well, tonight was certainly interesting. Thank you for the mini tour" she smiled softly. "Anytime" Azriel tucked his hands in his pockets "Goodnight" he bowed his head at the Priestess. "Goodnight" Gwyn gave him a small smile then turned to hurry up to the doors. Azriel stayed there until he could see her no more before jumping into the darkness calling him to sleep. His thoughts badgered him the whole flight back to the House of Wind and he didn't mind now that he had time to think by himself. She'd smelt his arousal. He was a fucking fool. Azriel wiped his hands over his jaw, he would've felt bad about it all had Gwyn shown any kind of negative reaction but she hadn't and he knew she'd not bring it up to stop the awkwardness that would surely entail. He hadn't scared her thank the Cauldron! Azriel thought back to how she'd held him when he'd dangled her legs and the thought made him shiver. His boots touched the surface of his balcony at last and he immediately went to his bathing chamber to run a hot bath. He quickly un-dressed and climbed into the warm water soothing his tired wings and rested his head on the edge of the tub letting his eyes flutter shut. He sighed, the noise echoing in the room, His body melting into the warmth surrounding him. The Spymaster groaned.

Azriel dunked his head under the water and came back up above the surface smoothing his dark hair back. His eyes drifted shut, his lids heavy. The Shadowsinger's mind replayed the image of Gwyn with her hair unbound, flying about her wildly, her smile radiant as she turned to him in his arms. The feel of her body so close to his, her arms around his neck. Azriel felt the blood rush to his lower region, his cock suddenly rock hard knocked against the hand that rested on his stomach. Azriel imagined it was a delicate pale hand that wrapped around his length pumping him just the way he liked. Not a hand that was smooth and un-calloused. No. He didn't stifle his roar of completion to the scent of Jasmine, but to the thought of a freckled hand and the scent of brown sugar and lavender.

@meher-sumedha @trashforazriel @sv0430 @imsointobooks @shisingh @vikingmagic33

#gwynriel #anti elain #anti elriel #gwyn acotar #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #azriel berdara #gwynriel supremacy

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Could you please write the prompts Stripped socks and Photos with Asmo from Obey Me? I think it fits him really well!

I think so as well :D Thank you for requesting ♥

Striped socks - “I can’t resist not having some part of you near me! You wore this today right?”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Whistling playfully, Asmo strolled down the long corridor towards his destination, passing by his brothers’ rooms with his ears taking in the different sounds coming from them. There was Levi’s room, video game sounds ringing from it. Satan’s room was as quiet as a cat. The jingling of coins from Mammon’s and laughter coming from Beel and Belphie’s room. Asmodeus stopped, holding his breath for a moment and leaning towards the wooden door of the twins tensely.

Between his brothers talking about food and the game you three were playing, your voice was the one Asmo recognized quickly. Even if you sat quietly most of the time, it was almost as if he could hear your heartbeat as clear as day. Feel your joy as if it was his own. When you did speak up, he felt his own heart swell from the beauty of your chuckles, every word you uttered so meaningful despite being small-talk at best. That’s how connected you two were, two hearts yearning for each other. A picturesque romance!

Fingertips brushing over the door, a longing sigh fell off his lips, wishing he could be inside with you, cuddle with you and kiss you, but it was Belphie’s night. He wouldn’t have given you up for anyone, especially not Asmodeus. It wasn’t Asmo’s virtue, but he felt the jealousy seething in his stomach, knowing that Belphie got to have fun with you while Asmodeus couldn’t. And as if that wasn’t enough, Beel was having his second night with you this week; he and Belphie having much more of you than any other brother since they worked together more often than separated.

Pretty unfair, how Asmodeus found. He’d have to go to bed alone tonight and not really in the mood to call a mere succubus over. Not when he could have had you in his bed instead. Not if it could have been you all along if not for the stupid rule they all agreed to in secret, that every brother could occupy your time for one night a week without the other’s interfering.

Sighing, Asmodeus moved on. It was too painful to stand and listen, always having to realize he wasn’t welcome at your side that night. The agreement was blatantly unfair. After all, even if he got a chance to keep you by his side for a night, it was so late into the week that you were already utterly exhausted after the four previous nights. Asmo did what he could to help you relax, but that ate up all the time he wanted to use to do other things with you. Innocent and less innocent things.

And then, he’d have another week of gloomily laying in bed - alone or not - wondering what you were up to. Sometimes he wondered how the others could keep themselves busy in their time off, but it wasn’t like Asmodeus had nothing to do. It all just wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with you.

Approaching his room, Asmodeus couldn’t help but sigh again, a sound unsuited for the self-assigned pretty boy. Hand laying down on the handle as his shoulders slumped in disappointment, Asmo wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and take you back with him. It was nerve-wreaking. You probably didn’t even know about all these conflicting feelings he had inside of him. The Avatar of Lust wasn’t meant to love someone so dearly as he loved you. It should have only been him, himself, and he for the rest of his long, long life. But now, no matter how good he could put up a farce, it was all about you.

Your face, your hair, your body, your eyes, your laugh, your touch, your taste, your soul, your heartbeat, your magic, your...

All about you. You and him.

And how good you were together.

Turning around, Asmo slowly let go of the handle, looking back over his shoulder. Your room across his was empty that night, he knew as much. Even if he slept there, you wouldn’t scold him, and perhaps he had to admit he was desperate enough to do it. Or he could just slip in and grab something to take back with him. Something that would help him through this painful week of waiting for you to return to his side. Nobody needed to know he was even there.

You were supposed to lock your door, with so many entities around that were practically drooling at the thought of you. And Mammon. Especially Mammon. Lucifer told you often enough to just lock up. Still, you swore up and down that it was an inconvenience, and it bothered you to single yourself out from the brothers. It was your fault Asmo could easily slip in, but it was his luck that you were stubborn.

No worries, even that was cute about you!

Looking left and right, Asmodeus didn’t take the chance of anyone finding him linger around, quickly making his entrance. Even with the light off, your room was softly illuminated by the fairy lights he put up back when it became apparent that there would be a guest staying long term. He thought you’d appreciate the cute and tiny lights since it was awfully dark down in the Devildom.

With his back against the door, he took a deep breath. It was amazing how your presence tainted the room. It had been bare and boring before, but now the air tasted like you, and that was all he could want. Humming happily, Asmo let his fingers glide over the amenities in passing, feeling their texture under his touch. Knowing that you were using them almost made him greedy. He could surprise himself with how much he wanted to just take them all and keep them to himself in his own room. But that would be a little too obvious, wouldn’t it?

So what should he take instead?

Your bath was now filled with products you received from him. It would be easiest to take back one of them. Even if he was found out, he could just say he needed it for his morning routine. Or your soap, so he could smell like you from head to toe! But no, that wasn’t enough to satisfy Asmodeus.

He needed more.

Asmo wanted to cuddle with you, hold you, kiss you, tease you, see your reactions... how could he do that without you? What else was there to even get close to the joy of holding you? Letting himself fall onto your bed, all it needed was a deep breath to make a smile creep onto his face. It was paradise. Here you were everywhere. Your pillow, your blanket, the stuffed animals you accumulated as presence from the brothers - they all were the closest to you he could get. Or were they?

Jolting up, Asmodeus looked around. The darkness wasn’t pleasant, but he prided himself on knowing his way around your room. After all, his nightly adventures sitting by the side of your bed, pushing the hair out of your sweet face tenderly had to be good for more than just having a moment with you unbothered by anyone. See, Asmodeus would have messed up his sleep schedule if it was for you. That’s just how special you were.

It pained him to crawl out of your bed, but he did it nonetheless, ever on the search for the thing. Even Asmo didn’t know what token would be enough to satisfy him. If it was for him, he could have gobbled everything up that belonged to you or just rest between your things instead to get a piece of mind. But there was this desire he held, to have something just for himself. A part of you, so to say.

Gliding to his knees in front of your basket laundry, Asmo’s hands began to shake both in excitement and hesitation. There was this one aspect that differentiated you from Asmodeus so much. Everything about him had to be perfect all the time. Asmo couldn’t stand the thought of doing something and not looking pretty or at least cute while at it. You were normal in comparison. At times you’d get muddy or wear your outfits twice, never wondering what others would think. He just wanted to coddle you with how cute your innocence was, but it also aggravated him that anything could sully you.

And yet, your clothes were his best options, weren’t they? He lifted the lid and sighed in relief that you hadn’t done the laundry that day. The first thing he pulled out was a lucky reach already, as he felt the soft material of your shirt. It wouldn’t fit him as well as it did you, but surely, Asmo would look cute in your clothes, right?

Bringing it up to his nose, there it was again, your scent, the ultimate confirmation that you were real and alive. Asmo couldn’t restrain himself, rubbing the fabric against his cheek and brushing it with his lips, honoring it for doing a service to the both of you. This was it, the chosen object he’d keep all to himself. He’d put it on his pillow and lay it beside him so he’d never be alone again.

He was wholly immersed in the thought of you wearing this shirt, how cute it fit you and how you were handling it. The only thing that finally tore him out of it was when a cone of light fell over him, the door opening. “Be right back!” you shouted before you stepped in. Just when you were about to close the door, your eyes fell on him, kneeling on your floor in front of the laundry basket, holding your white shirt, and you halted, mouth opening in surprise.

“Asmo... deus?” you mumbled, and oh god, it had been so long since he heard his name from your lips. Since dinner at least.

“Ah,” he hummed, smile back on his face just because he was able to see your face once more that day. “Welcome back.”

Was it too abstruse to welcome you back to your own room that he was in without permission?? Asmo wondered as you two stared at each other, your lovely gaze slowly but surely falling to the shirt in his hands that he gripped a bit tighter as a reaction. “What are you doing... with this?”

Even confused you were so cute!

“You see,” he chuckled, supporting himself into a stand. “I can’t resist not having some part of you near me! You wore this today, right?”

Holding up the shirt, he walked over, fitting it onto your chest while you stared at him, unbelieving. “I think so...?” was all you could mumble as you looked up at him with more questions than answers. “Sweet, I’ll borrow this then!” he giggled, knowing fully well he’d never give it back. Maybe he’d need more someday, but you couldn’t have this shirt back ever. Leaning forward, he gave you a long kiss to the cheek, taking your silence as an okay to take what he wanted before passing you by.

Sure, if Asmo could, he’d rather have you, but this was the next best thing. He couldn’t break the promise with his brothers to take you with him for the night, but he could pretend it was you in his arm instead of the piece of fabric. You didn’t really seem mad, much more dumbfounded as he left you there in the doorway. However, Asmodeus didn’t fear you getting upset about what he took from you that night.

After all, if you did get upset, you’d have to come to him if you wanted it back, and he’d only exchange it for something of equal value, just like any demon would.

A real piece of you just for himself.

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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Can you do poly!Lau and RanMao with prompt 53? Thank you <3

Yo! Lau and Ran Mao are one of my favorite duos in Black Butler and without a doubt a poly!relationship I would love to be in💘. I also changed the prompt a bit due to two persons saying it.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, kidnapping, drugging, being tied up

Prompt 53: “It is funny that you think you can actually leave us.”

"Don't you like the tea? Your face looks awfully much displeased." You quickly waved one of your hands, not wanting to be impolite whilst being invited by one of the people you had happened to meet through Ciel whilst working in the manor temporarily. "That's not it. It doesn't taste all too bad. It's just a bit...bitter.", you decided to say, realizing that it still sounded pretty fastidious. "Is that so? It was a new flavor since I added some strong herbs in hopes it would taste good. I apologize. Ran Mao, would you be so friendly to give our guest here a bit sugar?"

The girl just nodded, putting her tea cup down and grabbing the container with the sugar before standing up from Lau's lap and stepping next to your side. You hadn't bothered to ask why she was doing this all the time, but since Lau didn't seem to mind, you hadn't asked. Maybe you were a bit embarassed to do so, you didn't want to make yourself feel uncomfortable. But over time you had learned to not pay too much attention to it.

"Thank you, Ran Mao. You didn't have to stand up just to give me this. The container was only a few inches away-" You had your hands stretched out, wanting to grab the bowl with sugar from Ran Mao. But instead she suddenly started pouring at least the half of the sugar into your tea cup. "...from me.", you finished the sentence, staring a bit dumbfounded at what had been once tea. Ran Mao tilted her head confused, not understanding why you looked so taken aback. "No...sugar?", she asked, the sentence sounding somewhat broken. "Too much sugar.", you replied, stirring the viscous and brown mush, out of pure criosity tasting a bit of it before twisting your face. Now it was too sweet, though the strange aftertaste was still dancing faintly on your tongue.

You just put the tea down, deciding to turn your attention back to Lau and Ran Mao, who had by now sat back down on Lau's lap. "Do you want new tea? I prepared a lot more of it. Or do you wish for something else?" You shook slightly your head, not needing more tea. "It's nice of you to ask, but I'll decline. I have everything I need. And I'm sure that you wanted to talk about something with me, didn't you?"

Lau gave you a small and mysterious smile, being satisfied that you had figured that much out. "Ran Mao and me did indeed. We heard from Ciel that now that your job is done in the manor, you were planning on returning home. It saddened us to hear this information. We both became very fond of you these past few months." You scratched the back of your head, a small feeling of sadness and guilt yourself blossoming in your chest. "I'm upset myself, you know? I really started liking my time here, but I can't do nothing about it. I have my own master wating home for me. I was only supposed to work with the young lord until the agreement between the Phantomhive company and my master's company is completely planned and also agreed on from both masters. And now that this happened, I'm finished."

You folded your hands together and stuck them between your knees, staring down at your lap. "My master wants me home fast as well. I need to hurry up, don't have much time." Lau had put by now his cup of tea down as well, looking at you through his closed eyes. You had the feeling that he was observing you a bit. "You don't really seem to like your master. If I remember right, you told me once that you wished he was more like the young Earl." You were a bit surprised that he still could recall this, you had almost forgotten about it by now, most likely because you had mentioned it ore incidentally. "You have quite the good memory. To be honest with you, I really don't like my master that much. He is strict, mean and sometimes just expects too much from his servants. It's tiring and those last few months were such a luxury for me. But tomorrow morning that all will be over." You sounded almost a bit wistfully. Why wouldn’t you? Tomorrow you would be stripped of all the free time you used to have all these last months.

“You could stay here.” You chuckled a bit when hearing this, thinking he was just trying to lift your mood a bit. “I would love to stay, but I don’t want to have my ears pulled by my master for doing this. It would end with me having to scrub a whole room until I’ll feel like my bones won’t be able to support my weight anymore. I had to do it one time, couldn’t move properly for a few weeks without feeling the tightening stiffness. And I had to skip one night of sleep and only was able to be met with my bed the following night since I had to work the day as well. But maybe my lord will let me visit sometimes. It isn’t like I don’t want to never see you again. I’ll definitely write letters though, that much my master will allow me to do.”

“Your master doesn’t sound like he’s a very pleasant person to be around.”, Lau commented, the smile still gracing his features whilst Ran Mao was staring motionlessly at you with her golden eyes. “He isn’t. But he’s the one who pays me and next to that I also have my friends there. I can’t leave them alone with that man or else they’ll totally collapse. I’m the most experienced one in my household. I have no choice, but to go back.”

“Stay.” Hearing that from Ran Mao was a bit heartbreaking, knowing that she didn’t speak much and for her to say such a thing meant that she really wanted you to not go. She still didn’t have much of a facial expression on her face, but she had started leaning forward, her big eyes drilling almost into you. Lau was doing the same thing, only that his eyes were closed. It never ceased to fascinate you how he was able to make a person feel the intensity of his starre whilst his eyelids were closed. You swore that it made you feel slightly dizzy.

“See? Even Ran Mao here wishes you to stay. I’m sure that your master wouldn’t mind too much if you would just resign. I informed myself a bit about him, he seems like the type to just catch a new fish as soon as an old one disappeared.”

“Wait? You informed yourself about my master? Why?” You had started feeling a bit funny by now, trying to stay focused. You didn’t want to worry the two of them.

“Because I was a bit curious when I heard that Ciel would have a new servant coming to join him for a bit of time since the lord himself was bound to bed. He seems like a rather despicable man if you ask me.

“I admit that he isn’t the best lord to have, but I’m still working under him and he is still the man I have to serve and respect every day and who pays me in return. So I can’t complain too much. I doubt I would find that quickly another place to work at, not with him and his vengeful character. Next to that I’m afraid that it’ll affect the contract between the Phantomhive and him. I worked too hard for this to have it break apart because I went missing.” You felt a bit too lightheaded, your mind starting to spin and you were by now sure that this wasn’t from their gazes. Had you perhaps done a mistake tasting the mush made of sugar and the tea?

“I can assure you that he wouldn’t do that. I even had a talk with Ciel about this one time before. Your lord is more of a greedy type and his company was slowly starting to collapse. The collaboration between his and Ciel’s company saved him before any real damage could be caused. He won’t risk losing his support pillar and I doubt he really cares much about his servants.”

“Do you have to say it like this? It-it sounds a bit harsh.”, you slowly mumbled out, a weird feeling having started to spread and fill every pore of your body, giving you the feeling that your whole body had started to relax and feeling more numb. The dizziness had gotten stronger as well, making you grip the fabric of the clothes a bit tighter, narrowing your eyes in hopes of getting rid of the feeling.

“It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth. There are a lot of better people out there with which you could live and who would treat you better.”

“And who would that be? Do you mean the young master Ciel? Do you think he would take me in?” You couldn’t help, but blur those words out, your thoughts having suddenly becoming a bit too twisted for you to make sense of them anymore. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you scolded yourself for having said that, but you seemed to not be able to process anymore what you were saying or doing or what was happening around you anymore.

“The young Ciel certainly seems to be a better master to have. But I was thinking about someone else who would love to have you with them and take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work anymore.” You looked with clouded eyes at them, barely being able to keep them open anymore. You were feeling too drowsy and sitting on a comfy couch made you play with the thought of just laying down and taking a nap. You actually shouldn’t do this, you had to pack your things and head for the next train to travel all the way back, but your normally so dutiful attitude seemed to get drowned by this weird, tingling feeling inside of you. You wondered if you were drunk, but you hadn’t consumed anything that had alcohol in it.

“And who would that be?”, you slurred out, trying to stand up only to collapse right away back into the softer fabric of the couch. Your legs felt weirdly wobbly, but you still tried to somehow manage to stand straight up and walk out of here, your inner clock managing to get your body to move. You had to finish packing your things.

“I was thinking about Ran Mao and me. We both seem to care for you a lot and it was shocking for us to hear that you were leaving so suddenly. We were planning on spending a lot more time with you, weren’t we Ran Mao?”, Lau answered, glancing at Ran Mao who hadn’t stopped looking away from you for once. The girl just nodded, starting to move upon noticing that you had forgotten how to walk. In any other scenario you would have felt ashamed, but currently everything seemed and felt a bit...strange.

“It’s nice from you to say this, but I have to hurry up now. Or else I’ll gonna get in troubles from the stupid old man. Wouldn’t want that. Gotta hurry up an’ catch ma train.” You had somewhat manages to support half of your weight on the couch whilst limping with the rest of your body slowly away from them. “(y/n), I don’t think you should go. You won’t be able to stay conscious for too long and I also don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly.”, Lau called after you, sounding half-amused as well as a bit worried.

“Don’t tell me what I can do and what not. I have to leave now.”, you whined in a childish tone before your knees gave away under you. But before you could make contact with the ground, Ran Mao was quick to catch you, her eyes glancing slightly concerned over you before turning to Lau, who had started walking over to you. “You don’t have to worry Ran Mao. They’ll be fine. The medicine I gave them shouldn’t cause them any feelings of nausea or headaches. Only dizziness and the feeling of being a bit high. They should fall asleep any moment now.”

“Medicine? Which medicine?”, you asked, hanging in Ran Mao’s arms like a sleepy little kitten. “The one I put in your tea, dear. It’s the reason your tea tasted so bitter before. You won’t leave London after all. Or us. It is funny that you think you can actually leave us.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you started panicking when you heard him saying these things. He had drugged you! You had to run! But your mind was too foggy to let this information sink in by now and you also felt too tired to care. Ran Mao had additionally to that started to caress your head, the small soothing gesture only making your eyes feel even more heavy.

“How are you feeling?” You barely heard Lau asking you this question. “Tired.”, you mumbled out, having by now totally loosened up in Ran Mao’s hold, who was still holding you. “Then sleep. We’ve already prepared a room for you to stay in.”

You felt his gentle fingers brushing along your jawline and you unconsciously even leaned a bit closer to him, liking the feeling of it.

“Don’t worry, Ran Mao and me will take great care of you. You won’t have to work anymore, won’t have to endure anyone bossing you around anymore or about earning money. We’ll take care of anything for you. Right, Ran Mao?” She seemed to press you closer against her chest, but you were only one point of a knife away from falling asleep so you might as well have mistaken this. But you still heard her muttering her answer out. “Yes.” That was the last thing you heard before you just finally allowed yourself to slide away in your temporary dreamland, though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you would wake up to discover a bad surprise.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere lau #yandere ran mao

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obae-me · 4 years

Note

Hi sweetheart! I was wondering if I could request for a headcannon about Solomon casting a spell and suddenly all the brothers turn into lil smol kids? and how would MC take care of/interact with them? I just neeeeeed some fluff in my life, and the idea of tiny demons makes my heart explode. hope you have a great week! ♥️

Hi, thank you for this request, I had to write it immediately. The fluff, the softness, it’s exactly what I needed to write today, I hope this is good fluff for you! 💜

There’s a bit of exposition because I had some strong creativity for it, after it is the Headcanons!

“So what exactly is this supposed to do again?” MC asked, watching as Solomon sprinkled some strange herbs and unknown ingredients into a large glass beaker, occasionally muttering a few words and casting spells while the mixture sparkled. They were both in MC’s room, Solomon teaching them some spells and magic in exchange for some quality time together.

“It’s a youth potion,” Solomon explained. “I used to make it for other humans. The elderly used my diluted versions to help with pain or memory. However…” He dumped an entire jar of some sort of sickly pulsating liquid that had the same rainbowy shimmer that spilled oil had. “Demons don’t typically age the same way humans do, so sometimes they ask me for this so they can blend in with children. However, diluted versions won’t affect anything down here. So be careful. One wrong drop on you and it won’t be pleasant.” He watched as the contents in the container started to condense and squeeze through a tube before landing in a little glass bottle. Solomon tightly shoved a cork into it’s opening and then closed his eyes, chanting a spell. What had been a gross metallic color was now a perfect clear concoction, little sparkling bubbles endlessly fizzing throughout. “And there you have it.” He smirked, flipping the bottle in the air before catching it perfectly, putting it in one of his pants pockets. With a wave of his hand, all of his stuff that he had used to make the potion vanished.

MC shook their head. “This wasn’t exactly what I thought we would be doing when you said you were going to come over and show me magic. I’d lie if I said it wasn’t cool, though.” They went over and opened their bedroom door, Solomon following them out into the hallway. “Can I come deliver it with you?”

“You know how dangerous my drop-offs can be, can you show me that you’ve perfected that defensive spell I taught you last week?” Solomon looked down at them with a smile, hand curled around his chin. MC sighed, they weren’t even nearly close to casting that spell well, much less perfectly. Solomon apologized with a laugh as they both headed down the stairs to the front entrance.

“Oi, you done fooling around with MC yet?” They both saw Mammon leaned against the wall as he watched the stairs, a scowl on his face. Ever since the sorcerer had been coming more often to see MC, Mammon had been much more hostile towards him. Solomon didn’t mind, in fact he got a rise out of seeing Mammon get so jealous.

“Yes, Mammon, I’m just about to leave.”

Mammon grinned and swung the doors wide open, gesturing for Solomon to get out. “Great, here’s the door, bye now!”

Solomon looked at MC with a smile, bringing them close into a hug, squinting at Mammon over their shoulder as he soaked in the look Mammon had on his face. He pulled apart and MC was none the wiser on their interaction behind their back. “Wish me luck with the drop-off.”

MC exclaimed to him how they wished him all the luck in the three realms, and Mammon moved out of his way to personally bump shoulders with Solomon as he made his way out the door. Neither of the humans had noticed Mammon’s pickpocketing skills as he slipped an important small bottle into his own pocket.

***

“Is there any particular reason why you’re not eating?” Lucifer questioned, watching MC play with their food instead of eating it.

MC snapped out of a little daze, bringing a halt to shoving around their meal with their fork. “Ah, oh, I guess I’m just thinking about something.”

Mammon growled. “What you don’t want to taste the food I slaved over making for everyone today?” He opened his mouth, probably to say something snarky about Solomon, but Satan interrupted him.

“Speaking of what you made, what did you put in it? It’s making me awfully nostalgic. I can’t help but think of meals from centuries ago.” He said it with a slight smile on his face. All of the brothers minus Lucifer voiced their agreement. Whatever it was, it brought back sweet memories, some of them going back and forth between stories of what being first created was like. MC leaned back in their chair, trying to comprehend what it would be like to just...exist fully without having to go through childhood.

Mammon grinned, one hand on his hips. “See I knew it would be great, and it’s all thanks to my genius.” He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it between his fingers as he waved it around in the air. “I knew whatever that sketchy sorcerer had on him had to be good.” MC’s body froze, eyes focused on the bottle Mammon possessed, the same size and style of the one Solomon had put in his pocket. The only difference was the contents were missing.

MC opened their mouth, ready to demand that everyone stop eating, but unfortunately it was already too late. The only thing Mammon had done perfectly was time his reveal right before the potion went into effect, all the brothers bowling over and collapsing to the ground. Their clothes and bodies magically shifting into miniature versions of themselves.

Lucifer

He was the first to get up, taking in the now larger scale of everything around him. Noticing especially how MC was on their knees beside him and yet was at the same height level. He felt the lungs in his chest tighten, now looking at his younger brothers, who...were now all exceptionally young. All looking like humans did at around the age of five. He screamed Mammon’s name, but cut himself off short when he heard what his voice sounded like now, his small hands cupping his own throat. He looked at MC once more, seeing the reflection of his child-like body in their eyes. His pride might as well have been shattered on the ground. Before he was seen in this embarrassing state any further, he sped off to his room.

He did his best to prevent MC from following him into his bedroom by leaning into the door with his own body. He was even more crushed to find not only did he not have most of his power, but he was extremely weak and vulnerable. Not to mention he was feeling raw emotions. He would control himself, he had to control himself. When MC came into the room they saw him standing there with his best attempt at a death glare, arms folded across his tiny red vest.

It didn’t do nearly what he wanted it to. MC saw the small Lucifer, his usually sharp-edged face now covered in soft curves, his piercing eyes now hidden behind floppy hair too big for his head. He didn’t even seem to realise his lips were in a strong pout. MC almost felt like crying looking at him, and they stifled a laugh.

Being laughed at was the final cut at his pride already barely hanging on by a flimsy string. This form he had now was unable to control emotions like his typical body could. Big tears started rolling down his face as he ran towards MC, his only thought being comfort.

“Don’t laugh at me! Change me back!” He wailed. MC scooped him up in their arms, apologizing deeply about laughing. They pet his small head, feeling two nubs poking out from under his hair where he usually had his horns when he was in demon form. Once he let all of his emotions out, he dried his own eyes and calmed down.

His new state didn’t keep him from being any less bossy, standing there, barely up to MC’s waist, head held high as he continued to try to tell MC and his brothers what to do. He didn’t like having MC be the head of the house, at all, even though they now had to take care of all of them. If MC has to tell him to stop hitting Mammon or go to bed, he’ll usually throw a tantrum. He will not be told what to do, he’s not a child, he’s not! MC takes this time to give the Prideful First-born Demon a scolding, and after the first few times he’s forced to sit in timeout, he begrudgingly obeys MC for the rest of the curse.

He’ll do his best as the older brother to help MC take care of everyone, but he’ll end up being one of the most needy. He’ll follow MC around, copying them, doing exactly what they’re doing. If MC tells one of the brothers to do something, he’ll repeat them, doing the same gesture in order to regain a more authoritative status. He likes to also stand on tables and chairs, he needs to be above everyone.

Until he’s back to normal, MC puts him to bed at the same time every night, helping him change into smaller versions of his PJ's (delivered thanks to Diavolo). The only way he can fall asleep is if MC sings old lullabies he hasn’t heard in millennia.

Mammon

When he woke up, he didn’t really comprehend the new change in his form. He was blind to the fact that he had accidentally turned himself and his brothers into children. He still wasn’t done feeling angry about Solomon, being greedy over who MC spends their time with. When he saw MC, he strutted up to them, not understanding that MC now towered over him. He put his hands on his hips, chewing MC out for hanging out with the sorcerer. His filter in his childish state was even worse, almost nonexistent, and he called Solomon by words that should not be coming out of any tiny mouth.

“Mammon!”

Hearing that almost degrading stern tone coming from MC made him stop in his tracks. He tilted his head back to look up at them. Since when did he have to look up that much? Since when had the furniture in his home been so big? He looked around at the other little chaotic bodies in the room, finally connecting that the little tykes were his brothers. He grabbed the bottom of MC’s shirt.

“What did Solomon do to us?!”

“Solomon didn’t do anything, did you steal his potion?” MC had their arms folded like a much too familiar older brother of his, looking at him with a frown. They sounded...disappointed. He started to blink away moisture he didn’t comprehend was tears. MC had to repeat themselves. “Mammon, did you steal from Solomon, yes or no?” He stuttered out a quiet yes, looking down at the floor.

MC rubbed the sides of his little arms and turned him around to look at the rest of his siblings who seemed to be waiting. Most of them looked angry, ready to beat Mammon down with their tiny fists, but MC ordered them all to stay there and listen. If it weren’t for the fact that somehow now MC seemed much scarier, they wouldn't be obedient. MC told Mammon to apologize to them since he got them all in this predicament in the first place. He stood there for a long time, doing his best to bribe his way out of the situation, but MC wouldn’t budge. When he finally said his sorries, he did so with a waterfall of tears, turning and crying into MC’s leg, explaining that he only did this because he didn’t want Solomon to steal MC away anymore.

During the time they’re all affected, MC realizes exactly why Lucifer is always so hard on Mammon. He just never stops. He’s a ball of energy, always getting into something, always leaving a mess wherever he goes. MC has their hands full just keeping up with him.

He never wants to share toys with his brothers, and MC oftentimes has to get everyone something of their own so Mammon doesn’t steal. He also somehow got into MCs phone and used their information to buy several things off of Akuzon. MC punished him by locking away all his toys. It didn’t last long, however, because Mammon kept whimpering, fluttering his long eyelashes over his big shimmering gold-speckled eyes. He’d endlessly call MC’s name over and over again, cuddling into them and begging for his stuff back. Just his soft adorable face alone could get MC to give him anything he wanted.

Mammon is always with MC, and he’ll get angry over anyone who wants to play with them. He wanted them! He did! The only reason why this happened was because he wanted to be with them. So he didn’t want anyone else around.

MC puts him to sleep by rubbing his back over his little fragile wings and sings sleepy songs about the stuff they’ll buy for him.

Levi

He was absolutely mortified. It took him awhile just to get to his feet, he was shaking so badly with embarrassment. As if he wasn’t already self conscious enough, now he was...he was. He snuck away and hid while MC was distracted with his six other insane brothers. He didn’t want to be like that, he didn’t want to be a bother. He didn’t want to be a needy child! And yet he could feel his tiny body filled with Envy. The way MC was holding, coddling, and taking care of everyone else, why weren’t they doing that for him?

When MC went looking for him, they followed the sound of small sniffles. It wouldn’t have been hard to find him anyway, since his big hiding place was in the comfort of his room. He was huddled under his gaming desk, clutching a Ruri-chan plushie to his cheek, speckled in his tears. When MC called his name he scattered to another corner of his room, pulling his tiny hood over his tiny face. He wanted to get into his tub-bed, but he couldn’t even pull himself in.

“Levi, do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”

He shook his head vigorously, managing to make himself seem so small he was hidden behind the plushie he was gripping. He didn’t seem to want to speak so MC had to play the guessing game. He wasn’t upset over Mammon, he wasn’t upset at anyone else, and then when MC asked if he was upset about himself, he got real quiet. MC consoled him by telling him this was a temporary setback, something akin to the shows he watches. It was just a filler episode, not a major plot point, so he had nothing to worry about. Normally this would’ve helped cheer him up just fine, but it wasn’t enough, so MC had to bribe him out of hiding by telling him they would watch all the shows he wanted until he was better.

When he came out, he rushed to them, burying his face in their clothes and cried so hard he gave himself the hiccups. MC was confused, thinking that they were trying their best to convince him to feel better, not to sob. MC did their best to make him feel better, rocking back and forth with him in their arms, rubbing his back, even turning on his consoles so he could play. He only felt satisfied when he thought he was getting the same amount of attention his brothers were getting.

He’s the biggest crybaby and the epitome of the “it’s not fair” child. If Mammon has more toys than him, he’s going to cry. If MC tells him he has to go to his room, he’s going to cry. If Beel ends up eating some of his food, yep, he’s going to cry. MC has a panic attack over how dehydrated this kid is going to be and has to constantly give him water to drink.

The only time he’s relatively happy is when MC has him in their lap as they hang out in his room, playing a game or watching a show. The best way to get him to sleep is to put on a documentary. Puts him out like a light.

Satan

When he woke up, it was like all hell had broken loose, and that could mean either figuratively or literally at this point. He was a tiny ball of rage. No later than five seconds of consciousness before he was on top of Mammon ready to kill him for turning them all to kids. He was definitely that kid who solved problems with fights. MC had to quickly rush over and pick him up only to have Satan kicking, punching, and screaming. He flailed in their arms, and MC had to drag him into a private room to quickly get things straight.

“I know this is inconvenient, and I know you’re angry, but no kicking, no punching, I don’t want to see you lay a hand on anyone, understand?”

He did understand, logically, but no matter what he tried telling his brain, his body didn’t want to follow. Even as his normal self it was hard keeping all that anger under control, and now as this...this...thing he was, all he wanted to do was scream. So scream he did, he shrieked for hours, MC doing their best to keep him safe as he tore up and almost destroyed his own room. He yelled so loudly for so long he lost his voice, resorting then to something he didn’t know was an option. Angry tears.

He took the bottom of his small green shirt and balled it up in his hands, looking confused as wet drops fell from his face. His voice now gone, all that was left was squeaks as his tiny frame started to shudder. He let MC hold him tight as he cried, scrunching up the fabric of their clothes tightly as all the pent up emotion he usually kept inside him had no choice but to keep flooding out of his eyes. MC shushed him, trying to tell him that this was an experience that would benefit his education and curiosity.

It took him a long long time to calm down, but when he did, his demeanor was similar to the one MC was most used to, the quiet curious Satan. Occasionally MC did have to keep him from losing his temper, doing their best to not have to scream at the small demon for having knives or breaking things. But most of the time he read books, books that were too big for his now smaller hands to hold. He either had the book wide open in his lap, or he had MC hold it for him as he sat in their lap. MC adored how he would tilt his head back against their chest, looking at them while politely asking them to turn the page. On the rare occasion, sometimes MC would find Satan outside, using a stick to pick at bugs in the dirt, watching how they move. They would’ve almost found it cute till they realized he was using them to fight to the death. MC monitors him anytime he’s outside now.

He’s the hardest to get to sleep, he’s always asking MC endless questions. MC is never sure if he’s testing their knowledge or asking them in earnest. Either way, it’s always way too late in the night for wondering what the world would be like if giraffes were as popular as a common household cat. He always needs a warm hot chocolate, a boring book, and MC’s angelic patience before he’ll finally drift to sleep.

Asmo

When he regains consciousness and looks at himself in the mirror after the event, he cannot get over how adorable he is. He looks so squeezable and huggable. But then...he feels...hollow? While all the other sins are things that are easily available as kids, his...is gone. He’s missing those...adult urges he’s so used to feeling. His normal burning desire, his flirtation, his charm, all vanished along with his adult appearance. He almost takes this harder than Lucifer. He’s not sure how to act, how to feel, his whole life in the Devildom was driven around his core sin.

MC is infinitely concerned when Asmo doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak, doesn’t know how to, well, how to do anything. They do their best to cheer him up with the other things he loves. They dress him up in adorable clothes, they pet his head and tell him how cute he is, but this is enormously hard for him. The typically boisterous Asmo was now nonchalant.

It takes a while for MC to convince him that he is Asmo, he is not his sin. He might be more easily persuaded by it, but that’s not all there is to him. They hold his whole tiny face in their hands, thumbs rubbing his wet cheeks dry. They tell him they miss his bubbly nature, his cute voice, his endless compliments, his sweet disposition. They want Asmo back. This little speech with added cuddles brings Asmo back for the most part.

He’s the sweetest little kid MC has ever met. He’s always cheering his brothers up, pulling off doll fashion shows, and making sure MC feels appreciated. He wants to be in their arms almost 24/7, wanting to be carted around if MC can manage. This whole experience causes him to feel something in his chest that makes him feel a kind of warm and fuzzy that he’s never felt before. It’s not lust...but something sweeter, more innocent and he’s not sure what to call it.

MC almost was going to reward him for being the best kid in the household till they spent hours helping him get clean after he did his best to do a spectacular makeover. He was unaware of how hard it was to maneuver these bodies, and now his face and room was a mess. MC was just thankful that the mess was on him and he didn’t attempt to give MC the makeover.

Asmo will only sleep with MC holding him. Something about the cold darkness of his room when he’s alone makes him panic. He likes being able to feel comforted, hearing MC’s heartbeat while they work on smothering him in adorable chaste kisses, his little giggles adorably addicting. That same warm feeling in his heart letting him feel comfortable enough to shut his eyes and get some rest.

Beel

He woke up holding onto Belphie’s hand only to find that the hand he was holding was much smaller than he remembered. Upon further discovery, all of Belphie was much smaller than he remembered. It takes him a few minutes to connect the dots since he was getting distracted on the food still on the dinner table, but once he figures it out, he just blinks. He’s the only one fairly calm about it. Sure he’s upset, but he likes to be an optimist, and by being this small, all his portions of food are all that much bigger.

His size does end up being an inconvenience for him, though. Most of his favorite snacks are high on the shelves in hard to reach cupboards. Not to mention now MC refuses to let him near the stove, so he can’t cook himself anything. He eats more than any human child should and yet he feels like he’s starving.

He can’t help but run to MC and softly beg for more snacks, gently tugging on their clothes. Most of the time, MC obliges, petting his soft red hair while he eats his food and lets his legs dangle off the edge of his seat. Until he starts letting his gluttony take over and steals his sibling’s snacks.

MC tried punishing him by taking away dessert privileges that night, not knowing what kind of monster they unleashed when they told him no. His shining eyes went darker, and the best mannered kid MC knew went sour in a heartbeat. He threw a massive demonic tantrum, screaming, throwing food and plates, causing MC to break down and give him what he wanted, drying his tears with an exasperated sigh while they now had to clean up broken glass and wipe down the entire kitchen.

He was the easiest to take care of in every other aspect, though, as long as he wasn’t denied food. He’d help MC and Lucifer watch his brothers, breaking up fights and comforting them when they cry. He would squeeze each of them tightly, as supportive as ever. He would even still do his best to protect MC in his state. Even as tiny as he was he still put his whole body into his hugs, acting like MC wasn’t now twice the size he was. He would clean up his messes without MC having to ask, and he’d go to bed as long as he had a bedtime snack and a glass of warm milk. He’d insist on tucking Belphie into bed, and then sweetly wish MC goodnight.

Belphie

He took forever to wake up, almost giving MC a heart attack wondering if he had been put into some sort of infantile coma. He eventually got up, opening his eyes to himself in MC’s arms. He wasn’t going to complain, they were very comfortable. When he realized he now resembled a small child...he was too tired to complain. He never did anything different from his normal form anyway. Sleep, eat if he needed to, be highly slothful and irritated. He was so similar to his usual mood, it amused MC greatly. They didn’t want to say that this meant he was always a baby but...the facts were right in front of them.

Adult, child, it didn’t matter, he was going to be monotone, demanding, and sleep as much as possible. In fact, now that he didn’t have responsibilities and Lucifer breathing down his neck, he was sleeping more than usual, and he demanded that MC carry him. If he was awake and MC ever put him down, he would cry until he got picked back up, comfortably against MC’s hip, face nestled in MC’s neck. It makes it so much harder for MC to get stuff done, but they can’t give up the feeling of his little eyelashes and bangs brushing against their skin, the smallest hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. Plus, if they do anything he doesn’t like, he’ll pull on their hair, so it's best to keep him happy.

The first night they had changed, MC put Belphie in his own bed, tucked him in and wished him sweet dreams, and once they were sure all the brothers were asleep, they went to their room and went to bed for the night, absolutely exhausted. Not even an hour after they went to bed, they felt a large weight on their body. They opened their eyes and saw Belphie, his skin shining in the moonlight from tears.

“Bad dream?”

He nodded, making a small sniffling noise. MC lifted up the blankets, letting him crawl in. He got close to them, keeping the fabric of their pajamas in a death grip. MC put their arm around him, making him feel safe and sleepy. He dried his tears and shut his eyes, not having any nightmares during the night.

Only, now, he won’t go to sleep in his own bed, it has to be with MC. Of course, this makes all the brothers jealous, and so after one night of some semblance of peace is resulted in seven little demon brothers all bundled up close together, each needy for MC’s warmth and attention.

After

It was an entire week before Solomon came back with the completed antidote for the potion. It tasted disgusting, and MC and Solomon had to wrangle all the demons, holding them down to get them to take it. It was surprising after all their frustration towards their position that they would be hesitant to return to normal.

After they’re back in their normal bodies, each of them are as red as tomatoes, looking at the floor instead of MC’s face. None of them will mention what happened, even if MC tries to tease them about it, they act like they have amnesia. None of them remember all the photos that MC had taken of them, nor do they know about all the ones they’ve shared to Diavolo.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

no time to die — tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x female!reader

prompt: "i'd fallen for a lie, you were never on my side."

a/n: this was inspired by the song no time to die by billie eilish so i highly highly recommend listening to that while reading! the prompt/lyric itself isn’t in the actual text but it was based off of it eeee anyways enjoy

It should never have come to this.

She’d warned him, time and time again, that if he didn't stop, she would have to interfere. Whether he liked it or not.

He never listened, of course. He’d said the same thing he always did: that everything he was doing was leading to something much, much bigger than she would ever be able to imagine. Never quite specifying what it was, exactly, but [Y/N] wasn't dumb—she knew Tom wasn't up to any good.

It was during his fifth year that she first tried to confront him about it, only to no avail. Tom had told her not to worry, putting on that same facade of complete composure that he'd used to fool so many others into believing that he was nothing but the picture-perfect student he made himself out to be. [Y/N] saw right through it, as she'd done so many times before.

They’d first met when they were eleven and grew closer ever since. Tom, she supposed, knew right off the bat that he wasn't fooling her; it was clear in the way she looked at him, so full of doubt and suspicion, that she wasn't easily fooled, young as she was. It should have made him want to avoid her, but instead he only grew curious, and before he knew it they'd become something akin to friends, growing more and more intimate with the passing of time even though neither of them ever quite addressed it.

The two of them cared for each other, that much was certain. She wasn't sure how deeply Tom cared for her, but she knew that she would do anything for Tom. Or at least whatever she thought was best for him.

And maybe it was for that reason that [Y/N] found herself outside of Dumbledore’s study, hand hovering in mid-air mere centimetres from the wooden door as she took in a shaky breath, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

She knew Tom better than she knew anyone else, and she knew that he was getting worse, growing more distant with each passing day. She was losing him to.. whatever his plans were. He was beginning to spend more time with his so-called group of admirers (although [Y/N] knew that the term "followers" was more appropriate). What little glimmer of sanity in his eyes that always used to show only whenever he was around her was slowly starting to dim.

She wasn't just losing him; he was losing himself, too, bit by bit. And she knew she had to do something about it.

So she knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came Dumbledore’s voice.

[Y/N] took in another deep breath, furled and unfurled her fingers, swallowed, and then she twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

She’d only been to Dumbledore’s study once before, to ask him a question about homework. Such drastically different circumstances she found herself in now.

"Good evening, professor,” she said, meeting the old man's gaze from where he sat behind his desk. There was an open book in front of him—when was there not?—and what looked like a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans clutched in his hands.

"Ah, Miss [Y/L/N]," beamed Dumbledore as he held out his box of treats. "Would you like to have some?"

Rather used to Dumbledore’s peculiar friendliness, she forced a smile and shook her head. "No, thank you."

"I imagine you don't make it a habit to visit your professors as a means of enjoyment," said Dumbledore, wizened old eyes twinkling as he set down the box on his desk in favor of clasping his hands together and setting them over his book. "So what, might I ask, brings you here? Oh, and please—sit." He gestured to the plush chair across from him.

[Y/N]'s movements were hesitant as she made her way to the chair and took a seat; something that didn't go unnoticed by Dumbledore, judging from the sudden somberness that crossed his face. It was clear that she wasn't here to ask about homework, much less share a box of jellybeans.

"Is everything alright?" Dumbledore frowned.

[Y/N] looked down at her lap. She couldn't stop fidgeting.

Tom was going to suffer for this. She didn't know how, but she knew he would. But she had warned him, hadn't she? She’d told him that if he didn't stop whatever it was that he was up to, she would put a stop to it—and this was better for him, wasn't it?

She knew what Tom was capable of. To anyone else he may have looked like nothing but the perfect model student, but [Y/N] knew him. He had a certain kind of coldness about him. The dangerous kind; the one that suggested he was capable of doing terrible, terrible things.

That, coupled with the nights he spent somehow sneaking out of the castle, only to come back in the early morning with a disturbingly triumphant gleam in his eyes.. the countless reports of dead Muggles in the surrounding villages.. the young followers he'd already amassed, some greedy for glory, others hungry for cruelty, some weak and seeking protection.. his seemingly harmless talks of immortality..

And the constant talk of a plan that would bring about some sort of change in the wizarding world. Somehow [Y/N] knew that whatever this change was, it wasn't going to be a happy one.

"Tom," she breathed out, deciding to cut straight to the point as she looked up to meet Dumbledore’s gaze. "Tom Riddle. I’m sure you know him."

A brief look of realization flashed in the old man’s eyes. Shifting in his seat, he looked down at his book momentarily as though pondering over something, and then back up at [Y/N], gaze now completely serious. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “Of course.”

”And I know that you have your doubts about him.”

A beat of silence. And then he nodded. “I do, Miss [Y/L/N].”

”He’s planning something,” she said, oddly breathless. “I don’t know what, but he’s.. he’s up to something.”

A ghost of a slight smile appeared on Dumbledore’s face. “That much I have figured out as well.”

[Y/N] swallowed. “I think he’s trying to make a Horcrux.”

A tense silence followed her words.

The weight of what she said hung heavy in the air as though a dark cloud had settled over the room. For a few seconds all Dumbledore did was peer at her through his half-moon spectacles, brows creased just the slightest bit, and then, after what seemed like an awfully long time, he let out a long, low breath and nodded.

"I wish I could be more surprised," sighed Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid I've long since had my suspicions about Mr. Riddle, and I don't doubt your words, even though part of me wishes they were untrue."

"He mentioned the word Horcrux to me once, in passing," began [Y/N], relieved at how easily he trusted her. She'd always known Dumbledore was wiser; while the other professors had fallen for Tom's spell, he had not. "Something about having found an answer to his problems—the answer being Horcruxes. something about a soul in exchange." [Y/N] paused, fists clenching in her lap. "I decided to look into it. It took me a while—none of the books in the library here hold too much information about it, but I looked through my family's library when I came home during the winter break. I found out what the word meant.. how to make it."

"And you believe Tom might be interested in—"

"In making a Horcrux, yes." Her tone of voice held a sense of urgency; she'd leaned forward unconsciously in her seat. "I know it sounds mad, but professor, I know Tom. I know what he's capable of. And I—" she inhaled, as though bracing herself for her next words, "I believe he'd be willing to kill for the sake of immortality. Saying it out loud sounds ridiculous, but Tom is hungry for power. I don't know what kind exactly, but I've known him for a long time and I'm sure I'm not just imagining it. He even has followers of his own—he calls them friends, of course, for the sake of normalcy, but they're more his subjects than anything else. He's up to something."

She was betraying Tom, she knew. She was the only person he truly trusted; it was clear just by the way he looked at her, the way he treated her like she was royalty. And [Y/N] felt just as deeply for him as he did for her.

[Y/N] loved Tom; it was why she was doing this. And if he loved her, he would understand.

There was a beat of silence as she recalled what Tom had told her, not so long ago. "Something big," she echoed, holding Dumbledore’s gaze. "Something much bigger than neither I nor you would ever be able to imagine."

—

The world seemed to be ridiculing her.

Two days after her conversation with Dumbledore, Tom took her to the Astronomy tower and confessed that he did, indeed, care for her. And not like a friend would care for another, nor the way a brother would care for his sister—no, he loved her like a man would love another woman.

Tom loved her.

But that wasn’t all he confessed. Finally, he told her of his plans to seek immortality, and along with it, power; how, in the future, he planned to purge the world of non-magical blood. He told her that his plan was already in motion.

This boy standing in front of her, only sixteen—had he murdered someone already?

The mysterious deaths in the Muggle villages surrounding the castle.. [Y/N] had her suspicions, but she’d hoped that it wasn’t him.

”We will rule the wizarding world together,” Tom told her, hands holding the sides of her face, pulling her close. “Bit by bit, we will gain power together. You will be at my side as I become the most powerful wizard of all time—and I will protect you with that power. I will make sure that no man will ever be able to touch you—“

”Tom.”

”I have never known love like the one you’ve taught me to feel,” he exhaled. “And I intend to keep it. To keep you.”

She closed her eyes, ignoring the tears burning behind them as she reached up, gently prying his hands away from her neck. “Tom, listen to me.”

He tried to hold her gaze even as she looked away; her hands gripped his own weakly. “What you’re talking about,” she began softly, “It’s.. I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s madness.”

He stared at her. “Madness.”

This time her grip on his hands did falter. Her arms dropped down to her sides as she turned to instead hold onto the railing, needing something to hang onto. “Tearing your soul apart? For immortality?” she shook her head, pained. “You can’t possibly expect me to stand by your side while you do.. Merlin knows what.”

Tom was silent, but the loving look in his eyes had died out. They were cold again. A little stunned.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking down at her hands, which clutched the metal railing as though it were a lifeline. “Just as much as you love me, Tom, I can assure you of that. But I can’t be with someone who—“

”Someone evil,” Tom cut her off. His tone was bitter. “Is that what you think I am?”

Isn’t that what you are? she wanted to say. Asking me to help you tear your own soul apart and stand by as you murder innocent people?

She swallowed, hung her head, eyes squeezed shut. “Please leave,” she said quietly. “I need some time to think.”

A few seconds passed by in complete silence. She could still feel his presence behind her—could feel the frustration radiating off of him.

“Please leave, Tom,” she repeated, ignoring the shakiness in her own voice. And then, louder: “Leave.”

She listened to his footsteps as he left the tower. And once they faded away, it was only then that she sank to her knees and started crying.

—

[Y/N] loved Tom, and it was for that reason that she found herself inside Dumbledore’s office that very same night, retelling each and every detail of Tom’s plans to the wizened old man, her voice oddly numb and devoid of any emotion.

No fear. No anxiety. Not even pain, as she stood before Dumbledore, betraying the boy she loved and yet could never have. Not with what he wanted to do.

”Thank you,” Dumbledore said once she was finished. Her jaw was clenched as she nodded, swallowed, and then—

What now?

She would go back to the Slytherin common room and face Tom again. What would she do? Take him into her arms and pretend as though all he’d confessed to her hours earlier was that he loved her, and not his horrible plans? Or would she ignore the ache in her chest and pretend as though all their six years of friendship were nonexistent?

Could she? Was her heart capable of that?

As though Dumbledore had read her mind, he said, “Miss [Y/L/N], I’m going to have to ask you to look for another sliver of bravery within you. You must continue to gain information from Tom.”

At this, [Y/N] looked up, the first few traces of real emotion flickering in her eyes for the first time since she arrived.

“Learn his secrets. His plans. Find out what horrid things he has already done and what he will do.”

[Y/N] opened her mouth. No words came out.

“I understand that it would be difficult,” said Dumbledore, tone gentle and yet at the same time authoritative; it wasn’t a request. “But as far as I am aware, you are the closest thing Tom has to a friend. It seems he trusts you.”

”And you want me to keep betraying him.”

There was an almost amused lilt to Dumbledore’s tone. “Were you planning on stopping after this, Miss [Y/L/N]?” he asked, brows furrowed in curiosity. “Did you honestly plan on walking out of this room and turning a blind eye to your friend’s dangerous schemes? I believe you and I reached an understanding the moment you asked for my help a mere few days ago: we will stop Tom Riddle, no matter what the cost. No matter if it risks your friendship with him.”

It risked everything she ever had with him. Everything she would ever have.

And yet.

And yet she loved him, and it was for that reason that she nodded and muttered, “I'll.. I’ll do what’s necessary.”

Meaning, she would betray him.

The first time she’d gone into Dumbledore’s office, she was determined. Nervous, yes, but she’d known what she had to do. But now, knowing that Tom loved her, that he trusted her enough to tell her of every single one of his plans—it changed a lot of things. Made her feel ten times more guilty than she already did.

But she had no choice. She had to stop him. She knew he wouldn’t even if she asked him to—the mere idea of it was unrealistic—so she had to find another way.

She had to trick him. To betray him.

If Tom truly loved her, he would understand.

[Y/N] hoped he would.

—

It took days before they spoke again.

[Y/N] had wanted to put off her task for as long as she could, but before she knew it, Tom was approaching her again.

It seemed he couldn’t last very long without her.

It was nighttime. She was alone—the rest of the students were at the Great Hall, eating dinner—so she had the Hogwarts courtyard all to herself.

Until someone yanked her by the shoulder, pulled her into them, and kissed her.

There was a brief moment of surprise in which she tried to push him away roughly, but then, wide-eyed and bewildered, she got a good look at him.

“Tom,” she gasped, but he kept his lips on hers, one hand on her waist and the other clutching the side of her face. The way he kissed her was almost feverish—desperate—as though he'd been longing to have this for a long time and wanted as much of it as possible now that he had it.

She thought of protesting, of pushing him away roughly and storming away, but instead she found herself relaxing into him; there was a part of her, she realized, that wanted—no, needed this as much as Tom did. So she kissed back, fingers pressing into his upper arm as she kissed him with just as much passion as he was offering her.

Warning signs flashed inside her head. Could she really do this? Pretend like nothing was wrong?

And then a thought came to her. A disturbing one, really—one that had what felt like guilt pricking at her chest as she molded her lips against Tom's own: this could work.

This was exactly what she needed to do. Pretend as though nothing was wrong, stay at Tom's side like this, grow closer to him, find out his secrets and his plans, like Dumbledore said—and then.

And then she would bring him down, in the end.

So she kissed him. Kissed him until she lost track of time; until the passion in her died out and was only replaced by a feeling of numbness, knowing fully well that the reason she was kissing him was no longer because of how much she wanted to, but because she had to gain his trust. When Tom pulled away, finally, lips swollen and eyes like dark pools of water, he leaned his forehead on hers and whispered, "I love you."

A chill ran down her spine. She swallowed and closed her eyes. It was easier not to look at him.

[Y/N] tightened her hold on Tom's arm and choked out four words that she meant fully well, and yet felt so horribly guilty for saying.

"I love you too," she told him, and hoped that he didn’t hear the trembling in her voice.

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

Note

How about some yandere!giant headcannons please?

(Yes I took the lazy route when drawing this, and if you see people you don't recognize it's because I decided to put my friends in it-)

(( I also had drawn Mikudayo and Miko because I just thought it was funny to make them considering the time I had mistaken them for each other-))

TW/tags: gender neutral reader // I'm gonna make the giant male because you didn't really say giantess? So I'm assuming it's male/gender neutral pronouns // being treated like a doll/pet // kidnapping // language barrier cause I'm yearning- // very generic giant story // delusional thinking // slight stockholm syndrome

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Don't even ask me, y'all read about eldritch creatures so a giant is literally no big deal- [Yandere!Giant x Reader - Headcanon]:

Oh dear, oh goodie, oh Lord-

Does anyone need a bit of context? Maybe a little storyline to start with? I could just go straight to the good stuff though??

Listen- I could pull out so many mother fucking posts under the category of Yandere Giants- Almost all Eldritch content in my blog involves the height difference of: vewy tol x vewy smol UwU

Anyway- Malos, the giant of our story. I'm going to go very generically since I didn't want to say something that could possibly not be of your taste boo-

Malos is your classic troublemaking giant, the type of which you would hear about in fairy tales created to scare the human folk all around your kingdom. All those stories talked about the world beyond the clouds, the giant's kingdom, living their lives in wealth, very far from the ground below where humans (their "favorite delicacy", allegedly) lived.

The one thing that all those stories shared in common was the violent behavior of the tyrants above, their arrogant and greedy nature mixed with the horrifying sightings of giants who would somehow find their way to get on land, specifically targeting a small town to torment. Many have said to have faced a big beast walking around in the woods, some would claim that they actually fought a giant or two, although there is no way to confirm such bold claims of being true.

Were you a common townsfolk who got themselves too far into the woods? An adventurer finding their way into a town surrounded by mystery? Or were you perhaps a noble who by terrible misfortune, had their carriage be stuck during a heavy storm in the dark of night?

It doesn't really matter which one you choose, considering that what happens next would be inevitable. You get lost at the dead of night, the townsfolk not even being able to comprehend how someone can simply disappear like this. You would wake up at a place you couldn't even begin to recognize, it was a very well decorated room yet none of it felt familiar to you.

Maybe it was because of how fancy and modern it was compared to what you were more accustomed with on land, or maybe it was the simple fact that everything in this room was awfully huge compared to you. It took you quite some time to realize that you were not only on top of a massive bed- But that you were trapped inside a bird cage.

Before you could question whether you were having a hallucination or not, your joyful captor made its way inside the bedroom. With such a blissful expression that makes a chill run down your spine- He was so big, it was obvious your captor would have been a giant considering your current location, yet it still shocked you for some reason.

Much to your dismay, your captor does not speak the same language as you, which made you scream at him to free you and put you back where he found you. You have noticed he wasn't understanding a single word coming out of your mouth the moment you started crying at the giant, begging for mercy in fear of what could be your destiny here.

Yet here you were, just- Being observed by such gentle eyes, concerned of your current state. He could talk and shush your cries all he wanted, but you couldn't understand a single thing he meant, the only certainty in this case being the fact you ain't getting out of here so soon.

Malos isn't evil, even if you can't understand what he says- You can tell he is very gentle with you, maybe because he sees how scared and panicky you are, or because he sees you as a pet- Who knows?

He did give you a lot of signs of seeing you as possibly just a "pocket companion", a pet and a doll, someone he could take care of and take wherever he wanted. You noticed how there was no one else who lived with him, maybe he was that lonely and desperate to find a friend that he took you- Without considering your actual feelings on the action.

You weren't too small compared to him, you were basically the height of his hand- A small doll to him, just for him. Whatever life you used to have could be kissed goodbye at this point, because even if you wish everything could go back to normal, that ain't happening, boo.

Malos loves dressing you up, giving you little trinkets to use, giving you small portions of his own food, hearing you make all those lovely sounds he doesn't understand one bit off yet it is still willing to try and comprehend it. He is a very skilled crafter, you know? He knows how to create small toys that will make wonderful gifts for you, at least in his own mind.

Whatever situation you were in that would have brought you to meet him, he would have thought the same thing regardless of what background you could choose for yourself- In Malos eyes, you were lost in the cold of the night, looking so lonely and in need of someone's attention, which he could relate to since he was also lonely and looking for company.

Malos is quite delusional, he has his moments where he has to face reality as a lonely toy maker who kidnapped a human to be his little companion. In these moments of lucidity, he will look at you as if he was lost, as if he was searching for an answer- A confirmation of his actions.

And looking at your cute small little self, confirms his beliefs. You were lost, he was also lost- Yet you found each other, and that's all that matters for him.

After being faced with so much love and attention, considering how weeks and months have passed since he got you here, it's not hard to imagine you feeling more comfortable in his presence.

His skin is so much warmer than yours, his rough hands hold you with such care- It's hard to not give yourself in to his gentle touches, to his incomprehensible whispers, he has such a smooth voice that is hard to not enjoy listening to it.

You didn't plan this to happen- But on each day that passes by, you start feeling like being taken care off is way better than having to fend for yourself down there with the other humans. His company has been so heartwarming, and it hurts you the times he has to go out and take long periods of time outside his house, probably selling his toys or even buying more food for you two.

It's so unfortunate to think that you, someone who was once a person, was now submitting to him and enjoying being treated like this- You would curse at yourself for being so weak, so desperate for his affection, to the point you enjoy being petted and loved as a doll.

With Malos, you could ignore the voices screaming at you to get yourself out of his house in the clouds, but whenever you were left alone locked inside a doll house he built, you would cry yourself to sleep until you could ignore your conscience telling you how much of a failure you are.

If Malos was somehow aware of this confusing thoughts inside you, he would try his best to calm you down, while also pulling you closer to the confirmation that he is here to help you, to take care of you and that there is no shame in you liking him as well. He already loves you so much, he just needs you to do the same for him.

However, Malos isn't always gentle with you- Not only is he easily excited, but he is also easily angered, very childishly. His outbursts are never on you, but rather on the things around you. You can feel the table under you shake whenever he has his temper tantrums, you can see him taking away some of your items as a form of punishment in case you have been acting up.

He would also give you an ice shoulder for some time if he felt as if you were in need of apologizing (even if he didn't understand your language, he could still see through your mannerisms if you were truly sorry or not). He wouldn't ignore you for long, considering how he is also very touch-starved, which leads into the next point:

Malos loves petting you, and touching you. You're soft and squishy and so charming to hold- How can he not love you to bits??!

He gets very confused sometimes, he isn't sure if he sees you as a small pet-like companion, or as a possible- Well, partner. His adoration towards you will start to twist into actual romantic interest, and I warn you to be careful darling-

The moment he sets his mind into something, it's nearly impossible to change it back.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere headcanon #yandere oc #yandere monster #yandere giant #yandere giant x reader #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc?#special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.Ⅱ Mini Drama “Ruki VS Azusa”

Original title: 録り下ろしミニドラマ｢ルキVSアズサ｣

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.II Mini Drama [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takagi Sakurai & Daisuke Kishio

Translator’s note: I believe this is the first time I have translated some sort of VERSUS track featuring two Mukami’s and it does have a totally different feel to it, as to be expected. Even though there is still an obvious competition between the two, they aren’t nearly as hostile towards each other, even relying on the other or allowing their ‘brother’ to join in. This sibling bond between the Mukami’s is honestly what I like best about them and I’m glad it shows in this CD!

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*Chop chop chop*

Azusa: Eve...What are you doing...?

You squeak.

Azusa: Ah...I’m sorry for scaring you...

You explain.

Azusa: You’re making...dinner? Hmー

Azusa paces around you.

Azusa: Hm...What’s on the menu for today? You chopped up...a bunch of vegetables, huh?

*Rustle*

Azusa: Ah! That knife...It cuts extremely well, doesn’t it? I sharpened it...the other day. So I’d be able to cut...even the hardest materials...You see? I’m sure it could even...slice through bones and flesh with ease...Fufufu~

Your face goes pale.

Azusa: Want to...put it to the test? No, you want to try it out, right? I can tell as well, Eve...

*Rustle*

Azusa: Say...Try it on me? Right here, please?

You refuse.

Azusa: Justin, you see...He’s about to fade away. So...Please? Cut me here? ...Come on. You want to, don’t you?

You shake your head.

Azusa: ...Why not? Why would you say no? That’s strange. We should be...two of the same kind though...Ah! That’s wrong. You want it first, don’t you? I see. Of course you would.

He suddenly pins you down.

*Thud*

Azusa: Haah...I’m sorry for not realizing sooner. To make it up to you, I’ll make it...especially painful, okay? Fufufu~ I hope that’ll make you happy~

*Cling*

You start struggling.

Azusa: It’ll be...okay...Just leave it...up to me...Ugh...

*Shatter*

Azusa: Ugh...Nn...Keep still...Eve...Come on...You can’t do that...Ugh!

*Thud*

Azusa: Haah...Fufu~ Like this, you can no longer move, can you? Ooh...But I can no longer use the knife like this...Hm...What to do...? Ah! Right!

He leans in close.

Azusa: Instead, I’ll give you this pain...which you’ve loved for so long...Haahn...

Azusa bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Nn...Haah...Delicious...Eve’s blood...I wonder if it’s because...you enjoy pain...?

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: In that case...I’ll make it hurt even more, okay? By doing so...You get to feel even better...and I get to...savor more of your...delicious blood...It’s basically a two-for-one deal (1), right...? Fufu~

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: Haah...Well then, this place is up next...Your ear...

He bites you again.

Azusa: ...Hm? Mm...What’s wrong, Eve? Don’t look at me...like that. Rest...asssured. I’ll make sure to give you pain...just like you wish...Not from your earlobe but...right here...if I suck from the upper part...I’m sure it’ll hurt.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Azusa: Come on...Relax. Then my fangs can...sink into you and...give you pain...from inside...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Nn...Hah...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Mm...

*Shatter*

Azusa: Haah...Nn...Mmh...Haah, haah...Seeing you have a hard time...Somehow made me feel good too...Fufu...Fufufu~ It looks as if I almost punctured a hole through your ear...In that case...Let’s put a pretty accessory in here. To symbolize that...I was the one who pierced these...Shall we give it a name too? Like Justin and Christina...Say? Don’t you like the sound of that? Fufufu~

*Rustle*

Azusa: Haahn...Mmh...

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Mmh...Nn...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Haah...It’s my turn next, okay...?

Azusa moves away.

Azusa: Come on, hurt me with this knife...Give me a new kind of pain...I’m begging you.

*Cling*

Azusa: ...Eve? What’s wrong? Hm...Come on, stand...

Ruki enters the kitchen.

Ruki: It has been awfully rowdy in here. What are you doing?

Azusa: Oh...Ruki.

He walks over.

Ruki: Haah...Care explain this to me? Livestock, explain. I should have ordered you to prepare our dinner?

You frown.

Ruki: From the looks of it, rather than actually preparing the food, all you did was make a mess of our kitchen. You truly are hopeless. Can you not even prepare a single meal without messing up? Haah...Show me your hands.

You hesitate.

Ruki: Show me your hands, I said!

You present him your hands.

Ruki: This is your punishment.

*SMACK*

Azusa: Ah! Wait, Ruki...I’m the one one who...!

*SMACK*

Azusa: Ugh...Ah...

Ruki: Azusa, do not interfere.

Azusa: I’m the one...who got in the way of her cooking so punish me too...

Ruki: Cannot do. You simply want to feel the pain, no?

Azusa: Oh...

Ruki: Regardless of the circumstances, the fact she ignored the orders given by her master remains unchanged. I need to punish her. Azusa. You restrain her, okay?

Azusa: ...Eh?

Ruki: Hurry up.

Azusa: Understood...

Azusa keeps your arms behind your back.

*Rustle*

Azusa: Keep still, okay? Eve...

Ruki: That works. Livestock, I shall tame you right now. You should be grateful. Hmph.

You shiver in fear.

Ruki: Good grief...I can’t believe you would ignore your duties behind your Master’s back, only to indulge in your own selfish pleasures. You are quite the livestock. ...Hm? Are these fang marks Azusa’s? In that case, to start things off, I shall suck from this nape...

*Rustle*

Ruki: Mmh...Nn...

*Rustle rustle*

Ruki: Don’t move. It makes it hard to suck.

*Sluuurp*

You continue writhing around.

Ruki: Tsk. Livestock. I told you to keep still! ...Azusa, keep her in check.

Azusa: Mmh...

Ruki: I cannot believe you can’t even simply stand still and keep quiet...

*RIIIIIP*

Ruki: Seems like I will have to be a little more strict with my training. To ensure your body actually remembers. You can decide where I shall punish you next. Your throat? Or perhaps, your shoulder? Come on, choose.

You keep quiet.

Ruki: Good grief...To think you are this foolish, it almost seems refreshing. Show me your hands one more time. Hurry up.

*Rustle*

Ruki: Hmph. The whip has left clear marks behind. I’m sure it must sting painfully?

You nod.

Ruki: In that case...I shall add onto said pain even more. Like this...

*Rustle*

Ruki bites your hand.

*Sluuuurp*

Ruki: Mmh...Hah...Fufu...Those are lovely sounds...Cry out more!

You collapse but Azusa catches you in his arms.

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...Oh! Eve...? Are you okay...? I wonder if it simply felt too good...? Hey.

Ruki: Oi.

*Smack*

Ruki: Wake up. ...You’re gravely mistaken if you think your punishment ends here. Oi, Azusa. You join in too.

Azusa: Ah...Are you sure?

Ruki: Hmph. It’d be more effective if the two of us discipline her simultaneously. Help me out.

Azusa: Mmh...Gotcha. Eve...This time...I’ll give you pain too...Are you happy? No...You obviously are, aren’t you?

Ruki: You should accept your penalty, admitting to the crime you have committed towards your Master.

Azusa: In that case...I’ll go for this...shoulder. You like it here, Eve...Don’t you?

Ruki: Fufufu...Try your best to remain conscious, okay?

Azusa bites your shoulder.

Azusa: Mmh...

*Sluuurp*

Azusa: Nn...Ah...

*Rustle*

Azusa: Eve...? Does it feel good? ...You ahead...You can lean against me more...By doing so...My fangs can sink in...even deeper.

Ruki: Livestock. Open your eyes. Watch closely. At these wedges (2) piercing through your own wrist.

Ruki bites her as well.

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Eve...Feel my fangs too...

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

Azusa: Mmh...Ah...You want...more and more...right? This shouldn’t be...nearly enough to satisfy you...

Ruki: Azusa...Give it to her harder, and deeper. Despite her cries, that’s what this woman desires. I can tell.

Azusa: Mmh. I know. ...I’ll give it you as you wish, okay? After all...Eve’s desire...is my desire as well...Haahn...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Nn...

Ruki: Your sweet blood is spreading inside my mouth...Mmh...You sure know how to entice a man.

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Haah...Hah...Eve...You’re so pretty...Dyed in this deep crimson blood...Mmh.

*Smooch*

Azusa: See? My lips are bright red too, aren’t they? Fufufu~ We match~

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: Ah...It’s okay...Don’t worry about getting dirty?

*Rustle*

Azusa: Oh...You’ve got bite marks all over you...I bet it hurts a lot...Mmh. Oh. I suppose I shouldn’t be too rough with you, right?

Ruki: Oi, Azusa. She’s a nosy woman, but it’d be troublesome if she becomes unable of saying anything.

Azusa: Mmh. I know.

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: I’ll be careful, okay?

*Rustle*

Ruki: Well then...Next up, I’ll do it from behind like this. Let me engrave a pentalty into your nape. Haha...Have you even lost the energy to muster up a response? Good grief...You really always crave to be punished, don’t you? Being too greedy is problematic as well.

Azusa: Hey, Eve...Look at me...Okay? You’ve been looking at...Ruki this whole time, haven’t you? I have the right to make you mine as well...So...Please? I’ll give you...more and more pain...See? Like this...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Mmh...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Nn...Mmh...

Ruki: Do not let Azusa’s words sway you. In the end, you are still my livestock. I am the one you should prioritize.

Azusa: ...I won’t lose either, Ruki!

Ruki: As you wish. Fufufu...

Azusa: Say, Eve? We are two of the same kind. Therefore...I will give you everything...your heart desires...

Ruki: Heh. Aren’t you rather desperate, Azusa? It is rather uncommon for you to get this worked up.

Azusa: Because she is the one thing...I don’t want to hand over, not even to you...That’s why...

Ruki: Heh. I see. In that case, I shouldn’t sit still either. ...Oi, Livestock. Drown in me more. Mmh...Nn...

Azusa: Me too...! ...Hey, Eve? You can...have high hopes, okay? Mmh...

*Sluuuurp*

Azusa: Mmn...Nn...

Ruki: I am sure this situation is all you’ve ever dreamt of, isn’t it? Well, go ahead and enjoy it to the fullest. After all, you are a woman who feels joy from being pinned down. We still have plenty of time. I shall show you a kind of pleasure you have yet to ever experience.

Azusa: Eve...I will give it my all as well...Until you are thoroughly satisfied, okay?

Ruki: Hahaha...You are in luck. Seems like your punishment is still far from over.

The door closes.

*Creaaaak*

*Thud*

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Azusa uses the expression いいことづくし or ‘ii-koto-zukushi’ which literally means ‘all sorts of good things/joyful happenings’.

(2) I’m not sure why Ruki refers to his fangs as 楔 or ‘kusabi’ (wedge) here but I suppose they have a somewhat similar shape.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #azusa mukami #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd #diabolik lovers versus song

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valdomarx · 4 years

Text

Geralt thinks he might be losing his mind.

He’s distracted, and short-tempered, even more so than usual. Every time he looks at Jaskier his heart rate rockets and his palms start sweating.

He can’t stop noticing Jaskier, everything he does, the way he stands, the way he moves, the way he nibbles his bottom lip when he’s thinking. He can’t focus, and if he can’t get this under control he’s going to get one or both of them killed.

His first thought is magic. Some kind of spell, maybe. But his medallion is still against his chest, and when he surreptitiously stops by a herbalist’s shop in a nearby town, the woman there finds no trace of a spell or curse on him.

Perhaps, he thinks, the problem is Jaskier. He’s wondered why Jaskier doesn’t seem to age, and how he has the energy to traipse across the continent after him. Perhaps Jaskier is hiding a secret. Perhaps he’s not as human as he seems.

Jaskier could be a siren. That would explain how he can enchant a crowd with a simple song, as Geralt has seen him do a hundred times, and how he could have enchanted Geralt as well. But when Geralt hands him his silver sword, ostensibly to hold while he cleans out their packs, Jaskier’s skin doesn’t smoke or burn. Instead, he turns the sword over in his hands, inspecting the sleek blade and the tightly bound leather of the grip. He runs a thumb over the edge to check its sharpness and nicks himself, clumsy as ever. Before Geralt can berate him, he brings his thumb up to his mouth, and then Geralt is distracted all over again by the way Jaskier sucks the digit between his plump lips, and that’s just not fair.

Maybe Jaskier is an incubus. That would make sense, given his fondness for the ladies and his obvious good looks. But if he’s been filing down his horns all this time, he’s done an awfully good job of it. Geralt finds an excuse to run a hand through Jaskier’s hair, and he doesn’t feel any bumps beneath his fingers. But Jaskier does lean into his touch, smiling softly, and Geralt’s heart flutters in a most unhelpful way.

Just because Geralt is dealing with an unwelcome onslaught of feelings, that doesn’t mean he has to make it Jaskier’s problem. He does his best to maintain the usual tone of their interactions: gruff and to the point. Businesslike. Practical.

He thinks he’s doing rather well at that. At least until they stop at a tavern and Jaskier performs for the locals, catching the eye of a pretty girl.

Geralt waits for Jaskier to head to the bar and he does, perhaps, talk a little louder than is strictly necessary about the horrible monsters which stalk anyone close to a witcher. And he does, perhaps, feel a mean twist of satisfaction when the pretty girl’s face pales and she runs from the tavern.

He feels a little bit guilty when Jaskier returns to find her gone, but Jaskier looks tired anyway and readily takes him up on the suggestion that they retire for the night, so he can’t have been that disappointed after all.

But when Geralt returns from washing and walks into their room he stops dead, feet frozen on the threshold. Because Jaskier is there, lounging on the bed. And he’s wearing one of Geralt’s shirts and nothing else. The black shirt hangs off his frame in a manner that’s somehow more obscene than if he’d just been naked.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Geralt manages to growl, and his voice only cracks a little bit.

“My clothes all need washing.” Jaskier shrugs, and the collar of the shirt slides down to reveal more of the smooth planes of his shoulder and the dark hair dusting his chest. Geralt can’t stop staring. “I borrowed this from your pack. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

Geralt concentrates on getting his legs to work and takes a few steps toward the bed. Up close, it’s even worse. Jaskier smells like Geralt. No, he smells like he’s Geralt’s.

His bard in his shirt in his bed.

Something primal and possessive thrums through him, and he can’t tear his eyes away from how the black fabric highlights the pale skin of Jaskier’s throat, the way the hem of the shirt floats around the meat of his thighs. Blood pounds in his ears.

“Are you coming to bed then?” Jaskier asks, an impish smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Bed. Right. For sleeping. That’s what they’re supposed to be doing.

Stiffly, keeping his eyes firmly averted, he manages to climb into bed and resist the urge to tear the shirt off Jaskier and do.... something unwise. He curses his luck that the bed is so small, with barely enough room to keep a decent amount of space between them.

He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling. As long as he doesn’t turn his head and look at Jaskier, everything will be fine.

Jaskier fusses and rearranges himself several times, energetic as ever, but Geralt steadfastly ignores him and soon enough he’s rolled over onto his side, back to Geralt, and fallen asleep.

Geralt allows his eyes to flick over Jaskier’s sleeping form then, and it still strikes him as astonishing that anyone could feel safe and trusting enough to sleep next to a witcher. But there Jaskier is, content to the point of naivety, vulnerable and fearless.

In sleep, Jaskier’s face softens and he looks even younger than usual, his typically animated features relaxed into something graceful and delicate. He sleeps soundly, unconcerned by the voices from the bar downstairs or the rustle of the nearby trees in the wind.

Geralt is fidgety and on edge, every sound blaring into his consciousness. He’s exquisitely aware of the feel of the rough cotton sheet beneath him, the warmth pouring off Jaskier, the gentle rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest, the comparatively furious rhythm of Jaskier’s heartbeat.

It takes him many, many hours, but eventually he sleeps.

Geralt wakes the next morning warm and comfortable, with a low thrum of pleasure spreading throughout his body. Something feels good, really good, and as he rolls his hips the pleasure spikes, heady and potent, waves of satisfaction running through him like the ocean lapping at a sandy beach.

He nuzzles into something soft and familiar, a soothing, spicy scent washing over him, a distant thrill of mounting gratification building inside him. Whatever this is, he's greedy for more of it.

It takes a few minutes until he wakes up fully and realises that he’s shifted in the night: His face is nestled into Jaskier’s hair, his arm is around Jaskier’s waist, his leg is thrown over Jaskier’s hip, and his dick is rock hard and grinding up against Jaskier’s arse.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He stills, trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to extract himself from this situation without making it any more embarrassing than it already is. He’s planning his exit strategy, trying to untangle their limbs, trying to keep his breath low and steady so as not to betray his roiling emotions, and then Jaskier’s hand curls around his and squeezes.

“Don’t stop,” Jaskier says, voice thick with sleep, face still buried in the pillow.

And that’s. Gods. That’s exactly what he wants to hear, on one level, and some kind of tantalising torment on another. Because Jaskier surely can’t mean that, he can’t seriously want some lust-addled witcher rutting up against him. Who would want that?

Jaskier continues to defy his expectations, though, and rucks up his shirt to his waist to expose his bare ass, and Geralt can’t stop the little gasp that escapes his throat at that.

“C’mon,” Jaskier says, voice still thick but undeniably awake now, and Geralt is weak because before he can get a hold of himself he’s shoving his own shorts down and rubbing up against the soft swell of Jaskier’s ass, warm and smooth and deliriously good.

His cock slides between Jaskier’s thighs and Jaskier squeezes, and he’s dizzy with it for a minute, the heat and the scent of Jaskier and the strong grip of muscles around his cock. He fucks between Jaskier’s legs with abandon, and judging by the way Jaskier reaches down and furiously jerks himself off he’s enjoying it plenty too.

If Geralt cranes his neck he can just see the tip of his cock sliding between Jaskier’s legs, periodically bumping up against his balls or rubbing against Jaskier’s hand where he’s working himself.

He grabs onto Jaskier’s hips and holds on tight, tight enough that he’s going to leave bruises if he’s not careful, and then he’s picturing Jaskier walking around for days with impressions on his skin in the exact shape of Geralt’s spread fingers, marked and owned. That’s really all it takes to push him over the edge, and the next thing he knows he’s coming all over Jaskier’s ass and thighs with a low moan.

He nestles closer, making an utter mess of both of them but he doesn’t care, he just wants to feel Jaskier in his arms and smell that maddening scent that’s been hovering around him for days. They’re so close that he can feel Jaskier’s approaching orgasm, feel the way his muscles clench and his toes curl, and feel the moment he lets go and comes with a breathy sound over his hand and the bed and Geralt’s shirt.

Geralt winces. He’s going to have to burn that shirt, because it’s now covered in both of their seed and he’ll never be able to look at it again without thinking of this morning and this moment, and that’s not the kind of reminder he needs.

They lie there for a time, bodies intertwined, just breathing together. Soon Geralt knows he’ll have to push himself up and clean himself off and go back to pretending that this... whatever it is between them... is enough for him, that he’s happy, that he‘s getting what he wants.

His heart aches at the thought of slipping back into their routine of bickering or casual friendship, interspersed with moments of unspoken lust. Not that he doesn’t want that, he certainly does, but he longs for something more. He doesn’t know how to name it, but he knows what he wants is too much for someone like him to ask for.

Still, for now, he lets himself inhale Jaskier’s scent and feel Jaskier’s solid weight in his arms, and he lets himself indulge in the fantasy of what life might look like if this were something he could actually have.

#geralt wrestles ineffectively with his feelings and his morning wood #feat. jaskier in geralt's clothes 😏#geralt and jaskier's brothel adventures #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

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brokenangelwings22 · 3 years

Text

Here's probably my only entry for IHweek. I've finally returned to writing. This is an excerpt from chapter 2 of my story Come Back Down to Earth. You can read the first chapter either on AO3 or FanFiction

Confession (IHweek 7/4) Please enjoy!

Chapter 2: Crawled In and Never Left

Give me the chance to tonight

I'll prove to you what's in my eyes

(It’s My Turn To Fly - The Urge - Titan AE soundtrack 2000)

Ichigo considered himself a reasonable man, but his patience was growing thin with his roommate.

“C’mon, man! You had a solid chance with Hime last night!” Renji pleaded with him. “Why are you so obtuse?”

“That’s an awfully big word for you.” Ichigo rolled his eyes at his friend. “Ever think of taking your own advice with Rukia?”

Renji let out a long suffering sigh. “You’re both hopeless, and therefore perfect for each other.”

“I’m perfectly happy with how things are with Hime. I don’t want to chance it.”

Renji pulled out a box of pretzel sticks from the cupboard. He fixed a concerned look on his face, and the seriousness unnerved Ichigo.

“Look. I’m not gonna force you. Even if I think you’re absolutely nuts not to. I will, however, point out that you’re an idiot for not telling her how you feel.” Renji pulled out a piece of pretzel and pointed it at Ichigo to emphasize his thought. “You’re gonna lose her one day if you continue to be ridiculous.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes as his scowl persisted. “You think I am not aware of that?”

Renji placed the stick between his teeth and grinned toothily. “Yup!”

A sleepy noise came from behind the two men just as Ichigo opened his mouth to snap at his friend.

“Mm morning guys,” Orihime yawned as she stepped into the kitchen. “Any coffee? It’s too early.”

“Sorry Hime. Were we too loud?” Ichigo asked, his previous scowl morphing to something more kind.

“No,” she murmured. Her voice was still thick with sleep. She stumbled a little, bumping into Ichigo. “Oh hi wall. You smell nice.” Orihime leaned into his chest and snuggled him.

There was a strangled sound from Renji as he watched the young woman wrap her arms loosely around Ichigo’s waist. Instinctively, Ichigo wrapped his arms around her to steady her.

“Renji,” Ichigo said softly as to not disturb Orihime. “Please brew some coffee for her.”

“Jeez if I had known that Hime could instantly dissolve your sour mood with an embrace, I’d handcuff you both together.” Renji grumbled and shook his head, walking over to the coffeemaker on the counter.

Ichigo hummed a distracted acknowledgement as he idly stroked Orihime’s long auburn hair. She snuggled into his broad chest further. “Thanks. I’ll move her back to her room.” He was already moving towards the living room as he heard Renji’s snarky reply.

“Oh take your time. I’m merely here to serve.”

~*~*~*~

Ichigo sighed heavily as he stepped out from Orihime’s room and shut the door behind him quietly. He turned to walk down the short hallway, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw his two friends standing a few feet away with evil grins on their faces. Squaring his shoulders and fixing a glare at Renji and Rukia, he taunted “Don’t you both have something better to do? Like, absolutely anything?”

Rukia’s grin sharpened further. “Nah, we’re more interested in heckling you.”

Ichigo grumbled, raking his fingers through his unruly hair. “Yeah yeah. You’re both insufferable.”

He flicked Rukia’s forehead and smacked Renji’s upper back swiftly as he moved to leave.

Rukia’s retort was loud as she declared, “And YOU are the annoying brother I never asked for and yet somehow got!”

Renji’s muttering was barely noticeable under the small woman’s rage. “C’mon, Rukia. Let’s leave him be.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, stepping around the ornery woman and made his way to the kitchen. Of course, Renji was right. It annoyed him to no end that he hadn’t spoken with Orihime about how he felt towards her. Hell, if he were being honest, he knew that he was in love with her at first sight.

She’d stumbled into his dad’s clinic, buckling under the weight of her brother’s prone body. This girl, only 12 at the time, carried her six foot and change older brother from the scene of the car accident all the way there. She was battered and bruised from the wreckage too. It broke him to his very soul when he had to tell her that his father was unable to save Orihime’s brother. The ambulance Isshin had called to rush him to the trauma ward of the hospital had simply not gotten there in enough time.

He did his best to console Orihime, who collapsed in a heap on the clinic floor. Her clothes were soiled with dirt and caked in her brother’s blood.

Yuzu had entered the room, and with a kind and understanding voice, ushered the broken girl to the bathroom to wash up. Orihime stayed at his house for several days, mostly walking around with mechanical movements, much like a zombie or a robot, just going through the motions of a semblance of normalcy. At night she’d cry herself to sleep. Ichigo stayed by her side when she was awake, and would help her to bed when she could barely stay up right.

Slowly, but surely, Orihime processed the loss of her brother. Ichigo stuck to her like glue, promising her and to himself that he would always be there to protect her. Orihime professed her gratitude to him soon after she moved back to her apartment, telling him that she was eternally grateful for everything he had done. As time went on, they became inseparable. They went to the same middle school and then high school, which introduced them to new friends that they quickly established into a tight-knit group.

Orihime had grown up beautifully. Her smile, warm and bright, had the ability to render him speechless and lightheaded. He felt invincible and vulnerable all at once. Far too many times, their friends would catch him when he was slack-jawed and mindless, teasing him mercilessly when Orihime wasn’t looking.

He began calling her ‘Hime’ their senior year. He hadn’t meant to, but it just slipped out. She had been followed by a group of boys who often flocked around her, taken by her beauty and her curvaceous body. One of them had ventured to put a hand on her shoulder without permission and Ichigo had snapped. Any restraint he had frayed instantly and before he understood what was happening, he had slammed the cretin against the wall and threatened him.

“You don’t touch women without consent, especially Hime.” He growled at the other guy, clenching the offending limb.

Orihime had called his name softly, telling Ichigo to let the man go, and he had simultaneously dropped him and her request. Ichigo made it a point to be by her side every chance he had. To protect her, love her from a distance if need be. It was enough, at that time.

But once Ichigo, Orihime and their friends entered university, the strain to keep a tight seal over his feelings became increasingly more difficult. His best friend flourished in academics and her social life expanded to include other people outside of their small group. With that also came obstacles, and Ichigo had to fend off more than a few of Orihime’s admirers.

Ichigo gripped the handle of the carafe of coffee angrily at the memory. The steam and scent of the hot brew brought him back to the present. He sighed after loosening his grip and poured two cups, adding cream and sugar to Orihime’s.

Soft footfalls behind him reached his ears, along with a quiet yawn. A grin spread on his lips as Orihime came into view.

Orihime blinked away the remnants of sleep from her eyes, smiling brightly at Ichigo when he offered her the cup he’d gotten for her.

Taking a big sip, she sighed happily. “Thanks, Ichigo. You always know how to make my coffee just how I like it.”

Ichigo smiled gently at her, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Well, after knowing you for ten years, I’d like to think I know you well enough to get your preferences right.”

Orihime giggled and gazed up at him from behind the mug pressed to her lips. “You do, and I’m grateful for that. Lord knows why Rukia insists on adding extra sugar and Tatsuki puts in too little cream. You are a hero among men, good sir.”

Ichigo’s smile widened at Orihime’s playfulness. “I try my best, m’lady.”

“Where are Rukia and Renji?” Orihime asked as she looked around the kitchen.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Hopefully somewhere off annoying someone else more deserving.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Orihime snorted bemusedly, shaking her head in disbelief as he tried to sound convincingly bored and grumpy. She raised her hand to place it on his right cheek in a fond manner.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her question came out more flirtatious than she intended.

Ichigo’s eyes widened at her sweet gesture and instantly leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and revelling in it. He had never realized how touch starved he truly was until Orihime would step into his personal space with her warm smile and kind gaze. It was as if that one thing, a fleeting brush of her fingers, or a soothing embrace had the ability to heal his wounded heart or eradicate any scar left on his soul.

Losing his mother at such a young age had made him a hardened and angry child. He blamed himself for her death, believing that if he had done something, spent more time with her, taken care of her and his sisters more, that she may very well have recovered from cancer. But his father had explained to him many times that the disease was caught too late, and the malignancy had metastasized from her cervix to her uterus and ovaries very quickly. Ichigo was still struggling with the loss of his mother two years later, when Orihime stumbled into their clinic with her brother.

He’d figured that no matter how miserable and heart wrenching it was, he had found purpose in consoling Orihime. It gave him unbelievable strength to bond with her over the loss. Helping her ultimately helped him as well in the end. The desire to be with her only grew. It had crawled in and never left. He’d become greedy for it, overthrown by his desperation to be close to the light that was Orihime.

She continued to lightly graze his cheekbone with soft brushes against him, her warm fingers causing pleasant tingles on his skin.

Orihime cupped the side of his face as she watched in awe how he was drawn to her touch, feeling the soft smile that pulled at his lips. When he raised his hand to place it over hers, she felt herself being pulled by an invisible force, almost magnetic. He had always been like that, and she adored being the one that he let in entirely. She stroked his cheek and began to pull her palm away until he held fast to her. His eyes fluttered open, and the look he had in them made the breath catch in her throat.

“Ichi-“ she murmured breathlessly.

The raw emotion that flashed in his dark amber gaze made her spine tingle, her heart stutter and her cheeks warm. He had the ability to render her tongue-tied with the flicker of something deep and foreign to her. Ichigo pulled her into his arms, finally allowing her hand to move, and she found herself slipping it to the back of his neck and burying her fingers into his soft hair. He wrapped his arms about her, pulling her to his lean, muscular body and sighed happily as Orihime sifted her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp comfortingly.

Orihime pressed her ear over his heart, as he towered over her five foot one frame. The thumping, strong sound of it beating quieted her mind immediately. He slid his hands up and down her back, and she felt herself melt into it.

“I… I just need this, Hime.” Ichigo’s whisper filtered into her ear as he pressed his lips to her temple, sending a shiver through her body. Though quiet, she heard the fervency in his tone. She nodded against him, continuing her movements through his hair. She felt him shudder in their embrace and the breathless ‘thank you’ that he uttered.

“Were you thinking about something?” Orihime whispered back, her eyebrows drawing inwards as the possibility fluttered through her mind.

Ichigo nodded, letting out a stuttering sigh. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m better now.”

She hummed thoughtfully at his response, resigning herself to his simple answer. She wouldn’t push him further.

Finally Ichigo pulled back from her to look her in the eyes. His gaze was still intense, as it flickered with what she could only identify as resolve and something far much more akin to what she assumed she wore as an expression often in his presence. It made her heart skip a beat and her mind to race at the possibilities.

“Hime,” he murmured. The way he said her name was like an urgent plea. It caused her stomach to swoop down like she was on an out of control rollercoaster. She waited on baited breath as he gathered his thoughts.

Ichigo’s mind was restless. His need to put into words how he felt about her, loved her, desired her rushed through and permeated the recesses of his brain. He should’ve been used to the intensity of it by now, but he most certainly wasn’t. The way she watched him gave him strength to form the words, stilling the overbearing thoughts warring to leave his mouth.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. His simple response was anything but, knowing deep down that this could make or break their friendship. The smile she gave him nearly shut down his brain entirely.

“What took you so long?” Orihime breathed before Ichigo’s mouth was on hers, his lips holding nothing back as kissed her with all the desperation and hunger of a man starved. The radiating joy splashed over the burning desire thundering through his veins.

Orihime parted her lips as she let out a sound that would’ve embarrassed her outside of this situation. Instead, she felt exhilarated to an immeasurable degree. Her body quaked at the reverence and pure heat he poured into it. It was as if the dam of years of keeping everything bottled up in fear of losing each other burst and flooded them all at once.

She clenched her fingers in his hair as he delved his tongue into her mouth. Orihime felt her body fight between melting and being drawn taught, like a string on a bow. Ichigo’s hands slid down to her hips, flexing and gripping at her flannel pajama pants and flesh. She angled her head when he held her firmly, seeking out his tongue with her own.

Ichigo was quickly lost in the taste of her skin, the sounds she made and the feel of her. His nerve endings felt like they had caught fire. It was a sensory overload in everything Orihime. If he didn’t think he was greedy before, he certainly was now.

~~~(TBC)~~~

I certainly hope you all liked this! I should have the chapter finished bit up fairly soon. Thanks so much for reading!

Also— I’m uncertain why this isn’t showing up in the tags, so I’ll try it again.

#ihweek2021 #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #ichigo x orihime

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moon-lixie · 3 years

Text

Yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

word count: 3.699k

warnings: mentions of riots and guns.

genre: apocalyptic AU, slight enemies to lovers, fluff.

song: moya- Godspeed You! Black Emperor

The sound of the tv in the background didn’t allow Seungmin to concentrate on the only thing that seemed to matter to him at that moment, you.

What met his wide eyes was the familiar cream white walls that he could only associate with his home, because that’s exactly where he was, in his childhood house while you were away, not awfully so but still not close enough for him to reach out to you in the way he wanted.

If he had learnt something from this situation it was that he didn’t have many instances he would like to go back and fix, and that he had always seen you in the wrong way. Either because he liked living in denial or because —without noticing— he had become the most dense person to have ever existed.

And it was infuriating that he had only noticed now, having had plenty of time before he had only come to the realisation because of the end of—

The volume of the tv became louder and he had to bite back his urge to belligerently ask his parents to turn it down when he heard what was being said on the news.

‘Specialists have estimated that we have only 48 hours left before it becomes impossible to leave our houses due to the radiation. People have apparently taken this ultimatum just as predicted by many as unprecedentedly violent riots have started breaking out all across the globe,’ the woman on the news channel said, wearing a cool expression that he wished he could also keep in a situation like this.

On the screen various photos and videos of chaos flashed in an instance, flooding the small living room with an orange glimmer that came from the flames he saw as mere pixels.

Seungmin’s blood ran completely cold; yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

The first tear travelled down his left cheek and impacted against the wooden floor right when the barking of what sounded like all the dogs of the neighbourhood started resonating with force and alarm.

Hell was breaking loose not only all across the world but in his chest too, he felt too many and yet so little at the same time. His body began moving on an impulse as he took long strides towards the white entrance door. Feeling excessively heavy he let his weight fall to the ground as he sat and put his shoes on, taking special care of making a double knot on the shoelaces of the black converse he had been wearing the night before when he arrived.

It was hard but he still managed to stand up and open the door hastily; ignoring the questioning voice of his mother he began sprinting towards the sidewalk where some of the people he had grown up seeing greet him with vibrant smiles now wearing cold expressions and getting inside their cars with a definite goal in mind.

He couldn’t care less about getting his hands on material objects; just as before, he felt pleased with his life and the things he had, that sentiment wouldn't change just because his life was close to reaching its end.

The night before he had fallen asleep in his parent's room as they had all cried their eyes out and confessed the love they were already aware of. But now he needed to make one last confession, and that’s why he had to reach your side before it was too late. That’s the only reason why he ran.

The pavement punched his soles as his steps increased its pace, every step resonated against every centimetre of his body as he tried to move faster. His heart was beating on his throat and he knew it wasn’t because he was exhausted, he had just begun running after all, it had all to do with the words he had never wanted to say until today.

Desperately he wanted to figure out when had this feeling on his chest begun, when and how? And the current situation suddenly felt like the best way to figure it out, because as he felt the air hit against his face and knew the world was slowly crumbling around him, he felt like he was not only rushing to you but through memories as well.

He knew for sure that his feelings had nothing to do with that evening in the park back when you were both kids. Your hands wrapped tight around the handles of the mint green bike he had pointed out was hideous just because you seemed to love it so much, eyes soaked with innocence wavering with nervousness and little white sneakers sitting on the pedals.

The memory was quite vivid, how you had taken various deep breaths before your hesitant glare turned to one of determination and you voiced out that you were in fact ready to try on your own.

Your father let go of your bike and you began pedalling, screaming out in joy as you managed to move forward the first two meters completely unscratched before you fell. The consequences of your bravery were a scraped knee and tears that dried fast as you refused to keep crying when he started making fun of your fall.

Neither did it seem to be related with all of those petty fights that had taken place at school back when you felt like you were on top of the world with a perfect score on the chemistry test everyone else had flunked.

All of those instances in which he had gotten to erase a smug smirk from your lips came rushing back, specifically on those midterm tests where he had managed to get an almost perfect score on every single subject after having spent the prior three nights staying up until ungodly hours just to study. Because he wanted to win.

No, he wanted you to see him, even if it meant you were mad at him because he had outperformed you, he wanted to have your undivided attention if only for a couple of minutes and he cursed himself for not knowing better than to annoy you in order to get it.

The feeling constricting his chest had a lot to do with that evening in the eighth grade where the moon shone with a special glimmer. The park that had witnessed the both of you bicker and tease each other endlessly was then completely quiet while it cradled two teenagers sitting on the swings.

It had been around the time where you both seemed to come to terms with your stupid rivarly and accepted that it was just the way you two functioned. And so the late night meetings and the sitting together at lunch with your other mutual friends had become so usual that many times you had both taken it for granted.

“I kissed Felix, well, he kissed me,” you confessed, wearing a dumb grin on your lips, your eyes holding every star that had previously been on the sky that faced the unpleasant feeling harboring on his chest.

He was sure it had a lot to do with the bitter taste that congratulating you for it had left at the back of his mouth, and the annoyance he felt for the following weeks when he faced his freckled friend, because Felix had been your first kiss and not him.

A loud shattering sound interrupted his thoughts, he looked towards his right side without stopping for a second, being met with the image of one of his middle school classmates breaking the window of one of the establishments that were near your favourite ice cream spot downtown.

He hadn’t realized how far he had come while running, not even his ragged breath had done much to bring him out of his daze as opposed to the chaos that was turning his hometown into something that must look like hell.

Completely mortified was an understatement to explain how he felt about the situation, but he at least had the comfort of knowing that both you and his parents were far away from this mayhem, even if that meant he still had a considerable way to go before reaching you.

Nothing could stop him or at least that is what he thought before a flying tv crossed his eyesight, he stopped immediately, almost not being able to dodge the shoe that was thrown into someone else’s direction right after.

He would’ve laughed at the absurdity of both objects crossing his eyesight if it hadn’t been for a loud crash that made reality wash over him once and for all. Turning around he witnessed a blue pickup truck being consumed by greedy flames that threatened not to leave anything behind for the owner of the vehicle.

Right after, he became aware of the hysterical screams of everyone around him and just how many people were there running without a destination and taking as many things as they could hold in their hands.

Deep inside he wished there was a way to make all of this stop but he soon regretted that wish when a gunshot rippled over the loud voices. The world came to a stop for a second as some threw themselves to the floor and covered their heads —Seungmin included— and some others froze in place.

The chaos resumed soon after when the people still standing began running once again without direction, pushing each other and trying to pick up things others allowed to fall from their arms as they tried to escape.

He was trembling on the floor, eyes wide open and trying to take in every last detail he could. The person who had shot was standing on top of a black car, holding a handgun he definitely shouldn’t have. Their eyes were closed as he aimed somewhere else and he shot again.

Another wave of screams filled the city and he choked back a sob as he began crawling on the cold pavement. The sleeves of his jacket were picking up all the dirt of the floor and becoming stained perhaps forever, but that was the least of his worries.

His current goal was reaching the other sidewalk where some small houses were spread in order to keep himself alive, at least he thought that was his best shot for now.

The world seemed to want to prove him wrong, a blaring shriek uncovered that his crawling plan wasn’t fool proof. Beside him a car had barely managed to stop on time not to impact against him.

For what felt like a couple of minutes all he could see were the blinding yellow lights, his body completely frozen and unwilling to react even when his mind screamed that he needed to move.

“Are you alright?” asked a robust man that had stepped outside of the car and kneeled in front of him. And the answer was no, he wasn’t alright, nobody was, hell was consuming every inch of that place and he had no time to spare, not even 48 hours because he might just not make it through another one.

He should thank the man for taking its time to check on him even when Seungmin himself wouldn’t have stepped down from the car if he saw such atrocities taking place, but all he could do was stand up and run with all of his might.

One blue fence looked like the best place to hide behind, not that much as he tried to climb it and ended up falling to the floor where plush grass met his back and elbows. Thankfully he hadn’t hit his head.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he allowed his head to rest back atop the grass. In front of his eyes the sky had begun turning grey, the warning of yet another inconvenience waiting around the corner.

The unsuccessful attempt at climbing the fence had reminded him of that time he had tried to sneak to your house along with Jisung and Felix, who had planned to climb the fence of your backyard and then come inside from the back door that you would be waiting by.

Of course he had fallen to the floor just like now, grunting more loudly than he should’ve if your parents were asleep and unaware of their presence there —which they weren’t.

You had run towards him with a mocking grin on your face and told him, “you need to stop trying to be interesting because this is all you get from it. Just stick to your books and stay away from any physical activity.”

“Shut up,” he had scowled while sitting up, “I’m more athletic than you.”

“I apologize if I hurt your ego, mister star of the baseball team. But I’m pretty sure the fence did a better job at that than I could.” And he hated that you were right as much as he hated you and your stupidly pretty smile that would appear whenever you were amused.

Taking a deep breath he stood up with more determination than he had when he was in the middle of the main street. He had to make it there and tell you how he felt, even if it was the literal last thing that he managed to do.

He circled the small house and got out through the back door of the yard, taking special care of locking it afterwards, thinking of it as a favour he could do for the people that surely were inside that house facing the horror of the collective hysteria.

There was no time to waste, that was the only certainty that humankind had been given and so he resumed his running, pushing his tired legs to make the most of all of those years of being on the baseball team because that had to be worth something, right?

While running he had always allowed his mind to drift to wherever it pleased, especially back in high school on the early trainings where his coach would send them to run three laps around the school.

Right then and there his mind went back in time once again, this time to a similar instance to the one he underwent. It was in the middle of training when he had heard you had injured yourself and Jisung had taken you to the infirmary.

Of course the worried Felix forgot to mention that you had only twisted your ankle while going down the stairs, nothing more and nothing else. The days that followed he found himself wondering if he would have ran with such desperation if he had been aware of that detail or if he perhaps would’ve experienced the same need of having to see you.

He ran and ran, up the stairs and through the hallways where he had previously scolded people for doing so, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t slow down until he saw you were alright; and when he finally made sure of it, it was his heart that would refuse to slow down.

After making sure you were okay he had waited by your side, cracking light hearted jokes and making fun of you for being so clumsy when in reality all that he wanted was to hold your hand and sigh loudly in relief. He was such a big idiot for not realising it sooner.

He had always been too scared, of you and especially of the things you made him feel that he couldn’t quite put into words; never knowing exactly how to act around you he had acted like an idiot on many occasions. Not that he was the only one at fault, you could be pretty rude too when you put your mind to it.

Just like at that party in your senior year of high school in which everyone had agreed to the genius idea of playing spin the bottle, which had ultimately resulted in the both of you cramped inside Jisung’s messy closet.

“We don’t have to do anything, in fact, I won’t even touch you so you don’t have to be worried,” he had told you, trying to avoid looking directly at your eyes that were too close for comfort.

“Just say that you’re a coward and stop trying to pretend you’re not doing anything to be a gentleman.” The tone of your voice was outright mocking and it made his blood boil with annoyance.

“I’m not a coward,” he retorted almost right away, “as a matter of fact I could kiss you right here and now but I won’t because you’re going to make a fuss just like you always do.”

What was it about the presence of the other that always made the both of you turn into childish idiots and take stupid decisions? He sincerely had no idea but it happened again after you spoke next. “You don’t have the guts to do it.”

“Watch me.”

The skin of your cheeks felt searing against his palms; your loud friends outside seemed to go silent as if they had a way of knowing he was leaning ever so slowly towards you.

Once he could feel your breath fanning over his lips he looked at your eyes, asking for permission despite his initial impulse of just proving you wrong. You nodded softly before closing your eyes and he finally did it, he kissed you like he had wanted to do since god knows when.

Your lips moved softly against his, warming up his chest and the now rosy skin of his cheeks. He wanted to stay there forever and kiss you until he had robbed you of every breath you could have but you pushed away before he had the chance to.

Confusion had been painted clearly on his face but you didn’t even seem to notice or you simply didn’t care as you pushed open the doors of the closet and loudly declared that the idea was so stupid that you wouldn’t go throught wiht it, that you didn’t want to kiss him not for seven minutes or seven seconds when all he wanted then was to kiss you forever.

Stupid Seungmin, stupid. He chanted in his head as he saw the building of your apartment come closer with every single one of his steps.

He should’ve kissed you more, asked you to prom, he should’ve insisted on hugging you a bit longer the last time you both saw each other, he should’ve told you he loved you, he needed to.

Upon entering the building on the outside of the city where you had decided to settle a year ago, he looked around only to find an eerie silence greeting him. The place wasn’t particularly lively, but this was a contrast that made him shiver.

He looked towards the elevator and quickly discarded that idea, he still remembered how he had to carry box after box up the stairs when you moved here because the elevator was “temporarily” out of order; what the landlord had forgotten to mention was that temporarily meant always for him.

You lived on the fifth floor which usually didn’t present much of an inconvenience but having run across the whole city he felt like his knees were about to give up and no amount of determination could push them to function any better. Nevertheless you were so close already that he couldn’t even think of giving up.

Kim Seungmin had never been one to quit easily nor one to let anxiety persuade him from going after he wanted, and so, mind set on staying true to himself and being well aware that he had nothing else to lose, he knocked on your door three times, just like he always used to.

A couple of minutes passed by until he heard a loud gasp behind the door before he saw you step outside into the hallway with a confused expression painting your beautiful face different from what he remembered.

Was it silly that he just wanted to see you smile?

“What are you doing h—” Your sentence was cut short by the sobs that escaped from in between his lips once he hugged you close to his chest.

He had made a recount of every moment he had spent with you, about every touch and every word you had ever exchanged and used it as a fuel to run away from the chaos that could’ve killed him and all he wanted was you.

Despite all the chaos, hysteria, despite the end of the world, he had run all the way there just because of you.

“I love you,” he said once he had calmed down and you had pulled him inside your apartment, “I love you so much and I was the biggest idiot in the world for not noticing sooner.”

With him your gaze was rarely as soft and comforting as the one you gave him now, with him things had always been complicated because both decided to play dumb, he knew that now.

Your hand travelled to brush his hair away from his face and ultimately to cup the left side of his face where a small scratch had slipped its way on his face on his way there. He melted into the touch and closed his eyes feeling a foreign pain begin taking over his chest.

“The world is ending and you ran all the way here?” you asked seemingly amused, though he couldn’t ignore the slightly worried undertone to your comment.

“I don’t care, I love you,” he whispered back, like a broken record, he believed himself only capable of repeating those three words over and over again.

“You’ve always been an idiot.” Your eyes were filled with tears as you hugged him and brought his head to rest on your shoulder. “But I love you too.”

He began crying once again, because he was terrified and amazingly regretful of not telling you before. But despite of the world falling apart, he finally had you.

#kpop #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #seungmin fluff

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kaalamarii · 4 years

Text

XOXO (MammonxMC)

This was written for @lumiere-morningstar 💛

Summary: From the chat where Mammon gets a letter he thinks is from MC. MC writes him a letter everyday and Mammon puts them aside, thinking they’re just from Lucifer.

Warnings: Sad Mammon, fluff

Masterlist

“Here,” MC said, standing in front of Mammon. He was sprawled out on the couch in the common room scrolling through his D.D.D. He looked up, cocking an eyebrow at the pretty girl before him.

She tossed the envelope in her hand down to him and it landed in his lap.

“What’s this?” Mammon asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.

“Just...read it in your room, okay? Not out here.”

Mammon felt his heart flutter as MC walked off, leaving him there to hold the envelope in his hand.

A sealed envelope from MC...that he was to read in his room? Mammon couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. A love letter...MC just gave HIM a love letter!

Mammon’s heart was beating, his hands shaking as he gripped the letter, speed walking to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the door, holding the letter to his chest.

An actual love letter. From MC.

Finally, it was confirmed. MC felt the same for him as he felt for her. I need to get her a present, Mammon thought. Something nice. Something expensive.

But first, he had to brag.

(Mammon:) Ahem.

Oh boy, he couldn’t wait till his stupid brothers heard about this.

(Mammon:) AHEM!

(Mammon:) HEY! Someone say somethin’!

(Belphie:) No way. I get the feeling it’s going to be something annoying.

(Levi:) Yeah, tell me about it.

Mammon scoffed. Rude. Every last one of ‘em.

(Mammon:) A-H-E-M!

(Satan:)Okay, fine. I don’t care what it is, so just say it already.

(Asmo:) It sounds like he wants to brag about something.

Mammon smiled proudly, sending the ‘Yes!’ sticker.

(Mammon:) Listen up and be amazed! I, The Great Mammon, have received a love letter from MC!

(Belphie:) Huh?

(Levi:) He must be hallucinating again.

(Mammon:) I’m not hallucinatin’! It’s a letter inside a pretty lil envelope? What else could it be besides a love letter?

(Beel:) you mean you haven’t opened it yet?

(Mammon:) Well, it’s kinda sealed shut. Besides, can’t a guy savor the moment a bit before he opens it?

(Belphie:) Wow, I never pegged you as the type.

(Mammon:) Hey! Whaddya mean by that?

I’ll have ya know I’m quite the gentleman! Besides, MC told me to read the letter by myself in my room ❤

And that’s exactly what I plan on doin’.

(Satan:) Well open it up then, “Mr. Gentleman”

(Levi:) Yeah, I don’t think you will be savoring the moment for long after you take a look at what’s inside.

(Mammon:) Ugh, fine! Gimme a moment.

Mammon took a deep breath, shakily and carefully opening the envelope. This was it. He’d finally know for sure that she returned his feelings. Then, she’d be his, and only his. It was like a dream come true, he’d be able to hold her, kiss her, and go on dates with her.

He pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

The demon’s face fell, and he sank to the floor, holding the letter in one hand and the envelope in the other.

(Belphie:) Mammon’s grown awfully silent.

(Lucifer:)That is because the ‘love letter’ is from me. Although I call it an “official written demand of repayment.”

(Levi:)Ha! What a noob, lol.

Mammon felt an aching in his heart and tears started to fall from his eyes, landing on the long list of debts. Every ounce of excitement, of hope, every thought of he and MC being happy and in love, shattered. Mammon balled up the paper and threw it across the room.

He was angry at Lucifer, but he expected something like this from Lucifer. But not MC. MC didn’t make fun of Mammon like his brothers did. She never called him stupid or scum. She even stood up for him most of the time. Mammon couldn’t believe MC was a part of this cruelty. That hurt a hundred times more than anything his brothers could say to him, any torture Lucifer had for him.

Mammon wiped his eyes, getting up to grab his precious Goldie. He stormed out of the house, determined to max out the credit card to get his mind off MC’s betrayal.

“I haven’t seen Mammon in a couple days,” MC stated at breakfast, looking over at the chair next to her where the second born always sat.

“Oh, he ran off to sulk,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly. “I gave him a list of things he needs to pay off.”

“Is that what was in the envelope you had me give to him?”

“Yep.”

Leviathan’s laugh interrupted the conversation. “That moron thought it was actually from MC. As if MC would be interested in a scumbag like Mammon.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” MC shook her head. “You gave me a letter to give to Mammon so he’d think it was from me?”

“Of course. Why else would I have you deliver it?”

“I just thought it was because I’m always with him.”

“Sure,” Satan offered up, “But also if Mammon knew the letter was from Lucifer, he wouldn’t have opened it.”

“Exactly,” said Lucifer, agreeing with Satan for once.

“That’s kinda fucked up, don’t you think?”

“Mammon’s fucked up,” Satan responded.

Asmo sighed. “Seriously MC, I don’t know why you’re so close with Mammon. He acts nice to you, but he’d sell you for a few Grimm.”

MC scoffed. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“Mammon is scum,” Levi spoke up again. “Don’t feel bad for him.”

“Wow,” MC replied, getting up to leave. “You should all really think about how you treat Mammon.”

Heading back to her room, she grabbed a pen and notebook out of her backpack and sat down to write.

Mammon,

I heard you wanted a letter from me.

I’m so sorry that your brothers are dicks to you. I don’t think you’re scum, Mammon. I think you’re sweet and smart and funny, and I love spending time with you.

You’re pretty much my best friend.

Love, MC

P.S. Sorry for giving you that letter from Lucifer. I didn’t know what he was up to, I promise. Xoxo

She sealed in it an envelope and wrote his name with a heart. She snuck to Mammon’s room and set it on his pillow. MC was a bit embarrassed by what she wrote, hoping he wouldn’t find it creepy or weird. She wished that he’d be back soon.

Mammon snuck in late after being gone for a week, body and head exhausted and hungover, he crawled into bed and passed out.

When he woke up, he yawned and stretched before noticing the letter on the bed next to him. He picked it up, scoffed, and tossed it across the room.

There was a new envelope everyday.

Somedays, MC would slip them under his door. Sometimes she’d hand them directly to him. They’d be waiting for him in his room, on his bed again, on his couch. Each time, Mammon would feel a pang in his stomach. He so badly wanted to open them. Maybe one would actually be a letter from her.

But of course it wouldn’t be.

MC would never see him like that. Why would she? Mammon was nothing but a greedy, scummy, piece of shit. His brothers made that clear, and now they had MC joining forces with them.

So the pile of letters grew, a small mountain of various colored envelopes.

When he gets one with a lipstick kiss on the envelope, Mammon loses it. He grabs the pile of discarded envelopes and storms to Lucifer’s office, dumping all of them onto the desk directly on top of whatever Lucifer was working on.

“Mammon, what the f-”

“Ya gotta stop doin’ this to me, Lucifer. Look, I’ll repay everything. I’ll go get a job or something, but please, please, stop getting MC to give me these. I get my hopes up and I know they’re just bills and I can’t anymore. It’s killin’ me.”

Mammon was embarrassed at how emotional he was being, whining and crying to his older brother.

Lucifer stared at the envelopes. “Mammon, these aren’t from me.”

“Whaddya sayin’! Of course they are!”

“No, they’re not.” Lucifer picked up one and ripped it open.

Mammon,

I know you don’t read these which I guess is why I keep writing them. I know that makes no sense. But it helps to write about my feelings for you. It’s a relief to be able to tell you how much I love you, cause I know I can never do it in person.

xoxo,

“Oh...um, Mammon. I think you should read these.”

“You guys are probably just playing tricks on me again.”

Lucifer shoved the letter in Mammon’s face. Mammon wiped his eyes and read over the letter, his heartbeat speeding up.

“This is really her handwriting,” he said in shock.

Lucifer nodded.

“The stupid human really wrote all of these.”

Mammon grinned like mad, gathering all of the letters and rushing back to his room. He threw them onto his bed and sat, cross legged, reading each and every one of them.

A few of them were simple doodles of the two of them and Goldie. Most of them had words of encouragement for him, telling him that she thought he was sweet and a good person (Despite being a literal demon). In every single one was confessions of love and appreciation.

Mammon brought out his D.D.D. and text MC, telling her to come to his room.

MC was thrilled to get a text from Mammon. They hadn’t been spending a lot of time together, and he had barely spoken to her since the day of the first letter. MC slipped on some leggings and an oversized t-shirt and got to Mammon’s room as quickly as she could.

When she saw the opened letters on the bed with him, she grew red. Oh shit.

“Um...you opened the letters.”

Mammon nodded. “Whaddya thinkin’, writing letters like this for me?”

“Mammon, I’m sorry...just f-forget you ever read them.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? You’re the only one who’s ever nice to me, ya know? And now I know how you really feel…”

MC groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“Of course ya like the Great Mammon! Everyone does. But, uh, iloveyoutooMC.”

“Wait, what?” MC peeked from behind her hand. “Did you just say…”

“Yeah, yeah. Come ‘ere, you!”

Mammon gently grabbed MC’s arm, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against his lips. They fell back onto his bed, ripped envelopes and love letters crumbled underneath them. MC rested her head on Mammon’s chest as he pulled her close, both of them smiling wide.

“Does this mean I can stop writing you letters?”

“Ya better not! I expect one first thing tomorrow.”

Mammon planted a small kiss on the top of her head.

Finally, he knew for sure that the human was his.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfiction #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #sad mammon #protect mammon #he is best boi #moronsexual #omswd #mywriting

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isbus · 3 years

Text

The City

Summary

Adam begins his adventure at the main spot for Greedy demons.

Chapter 2: All Bets Are Off

“What else do they have here?” I ask before regretting my decision as I knew, they have everything... don’t they? I groaned as he started listing off things such as clubs, restaurants, museums, casinos, wait, casinos? That sounds fun! Let’s go to the casino! I hope I’ll see King Dice or someone like that! “Let’s go to the casino!”

“Which one? The Bettigan Casino is the most popular but if you want the least popular then...” he trailed off as I fake-snored. “Soo... you want the Bettigan Casino?”-I nod-“Alright, basic bitch casino it is.” He took my hand and dragged me out of the club to the packed streets, looking for bright lights and loud sounds as if he was a zombie. “This way, sidekick.”

Sam walked over to the right and over through an alley filled with moans, and groans, and lascivious noises just to be in front of a very bright building that was covered in multiple different lights. We entered through the velvet doors and saw multiple crazy sights- beautiful people playing outrageous games, many creatures with instruments playing on a stage, and people watching the music being played.

“Wow... this place is huge!” I shake Sam with excitement and energy. I could hear Rock It For Me by Caravan Palace being played by the band but it quickly ended and soon Trouble by Cage the Elephant started. A girl with blonde hair and a red dress with a card skirt began to sing. “What should we do?” I was out-of-my-mind excited.

“Haven’t you been in a casino before?” he asked, sounding curious as if the sights were new to him as well.

“No, I died at 19.” I say matter-of-factly. He groans in response.

“Shit, I died at 21 and didn’t get a chance to go to a casino so... I guess we’re both fucked on the thought of doing something here...” he looked down at his shoes before hearing the clicks from the shoes of someone who stood over him. He looked up when seeing his shadow overlapped by another man’s shadow.

“Hello there, I’m Spade Clubs, but please, call me one or the other.” He smiled with pearly white teeth and pale rose lips. He had a brown quiff, a blue vest, dark blue slacks, a green club tie, a club mark next to his mouth, a green and blue top hat, and dark forest green dress shoes. His smile, which was directed towards Sam, suddenly became a grin when seeing me stare. “Are you curious, Adam?”

“How do you know my name?” I ask. He chuckles back at me and pushes my fringe aside to look at me in both of my eyes.

“I can see your horns, Adam.” I stare into his club and spade pupils as his face gets close to mine. He immediately backs up and laughs. “I’m kidding! I know it because I have my own Dead Encyclopedia!” I look awfully scared as he asks what’s up.

“Oh, you got me, that’s all.” I felt the top of my head for safe measures. He laughs some more at my reaction, making me sound a little irritated at his annoying laugh. I bet some girl in the audience thinks it’s sexy. I laughed along with him before continuing to talk. “So, What should we do here?” I ask.

“What do you feel like doing? Playing games? Listening to music? Having fun?” He whispered the last question just to wink.

“None of that, we’re not fags!” Sam tried to defend before saying another word. “You’re not gay, right?” I shake my head.

“I didn’t say you had to have me, you could have Diamond if you wanted to. But that’s not the point... you can do anything you want down here including eating broccoli soup with belladonna leaves! So, do what you wanna do, eat what you wanna eat, play what you wanna play, and so on and so forth.” His hands done weird gestures as he spoke about what happens down here. He laughed after he was done explaining. “So, I’ll help you out with what you can do down in Mr. Bettigan’s Casino of Fun and- well- fun!”

I smile as he begins to push us towards a table by a window. We sat down and watched as the star of the show sing the final parts of the song. She vocalized at the end before exiting the stage. I noticed Spade walk over to the backstage but I couldn’t tell what was happening from there. Suddenly I saw them both walk out from backstage and walk towards our table. Women were vocalizing and once I looked on the stage, I saw a bowl of clam chowder sat on a stool behind the microphone.

“How do you do? I see you met my faithful waiting-man.” She sung to the beat. I noticed that the clam chowder, as anyone would expect, wasn’t singing. She smiled. “Alright I’m done with the jokes. I’m Diamond Hearts. What’s your name? Isn’t it Adam Vil?”

I nearly shouted in rage from how pretty much everyone I met knew my name. “Yes, how’d you know?” I asked, sounding a tad annoyed..

“Oh, this is simple, it goes a little like Spade-told-me-everything.” She laughed. “Now, what would you like to do? Eat, drink, play, or all of the above?” I was hungry so I told her that I wanted to do all of the above starting with food. Spade moved over to the a door which I presumed lead to the kitchen and came out with menus in the crook of his arm. Diamond took one from Spade and then passed it over to me. Spade gave the other one to Sam while looking over at Diamond with a sincere smile.

“Touch the button in the middle whenever you’re ready to order and I’ll be rushing to your table in a matter of time.” He directed his smile to us before strutting over to the entrance where he began to wait for the next people to enter. I pulled up the menu that was handed to me and searched the menu for something that suited my fancy.

Sam on the other hand, looked over the menu then put it down with the speed of Usain Bolt. He looked over at me as I gave him a questioning stare. “What? All I want is a bottle of whiskey and some chicken tenders.” He nearly shouted. Spade heard that and rushed over to our table.

“Didn’t I tell you that you have to press the button? But never mind your mistake, I presume you’re ready to order?” He asked sounding kind to cover up his anger. “You,”-he pointed to Sam-“ordered whiskey and chicken tenders; couldn’t forget that for the world. So, Adam, what would you like?” He looked over at me— was his spade pupil always on the left side?

“I want vodka and Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes.” I simply stated while Sam glared.

“Oh! How exciting and different that is! I’ll get my cooks to make it the best just for you as you ARE the prince of Hell.” He giggled like a girl then ambled over to the kitchen. I stared at Sam as he glanced back at me from time to time.

He sounded irritated as he asked me the most boring question. “What?”

“Nothing but one question; why whiskey and chicken tenders?” I didn’t know what to ask so I just asked a question that was in the back of my head and should have not been asked. It was awkward cause I knew what his response was, “Why should I tell you”, or “It’s because my family liked it”. But I never would guess anything like what he said.

“I ate that when I died,” I assumed that his food was poisoned or something until I was fully aware of why their was a noose around his neck and a shirt that said ‘Beer Pong Champ’ in black sharpie on the blank canvas of a shirt. “Before I killed myself, I was drinking and eating that same meal. But then I got so drunk, I must’ve hung myself.”

My heart was tugged at as he spoken about his death. “That’s depressing...” I mumbled. I thought about my death and realized that we had similarities. "Wait,"

"What?" He quickly responded.

I thought about it some more before continuing the conversation. "I had a friend when I was alive who committed suicide while intoxicated. Could that have been you?" I looked at him in the eyes.

"I- Maybe... But my Adam didn't know his dad- Wait. That explains everything! No wonder we get along so well!" He reached over the table with his arms out for a hug. I rejoiced in my head and done the same as him. Our arms wrapped around each other as we smiled.

When we were in the middle of said hug, we heard someone clear their throat. "Hot food and cold drinks are here!" We stopped hugging, sat back down, and looked to see Spade with a tray of food. "Thank you." He smirked with a singy-song voice. Spade sat the food down in our respective areas along with the drinks towards the tops of our knives.

"Thanks, Spade!" We both conveyed to him.

He laughed since we were synchronized when speaking. "It's nothing as long as you pay the bill." Spade howled with laughter. "Now let me leave you two lovebirds alone." He began to walk away before we could start protesting against his words. Sam shook his head.

"Never really liked the king, or the queen, or any of the card demons. They're all just bad people." Sam mumbled under his breath.

I was very confused. "Who and what are you talking about?" I asked him like if I didn't know I was gonna die... again.

Sam glared at Spade as he sashayed away. "Don't you know? He's the king of black cards, Diamond is the queen of red cards, there's two more but they don't go with the suits. They're just jack and joker. The people who run this place are card demons. They suffer from the sin of greed. Like Spade's death; he used to bet his life for a abundance of money."

"Wow... I didn't think of that..." Then I started to think of the other sins.

If they suffer from the sin of greed then there must be at least six other sins to deal with in my venture through The City...

"Uh, hello? Ya there?" Sam snapped me back into reality with his rough voice that makes me- wait. I nearly said something I might regret... oOpS

"Oh! Uh.. yeah just thinking." I responded awkwardly.

"Don't think to much; those demons of Lovers Land really like a man who can think without his dick." He laughed. I didn't laugh until I came to realize that maybe the demons there might be strippers. I bet they work at a club like 'Satan is my Daddy'.

"Haha, yeah." He was really funny for a guy with such a tragic backstory. Although, that makes sense since that one comedian said something about funny people being depressed and stuff. I can't remember the exact quote. But instead of dwelling on his sadness, I decided to eat.

Once he remembered that he had food, after seeing me dig in, he took a few bites. "It seems they put a little bit of hearts hormones on my chicken tenders..." he told himself.

"Of course we did!" Spade loomed over Sam and smiled with closed eyes. Suddenly opening them to see his pupils switched from what we were used to. "What better way to knock out the prince of Hell's friend?" That sincere smiled changed to a sinister grin.

"Good thing that chef of yours put in only one shot." Out of fucking nowhere, the glass shattered leaving us with, surprisingly, no cuts? Once our eyes opened from the shock, we looked over to our right to see (insert LoZ Chest Opening Music here) a man with messy blonde hair, a decorative mask, and a Vega-like* costume.

"Prince Adam," He began, his words muffled by the mask since it had no mouth holes. "It's time to meet your fate... AGAIN!" He shouted while drawing his sword, a blood stained katana.

"Who in (censored)'s name are you?!" His eyes, which you could barely tell, widened.

"How dare you speak the un-lord's name in vain?! No wonder the king sent me here to kill you... again." You could barely tell but he began glaring at me. "I wonder how many cuts it'll take for the Devil's son to officially die..."

Sam throws a bottle down to get the guy's attention. "I bet you won't be able to cut him at all!"

The man, about to cut me, stopped at the word 'bet'. "What are you going to give me in return?"

"This!" He holds up a hand grenade which was covered in rust and had an upside down cross.

It was clear that he wanted it, by the way he stared in awe. "The 'Unholy Hand Grenade'?! How did you get your hands on that?!"

"Does it matter? It's yours if you manage to slice him at least once." Sam winks at me.

"Did you just wink at him?"

"Of course not. Why?"

"I swore you did..."

"If you keep it up I won't give you it."

"Ugh!" The man rushes towards me with his katana. "Give me everything you got, Adam!" He begins by jabbing at me, which I avoided by backing up. I tripped over a table, but I immediately got behind it. Once I thought I was safe, he stabbed through the round table. If I was any closer, it would be through my head.

I thought he would pull it out and try stabbing in a different area of the table, but he actually lifted the table with his sword. What is his sword made of?!

I tried running away but, before I could, he grabbed my shirt. Then I remembered Sam's wink. I thought quickly about what it meant, then I saw him about to slice my neck. My first instinct was to put my arm in front of my neck.

I looked at my arm, and there was a deep, bloody, cut. I was about to scream in fear and pain, but I realized something very weird. There was no pain. I didn't feel the cut or anything. I might be imagining things, but, it looked like it was beginning to close up.

"I did it!" He shouted. "Now, give me that Unholy Hand Grenade and I will end this!"

Sam slightly grins. "Alright," he starts taking the pin out. "I will." The masked man's mask falls off and shows his terror.

"NO! PLEASE, NO!" He yells in a plea. Once the pin was nearly out, a man with blonde hair, a yellow shirt and sneakers, and a jacket with pants (both black), snatched the hand grenade out of Sam's hand- pin and all.

"Yoinked!" He grins. "Buh-Bye!" He throws his hand down as if he thrown a smoke bomb, then yellow smoke filled the room, and he was gone.

Everyone who was still here, coughed and gagged on the smoke. People opened the windows to air out the yellow fog, and saw something that kids shouldn't see. Where the man was standing when he 'Yoinked' the Unholy Hand Grenade, was a mini slot machine which had a dancing stick figure*.

"Damn. My most expensive item." He looked down.

I quickly changed the subject. "Sam, where are we going next, anyway?"

- NOTES -

*1: Vega is a character from the Street Fighter franchise who I inspired the Masked man Jack O. Trades off of.

*2 The Dancing Stick figure is a reference to Henry Stickman (GET DISTRACTED)

#the city #tw cursing #demons and angels #original fiction #original story #religious references #pop culture references #song references #second chapter #original characters #funny jokes #bad jokes #sex jokes #fucking hell #literally #isbus

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porrokin · 3 years

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“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

#writing #first chapter #story #storytelling #english story #fantasy #non acnh #mine

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secretsofthedarkestkind-arch · 3 years

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For @storieswrittcn

My Heart, While I now understand why you have not replied to my last two letters, I am not happy. Harper promised me nothing was wrong as did Pearl, simply telling me that you were caught up in things there. I am learning to trust their word as you do, however, when it comes to your well being only your words will do. As selfish as it appears, I wish you had warned me. For the last time you did not reply, you were trying to let me go. Something you promised to never let happen again.

I know that you love me, that I am yours as you are mine. When we don’t talk though old insecurities rise within me. I have spent the last week and a half reading over your letters to sooth my soul and banish the fear you are leaving me. Much has happened since you last wrote me, which I will get into later on in this letter.

I hope Emily can provide you with what you are looking for, give you the knowledge you need. Get from Chicago what you have gone there for, as I agreed before do what you must.

You know my dreams of seeing the world, if I had it my way we would see everything. I will go wherever you wish to go, see the parts of the world you love. All I ask is that you explore new places with me, ones you have not yet seen as well. I want to live, Katerina. For when or if our eternity ever ends, I want to say I have seen it all. I want all those memories of our adventures in my head as my last thoughts. The world is to be our blank pages, our travels it’s story, and our love it’s binding. To die will be an awfully big adventure, at least if I have any say in it.

Danger is fun, I agree. But when it dares to cross the line of taking you from me or me from you--the fun is lost. Remember that, my heart. I would never deny you fun nor would I try to stop you, I love you for who you are and how you are. You may be hard to kill but it can be done.

The world is a dark and morbid place, I know this even living in a town such as Mystic Falls. People are corrupt, heartless, ruthless in their acts when they want to be or some are born that way it seems. So the idea of people not missing someone who has chosen a life that falls outside of what society sees as right, it does not surprise me you can feed from them and not be caught. Nor it cause an investigation.

I know you will return to me, even if old insecurities rose this last week and a half, I do believe that and I know you’d never do anything to alert him to where you might be. It warms me though that it is now partly because you plan to come home to me. I will be your home, Katerina. Just as you will be mine. I trust you, my heart. So much.

Animal attacks are something I am learning aren’t as they seem to be. The one’s here are going up. Pearl swears it is not her or Annabell, I know their words true. It makes me wonder who is doing so. If they are not careful the council will take action I fear. John Gilbert is taking seeming nonsense of creating items to help detect and kill your kind. Am I supposed to know that? No. But I will not sit by when I know conversations are happening in my own home that could cause issues to you and our plans.

I cannot imagine you drunk. I am not a fan of it. Father is a drunk, has been since I can remember, though he hides it well. Until tucked away in our home or his temper flares. Damon is not far off from it. I still remember mother’s funeral...he was supposed to be there, promised Stefan he would be, but instead he went out drinking only to stumble home later. I, myself, have never been drunk. Never had more than a few sips. Maybe with you I would enjoy it. But I am not certain. Only time will tell.

Thinking of you drinking from me has my heart beating faster in the most pleasant of ways and stirs other feelings within me. So the torture is not only yours to bare, love. I miss the way you hold me when you drink, the feel of your fangs piercing my skin, how your lips on me send sparks through my veins, and the things it does to my mind--as if I am floating and all that exists is us. I believe the feeling is one a person on drugs may feel. If it is, I understand why people chase that feeling. Being able to give you what you need to live, sating your darkest desires? I know I am becoming greedy, but that is something only I should be able to give you. That experience only ours to have.

When I see you, you can drink as much from me as you wish. You know this my heart. My blood, as is my heart and soul, is yours. All you need is to ask or take, I won’t deny the thrill of not knowing when you’ll bite. But just this time, we need to be careful. To make sure I do not unknowingly have Vervain in my system before you truly drink.

Emily is coming here with you? A new twist but one I will welcome. It is hard for me to picture someone more powerful than you. But if that is true, I am glad she is on your side. Niklaus will not expect many things when the day comes, he will be the one unprepared and I will enjoy the look on his face when he realizes Katerina Petrova--Katherine Pierce--has bested him. I wish I could make that day come sooner, stop him now and rid you of him. But I will wait and help as much as possible--human or other.

I am glad you think my words wise and correct. It means I understand, which is something I need for the life to come. Only certain actions in my mind can truly be deemed as dark, even then they do not deal with magic and are only actions that cannot be excused or said to be done in need of survival. My father is a prime example of that. There is no excuse for how he treated my mother or Damon--now I agree with him when it comes to my brother--or how he treats me. His actions come from a place of darkness the church says actually should be in me. Maybe I do have it within me. But as I said, whose to have the right to say what is within me as dark? Cannot it not come from a place of dire need or love?

I know of your acts, I know what you have done or could do. But I cannot see you as dark. I cannot see your actions as dark either. As you’ve said, they were done to protect yourself, survive. How can I see them as something evil when it kept you alive to find me? Everything you have done led you to that train, led you to me. And every act you have done since? Well, it keeps you alive so you can come back to me. Anything you will do once we are together, as you said, will be for our survival--for our life to go on together. I cannot see wrong in that. That might possibly confirm what the church believes, what my family and community do as well. But so be it. I cannot deny I will not do the same to make sure you are safe.

Have you not already taken my innocence, love? Have you not already enjoyed that? So many wonderful memories in my mind have a smirk on my lips as I write that. And if I did not tease you, it would be a shame. Though on a serious note, my innocence is something that time will take regardless if I am at your side or not. My father took and continues to take some each time he raises his fists to me or uses objects within our home that weren’t designed for that. Damon takes part of it each time he spews words of damnation on me or is caustic like mother. Stefan takes some with each narrow look or assumption he makes. My innocence has been fading since this town learned to call me Lee instead of Liam.

If you take more of it, at least it would be lost to someone I love and fully trust---it would be done so in living my life with you and in a way I wish it to be taken. I can accept that. The innocence in my wonder of the world or all there is to learn may just be the only part that remains and if it is, well at least it will be there in the passions I have. So how can that be seen as a negative outcome?

You may take my innocence but I just might be able to give you some of yours back. As silly as it sounds--maybe you will see the places we wish to go through my eyes, maybe you will find my joy in my studies and art just as interesting and see them as I do in a way that brings that innocent Katerina back….maybe, just maybe my love for you will always awake a piece of you long since buried. We will balance each other out. Not changing each other, but helping each other grow---even if your growth is only toward me as it has been thus far.

I am careful with the guns, I know their power and the harm they can cause. I only wanted to learn for our future. Harper was hesitant and over careful as he did so. But if it puts your mind to rest, I will stop. Damon caught us anyway. His pride and ego showed its ulgy head when he realized I am better at shooting than he is. But how can one truly shoot when they hate the reason they are shooting or are cowardly? People say he is a coward and at times I do agree. He is irresponsible and has no sense of duty or commitment, and a complete sexist.

I seem to be rambling, my heart, I am sorry. But he truly gets under my skin. The way he chases women, uses them and then leaves them. It disgusts me. He has no idea what loyalty or true love are. I know when you appear, he will chase and I will want to murder him. You are not a prize to be won, but a heart to be given and cherished. I am sorry. I shouldn’t be thinking of him as we write, he is not a topic I want to discuss.

There is not a doubt in my mind that you can protect yourself, but my love for you makes me want to help. I know I am merely human, fragile and so easy to kill. But that’s why I am learning ways to defend myself and fire a weapon. It is a desire that will forever continue. To be able if the need comes to protect you. There are so many different weapons on this earth--I would love to learn how to fight with a sword or daggers. If not for protection than to learn more discipline. Surely, you wouldn’t deny me that? Deny my passion to learn?

But just as I have listened to your words to wait for you to be by my side for learning more about guns, as I decided not to take the risks at the falls---I will promise you not to act foolishly when it comes to my desire to protect you. If I am to die in protecting you, then it would not be worth it, correct? I will use my mind before I act, always thinking of what could happen if I interfere while still human.

If a party is something you wish to do, I will go. As promised you will make it worth it. When the day comes and I can walk in as myself, it will still be me showing you off. Or have you forgotten everywhere you go, eyes always land on you? Women envious or secretly wanting you while every man wants you to be on his arm. You beauty and pose something everyone wants in their own ways. You are the star, I will simply be there as the lucky bastard to have you on her arm.

This town will be a memory as you said soon enough. While I love you for the fact you would compel this whole place for me if you could, it is not worth it. Though since you last replied, I have met someone who could be a friend. Her name is Madeline, she had just moved here while I was away to see you and my aunt last summer. She was friends with a young woman Stefan met--from his words and fell in love with. However, she broke his heart at the end. Apparently I missed that whole torrid romance while having my own. I don’t know the details of it, he wouldn’t share them. But he did warn me to be careful with Madeline. While she seems a genuine person, Stefan has some notion that she will not be a good friend.

He also questioned, as suspected, if I was going to cause the family more drama than I already have by having an affair with her. Stefan, the saint and treasured child. While Damon and I are seen as the stains on our family name. One a coward, irresponsible, womanizer, and heavy drinker while the other is an abomination so ill in the head she is afflicted with the desire for women. The Scumlike Salvatore and the Sick Salvatore, what a pair we make while Saint Stefan hordes fathers love and the town's admiration. Of course, I told him no. That I had no interest in the girl past friendship. I am not sure if he believed me. But Annabelle doesn’t seem to trust her either. Something to do with the way she smells. I have no clue what she’s talking about. But Madeline doesn’t judge me, she’s open minded and has tales of seeing other parts of the states. It is nice to have met someone not from here that has an interest in being my friend regardless of what others have told her. Maybe that is where Annabelle’s paranoia comes from, having to share my time. I do not know if you’d like her or not. I guess we will have to see.

Even my father is questioning me these days about spending time with her and Annabelle. Though his way is not only with words. He found me, Madeline, and Annabelle coming back from the falls--not in a dress but Stefan’s old clothes, all three of us wet from the water, you can imagine his reaction. I made both girls leave before he could show his temper in front of them, though I knew Annabelle did not wish to.

Pearl says the scars along my back will not ever fully leave as long as I am human or do not drink from you, though the balm she has given me takes the pain away and is helping the healing. To be whipped as a slave is an interesting experience I never wish to go through again. I did not cry or scream out though, which seemed to anger him more, I only thought of you. Forced myself to think of us elsewhere, Paris or New York as you mentioned in your last letter. A life far from here.

I know you will not appear until it is right. I can dream a little about you coming. It is all I do dream about these days as I sleep, seeing you again and being where I belong in your arms. Let me dream my love, please. For without those dreams...I do not know if our plans and letters would be enough to keep me alive. Not after the last week and half with this family. As horrible as it sounds, as much as I love you and would never want to leave you or hurt you. Those thoughts were there, mixed with my insecurities from you not replying--no one giving me a true answer of why you weren’t. So please, do not take the idea that if I needed you here you would come away from me.

I stated before that I know you love me, and I do with every breath I take. But I cannot ever promise my insecurities will not appear. With time they have lessened and with more they may completely vanish. I, however, have never doubted you loved me. Only if I am worthy of you or if I am what you need. Your love is my one constant, the one I will never question. To know you are as in much pain as I am away from you, it helps oddly. To know this torture is not one sided. I will do my best to survive, my best to make you proud. My best is all I can promise you.

The vervain is not man made, but one of nature. As you know the plant itself can harm you, liquid is just worse. From what I have discovered is that it is nature’s way of keeping balance. The vampires were created or born, vervain appeared at the base of the white oak trees. It would seem it nature wanted it there as it does wolfsbane---both so beautiful in their purple color but deadly to the supernatural. I wonder if there is something for a witch as well. Though I cannot find a record of the vervain being elsewhere that is only because my resources here are small. Emily might have better luck.

My love and heart having anxiety? Hm, I would not have believed that our first summer together, nor at the start of our second. But now I do believe that possible. Maybe I can find a way to help yours? Sooth you as you do me and help as you have with the lavender. I will not lie, I have slept with you last letter under my pillow once I feared it would be your last. I know when I turn my anxieties will have to be something I work on. But I feel with you guiding me, watching me, loving me I will be able to do this. I will gain control over them as never before. Not to mention, by then I will be older, wiser before I change so it will help as well.

You may be a demon to the rest of the world but to me you are not, my heart. You rid me of mine, though some would argue you pull mine out as well. But you calm me in ways that no other has been ever able to do. You put me at peace, my heart.

Maybe once you are here we can jump together. It is truly thrilling and I miss it. The way it gets my heart pounding. Not just from the view or the jump, but how it feels to hit the water and race against the air in my lungs to get to the top once more. It is freeing and a moment to truly feel alive. For those few moments, nothing matters. It’s moments like those I want to share with you, adventures like that. Sharing it all with you and knowing you are at my side. I will truly cherish those for all eternity. I can picture your smile and laugh as we jump, as we surface. Your smile is one that always brings joy to me and your laugh? I miss your laugh so much. To know I caused it, it is even better.

I am not a perfect person, Katerina. I make mistakes, I do foolish things at times. Just as I mentioned my thoughts of ending things earlier. Foolish and no doubt caused you pain or worry. I never will intentionally hurt you, but I cannot promise that I won’t. Just know that when it happens or if I repeat something that does, it is not my intention to do so. My mind and heart are constantly at war, at times the ruinous thoughts win. That is one thing I do agree with the town on---I have those dark thoughts. I love you so much, I want you so much, and I want our life together. In my heart that is my top priority, you are my top priority. Understand that and believe that. Never doubt that or question it. Your faith in me, the trust you give me will help me fight my mind. It will push me to never harm you in any way. I will not dishonor that trust, nor will I ever abuse it.

I understand, Katerina. I truly do and I do not wish to ever have you in a situation where that happens. I cannot see myself ever doing that. My affection and attention will only ever belong to you. I almost told Stefan when he asked about my intentions with Madeline. Almost told him that I was already promised, that my heart and soul belonged to another. But I knew it would not help my own situation or what you have planned. But as far as someone trying to gain my attention? There is no one in this town that ever tries. Well, Abigail but that is only in moments when we are alone and never returned. Annabelle has helped with deterring her. It is quite amusing to watch. Though Annabelle also seems to think Madeline’s friendship is aimed toward something else as well I do not see it nor believe it. Again, I believe it is the fact she has to share me with someone else that is not you. I will let you be the true judge of it when you arrive.

Offering to slaughter my family in the name of love and protection toward me? That is a declaration of true devotion, love. One that I may have to watch one day. Does it make me as ill as everyone claims if I say that? If I admit it would give me pleasure to watch as you did so? To possibly feel things I shouldn’t in that moment and that it would deepen my love for you?

You do wear innocence well, love. A perfect act and manipulation. It’s amusing to watch honestly. To know your mind and heart as I do and see how others fall for it. Fools the lot of them, but a gain for you by far. You may be worse than the devil, but you are my devil. My fallen angel perhaps or is that too sappy? They say the devil's horns were from him breaking the halo he wore after he fell from grace. So perhaps it is fitting for you. I see the good in you Katerina, I see your heart along with all the darkness and sin. I see you.

Good. I would not do well to have you close but kept from my arms and lips. I may have to quarrel with my brothers and beat them away from you, but to spend time with you I will. I know we will have time together, even if it is just the moments when we are supposed to be asleep. It has been too long since I have slept at your side. You must know your first night here, I will be in your bed. Either to sleep or more, I will be beside you.

I will not stop you from killing my father. I would welcome it honestly. Do as you please, all I ask is that I can watch the light leave his eyes and see the moment he realizes that his greatest mistake was not having me but daring to touch and scar what is yours.

Twice you have referred to yourself as my protector. It makes my heart lighter and I know for a fact it is true. You make me smile more than you can imagine, make me feel safer and more loved than I ever have. One day, when I have turned, I hope I do the same for you.

As in most things with you, I enjoy you being possessive. As I wrote before jealousy and possessiveness go hand in hand. They only show how much you love me. To be claimed by you, to belong to you, it pleases me deeply. If there were a way for you to mark me as yours, I would ask you to. But the only way I can think of would raise too many questions and raise too many suspicions. So I will just have to go with your words and actions for now. Perhaps one day we will find a way.

I would never betray you, my heart. I would die before I ever did that. Anyone who would ever try to cause me to do so will learn first from me that it will not happen. By actions or words they will know I am promises, taken, and never to be persuaded. If they don’t listen? Well, my love I think you have promised me you would take care of them. So neither of us need worry about that.

I will wear something if you wish, but it has to be something you have chosen. You know what I like, what I would wear. Maybe that is a way to mark me, visually claim me as yours as well? Hm, something to think about my love.

Only a fool would try to compel me--if these are ever discovered then they would have to know who would come after them if they tried that. Let another try to compel me, it will be their last act upon this earth.

I will send more with Harper next time. Though if your reply takes longer than a week? Well, you may not get any more nor a reply until you are here. You might be able to do as you please with others Katerina---but it truly hurt. Warn me next time my heart. Talk to me and communicate. I have needs just as you do.

I love you, Lee

#long reads #long thread #the love letters #love letters series: 1864 #storieswrittcn #tw suicude #tw thoughts of suicide #tw physical harm #tw physical abuse #tw unstable mental healthy #tw: mental instability #tw: mental health #tw: alchohol mention

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