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journey-to-the-attic · 3 months

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3rd anni req 2: [DRAGON AU] mammon / first encounter

ao3 link

note: requested by @whensam! i have to admit, i was hoping this'd pop up. i know i can write what i want, but i always feel i need an excuse anyway. you didn't indicate a preference for pov and i also just ended up wanting to do both, so this is a little longer than expected as a result!

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

Baker's children don't make good hunters. We’re used to carrying sacks of flour, not sprinting across fields with pitchfork-wielding mobs in hot pursuit. We don't make good kindling, either, but that hasn't stopped about half the adults in the village - for shame, I'd say, if I had the breath to speak.

Here's the thing. Our village isn't exactly a popular spot by any definition of the term. We're too far from any big cities to make good business, we don't make much worth selling, and the people certainly aren't charming enough to warrant a detour.

More important, though, are the creatures we share land with. Through the grassland that border the crop fields, there are invisible lines drawn in the soil - ones that no one crosses.

These lines mark dragon territory, and everyone knows that a dragon would sooner eat you for breakfast than stop for a reasonable conversation. Reasonable conversation is not something I have the luxury of at the moment, which is why I’m already several hundred paces over the line.

Just fifty already takes you into the forest. I don’t hear footsteps in pursuit anymore - they’d have to be mad to follow me so far in, which is exactly what I'd been banking on. The issue now is that, rather than being pitchforked, or burnt at the stake, I’ll probably just get eaten instead.

I pick my way through rotting leaf litter and ridged roots before collapsing against an old oak, wondering if the moisture dripping from overhead is safe to drink - or at least to wash my mouth out with. Gnawing through rope seems like a clever idea until your teeth start bleeding.

I can’t stay here, I think. Dying now would be like letting them win. Then Dad will have smacked the alderman for no reason.

Just as I get back to my feet, something whooshes overhead. I freeze. Those wings were larger than any bird I’ve ever seen.

Surely it couldn’t see me through the leaves. I crouch low to the ground and try to hide in the undergrowth - the wingbeats disappear until all I can hear is distant birdsong.

At least they’re having a nice day. I duck my head and trudge through a hedge - and come face to face with a dragon.

“Argh!”

I leap backwards. Bad move. The sunlight falls across its pointed face just in time for me to watch its pupils expand into full moons, like a cat on the hunt.

It doesn’t pounce. It doesn’t charge, snap or growl. It creeps slowly, eyes fixed on me the whole way forward, as if making sure I know that I can’t escape.

Nowhere to run. I press my back against a wizened old pine and shut my eyes tight - throwing out an arm, as if that might shield me.

Nothing happens. Then something cold presses into my palm.

My eyes snap open. The dragon blinks down at me. Its eyes are such a deep shade of blue that it’s almost dizzying. Oh. Oh, okay.

Its - his? I wonder, noting the ridges on his nose - snout rests carefully in my palm. He seems to register me staring at him, and snorts. The hot air is just on the brink of scalding, but not quite enough to hurt.

Then, almost experimentally, he opens his mouth - a yawning chasm of teeth, poised as if to ever-so-gently bite off my head. Except he doesn’t do that. There’s no pain - no crunch of broken bone or split sinew - far from it. The dragon leans down, carefully hooks his teeth into the collar of my shirt, and takes off.

I’d have screamed if it wasn’t for all the air leaving my chest at once. The forest shrinks to a dark blanket beneath us faster than I can even register it happening, and I realise very quickly that I’d be dashed to bits if I so much as slipped.

Wyvern, says an unhelpful voice in the back of my head as we soar. The dragon’s white-and-gold wings blot out the sun, but they’re so brilliant that it’s hard to tell the difference. They’re good fliers.

Before long, the dragon lands - legs first, digging his talons deep into the soil as he skids to a stop. After a moment, he huffs, then (strangely gently) drops me in a heap on the stony ground.

There’s a rumble, a swoosh - then several thuds, a swoosh of wings. I watch a shadow fall over my field of vision, then slowly raise my head.

Oh, I think a little faintly.

All sorts of colours, all sorts of demeanours. One in particular steps forward - dark, with crimson eyes, and the sort of air about him that tells me he's the leader. Boss, I'll call him, if only to settle my own nerves. The dragon that brought me here (Goldie, I decide, still trying to settle my breathing) steps forward with a sort of chirrup in greeting.

It's a spectacle, if nothing else. Here are seven dragons, horns and wings and all. I've heard cautionary tales and horror stories, but they never really tell you how majestic they look in real life - scales shinier than any jewel I could imagine. Marvels of creatures, really. If only I had the wits to appreciate it.

Boss is growling now - there's a sort of heat rolling off him in waves. Some of the feeling coming back to my numb legs.

If only I knew what they were saying...

It isn’t often that the forest bears treasure - usually it’s all very boring things, like meat and berries and leaves. To be fair, Mammon's used to treasure of the shiny, golden kind - not this weird little critter crouched against a tree.

It smells faintly of smoke and burnt wheat. He stalks closer, but he's testing it more than anything - it doesn’t look like any prey he’s familiar with.

When he gets close, it sticks out a little starfish-shaped appendage and closes its eyes. He smells bitter fear now.

Is it greeting him? Telling him it isn’t a threat? That’s smart. He thought only dragons could be smart, but it’s not behaving - nor does it look - like any dragon he's ever met.

So he returns the greeting with his snout. He half expects to be stung, like the time Asmo brought that little spidery thing home, but all the critter does is look up at him fearfully.

Interesting. On a whim, he scoops the little round thing off, and decides to take it back home.

The weird not-prey goes still as soon as he takes off. Once home, he lets it disembark (drops it on the floor, though he tries to be gentle), then looks up to face his brothers as they land around him.

The others decide to keep their distance. Lucifer is the first to plod forward and investigate.

He sniffs carefully at the air, then makes a crackling noise somewhere at the base of his throat - which isn't usually a good sign.

“That’s a human, Mammon," He says, glaring at the little critter. It’s still sitting, frozen.

“It’s a what?”

“What’d you bring that for? Stupid.” Belphie settles back on his haunches, blowing out a puff of frost. “Can’t go around snatching humans. We’ll get hunted. Stupid.”

“Shut up,” He grunts. “And I didn’t snatch it. Found it walkin’ around in the forest.”

“That’s impossible,” Satan says nearly immediately. His tail swishes back and forth - slow and deliberate, an analytical glint in his clever eyes. “They don’t let their young anywhere near us.”

“Well, whaddya call this, then?”

The human - apparently - suddenly seems to regain use of its limbs. Springing to its feet (Levi shrinks back, crest flattering over his head), it stumbles for a moment, then abruptly ducks under one of Mammon's wings.

The rest of his brothers - who'd similarly drawn back - relax again with a simultaneous murmur of vague confusion. Mammon blinks. Then his tail starts flicking at the end - like it always does when he's pleased.

“...you are not keeping it,” Lucifer says, looking as if he'd very much like to fly off into the sunset.

“It might have a disease!” adds Asmo.

“I don’t care what any of ya say,” Mammon says stubbornly, snapping at Beel when it looks like he might creep in for a bite. “I’m not sendin’ it back to the forest. It’ll be dead in a day.”

"It might be dangerous," Levi hisses. "It's totally giving me the evil eyes."

"Stop scaring it, then,” Mammon says loftily. “Relax, ya big baby - You’ve got teeth bigger than its whole head.”

“You are not keeping it,” Lucifer says again, as if repeating himself will make him sound more in charge.

“Pfft. Can’t tell me what to do.” He snaps at Beel again. “Oi! No bitin’! Go raid your stash or something.”

Beel’s horns seem to droop a little. “...fine. C’mon, Belphie.”

“I was busy,” complains Satan with a huff as the twins flap off. "This is boring. I've seen deer carcasses more interesting than that weird little thing."

"Go look at your stinkin' carcasses, then," Mammon shoots back, fighting the impulse to spit something at him.

Satan does exactly that. Levi soon slinks off as well, apparently still intimidated - and Asmo seems to have disappeared as soon as he decided the human wasn't going to make a good accessory.

Lucifer, meanwhile, stands his ground. His tail is beginning to lash in agitation. If Mammon’s lucky, maybe he’ll even start spitting fire.

“I'm not gonna eat it,” He says stubbornly.

“I wasn't going to tell you to,” Lucifer replies, but he sounds very much like he’s considering it. “Belphie was right. If a hunter sees us with one of their young, they’ll take it as a threat.”

“Like we wouldn’t win,” He scoffs, sitting down with a thump. "Anyway,don't ya smell the fire on it?"

A single scarlet eye narrows a little. Evidently he hadn't - though Lucifer's always smelling smoke, by virtue of the literal furnace in his chest, so he can't really be blamed for not noticing.

The human is peeking out from beneath his wing with a little more bravado now. Lucifer eyes its round little face as if it might start spitting poison at him.

"...humans don't usually try to set fire to their young," Lucifer says after a moment. "You're sure she doesn't have anywhere to go?"

"Wouldn't've been in the forest if it— uh, she did." He glances down. "C'mon! Not like we don't have the space."

Lucifer is silent. Then he gives a long-suffering sigh - sending a plume of dark blue smoke into the sky - and bends down to the human’s eye level again.

“Will you behave?” Lucifer asks her severely, as if she can understand dragon-speak.

The human child blinks up at him. Then she reaches up and plants a hand on his snout.

Mammon holds his breath. After a moment, Lucifer’s wings flutter, then settle.

“I’m not having any part in this,” He announces, stepping back. “This is to be your responsibility only. Don't make any trouble for your brothers. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He says dismissively, occupied with keeping his triumph from showing in his tail. Got it.”

Lucifer glances down at the human one final time. “...take care of her.”

And off he flaps - to attend to his usual nighttime duties. He says he's keeping watch for danger, but mostly they seem to involve gazing darkly into the sunset.

With his brothers dispersed, Mammon takes a moment to actually consider his situation. He doesn’t actually know what taking care of a human child involves. He doesn’t know much about humans in general - it’s not like he usually pays them any attention. Maybe some of his brothers could give him some advice… if any of them were interested in the kid’s well-being, at least.

They’ll come around, He decides after a moment, unfurling his wings and attempting to nudge the human in the general direction of their living caves. First, I gotta figure out what these things eat…

#3rd anni event #obey me #writing #dragon au #i mentioned this in the ao3 notes but it's crazy to me that it's been two years since dragon au started #like woa. time passes #jtta aus #obey me mammon #jtta ik #obey me brothers #(won't tag the others individually since they're not as prominent)#whensam

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allfandoms-writings · 10 months

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Task Force 141 and their cryptids

alright, so I was in the mood for some spooky shit given that Halloween is only a couple months away and ever since I saw the Azreal skin on Simon I’ve been needing a cryptid version so here ya go. i’m throwing in graves for all the girlies and he’s starting to grow on me. don’t come at me for some of these ideas and/or misrepresentations of any legends this is just my out-of-the-box spin on it (ALSO, I USE THE TERM CRYPTID VERY LOOSELY IT FELT WEIRD CALLING THEM MONSTERS)

Ghost — is a Wraith/Vampire hybrid. He’s able to immaterialize into the shadows and can pick up on the faintest of scents. He has the ability to take small objects with him when he blends in with the shadows (this is usually a knife). The Wraith part of him lets him pick up on auras/presences of other cryptids. The vampire aspect of him only really comes in with the form of teeth and the ability to see in the dark. Wraiths need to consume some form of human being (while it’s usually energy his vampire side can cover it with blood)

Soap — Shapeshifter. Instead of the usual werewolf I see with him, I can picture him as a massive brown bear. You can usually tell what bear is Soap because his form is like 2-3 times the average size of a brown bear. He comes with enhanced strength, endurance and this man eats like nobodies business after he shifts back into his human form. He’s a walking heater (Bones appreciates this because there are days she feels extremely cold)

Gaz — I like to think Gaz would be an offshoot of the Fae (yes, think Maleficent because Gaz would look fucking amazing). While his family tree no longer carries magic, he still retains the wings, horns, and any other supernatural abilities. He has excellent hearing, and while he’s not a huge fan of pure iron (makes him break out in horrible sores) he can shift any part of him into his respective bird of prey (for reference I chose a Golden Eagle)

Price — Dragon. Price is able to cover most of his body in impenetrable scales if the issue arises (though its very itchy when he goes to scratch them off.) He smokes to help the desire to breathe fire and considers his team to be his horde, and refuses to give them up for anything (he had a very hard time giving Bones back to the U.S. military the first time they met because they clicked really well)

Alejandro — Nahual. Shapeshifting is one of the most common forms of monster in this universe, and most retain the animal of their family lineage. Alejandro retains the jaguar, and is able to change his appearance from a normal jaguar to a black jaguar when it pleases him. The only downside to this is that he can retain spots on his skin if he stays a jaguar for extreme extended periods of time

Rudolfo — Also a Nahual. Rudy can take the form of an abnormally large red wolf. He can use aspects of this form without completely shifting (shifts his ears so he has better hearing, nails into claws, teeth into fangs if he’s in a really tight pinch).

Bones — Skinwalker hybrid. This version of Skinwalker is a little different from the legends we have today. Not everyone in the family tree ends up shifting into any form of animal native to their area. They all have the increased abilities (strength, endurance, hearing, sight, etc) but in order to shift they need to experience negative emotions/traumas consistently (most refuse to go into any form of public service for this reason). Once the shift has been made, their eye color shifts to an orange-red that only contacts can hide and they have permanent fangs. Due to the other side of her (which is unknown to her family since her dad never disclosed he was a monster as well) she is able to lure people in with a whistle and all her animals are completely black in color

Graves — Vampire. Not in the traditional sense, either. Sure, he still has to drink blood and watch out for stakes and mind how long he stays in churches/on holy ground, but that’s pretty much it. His species has evolved over time to remove the sun issue one the human population started growing and their fangs can retract a little bit when in the presence of humans, but he’s one of the easier species to get by.

#imagine #call of duty modern warefare ii #call of duty imagine #simon riley #john price #johnny mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #phillip graves #bones enters task force 141 #call of duty oc

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ryozeki · 3 months

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(Something recited from my "Why KaguKeine" document)

...Next is the some line for Kaguya Bullshit Adventure ig? and we reach the end,

why that name?, that story is just me throwing random bullshit at Kag for, uhm well, “character development”.

You have to understand, Kag is just too fucking OP, I have to install a bunch of corny tropes and debuffs on the princess to actually have some kind of stake.

Another important question: Is Keine in that story?

No of course, this is Kag oriented story, and Keine’s first life haven't even died yet

Ok let's get this done

Here the corny ass…metaphor…thingy:

The moon princess, the most beautiful oh so perfect princess. Like a bird trapped in a high cage since birth, dreams of going to that blue orb on the window and touch something called an “inaba”

The bird see how others fly, but when it tries, it hits its head on the ground of the cage, the doctor said that it’s sick and needs special care.

The bird have wings but only used them for decorations, it has a voice but only chirp the thing they want to hear, all it need to do is to stay like that, and it’ll be fine, right?

…

The cage is thrown around, rolled across the table, hit the wall, slammed on the desk

…

Aren’t I sick?

“Kaguya you don’t deserve to be a Lunarian”

What are they saying

“Be grateful that you could have this comfortable life”

This cage?

“Well you should since…. it’s not going to last for long”

…

Am I going to die?

…

The doctor came again, this time the bird use its voice to ask the doctor

“Can I be cured?”

…

She repeated that it’s sick and needs special care

…

But when nobody is near, the doctor whispers

“You’re not the one that’s sick. It’s me and so does my family”

The doctor made a deal with the bird, only it can find the cure

Then the bird will get what it dream off

“But I can’t fly”

Said the bird, “Sooner or later you’ll die, this is your only chance, the choice is yours”

…

“Why me?”

“They think you can’t fly, prove them wrong…

don’t eat the food”

…

What

Ah I see how it is, the cage was never locked, the food was never questioned

I have never…ah nevermind

“When can I start?”

“Now”

The bird tries spreading its wings once again

…..

Ah shit I’m falling, who said this was a good idea, jumping from skyscraper

Am I going to die like this?

….

Naahh, not until I bring them down with me

Let’s see how many bones I’ll break this time around

#touhou fanfiction #kaguya bullshit adventure #pls help me find a better name #touhou project fanart #touhou project #touhou #touhou fanart #kaguya houraisan #東方project

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weekend-conspiracy-theorist · 2 years

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A continuation.

When Stephanie Brown was fourteen, dressed in green tights and red body armor, she was on a short solo patrol when she caught sight of movement in her periphery. She caught sight of it again a block later and knew, in her bones, that she was being followed. Whoever it was was doing a good job of matching pace with her, anticipating her movements while keeping a careful distance.

So she ducked down one alleyway and then doubled back, cutting sharply towards the path her mysterious stalker was taking. Stephanie placed herself in their path, just ahead of where she expected them to come bursting out of their own alley, and she bent down to pretend to adjust the laces on her combat boots.

The fall of her cape obscured the motion as she silently grasped the brick on the ground next to her left foot, and quick, quiet footsteps suddenly rounded the corner. Stephanie came up swinging.

The black-haired kid who'd been following her went down in a heap. He'd looked up at her with big blue eyes, blood leaking out from between his fingers, and wheezed out, "I thibk my bose is broken."

It was love at first sight, more or less.

When Tim Drake was fourteen, he was hot on the trail of the freshly-minted Girl Wonder, and she broke his nose. With a brick. (Six years later, she still refused to apologize.)

He'd explained, begrudgingly, that he was just trying to take pictures of her being a hero, and she'd gotten them milkshakes from McDonald's and helped him shove the napkins up his nostrils.

"I can definitely get you some good shots," she told him. Her blonde hair had way too much hairspray in it to waterfall down over her shoulder when she leaned forward, smiling so big that he knew her eyes must be sparkling behind the lenses of her domino mask, but he liked the way it spiked around her headband. She looked cool. She was cool.

Tim, on the other hand, was having to eat his milkshake with a spoon to not put too much pressure on his tender sinuses. He was also, occasionally, holding the cup up against his aching face.

"I dob't thingk Bahman's gonna 'prove of you posin' for pictures," he had pointed out.

Robin's grin had only gotten bigger. "Who said we were gonna tell Batman?"

It was love at first sight, more or less.

"This is going to calm down eventually, right?" Tim asked, dryly. His phone was sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he juggled leftover takeout containers and kicked his fridge door closed with the heel of his left foot. "I've had three different vigilantes crash my stakeouts over the last two weeks. Robin gave me a shovel talk at katana point, even though, A) you broke up with me, and B) our entire romance practically happened before he was born. Then Nightwing wanted to know if that story about you egging Boyfriend's car was true--"

"It is."

"Not the way you tell it."

"I saw the tears with my own two eyes, Boyfriend. You ain't foolin' me."

Tim dumped the remains of his beef fried rice into a bowl and scooped some sesame chicken on top of it. "I'm not having this argument again."

Stephanie laughed, the big, delighted one that meant she was throwing her head back and scrunching up her nose, and at least three-quarters of Tim's annoyance faded away, just like that. Still, for the principle of the thing, he added, "I can't believe you blew up our spot on a whim. We'd obfuscated the details of our friendship for six years. World record holders of lying to Batman."

"Naw, I bet Nightwing's still got a couple secrets packed away with his pixie boots." A pause, then she admitted, "Maybe nothing this big, but Wing's definitely got some secrets. Besides--" the rasp of fabric on fabric as she rolled over in her bed-- "it's your fault for not telling me you hired a fake authority figure in your life, again. I couldn't help it. There was no hiding my reaction."

Tim rolled his eyes, sticking his spoon into his mouth as he transferred the bowl of Chinese food to the microwave. "I still don' ge' wha's so funny," he said around it. He pulled out the spoon, brandishing it as he switched ears with the phone. "It makes perfect sense. I need to have five years working as a Private Investigator on the record before I can get a license. I also need to be twenty-five. I am also not willing to actually work for another PI and end up spending the first couple years fetching coffee and reading police reports instead of solving cases."

"So obviously, you hired a fake boss through a shell company, gave him a fake PI license, and then had him hire you," Stephanie said, still sounding like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Again, I don't understand why you're laughing. Alvin Draper may not exist, but he has a totally real PI license; the State of New Jersey just didn't know they were giving it to him." Tim shut the microwave, punching in 3:00 and hitting start. "You know I don't need any more training. You were my tutor for The Art of Private Detective Work 101 through 401, Batman Edition."

"All I really had to do was smuggle you the course materials," Stephanie pointed out. She sounded fond. "You taught yourself."

"Nah," Tim said softly. "We taught each other. Everything always makes more sense when I'm working with you."

Stephanie huffed a quiet laugh. "Don't get sappy on me now, Boyfriend," she cautioned. But she sounded a little sappy herself. She cleared her throat, audibly rolling over once more, and asked, "So who was number three?"

"Number three what?" Tim asked, distracted, as he poked at his leftovers to make sure they were warm the whole way through.

"The third vigilante who crashed one of your stakeouts. You said Robin wanted to threaten you-- right of passage, by the way-- and Nightwing wanted to get the dirt, but who was number three?"

"Oh." Tim grimaced. "Batman."

Stephanie sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Shovel talk part two?" she guessed.

"Uh, no, actually. He never actually said a word; just posted up by a gargoyle on the apartment building next to the one I was set up on, and brooded menacingly in my direction for like four hours."

"Drama queen."

"I got sick of it, eventually, so I ordered a pizza up to the roof of that apartment and told them I'd pay cash on delivery."

Stephanie sounded giddy. "You're kidding."

"What? I knew he could afford it."

She burst out laughing again, that bright Robin laugh that Tim had developed a Pavlovian response to sometime around the third time he'd heard it, and he smiled to himself as he dug into his dinner, letting her laugh herself out.

"I'd feel bad for the delivery guy because he looked like he was about to shit himself when he realized he was looking at the Batman, but I'm also pretty sure he's got the greatest pizza delivery story of all time now. And Batman didn't grapple over to my roof to lecture me or anything, so he must have taken it in good humor." Tim paused, wincing, and added, "Relatively."

He'd been typing up the case report at the office a few days later when a pizza guy showed up with two mushroom-and-black-olive pizzas, to be paid cash on delivery. Tim didn't even like mushrooms; he'd just chosen them because he knew from Stephanie that Batman did.

He didn't have to say anything else for Stephanie to guess the implications. After all, she'd been Batman's Robin for over four years. "B-man always gets the last word," she said dryly. "Even when you think you've gotten away with it, suddenly a week later he'll launch a new offensive."

"That's consistent across identities," Tim muttered. Wanye Enterprises was good at coming out of things with the upper hand; he remembered his dad complaining about it more than once as he worked late into the night in his study, quietly existing alongside Tim as he did homework while sprawled across the couch on the other side of the room. Tim had even experienced it a couple times himself, too, although he'd never really had much involvement in Drake Industries' day-to-day operations.

He had kept just enough of his inherited shares to be able to throw his weight around when he needed to, making sure that DI was earning itself a reputation as a generous and ethical place to work. But Tim certainly didn't work for DI; his time-- and his passion-- were entirely invested in Red Bird Investigations.

"As Vicki Vale has learned time and time again," Steph agreed.

They fell into companionable silence for a minute, Tim putting his phone on speaker and dropping it onto the kitchen island next to where he was sitting, cross-legged, to dedicatedly work his way through his dinner. Stephanie had been intending to catch a quick nap before she jotted out on patrol until he'd called, but he knew she'd have hung up on him by now if she really needed the sleep, so he didn't worry too much about it.

"You know we wouldn't have been able to hide it much longer anyway, right?" she asked, finally, and Tim made a noncommittal grunt. She huffed, and he knew the noise went along with a roll of her eyes. "It only took you like six months of working as a PI before you sought out the Red Hood. Did you really think you were going to stay under the rest of the Bats' radar for long?"

"Over eight months, actually, and yes," Tim said stubbornly. "Practically anything else I could have taken to you or Black Bat. But I was working in the Alley, and everybody there looks to Hood for guidance in one way or another. I kept getting stonewalled. Conversely, I have no reason to seek out Batman, Robin, Nightwing, Batwoman, the Signal, Bluebird, or anybody else I'm currently forgetting."

Actually, Tim was pretty sure he'd end up working with the Signal eventually. As a perfectly legal PI-in-training (so long as nobody looked too deeply into Alvin Draper), Tim didn't limit himself to either daytime or nighttime investigations, and Signal was intelligent, competent, and fun to hang around. But there was no reason to think Signal would assume there was anything unusual or Bat-related in Tim's past; they'd already run into each other a few times during the Robin Gang era. Tim Drake was just another piece of the Gotham scenery for him.

"Yeah, and that works great, until Commissioner Gordon or one of the GCPD detectives you've been working with decides to ask Batman about you," Stephanie pointed out. "You're already starting to make a name for yourself, and Batman doesn't just ignore the presence of new players on the board. There are other private investigators around Gotham, and he has files on all of them. That's pretty much what I stumbled onto Hood and Oracle throwing together, anyway."

"So, they'd have figured out that Alvin's a sham," Tim sighed. "But--"

"I know I'm usually the first person to extoll Batman's flaws--well, okay, the second. Jason is the first. But they don't call him the World's Greatest Detective for nothing, Boyfriend, and even the surface level of your existence is pretty fucking weird. Sure, there's nothing about 'Drake heir turned private detective' that screams 'I knew Robin when she had pigtails,' but he was definitely going to start digging, and it was going to be obvious eventually that we knew each other. And maybe," Steph said, pitching her voice over his next protest, "if you were about to get sucked into the collective Batfamily's orbit, I didn't want to have to pretend not to know my best fucking friend as well as I do."

Oh. Well, Tim wouldn't have enjoyed that either.

He thought about what might've happened if Hood had tapped Batgirl in on the case Tim had brought to him, about working with Stephanie as if she was a total stranger and not someone he understood on a level deeper than he understood his own self. He probably would have given up within fifteen minutes, consequences be damned.

He took the out she'd offered. "'Best friends' is reductive," he said, a familiar mantra.

"'Platonic soulmates' would be reductive, Boyfriend," Stephanie countered automatically, a smile re-entering her tone. "But it's a little wordy to start calling you things like my phantom limb or the peanut butter to my jelly."

"Your brother from another mother," Tim mused.

"Hey, now, I know she wasn't in a great spot when your parents died, but I bet that Crystal would be happy to adopt you now if you asked."

Tim barked a laugh, caught off guard by the assertion, and Stephanie giggled, her voice growing faint amongst the rustle of her sheets. "Ugh, you wasted my prime napping window with your grumpiness. I've gotta go pull on the atomic wedgy machine so I can punch crime in the face."

Tim snorted. "I thought it wasn't that bad since the latest round of suit upgrades."

"It wasn't," Stephanie groaned. "But Cass has introduced a lot of lunges to our workout routine, and now the ass is getting snug."

"First world vigilante problems," Tim commented dryly.

"I'd wear a thong or something, but Bruce would find out somehow and I think it'd actually kill him." Tim choked on the last bite of his beef fried rice, but Stephanie just cackled. "I'd get blown up and the suit would get torn in a weirdly horny way, and then Batman would have a heart attack upon seeing my bare, burned ass waddling around the Batcave."

"Sticking out from under a piece of rubble," Tim suggested, laughter bubbling beneath the surface of his voice.

Stephanie wheezed. "Oh, god."

"Robin would have to go to therapy."

"Nightwing would just slap a hand over his domino so he couldn't see."

"Now that would be a picture I'd break out the film for."

"Shut up! I'm laughing too hard to get my body armor on."

"You started it." Tim yawned so wide his jaw cracked, and he reached up to rub at the hinge, grimacing. "That's the one downside of selling the manor," he added with a sigh. "No space for a darkroom in this apartment."

Stephanie snorted. "Isn't every room in that apartment a dark room?"

"You're just jealous of my blackout curtains."

"I'm really not," Stephanie assured him dryly. Her voice grew closer again, and the background static of speakerphone cut off as she picked her phone back up. "I gotta go, Boyfriend. Oracle wants to run over some stuff with me and the best Bat before we hit the pavement tonight."

Tim couldn't help the smile that slipped across his face as he hopped down from the counter. "Give Cassie my love. And ask Oracle to be a little less conspicuous next time she goes poking around Red Bird's systems--I know she was letting me see her in order to make a point, and I already knew that no matter how good I am, Oracle's better, but I do still have client confidentiality to maintain my plausible deniability about."

Stephanie let out a quiet huff of laughter. "I'll pass it along," she promised.

"Be safe."

"No promises."

"Break a leg."

"Two or three, even!"

Tim laughed, and Stephanie made an obnoxious kissing noise into the phone before she hung up on him. The screen lit back up, showing the nearly fifty minute call duration and the selfie she'd taken of the two of them at the lighting of the big Menorah on the Gotham University Quad the previous Hanukkah. The Menorah was in the background, two candles brightly lit, and the two of them looked windswept and red-cheeked. Stephanie had had to grapple them across the rooftops in order to make it in time to sing the first blessing, and they'd squeezed in together so tightly for the picture that Tim had been able to lick her cheek without moving. Stephanie's face was scrunched up in horrified anger, and Tim's was bright with laughter, his tongue still sticking out.

It was a good picture. It was a good memory, even if Stephanie had shoved him into a snowbank in retaliation.

Stephanie Brown had been the best Robin. Most people would argue--even Tim would have, years and years ago--but they were wrong. Batman needed Robin, and he was so fucking lucky he'd stumbled across Spoiler at just the right moment to keep himself from going down a dark path.

If nothing else, Tim mused, it was nice that he was now free to say that directly to Bruce Wayne's face some time.

#stephanie brown #tim drake #I wrote this #the tim&steph role swap au #wherein steph is way more down to encourage an untrained kid's pseudo-vigilanteism than tim was #oops I said I was done here and then wrote more anyway

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venusiangguk · 3 years

Text

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !!

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants.

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study

me:

yeah but im not gonna

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I- am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing.

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about.

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile.

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself.

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side.

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm.

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.”

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts.

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar.

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night.

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?”

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.”

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found.

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists.

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going.

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later.

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer.

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.”

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace.

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…”

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad.

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?”

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all.

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs.

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls.

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over.

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene.

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand.

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?”

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-”

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.”

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd.

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it.

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether.

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you.

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed.

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up.

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone.

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken.

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair.

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock.

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.”

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room.

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum.

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.”

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow.

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly.

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both.

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is. But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :*

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

Okay so I have a personal head cannon that demon hunters are a thing in the Obey Me World. So I wondering if you could do the brother and undatables finding out that a bunch on demon hunters kidnapped MC while they were in human world because they found out of MCs packs. Your writing is so good, honestly this is one of my favorite Obry Me accounts.

Thank you! It gives me pride for being one your favourites!

I love expanding the world of obey me and idea of hunters is one that seems realistic in a world of demons and angels and just in general, really interesting. Before I joined writing on Tumblr I was actually a Wattpad author and one my books was about a monster hunter who got in a love square with Frankenstein's monster, Dr Jekyll and Mr hyde

Never finished it but it was fun concept so any type of supernatural hunter already just wins in my department

Do I have a thing for making the demons violent and showing off a more aggressive and bloody side to them? Yes, I really do

Warning: kidnapping, gore-ish, violence, religious themes, angst, guns, mentions of torture, long

Your breathing grew heavier as the crushing feeling on your chest continued to grow, your heart slamming against your ribcage. Begging to be released from its suffocating prison. If it weren't for the lump in your throat you were sure your heart would of leapt out of it.

your feet pounded against the street beneath you; you were running faster than you’ve ever ran before. How did it get to this situation? well, you didn't have time to reminisce but to make a long story short - a group of demon hunters revealed themselves to you and are now chasing you down as you refused to cooperate. they wanted to use you for your pact and you didn’t want to be involved, especially seeing as they were literal demon hunters! they were going to kill your friends!

but sadly, fate was not on your side. your ankle twisted to the side, pain shooting up from your ankle all the way to your knee. rope surrounded you, you thrashed against the net as your body slammed to the floor. The last thing you saw was the hunter tower above you, the butt of their gun coming down on your head.

when you finally woke up you already had a gun back in your face, you tried to escape but you were forced backwards. chains rattling behind you. you looked behind you to see you were chained to a cross, both your wrists and ankles were bound.

Your situation only grew worse when the hunter Infront of you snarled down at you. Demanding you used your pacts, spitting on your face. You thrusted forward, matching their snarl as you bared your teeth at them. Demon mannerisms have rubbed off on you but it wasn't doing you any good. The gun clicked, unlocking off safety mode.

Your heart sunk immediately.

"Use your pact or else."

You could only hear the blood rushing through your ears. Trembling as their finger slowly pressed on the trigger. You knew they were going to kill the brother's if you did but you were terrified that were going kill you. You shook your head, letting it hang low as fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

You kept refusing to use your pact and summon the seven demons. Every time you refused they'd hurt you; kicking you, slamming the guns butt down on your head, throwing your head back on the cross. You could barely hear what they said, they just kept screaming at you. Calling you filth and a traitor to mankind.

Despite all the pain you were grateful they weren't killing you. You just had to keep pushing your luck. You couldn't summon them no matter how scared you were. You refused. You couldn't do it.

But fortunately, Magic doesn't always act the way you want it to. Your soul - your entire being BEGGED to be saved. You wanted to save yourself, you desperately tried to spark at the chains and remember any spells but your mind was at a blur. nothing was processing.

You cried out when you saw the large magic circle appear on the floor. You tried desperately to close the summoning circle, cursing to yourself. You demanded your magic to listen to you but it wouldn't work. The brothers symbols appearing in each part and soon enough, they appeared in full demon form.

"FIRE-!"

Lucifer:

his wings blocked at the rapid bullets going their way

His whip quick to come out and wrap around a hunters wrists, he twisted his hand around it and pulled the poor hunter towards him

"This isn't very welcoming, now is it? How bold."

the hunter went flying, the brothers dodging in time

Mammon:

He smirked, a bullet between his teeth and more between his fingers

Steam was drifting off them but he just crushed the metal bullets with no other thought

"How nice of ya to give me a gift~! You really know how to make a demon happy."

He spat out the last bullet and it went flying, hitting a hunters eye

Levithan:

The ground shook beneath you, many hunters missing their shot at his brothers

A crab like beast bursted out of the ground, sewer sludge splattering on the floor

It swiped and grabbed at the hunters, screams filling the space, bodies snipped in half in seconds

"You're all worse than Normies! You took the wrong human from the wrong demons!"

he back hand slapped a hunter that approached him, growling

Satan:

He leapt off the crab, grabbing the nearest hunter to him by the head

Their neck snapped to an odd angle and they immediately dropped

"This isn't how I expected to spend my evening but you took my reading partner....you won't receive my mercy."

He shoved his clawed hands through their chests and spines, ripping out the first organ or bone he could grab

He didn't lie, he didn't show an ounce of mercy

Asmodeus:

His wings flapped behind him, he dragged his claws along the backs of the hunters he flew past

Giggling as they screamed in pain

"Aww I'm just flirting, was it really that bad?"

He pouted before swiping at their faces

Shoving another hunter towards his more violent brother

Whilst he had no issue letting himself get wild, he saw how scared you looked

He didn't want to get too dirty or else how could he comfort you?

Beezlebub:

Beel could be ruthless if TRUELY provoked

And hearing your whimpers when he arrived stirred furious anger within him

When he finally saw your beaten state it made him snap

Hungry for blood

Hunters head being crushing with ikr hand

"You don't even look appealing to eat, you're worst than Solomon's cooking."

He took a chunk out of one hunter when they aimed at one of his brother's

Refusing to let his family get hurt

Belphegor:

We all know he's cold blooded

So it was no surprise blood was gushing everywhere

His dream dust filling his area and nightmares surrounded the hunters

"They're mine....and yet you stole them and hurt them, you're disgusting."

hunters would disappear into the mist and not come back out alive

Bodies littering the floor as he swooped through

As soon as things got gory your eyes were sealed shut, trying to shut out the sound of flesh tearing and screams of agony. Whimpering as you thought about the brothers smiling faces, how gentle and soft they usually were. Chanting in your head that they were here to save you, you were safe, they're still them.

You screamed as your body was lifted off the platform you were on, the cross rising. You were now fully crucified; feet slipping as you struggled against the cross. The chains were barely supporting your weight so you just dangled, fear rising in you.

Mammon charged towards you, his brothers continuing to fight against the hunters. He ripped the chains out of the cross, you fell right into his arms, your heart thumping against your chest.

"look at what they did to you....I shouldn't of protected ya, I hope you'll learn to forgive me - they busted you up real bad."

He caressed your cheek; eyes glaring at your busted lip and the many bruises forming on your face. You winced when his hand touched the side of your head, he recoiled feeling something warm on his palm. It was blood. YOUR blood.

He almost broke down right there and then, looking at how hurt you were - he couldn't handle it.

"thanks...that makes me feel so much better." You let out a pained laugh, hoping to make him feel better.

He only frowned more, softly rubbing his thumb on your cheek. It was obvious he was struggling to keep himself calm. You held his hand, showing off your best smile.

"i don't blame any of you, the hunters did this, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

Your sweet moment was ruined when the 6 brothers backed all bumped into the two of you. Forming a protective ring as the hunters surrounded them; it seemed like there was no end.

You raised your shaky hands, magic swirling around your wrists and to your fingertips. You barely had enough strength to put on a little light show but you weren't going to just let the demons defend you without even trying to help.

It your lucky day as suddenly, the hunters hideout doors bursted open. You could barely make out the outside but there was blood coating every wall, steam coming off dead bodies. Soon enough four figures emerged and your heart almost leapt out of your throat.

Lucifer growled as he strangled a hunter, turning his attention to the new comers.

"I'm surprised you came so late, espically with the company with you, my lord."

Diavolo laughed, his hands coming together as his magic flared brightly. Barbatos had his arms behind his back, smiling to all of you.

"Forgive our tardy timing, these hunters are determined."

"don't forget us, though I may of caused us to take our time, it's been so long since I've fought this many people."

Solomon adjusted his sleeves, his many pacts glowing against his skin. Simeon, unlike the others, looked completely untouched by the chaos. Smiling as he kept his hands together.

"I beg for your forgiveness (Y/N), It appears we've angered Lucifer more than the hunters have."

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Time slowed down within the room, only the hunters going still

Their movements frustratingly slow

"I think it's best to clean up this situation whilst you take (Y/N) back, they've seen enough."

He looked at Lucifer, both men nodding

The prince moved freely through the frozen room, eyeing the amount of hunters

Barbatos:

He bowed to the brothers, offering you a comforting smile

"I must agree with my lord, things will get rather unpleasant."

He slowly slipped off his gloves

He approached you, gently handing you his gloves and patted your shaky hands

A silent request to keep them safe for him

Solomon:

The wizard blew the steam off his wand

Smirking as he pointed it towards the magic still present around your wrists

"Isn't it good I came along? You're going to fall sleep if you keep using your powers, little apprentice, let me open a portal for you."

Just as he finished talking he summoned a portal to the devildom

He gave you a small salute

Simeon:

He hastily rushed towards you all

Checking on each brother for any serious harm, thankful they were okay

He turned his attention to you, doing the same

"all is going to be okay, I promise, I'll bring over some desserts when we get back - tell Luke I won't be long, I know he's anxious about your safety."

He walked you to the portal, caressing your hands

You got a gentle push towards the portal

Once you were all through the portal, you completely shattered. Crumbling to the floor as you broke down sobbing. The brothers tried to approach you again but your nostrils flared, face scrunching up in disgust. They reeked of blood and guts.

Beels mouth was covered in blood, flesh between his fangs. Levithans hands trembling from adrenaline red and stained with blood. Belphegor was showered in the red liquid, a feral look still in his eye. Mammon was the most clean out of all of them but he had blood dripping down him. Asmodeus had flesh on his nails and blood on his cheek. Satan looked just as drenched as belphegor, his shoulders shaking with anger. And finally, Lucifer was the second cleanist but he still was no better than the others.

"i need time to- time to calm down....just.... please just wash."

They all accepted your wishes, hesitant but they understood your predicament.

You laid on the floor, chains still on your wrists and ankles. They felt so tight on your limbs, you whimpered as they scratched at your skin. It took one small burst of magic to make them drop; you were finally free.

You continued to just lay on the floor, shakily grabbing a nearby pillow. Inhaling the sweet comforting scent, letting it fill your scenes. Everytime you even smelled a faint swift of the gore-ish scene from before you just took in another deep inhale.

You laid there for what felt like hours. Silently crying as you hugged the pillow.

You grounding yourself. Reminding yourself you were safe and back in your room. The brothers were safe and they weren't mindless beasts.

You rolled on your side, something poking your hip. It was your phone. You pulled it out from your pocket and began to type, messaging Luke that Simeon was okay aswell as you, apologizing for not seeing him in person. You sent him a quick selfie of you smuggled into your pillow and tried to look somewhat happy. Hoping it'll comfort him.

It wasn't a moment later until you heard a knock at your door. You questioned who it was.

"we're all clean now, meet us in the living room if you want....I made your favourite drink~" Asmo's voice was soft, gentle on your ringing ears.

A small smile appeared on your face. Shuffling out of your room still hugging your pillow, trailing after the lustful demon. Soon enough, you were both entering the living room.

The room was dim, the fireplace being it's only lighting and warming the room up nicely. There must of been something with the wood as it smelled so comforting. The brothers all sat along the sofa, Some on the floor. Everyone had their own drink, blankets and pillows surrounding them.

You curled up in the middle of the sofa, letting yourself be engulfed in multiple hugs. Everyone touching you in some way and you all just sat there. In peaceful silence as you just hugged.

You really needed this....

"thank you for saving me."

"We'll always save you"

"you can always count on us-!"

"I won't let this happen to you again, I promise to protect you better."

"no one is allowed to touch you like that, I won't let them."

"You don't need to thank us, darling."

"I will always make sure you're safe, no Matter what."

"I won't fail you again."

you all hugged each other even tighter, embracing each others comfort and warmth. Tears falling and soothing words shared, each brother did their best to be strong. But even they couldn't stop themselves from shedding tears when the adrenaline died.

They almost lost you. You were kidnapped and hurt because of your connection to them. They were never going to let you get harmed again, no matter the cost.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me imagine #obey me headcanon #obey me x reader #angst

783 notes · View notes

izusun · 3 years

Note

Headcanon: Izuku is into DIY.

Hot Take: Izuku would create a long furby. He has a collection of various eldritch creepy long furbies. Katsuki absolutely refuses to go into his room because of them. He would've exploded them by now but that would make Izuku cry.

Other CursedTM Things that Izuku does that makes Katsuki die inside and that Katsuki tries to hide from the rest of Class 1-A:

He's a part of the Vulture Culture community and collects roadkill and dead animals to turn into bones.

He has a collection of shitty All Might hawaiian shirts.

He has a collection of stuffed animals. They all have names ripped from Lovecraft such as "Yawgsathoth" and "Mother of Pus"

He writes fanfiction of the heroes.

He has a giant worm on a string plush, and his room is also decorated with Worms on Strings (you have no idea how much Katsuki had to bribe him not to add worms on strings to his uniform blazer)

He does have a plague doctor mask and will regularly just go out in a cloak and his mask

He cosplays exclusively female heroes, and crossdresses the worst dresses

He basically does art makeup, on his face and the face of Katsuki

"Hey what are you reading?" "Oh, this book on how to cook frogs."

He will eat anything. Including stuff that is on the ground. He has an iron stomach.

The actual reason Izuku hangs up All Might everywhere (it used to be a mix of all heroes) is because once in middle school Katsuki accused him of being straight, so he put him up everywhere and continued the habit, Katsuki hates his room now

- Goblin Anon (otherwise known as Goblin anon projects everything she does or wants to do onto her fav)

HI GOBLIN!!! GENUINELY SCREAMED AT THIS AU BECAUSE WTF

even i would not want to enter the beloved’s (izuku’s) room because of his shit.

i’ve searched up long furbys and i am, simply put, traumatized. i had a collection of furbys when i was a kid but we had to give them away because there’s too much of them. but long furbys? i am very much scared.

there’d be a picture of a long furby under the cut, and i’m genuinely terrified of the fucker.

also, can i just say that izuku writing fanfictions is the least cursed thing that he does? because like, reading the rest is like looking at that picture where you can’t decipher a single thing because, again, wtf izuku.

but they’re also funnier? creepier? because i can genuinely see izuku doing those dhekdoowks

✄┈┈┈

this shit would probably be snaking around the frames of izuku’s door. or he probably has one at the corner of his wall, the one that meets with the ceiling, and when a visitor looks up, they’re greeted by the sight of this centipede looking furby that has additional four eyes that izuku lovingly and carefully sewn on. it’s so nightmarish :’)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the vulture culture part started when they were young. his interest started when he saw a documentary on how to pin butterflies and he was like, “you know what? thats actually something i want to do!” but! BUT!! he cannot catch a butterfly, thus he settled for mounting dragonflies which he collected in the nearby stream (where katsuki fell).

fun fact about mounting dragonflies: they lose colours when they’re dead. you can use acetone to not only help preserve its colours, but also to stop its decay. they decay so quickly, it’s terrible.

anyways, izuku does not know that and instead followed a youtube video of how to mount dragonflies, using an old picture frame as the case.

inko comes home, sees his son doing his stuff and is just happy that izuku’s not rewatching that loud all might video. she helps him pin the other wings and they are fascinated at how pretty they look. well, the next day, the wings are now transparent and the belly side of the dragonflies are black. it also stinks so they had to throw the whole thing plus the case.

izuku’s fascination grows from there.

a failed experiment, after all, instigates the desire to right them.

so that’s where he starts: butterflies, moths, beetles, another dragonfly case.

katsuki is fascinated and disgusted because, “why would you want dead insects in your room, deku?”

the rest began when the bakugou’s and the midoriya’s have road trips. inko doesn’t have a car so the bakugou’s drive along with them, and it’s a good day. the kids are having fun and getting along, and the parents are chilling and enjoying their vacation. life is good.

then on their drive home, izuku, who is sitting sandwiched between katsuki and inko, lets out this blood-curdling scream. it wakes katsuki up and almost had masaru swerving the car out of the highway.

“maru-san (because my boy izuku cannot say masaru) can you please stop the car! i wanna get that!” he screams, pointing at something indecipherable by the side of the roads.

masaru does anyways because it’s so rare for izuku to request something, but also his heart’s still pumping so fast after izuku’s scream.

masaru wasn’t even done stopping the engine when the car doors are opening, and katsuki and izuku are tumbling out, hand-in-hand. masaru and inko follow them closely, while mitsuki stayed to watch over the car.

katsuki’s excited for an adventure, but then izuku just. stops them. in front of a skull.

masaru chokes from behind them and katsuki lets go of izuku’s hand so fast, running back to his dad because, again, “deku what the shit?”

izuku ignores him and gestures at the deer skull, one that has moss growing by the teeth and around the jaw, turning to inko to ask, “mama? can we bring that home?”

masaru feels very faint, but doesn’t say anything when inko easily agrees, laughing at her boy and patting his untameable hair as if your child asking you for a carcass’s skull is normal.

inko picks it up and they go back to the car. mitsuki does a double-take on what inko’s holding, but shushes up when she saw izuku bouncing happily. katsuki hesitantly sits beside izuku, but when izuku began yammering about all might, he forgets about the skull and nerds out with izuku.

inko explains to mitsuki and masaru about her son’s newfound interest, telling them that it’d go away in two years, don’t worry.

it didn’t. instead, his interest and his collection grew. so for his subsequent birthdays, along with hero merch, he has vulture culture collections gifted to him.

when he moved to the dorms, they’re more packaged than his hero merch and katsuki wants to get angry because he’s been looking for those limited hero merch and yet there they are, chilling beside izuku’s many many skulls and bones.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU STARTED COLLECTING THE ALL MIGHT HAWAIIAN SHIRTS WHEN HE WAS TWELVE

he ransacked for the very first edition, often saving his allowance just so he can buy the retro versions of the all might hawaiian shirts. sometimes he’d barter, but that’s only when he’s really desperate for the shirts. usually he’d just be in an auction site and buy just those.

he’d take katsuki with him and katsuki is very careful in what to buy, often researching the things and having a very long pros and cons list to narrow down what he’d buy, then his best bud izuku just out there buying all might hawaiian shirts.

funniest thing too is that those are the first to go because they? don’t value much? and they’re ugly, tbh, and yet izuku’s slurping them all up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the first time class 1a were talking about plushies, izuku dropped the names and they’re confused because-

“bro did you name your plushies with lovecraft names?” OR “bro? do you perhaps have personalized lovecraft toys?”

it’s the earlier one but izuku would want to buy personalized lovecraft monster toys.

ok but? he names them as per the appropriate lovecraft characters? like:

a purple octopus plushie is called azathoth.

a green gecko plushie is called bokrug.

a fish plushie (literally nemo) is called dagon instead of nemo.

a pink jellyfish plushie is mother of pus.

he has other plushies that have normal names (well, as normal as naming a plushie “cheese grater”), but he has a collection of specific plushies that align with lovecraft beings.

he writes all might x reader fanfictions, i’m sorry ;v;

he only writes them because he doesn’t want other heroes with all might, but also the reader pairing gets more views than all might with other heroes.

katsuki caught him writing a slowburn, enemies to lovers all might x reader fanfic and proceeded to proofread it for him.

synopsis of the fanfiction: reader is a villain with a sound quirk (tailored to present mic’s quirk) and all might met them in a hero gala where the reader pretended to be a worker so that they could infiltrate the gala’s holder’s office for a specific banking access that is linked to the world’s bank. all might manages to sniff them out and proceeds to fight them, but when a beam is about to hit the reader, all might swoops in and saves them. cue the reader developing unwanted feelings for their greatest foe, all might.

aND THEN!!! all might knows the reader outside of their villain persona and is actually very much taken by them. so it’s a painful surprise that the reader is a villain. but he is willing to save them.

it is still incomplete despite having 102 chapters. by chapter 78, katsuki asked for payment because shit was too long and too angsty.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HEISOSL IZUKU HAS A WORM ON A STRING DOOR CURTAIN

he genuinely likes them but creating the door curtain kind of extinguished that interest because that’s just too much worms and too much strings for a single curtain, and it was very much tiring.

he has a tiny one stitched on his blazer and inko heaved this really big sigh when she saw that her son’s crisp UA uniform got a worm by the chest pocket.

aizawa eyed it once and was so close to expelling izuku just because of that.

shouto, when they became friends, sends a box of them to izuku because he thought that those are izuku’s favourite. katsuki had not stopped cackling when he saw the huge box of them.

to punish katsuki, he made a furby with worm hair and left it by katsuki’s door. katsuki’s scream woke everyone up.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the moment he walked out with a plague mask, tokoyami was exiting his dorm room too and they made a long eye contact.

tokoyami does not know if he is amazed by izuku’s plague mask or he is terrified because why does it look authentic.

for halloween, he was a plague doctor.

he stowed them away after saving eri.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

his first women hero cosplay was in third grade when they had a play about different heroes. the girl who was playing ragdoll got sick and everyone’s already strapped in as their hero and unwilling to change. izuku, himself, is present mic (katsuki’s all might).

the girls don’t want to give up their heroes and izuku, the bestest boy, goes and says he will become ragdoll.

their teacher agrees and helps him strap in as ragdoll and you know what, izuku loves it.

from then on, he tries to cosplay as much women heroes that he can afford. inko loves helping him and katsuki thinks he is adorable but! dont tell deku!!!

OK BUT he wore the dress that broke the internet once and katsuki almost exploded the dress off him. almost because izuku dodged and warned him that if he ever breaks that dress, katsuki will have to pay (either monetary or revenge, katsuki doesn’t know so he behaved).

FOR HALLOWEEN, HE WORE THIS AND KATSUKI HATES IT

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku painting star freckles on his face!!!! or heart freckles!!!! or flowers!!!!

izuku in fairy makeup, pleaseee!

he also loves giving katsuki his own freckles because something about blonde hair and red eyes with pale cheeks kissed by freckles is making izuku gay panic.

izuku putting concealer on his own freckles once and his classmates are looking at him weirdly, wondering why he looks off?

like he still looks amazing, but something’s missing. it’s fucking them up and katsuki isn’t helping them so they’re trying to piece what’s up.

it takes monoma sneering at izuku and asking where his eight freckles are that 1a realizes why he looks different.

ok but denki asking monoma why he knows how much freckles izuku has and monoma spluttering, bright red and embarrassed, until he just walks away.

(answer: he’s crushing on green bean).

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

IZUKU HAVING A COLLECTION OF LIKE ARCHAIC? BREWING? STUFF? BOOKS.

i dont know how to explain it but my friend has this specific book about poisons, detailing recipes and ingredients.

it also talks about the use of frogs, lizards, snakes. the benefits of different flowers (ones with toxins) and how to use them during tea time.

it’s bizarre but the book looks pretty so i think izuku would have a handful of those in his room.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

izuku eating grass? flowers? trying dandelions and complaining that it’s furry

izuku wandering what a twig tastes like so he just sucks on it like a lollipop.

inko gave up on stopping him because her son would just eat anything but his broccolis, and she’s very much tired of thinking if izuku would have an upset stomach. he never had.

first time mitsuki saw izuku do that, she forced him to drink cola and eat candy to cleanse his palette.

katsuki goads him on eating more.

izuku’s favourite is chewing on maple leaves. he’s just a weird boy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

OK BUT THE FINAL ONE ABOUT HIS ALL MIGHT POSTERS?? I HAVENT STOPPED LAUGHINGF

izuku wanting more all might figurines than posters. he only has some chemistry stuff (periodic table) on his wall, a little tapestry that matches inko’s, a canvas of monet’s water lilies (again, matching inko), and some cosmic facts that he bought online.

and yk katsuki sees those and thinks that it’s so weird that izuku has those posters but not all might?

his first thought was, “he doesn’t like all might as much as i do.”

the following one is, “he’s straight so he doesn’t want a guy’s face on his wall.”

katsuki’s mouth so happens to say the second one and the next week he visited izuku’s room again, each surface of the wall that is not taken by pinned insects and his frog-book stuff, plus his other existing non-hero posters, is covered in just all might posters.

he belatedly realizes that his own face is also on izuku’s wall, but that’s for later musings because for now he’s jealous that izuku managed to scourge the limited all might posters, but also is disgusted a bit because that’s too much all might.

katsuki walks out before his interest in all might plummets.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

ps to my beloved: ﹤୨♡୧﹥

GOBLIN I LOVE YOUR AUS ALL THE TIME AND IM SORRY FOR RESPONDING SO LATE! YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE AND I LOVE U!!!! you’re genuinely so precious pls dont stop your ramblings!!!!

153 notes · View notes

ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

can I request one where on doomsday dream techno Phil and y/n team up. like this team is super op cuz they’re all good at pvp.

RAMZA I WANNA SAY I LOVE YOUR WRITING YOU ARE VERY POG. STAY HYDRATED EAT WELL AND SLEEO WELL!!!

Reader Joins Team Doomsday

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, Philza, Dream, Quackity, Ponk, Tubbo, (mentioned Tommy)

Warnings: fighting, mention of death (non descriptive), falling (non descriptive), cursing

Series: a request by a nice anon 💙

Summary: Dream and Technoblade just teamed up in front of almost whole L’Manberg which was a catrastrophic outcome in of itself but when Dream exteneded his invite for teaming up also to Y/N? The L’Manberg people knew they were absolutely screwed.

Words count: 3930

Authors Note: Thank you for the request!! 💙 Also thank you for the nice words!!! I hope you are doing well! Please make sure to stay hydrated and that you rest as well! Thank you pog anon!!

„Listen, we will blow up L’Manberg this time tomorrow!” Dream yelled out. His voice echoing through the ruin that used to be the Community House. All while he was surrounded by a handful of people decked out in armor brandishing their weapons.

Techno stood close by him. A sick grin on his face while he held his infamous rocket launcher between his hands. No surprise there that he would immediately jump on the idea of blowing up this government, especially after they went out of their way trying to kill him while he was in retirement.

A few people let out shocked gasps or surprised exclamations as Dream announced this. Knowing that Dream was a hundred percent serious with this, as well as Techno. Those two were a dangerous combination. A deadly even.

So when Dream moved his head upwards to look at Y/N who seemed to stoically stare at the happenings and calmly asked “Won’t you join us, Y/N?” Everyone’s worry spiked even more.

Y/N scoffed and slammed the end of the trident they were holding onto the small bit of solid ground they were standing on “You already know my answer, Dream.”

While Techno seemed to be a bit confused for a few seconds he appeared to make the connection. Those two have talked about this beforehand.

The others didn’t seem to understand though.

“Y/N? You are joining them?” Tubbo sounded downright hurt.

In that moment Quackity chimed in as well “You are betraying us?”

The grip on Y/N’s trident strengthened “You bet I will! You guys never treated me like one of yours! All I was good for was to get you better gear or play body guard! Hell, at some point you guys basically imprisoned me only to let me out to train you on how to fight Techno! One of my dear friends! How does this surprise you?”

People were already panicked and scared but this was the disaster scenario. There were only three people on this server known for being amazing fighters and all three of them just banded together to destroy their home and possibly kill them all.

Before anyone could retort Dream clapped loudly in his hands to pull everyone’s attention back on himself “We gave you the warning, that’s all. See you all tomorrow.”

With that Dream used an Ederpearl to flee. Y/N followed him suit, having all of this planned out beforehand. Though this also meant they awkwardly left Techno behind but he should be fine. After all he was the Technoblade and as everybody knew Technoblade never dies.

Once the two were far enough away Dream turned to Y/N “Thanks. I appreciate what you are doing. Wouldn’t want to fight against you.”

Y/N laughed “Neither do I. They already looked so scared with your team up with Techno but after you pulled me in they really looked like sheets of paper. It was… interesting to see. Either way I should be the one thanking you. You are giving me a chance for revenge.”

They continued to move towards a snowy tundra. Dream taking the lead since Y/N has been stuck in L’Manberg in the last few months. They wore netherite armor but it was unenchanted. Given to them by the butcher army after they told them of their plan to kill Dream.

The original plan was that Y/N would join them later and make sure that they will be alright. Playing a bodyguard for them once again. Normally they would have used the given armor and weapons as soon as they got it to flee but Dream has met them before this even happened. Hatching out a plan together so in the end this gear was an added bonus that gave extra protection while they fled with Dream.

“Why are we here?”

“Well we gotta prepare.” Dream answered as if that would answer Y/N’s question sufficiently.

While Y/N didn’t exactly truly trust Dream, mostly due to the fact they trusted no one, they didn’t feel the need to ask him to elaborate and instead continued to follow him dutiful. He had something planned and they had to follow him no matter what.

Where else could they go? Their only home was in L’Manberg even if it was more of a prison.

Dream was an enigma to them. Y/N had fought with the man a few times and it was always incredibly tiring every time which was something new for them.

Both Dream and Techno were physical strong, though Y/N suspected that Techno was a bit stronger simply because of his Piglin side.

Techno was a master at preparing and using everything to his disposal and if he didn’t have it he wasn’t scared to spend a ludicrous amount of time to gather these items. He was like a true juggernaut. People called him the Blood God for a reason after all.

Dream was more versatile. Of course he did plan things beforehand but he was better at acting during the situation. If the situation changed you can bet that he was already three moves ahead and noticed things around him he can use for his advantage. Now combine this with the knowledge he had about the world and he seemed almost unstoppable.

Just like Dream and Techno they too were physical strong which came naturally over the years but they relied more on their speed. Being a master at dodging blows and abusing peoples weak spots before they even realize they had any.

Now that they teamed up Y/N could understand how the people begun to fret. Alone the three were a force to be reckoned with but together it wasn’t hard to imagine that they could level a whole city or a nation in this specific case.

“Here, we arrived.” Dream almost whispered. His porcelain mask hiding his satisfied smile as he spotted Techno talking with Philza inside what looked like a nether wart farm. Probably telling him about what just happened and how Tommy betrayed him.

Philza waved towards the two new arrivals “Hello Dream and Y/N.”

Surprised Techno turned around.

“What? We have to plan this somehow even a little bit. This is a bit bigger than just winging it.” Dream explained.

Techno stepped out of the farm and dug his finger into Dream’s shoulder “I have a bone to pick with you two.” He made sure to throw his frown towards Y/N as well as he said that “You just left me! You left me alone surrounded by like thirty people!”

Dream slowly pushed Techno’s hand away from him “And yet here you stand alive and well.”

“No thanks to you!”

“Boy, am I glad to finally meet my old friend Technoblade after being imprisoned inside my own home.” Y/N interjected, already having heard enough of their bickering.

Philza sharply sucked in some air “Yeah, I know what that feels like.”

Techno sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose “Don’t get me even started on you. They started a government right in front of us, you helped me build the Wither’s that destroyed them and yet you still stayed.”

“Oh, Techno you know very well what happened! They managed to catch me when I made sure to keep them off your back as you fled! Besides it gave me time to find out more about their structure and what was happening! I couldn’t know we wouldn’t need it in the end since Dream himself appeared to join our cause in this instance!”

Dream was calm and collected before but now he seemed almost apalled that Y/N would throw such an accusation against him “What?! Now it’s my fault?!”

Phil made his way towards the arguing warriors and made sure to stand in between them, they wouldn’t fight, not yet at least, the fight wasn’t heated enough for that but he needed to get their attention off each other “Okay, I think that is enough. You only have so much time to plan Doomsday.”

“You are right Phil, of course. Well then I have to show both Dream and Y/N something.” Techno seemed to have calmed down and made his way towards his home. Dream followed him and Y/N was about to follow him as well but Philza stopped them by laying his hand on their shoulder.

“Are you okay? You basically have been locked up by the L’Manbergians longer than me”

Y/N smiled softly “Besides missing my old gear? I am alright. Really. But thanks for asking.”

This seemed to be answer enough since he let his hand fall back to his side and instead concentrated on Techno who came running out of his house again with a button in his hand. Dream closely following and confused. Y/N assumed he was confused by his body language but it was hard to tell with his mask.

“Please follow me.”

So the group did as he ran around the corner towards a mountain range. All the while complaining to Chat, the voices in his head, that they had wants for completely unrelated things.

He placed the button down and pressed it. With the loud sounds of pistons moving a flat stone wall begun retracting giving away to a room with wither skulls on the back of the room. Soul Sand structures decorating the room as well as a few chests and what looked like the start of a netherite armor set.

“What!?” Dream exclaimed in his typical fashion running into the hidden place to get a better look at the Wither skulls.

While Y/N was certainly impressed by this something felt off about this. Technically those were a ton of Wither skulls since they are incredibly hard to get by but it didn’t feel enough for Techno but Y/N chose to hold their thoughts to themself.

“As you can see we have enough for a few Withers and combined with, you mentioned raining down TnT?”

“Yeah, Yeah I did. A machine that will literally rain down TnT on the nation.”

“Yeah, combined with that and our fighting power we shouldn’t have a problem destroying L’Manberg.”

Y/N stretched “Okay, we got the gist of the plan I guess but I want a proper one. How will this go down exactly?”

The next day Y/N woke up early. More out of habit than need. They put on their freshly enchanted netherite armor and grabbed their new weapons as well. A netherite sword, crossbow and trident. Techno was already up, probably way before them. He was meticulous when it comes to preparing for fights after all.

As Y/N climbed down the ladder to get to the main level of Techno’s house they found him looking through a chest.

“Morning Techno and thanks for the makeshift bed and letting me sleep over.”

“Seeing as you are currently homeless I didn’t really have a choice and besides it makes it easier to meet up. Even though mister green Teletubby thought otherwise.” He grumbled “By the way there are some baked potatoes inside the furnace. Feel free to grab some.”

Y/N nodded and moved towards the furnace grabbing their breakfast. Potatoes, how typical.

The next few hours was spent by Techno, Philza and Y/N brewing potions as well as warming up. They got into their armor and made sure all of their equipment was working.

Now imagine their surprise while all of them were deep in their preparations and Dream appeared a good hour or so too early.

“Dream? Already here?” Y/N asked him.

He laughed “What? Already sick of me? I’m joking but there is a small change in plans. Let’s get going. Now.”

In the last part the tone in his voice changed from happy to serious which gave Y/N a bit of whiplash with how fast he could apparently change his emotions.

Technoblade pivoted his head to the side “Why already? Did something happen?”

Thankfully Dream shook his head “No, but let’s catch them off guard. If we go now they will surely be surprised.”

“Huh. He has a point.” Philza noted.

So the small group, they begun calling themselves Team Doomsday, started making their way towards L’Manberg but not without first getting Techno’s Hound Army. It was a bit stressful to get through the Nether with them but in the end they managed to reach the Community Nether Portal which led them close to the nation.

“I’m getting ready for the TnT, you all three get into the city and begin doing your thing. Techno as soon as you give me the signal I will spawn Withers and start the machine.” Dream ranted off resulting in Y/N rolling their eyes.

“Dream we were there when we planned this all.”

“Right.” And with that he vanished.

Technoblade turned to Philza “And you stay out of danger. Just spawn some Withers and by Ender stay out of danger. Call for us if anyone gets too close to you.”

This was Philza’s time to roll his eyes “Mate, I know. I’ll be fine!”

He most likely would. Philza was some apparently immortal being after all that still somehow only had one life. It was confusing but Y/N didn’t want to ask since Philza himself seemed to be very secretive about his nature.

With that Philza made sure to stay far away from Techno and Y/N. Still watching them but from a safe distance, holding onto the bag with the extra Wither skulls from Techno.

Together Y/N and Techno ran into the city with the wolves. As soon as Techno spotted Tubbo he immediately ordered his hounds to attack but didn’t attack himself immediately. He needed Tubbo to call the others so this thing could really start. After all, all of them had to get what’s due for them.

And indeed it didn’t take long for Quackity and the others to appear.

“Shit, it’s both Y/N and Techno!”

“Where is Dream!”

“No, idea!”

“We are so fucked!”

The people were scrambling, trying to protect their home but every time they got too close to Techno or Y/N the hounds would throw themselves at them. It was almost ironic how when Sapnap appeared the fight really begun.

“Techno I’ll deal with the people! I think it’s time for our secret weapon!” Y/N yelled over the chaos as they kicked Quackity away.

Between the L’Manbergian party Sapnap and Punz were definitely the biggest problem but as it looked like Punz barely participated. Sapnap was a definite surprise so Y/N wanted to deal with him if they get the chance. Test their mettle against him and maybe find out what moved him to work against Dream so readily.

“Got you!” Techno answered, showing that he heard them.

He got out his rocket launcher and shot a few rounds into the air, giving Dream and Phil both the sign. When Techno himself also got out some soul sand the others understood what was happening and tried their best to reach the Pig Hybrid.

Unfortunately for them the hound army and Y/N stopped them dead in their track.

Y/N had no problem running from person to person to either deflect their attack or kick them away from Techno as he built his little contraption. Two Withers already begun flying towards the middle of the nation. This broke up the group and a few decided to dedicate their fighting prowess to ensure that the Withers wouldn’t cause too much damage.

To that suddenly red TnT blocks suddenly begun raining down from the sky. A manic laughing Dream standing on top of an obsidian structure.

While the people scrambled to not die to the Withers, the dogs or the explosions, Team Doomsday, minus Phil, saw their chance to properly get into the fights.

Y/N didn’t spend any time waiting and immediately jumped in front of Sapnap’s way brandishing their sword. A smirk on their face.

Sapnap looked determined but worry still managed to crack through his expression. He locked his eyes with theirs and moved in heaving his sword up in order to strike them.

But Y/N stayed calm. They took a step forward and practically flowed around him, dodging his attack as they slammed down the sword at his side. It made contact with his armor but as it slid down the metal it managed to hit an exposed part of his arm.

Hissing Sapnap tried hitting them with a sweeping move towards their direction. Y/N used their sword to redirect his weapons movement away from them.

“Your reaction time is good! Too bad I’m better.” Y/N mused as they went back in to attack him.

They attacked him again, giving him a false sense as he tried to block their incoming attack only for them to move around again and kick him in the back of his knee. His leg buckled and crashed down into the dirt. Without any mercy Y/N kicked him again in his leg using the extra strength they had due to the strength potions.

“Fuck!” Sapnap cried out and put his hand inside a brown bag on his side, getting out an Enderpearl and throwing it away. He soon followed and disappeared as well.

“Oh no! You get back here! I haven’t even had the chance to ask you what the hell you think you are doing!”

But Sapnap didn’t hear them. He was too busy dodging attacks from a Wither.

“Y/N!” It was Phil calling out to them. As Y/N looked to where his voice came from they noticed both Ponk and Quackity coming closer to him. They knew he probably could deal with them but still. He was on his last life after all. Extra caution was warranted.

Y/N angled their own Enderpearl towards the blonde brit. Originally planned to be used to follow Sapnap but Phil was more important right now.

The wind got knocked out of their lungs as they landed in front of Phil. The sound of metal hitting each other rung out. A sword hitting Y/N’s armored back.

For a second Phil looked surprised only to jump back to his serious expression as he managed to see Y/N’s smile. He immediately got out a splash potion and threw it at himself and Y/N. They immediately noticed their strength returning. A healing potion. He got another one which seemed to be a strength potion, prolonging the effect that was already on them.

Thankful for the small pit stop Y/N turned around while he was busy throwing the strength potions, looking Quackity right in his face.

Quackity looked pretty confident before but now he was white as snow. Ponk put his second hand on the hilt of the sword. His sword was the one that clattered down on Y/N only to get parried by their armor.

“You betrayed us! Y/N! Do you really wanna do this?” Quackity tried to appeal to them.

Y/N sneered “How does this surprise you still? How? How does this not get in your head? You imprisoned me and made me work against my will against one of my only friends? How does this not enter your thick skull?”

They moved their arm up and brought it down on Quackity. It didn’t surprise them that he managed to parry it with his own but Y/N doubled down pressing down on the blade with their own. Effectively locking him into this position.

Obviously Ponk saw his chance and tried attacking Y/N who was preoccupied with the Vice President but Philza was still there. He just had to extend his trident and managed to interlock Ponk’s blade between the forks of his weapons.

“Phil!” Weirdly enough he seemed to be surprised by that.

“You were about to attack me! Don’t sound so shocked!”

Y/N pushed even harder on Quackity, forcing him to take a step back, getting dangerously close to the edge of the crater that the TNT is still in the progress of making.

“You are just as bad as Techno. Just as bad as Dream.” He spat. Still trying to work against Y/N’s strength.

“From what I saw in my time in this L’Manberg I very much prefer that. At least they treat me like a human person and not just as a weapon to be used!”

With that Y/N musted up the rest of their strength and pushed even harder down. Forcing out a yell as they pushed him one last time. Quackity not having enough strength to hold out anymore had to take another step only to find that there was no ground anymore. He slipped and fell down into the crater.

Not wasting any time Y/N spun towards Ponk who was clashing his sword against Philza’s shield. He was a good enough fighter but it still looked pathetic. He was too desperate.

Y/N used the adrenaline of arguing with Quackity to run and throw their whole body into Ponk. Making him stumble and fall down onto the ground.

Pointing their sword at his throat “I’m sorry Ponk. I respect you for standing up to your ideals but here is the end of the road today for you. Maybe next time you will have a better chance.”

His eyes widened and a weak protest left his mouth but Y/N ignored it. Pushing their sword down, killing him. His body dissolving into golden dust. He was returning to his bed and respawning.

Phil looked at his worn out shield “You okay, Y/N?”

They laughed dryly “I should ask you that. I am fine. I am holding my own out here, how are you?”

“I’m luckily good as well. Thanks for helping me, Y/N.”

It was sad to think about how they never got a proper thanks from the L’Manberg people. It was expected that they helped them.

Y/N nodded “Always.”

They wanted to jump back into the fight but suddenly Dream stood next to them. Looking over the crater.

The opposing party was scattered. Now more dealing with injuries than the fights. Only one Wither left flying around. The crater reached bedrock and yet the explosions still rang.

“I think it’s time we go. This nation is done for.” He spoke.

Techno joined the party. He looked like he was doing alright. His armor obviously scratched up but he was doing alright.

“I say we seemed to be successful.” He noted.

Dream put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder “I saw you fight. Did you know that a few people did a wide berth around you? Avoiding you at all cost?”

Y/N raised one of their eyebrows as they stared at Dream’s masked face. His head directed straight ahead as he observed Tommy who helped Tubbo with one of his injuries he acquired when he protected him from one of Techno’s rockets.

A few seconds passed in silence but then he turned his head towards Y/N “They are scared of you. Proof of your strength. Do with that knowledge what you will but I thought I should tell you since it was interesting to watch from above.”

“Let’s get going. If we wait long enough for them to recuperate then we might still have a problem since we are getting low on potions as well.” Techno spoke in a calm voice.

Truly. For Tommy, Tubbo, for all of the people who tried to protect L’Manberg. The team up of Dream, Techno, Philza and Y/N was their biggest nightmare that just came to fruition.

They knew they didn’t have a chance and yet they had to try. Had to try to protect their home like they always did but it was a vain effort. Who would have enough power to fight against warrior gods?

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #technoblade #technoblade fanfiction #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken fanfiction #philza #philza fanfiction #ramza writes

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

Text

The Agony & The Ecstasy

Can also be read on AO3 here

Word Count: 5.2k

Description: #HappyBirthdayAsmodeus 2021!! Before he was the Avatar of Lust, he was the Jewel of the Heavens. A journey from the angel Asmo used to be, to the demon he's become.

[cw: sexual mentions]

The Agony

He sat before the mirror of his bedroom, sketching his lean cheeks with their high bone ridges, his soft lips, the gentle curls of his champagne-toned hair, the light in his orange-yellow eyes.

The Jewel of the Heavens, they called him. The most beautiful of the angels. So lovely that even Jophiel, the patron angel of artists, had asked if she could have a painting to keep of him. And so, here he was, trying to capture his image on canvas for the archangel.

Asmodeus was proud of how everyone admired him, but truthfully he didn't think it was anything so special. Rather, he was more focused on how lovely everyone else around him was. He wouldn't say that he wasn't beautiful, but so was anyone, in one way or another. There was so much to admire in everyone that his heart ached every day. He longed to help them see themselves the way he saw them.

The lilting notes of a bird's song through the open window broke him out of his thoughts, and he set his sketch down for the moment to greet it.

"Well hello, bluebird dear," he greeted it with a smile, holding his hand out. "How are you today?" The bird trilled with delight in response, rubbing its head against his fingers, and he laughed, petting the creature. "Your singing is so lovely, my dear. What a beautiful day to hear your song."

"Oi, Asmo, good, you're here!" he heard his brother call from below the window. "Lilith and the twins snuck off down to the human world again, could ya go get them? Geez, those troublemakers...I've gotta help Lucifer with somethin' so I need you to go, okay?"

"Whaaaat, they went and they didn't invite me?" he pouted. "I can't believe them!"

"Hey, hey, that's not the point," Mammon groaned, rolling his eyes at his younger sibling. "Gabriel is looking for Beel and Belphie, and you know he'll flip if he finds out they went down to the human realm without permission."

"Okay, okay, I got it. I'll get them, don't worry! Walk with me to the portal?"

"Agh, I'm busy you know," Mammon groaned, though he didn't seem all that upset. "But fine, I get it, ya wanna spend some time with your big older brother! Leave it to Mammon!"

"You tell yourself that," Asmo giggled. He hopped down from the window, fluttering down gracefully on the lightness of his robes. "So where in the human world do you think they went this time?"

"Well, you know, Belphie always wants to go to that circus he likes. He mighta dragged the other two along with him."

"Ooooh, right, the circus! The acrobats are so graceful, with the way they glide around in the air. They don't even have wings, but they figured out a way to look like they're flying! Humans really are interesting, aren't they?"

"You think so? I think it's kinda scary, man," Mammon shuddered.

"Well just because you might trip over yourself even on the ground doesn't mean everyone's that clumsy!" Asmo teased.

"Oi! Take that back! I can walk just fine, thank you!"

"Heehee!"

"Anyway, if they're not at the circus, maybe one of those restaurants? Beel's been eating a lot lately, maybe he wanted to try some human realm food."

"Ah, yeah! The fancy restaurants down there make such pretty dishes! The chefs are such artists," Asmo said admiringly, eyes glittering. "I'd like to try one too..."

"Hey, don't forget you're goin' there to get the twins to come back! Don't get distracted by running off down there yourself!"

"But I never get to go down to see the human realm! And the three of them like it so much, you know, it'd be nice to see how pretty everything is for myself," Asmo smiled innocently.

The two of them stopped as they reached their destination.

"Oi, Asmo, I'm serious. You better not go off hitting on everyone you see again," Mammon warned.

"Hey! I'm not hitting on them, I just think everyone is beautiful, and they should know it," Asmo protested. "You're just jealous because they like me more than you. But if you saw the good in everyone you met like me, they'd love you too! You should try it sometime!"

"Ugh, Asmo...don't be gross. And seriously, come right back once you find them. Gabriel's gonna have my hide too if they don't report to him soon, after he asked me to send them over."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I'll be back before you know it!"

The younger brother waved breezily as he stepped through the portal.

When the light of the portal faded from his vision, Asmodeus found himself in a quiet, hidden spot of a sunny park. Birds chirped, dogs were playing, and he could hear the screaming laughter of children from farther away. In the distance, he could see a news board by the nearby street, which seemed as good a place as any to start checking for information about the circus.

Before he could make it over there, though, a young woman stopped him. "Ahh, excuse me! I just, um, y-you're really handsome, and um...I-I just wanted to say hello. Are you visiting our town? Would you like to spend some time together....maybe come with me to the bakery down the street?! I want to get to know you," she blurted out.

He laughed with delight. "Oooh, aren't you adorable! Forget me, you're so pretty yourself! Your skin is so radiant, and your eyes are so sweet," he cooed. She blushed bright red at the compliments immediately. "Oh! But...I don't have time to go to a bakery right now, I'm looking for my little siblings. Unless you've seen a pair of boys with a girl around there? A tall guy with orange hair, and a sleepy black-haired boy?"

"I, um..." she paused, mind racing on how to keep him interested. "You know, I-I might have seen them. Or maybe, um...maybe the baker has! P-people are going in there all the time, you know, s-so maybe he might have seen them...? I'm sure he'll be able to help!"

It was fairly obvious that she was lying, but Asmo couldn't help but be charmed by her shy attempts at staying with him. His heart tugged him to go along with it anyway, just as it tugged at anyone he came across, especially those who were so drawn in by him too. He couldn't help it, even if it got him into trouble at times. So he agreed.

"Hmm, is that so? Okay! Let's go then."

She led him along the road to the bakery, an extravagant little spot for the size of the shop, where the man at the counter unhelpfully told them that he'd seen a lot of boys around and couldn't possibly remember them all. "Maybe if you buy some bread, I might remember better. I recommend some of these tarts...and you'd better take this big loaf right here too, to be sure I don't forget again," he said with a vicious grin. "We charge by the ounce, of course."

The angel gave him a bright smile back. "Oooh, they do look delicious! You must be so talented to create such beautiful things, sir! Oh, but...I don't have any money on me..."

This clearly irked the man, though something about Asmo's cheerful expression at least stopped him from throwing the pair straight out of the shop, as he usually might with people like this, who came in with no money. He eyed the golden bangle on his visitor's wrist. "Give me that then," he demanded, pointing. "I'll give it to my daughter. She'll like it."

Against his better judgment, the angel obliged. After all, it was just a part of the human world disguise he wore - he could just make another one later. And the baker was going to give it to his daughter, which was certainly kind. Or at least, he thought that was better than just selling it, like most people would. How lovely for a father to want to give his daughter nice presents. "Here, you can have this then. So, about my brothers...?"

The human greedily snatched the bangle from his palm. "Sure, they came in, just about an hour ago probably. The orange-haired one bought more bread than I thought I would sell all day. The girl, she was talking about wanting to visit someone in town. She didn't mention where, but it sounded like it was near the square. And the boys, they wanted to go to the circus that's visiting. They're over at the edge of town."

Satisfied with this new information but not exactly pleased about what the exchange had cost him, he thanked the baker and excused himself from both humans.

Frustrating as it was, this was how it always went. Asmodeus felt himself filled to the brim overflowing with love for everyone, painfully so. And no matter how they lied, or tried to trick him, or took advantage of him, he still loved them so much. It wasn't that he was naive, or that he didn't notice, but just that he always still saw the good parts of them too.

At least he knew where to head from here, though. It sounded like Lilith had probably split off from the twins, but since Mammon had only asked him to send Beel and Belphie back, he'd worry about her later. First, the circus.

Luckily, by this point, Belphegor had been caught dragging his twin to such shows often enough that Asmo could pretty easily predict what area of the audience he'd find them in. He made his way into the tent and quickly located the pair. "You two!" he hissed quietly from the row behind them. "You know you shouldn't be running off to the human world while everyone is still working! Mammon said Gabriel was looking for you. You'd better get back, right now!"

The twins looked at him guiltily, two sets of apologetic eyes. "Sorry, it's my fault...Lilith said she wanted to visit someone, and you know Lucifer always scolds her not to go down alone. So I said we should come too," Beelzebub explained quickly.

"It's my fault too, Beel," Belphie added. "After she met up with them, I wanted to come see the circus again...sorry."

"Ahhh, okay, okay! I can't be mad at such cute younger brothers! Just hurry up and go!" Asmo said, waving away their apologies. "I'll find Lilith to make sure she comes back okay too."

Relieved at his easy forgiveness, the two of them slipped out quietly to head back.

The elder brother sat there a while longer. He'd never actually been to a circus himself before, and he was curious. It was entrancing - contortionists twisting their bodies in fascinating ways, trapeze artists flying gracefully across the air, the balance of the tightrope walkers and the authority of the ringmaster. Though he didn't know them, his heart ached with admiration at the performers below. It was easy to see why their youngest brother loved coming to these so much.

Before he knew it, he had stayed to the end of the show, and the audience was filtering out around him. But he didn't want to leave just yet, and longed for more. Without really thinking, he wandered out to the back of the tent, to the performer's entrance.

"Oh? A fan?"

He blushed a little as realized his mistake, meeting the eyes of the acrobat who had addressed him. "Hi there! I guess you could call me a fan, yes? Your performances out there were just sooo beautiful!"

An amused smile crossed her face. "Well aren't you a cutie. What's your name, hon?"

"I'm Asmodeus!" he replied cheerily. "But my brothers call me Asmo."

"Asmo, eh? Heh. Well, thanks for the compliments, Asmo," she said, leaning in to play with a strand of his hair. "I'm Naamah. Glad you enjoyed the show."

From this close, he could see every detail of how stunning the woman was. Her makeup was thick, as it needed to be for the stage, but it suited her somehow, like her face had always been meant to wear it this way. A tight bun of dark hair sat atop her head, ringed by a blue and red crown of feathers that matched the bright colors of a costume that showed off every curve of her slender, athletic body.

"In fact, Asmo, my dear fan," she continued, "today's your lucky day. I don't feel like sticking around for another of the top hat's fucking lectures about how we need to do better tomorrow. So what do you say we go find ourselves a party, love?"

He thought guiltily back to Lilith, who he had promised to find and escort home. But on the other hand, she had come to see someone, and he didn't really know when she'd be done meeting with this person, or where they were at this point. And he'd never actually been to a party before...

"Have another drink, Asmo, I insist," Naamah laughed tipsily, passing him another cup of wine. "You act like you've never let loose before!"

Truthfully, he sort of hadn't, and for his part, Asmodeus was having a magnificent time. A quaint little band of musicians played upbeat, joyful music from the edge of the courtyard, which was packed with merry folks in all sorts of costumes. His new friend had mentioned on their way here that it was a costume party, and the costumes truly did not disappoint - people here were dressed up as angels, demons, all kinds of animals, and even as things he'd never heard of before. Even after changing partially back into his angel form to let his wings free, he didn't feel like he stood out any more than anyone else.

And the dancing! The overflowing love he felt had an outlet for once, here where he could feed the energy back through his movements, passing from partner to partner without anyone to scold him for being too loose with his love. He couldn't help but think that the Celestial Realm felt so stuffy by comparison - all music back home being generally restricted to choirs to their father, and none of the raucous laughter and chatter filling the air the way the humans were doing here. The seraphs were strict on the lower angels, insisting on upright perfection at all times.

"This is so much fun," he said as he clinked his new cup against Naamah's with a laugh, giggling even harder when she then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Pass it on," she dared in a whisper to his ear.

Being the Jewel of the Heavens, always filled with love as he was, it didn't take long for him to find another person to pass the kiss on to. He got up and lightly pecked a man by the sidelines on the cheek. "Hi there, darling. Would you like to dance?" he asked sweetly.

The man reddened slightly at the kiss but agreed quickly to a song, and Asmo found himself soon in another round of dancing, whirling between partners until he had probably danced with each person at least three times. Mid-step as he was about to pass to Naamah again, he noticed a figure moving quickly by from across the road.

A very familiar figure.

"Ack, I'm sorry - I've got to go," he said quickly, leaving his companion very confused as he dashed off from her and the rest of the party.

"Lilith!" he called out, chasing after her in the now-fallen night.

His sister startled at the sound of his voice. "Asmo? What are you doing here in the human realm?"

"You know, really I should be the one asking you that, sis!" he responded, patting her on the head as he caught up. "Mammon sent me here to find you and the twins. Although I, hehe, might have gotten a bit distracted on my way to find you after I sent the twins back. Okay, your turn, what were you doing here?"

She looked away shyly. "I was just, um...meeting someone."

"Ooooh? Tell your big brother more," he teased.

"Well, um...a-actually, Asmo, you love everyone, right? But how do you know you're in love with them?"

That certainly caught him off-guard.

"Hmmm? I never really thought about it," he mused. "I guess it feels kind of warm and fuzzy, right? Or...sometimes it's stronger. Like fire! Like your whole body is in flames, and you're going to burst apart in one biiiig explosion!" Teasingly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and mimicked some explosion sounds. "Why, my dear sister, have you fallen in love with somebody? Were you down here to ask the humans for loooove advice? Who is it, hon? Uriel? Israfil?? Camael?? Or - don't tell me it's Michael?!"

"N-no!" she said, eyes wide. "Ahh, no! No, it's not like that! And don't tell Lucifer or Mammon that I asked about this either!"

Her older brother just giggled mischievously in reply. "Well, let's just get back," he answered, placing his hand on the tree by where he'd landed earlier to open the portal back up.

When they stepped through, their two eldest brothers were waiting for them with scowls.

Lucifer spoke first. "Where have you two been, exactly?"

"Eep! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay out so late!!" Lilith squeaked, quickly hiding behind her other brother. "I just, um--I just wanted to go meet with someone. And I lost track of time."

"What about you? Don't tell me ya got distracted hitting on people again," Mammon said, turning his attention to the other just-returned angel. "I've been havin' to cover for ya all day! Raphael is not happy."

"Hey, you're the one who sent me down there to find the twins!" Asmo argued back.

"Yeah, and they came back ages ago! So where have you been!"

"Well, one of the acrobats from Belphie's circus invited me to a party, so I--"

"A party?" Lucifer growled. "You were out late for a human party?"

"I mean...! I didn't know where to find Lilith or when she'd be done meeting her person, so I just thought I'd have some fun while I was down there," Asmo pouted.

"You still shouldn't be going to human world parties, Asmo," the eldest lectured, refocusing his gaze on their sister. "And as for you, about that person you went to meet...why are you meeting with a human?"

She just looked away.

Lucifer sighed. "Never mind, we'll talk later, Lilith. Just go back to your rooms for now, it's late and the next patrols will be by soon. You're lucky Mammon was the one on duty tonight and reported it straight to me so the other seraphs don't know yet."

With relief, the two of them scurried away back to their respective living quarters.

Back in his room, Asmodeus looked over the sketch of himself he'd been working on earlier that day. After the excitement of the day and the party, it looked so bland now that he looked at it again. It was perfectly in line with the classic portrait style of paintings all over the Celestial Realm, but it felt so flat. He saw the good in everyone, right?

And the best thing about him wasn't his face, or his hair, or the way the sunlight fell perfectly across his face at noon. No, the good thing about him was how he loved everyone, wasn it? The love that filled him to bursting at every moment, the love that felt like heavenly fire coursing through his heart every time he looked at someone. That was what made him the universally admired angel that everybody loved back. This painting needed to show that overflowing love too, didn't it?

He tore the canvas off, stretching a fresh one across the frame to start again.

When Lucifer came to the brothers to say he was going to rebel against their father, Asmodeus didn't hesitate. All of them had heard about what Lilith had done, and how she was set to be punished for it with obliteration. Utter destruction, wiping her from existence. And for what? For her love?

Well, Asmo was intimately familiar with getting in trouble over love. He'd certainly felt the sharp end of Raphael's spear enough times to know that love was not especially prized or respected in the Celestial Realm. Their father had created him with this overwhelming burning of love towards all, yet that same father commanded the angels without regard for love. It was his rules that forbade Asmo from having outlets to express his love, and it was those same rules that would now destroy his sister.

Lucifer had already tried arguing for mercy, to no avail. It didn't matter if it was out of love; all the worse, in fact, because Lilith wasn't supposed to have gone down to the human realm in the first place, let alone fallen in love with one of them. Their father didn't care about love. So, Lucifer would fight.

And so would Asmodeus.

The Ecstasy

When he came to, the first thing Asmo felt was weightlessness.

It wasn't just his clothes, which had transformed from a billowing mass of white robes to a slender, form-fitting black tank top and pants. Nor was it how his large, elegant wings were now turning to four smaller, curled bat-like ones.

No, it was the lack of burning fire in his chest. What normally felt tightly contained within him was looser, freer, like something had unlocked inside of him, allowing it to spill out.

It was such a jarring, unfamiliar feeling that he gasped out for air.

"Asmo!! Beel, Belphie! Levi! Are you all okay?!" Mammon called out at the sound, rushing over. He had landed not too far away, and seemed to have undergone his own transformation, his usual softly draping outfit now full of sharp, cutting lines instead. In fact, it looked like everyone had either changed or was mid-transformation.

"Where's Lilith?" Beelzebub asked immediately, sounding panicked. "She got hit by an arrow earlier and fell during the battle, is she here?! Is she okay?!"

Belphie sat up and looked around before shaking his head. "I don't think she's here," he said softly. "What happened?"

"Mmm, well judging by how we all look, I guess we're...demons now?" Asmo chimed in.

"Aaagh, dammit! I saw Lucifer fly down all of a sudden while we were fightin', but I don't see him here either. He's gotta be around here somewhere though," Mammon said. "C'mon, get up, guys. Levi, you okay over there?"

A pitiful mumble of affirmation came from the cerulean-haired lump. Levi had awoken but, it seemed, simply opted to stay laying on the ground, as if laying there would erase away everything that had just happened.

After a quick check over each of them, Mammon seemed satisfied that there were no major injuries, at least. Aside from, obviously, them all having lost their angel forms, and seemingly having transformed into demons here. Which meant...

"Welcome to the Devildom." A demon in a crisp black and red uniform walked up to them with a polite smile. "Lord Diavolo has requested for all of Lucifer's brothers to come to the RAD student council room at once. Of course, Lucifer himself is there as well."

Ignoring the confused chatter of the brothers, he led them to a grand building, through beautifully sculpted hallways, and into a large courtroom-like chamber.

A large, dark-skinned demon in what looked to be a red school uniform was seated at the judge's seat, and beside him...Lucifer, in a similar uniform as the man who had led them here, as well as a scary-looking blond individual they didn't recognize.

Five piles of cleanly folded uniforms sat on a table in the center of the room.

In what felt like a whirlwind of explanation, the demon at the center introduced himself as Lord Diavolo, confirmed that they were indeed demons now, and explained that, as the demon prince and current ruler of the Devildom, they were now part of his domain. This was RAD, a school for demons, and the demon who had led them here was Barbatos, his personal butler. His father, who had passed the reigns of power but still commanded more respect among the nobles, would help work out the details of their new positions here in the Devildom, but he wanted to welcome them as members of the RAD student council.

It was a lot, but most importantly, they would stay together down here. They would live together, with Lucifer working out the details of their new home, and they would attend this school. Apart from this, they would be eventually assigned other responsibilities, but they would be otherwise free to enjoy the Devildom as they pleased.

As they pleased. Asmodeus wasn't sure what this all meant for them, but he liked the sound of that phrase.

Asmo sighed happily, gazing at himself in his vanity mirror. He looked perfect. His outfit was perfect, with pearly flower earrings perfectly matching the flowery sleeves of his shirt.

After they fell, Mammon had worried and fussed over everyone - not that he would ever admit it outright. Still, the worry had been unmistakable, checking in on each brother every day to make sure they were adjusting okay. But for Asmodeus, things were more than okay. It was like a blindfold had been removed from his eyes.

When he looked at himself now, he understood why everyone had always fawned over his looks - he was gorgeous! How had he never seen it before? He was dazzlingly beautiful. No wonder they had called him the Jewel of the Heavens! And though he was no longer part of, well, heaven, he was still the most stunning being to exist, in all the three realms.

That being the case, it was only right to share himself with everyone, right? Everyone had always wanted to gaze upon him, and at last, with the chains of celestial modesty shed from him, he understood that it was his responsibility to share this gift of his beauty with all.

"I'm heading out!" he called out to his brothers in the common room as he skipped out of the house with excitement. By this point, he'd been to tons of parties, but the joy of it never really wore off. The energy, the dancing, the drinks, the new people, and most importantly? Getting to do whatever the hell he wanted.

The pumping music and the flashing lights of the club greeted him as he threw open the doors. "Who's ready for an Asmo party?! Your Avatar of Lust has arrived!" he cheered.

Everyone in the club went wild immediately, as they always did for these. A night of partying, hosted by the Avatar of Lust, filled with dancing and drinks, and inevitably ending in a wild orgy at some nearby hotel room with as many bodies as could be crammed in? The demons at the club always went wild for an event like that.

Cambores, his good friend, came up immediately to give him a kiss on the cheek and pass him a drink. "Asmo, baby, we've been waiting for you! There's a whole line of succubi who have been begging for a dance with you tonight!"

"Only a dance?" he giggled impishly, as he waved to the line his friend pointed out. "Well, they do have to take turns, since a beauty like mine has to be shared with everyone. But we'll have to see if any of them can tear themselves off of me after a dance!"

Wasting no time, he grabbed the hand of the first one and whirled her onto the floor. "Bothothêl, you're back for me again tonight," he teased. "Didn't get enough of me last night?"

"No, never, Lord Asmodeus," she responded, gazing adoringly into his eyes. She shimmied against him, pressing herself close against his body, and he responded in kind. "I want you every night if you'll allow it."

"Well, I'm flattered, my dear," he answered in a sultry whisper against her collarbone, "but I'm afraid you can't hog beauty like this. But maybe next time I eat you out, I'll eat your heart along with it so I can carry you with me, if you want to stay beside me so badly." He felt the lust emanating from her at that, and took the opportunity to give her a little nibble against her neck, before twirling her away to pull forth the next two succubi from the line at once.

By the tenth or eleventh song, he was about ready for another drink - and some actual action, rather than the intimate but very short flirts he was having with his dance partners. "Sarabocres, darling," he greeted the bartender cheerfully. "Can I get a Brimstone Kiss? And...a Death Tequila Sunset for this new friend of mine right here," he added, tugging over a random demon who had caught his eye from further down the bar.

"O-oh, um, Lord Asmodeus! T-thank you," the demon sputtered in surprise.

"You're welcome," he smiled sweetly back. "So you know my name, what's yours?"

"Kamusil, sir," she answered. Her eyes sparkled as she took him in, though she quickly scooted back and looked away. "Wow. You're even more beautiful than everyone says."

Smirking, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze back up to meet his. "Well, no one can accurately describe perfection, after all. But no need to be shy, cutie, you can drop the sir and all those formalities. Tell me, what kinds of secret desires are you hiding? If you could have, hmm...let's say, ten demons here in your bed tonight, who would they be?"

As if in a trance, any hesitation in her dropped away immediately. She pointed out various demons to him, some he recognized and some he didn't, all of them drop-dead gorgeous.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. He gave her a quick smooch, and whispered, "Okay, wait for me just a bit then, and don't you leave before me. Okaaay? We'll have a good time tonight, I promise."

With that, he downed his newly arrived drink and returned to join the throngs of dancers.

What a fun plaything she'd been, truly. Despite having been so shy, Kamusil had really had a knack for spying some of the wildest partners he'd been with in quite a while. He lay idly in the bed, tracing the sleeping form of one of the many sexed out demons beside him.

It would be an exaggeration to say they'd all explored pleasures together he'd never dreamed of - he was the Avatar of Lust, after all - but certainly there were some obscure things he got to try out that night. And there was always tomorrow, or the next night, or the next.

After all, there was nothing stopping him anymore. No shame, no modesty, none of the rules binding him. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

And he loved it.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #om! asmodeus #obey me asmo #om! asmo #happy birthday asmodeus #asmo angst #angel asmo #obey me fics #writings #mod chaos in the devildom

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

Text

YOUR MATING BOND IS SHOWING: Some underrated Nessian scenes pre-ACOFAS

alternatively titled: how did no one in the Inner Circle accidentally tell Nesta?

I didn't include the big moments (the Cauldron, the Bone Carver, Next Time, Emissary, I'll Come Say Hello, CASSIAN, and Hybern) because they are longer scenes, but these are some small and medium sized moments.

When Cassian can't stop staring at Human Nesta:

Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.

...

Nesta didn’t bat an eyelash as she studied the handsome features, the muscled torso. Then turned to me. Dismissing him entirely.

Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe … only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.

...

Rhys gave me a warning look. I gripped Nesta’s arm, drawing her attention to me. “Can we just … start over?”

I could almost taste her pride roiling in her veins, barking to not back down.

Cassian, damn him, gave her a taunting grin.

But Nesta merely hissed, “Fine.” And went back to eating.

Cassian watched every bite she took, every bob of her throat as she swallowed.

...

“That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“It is sometimes,” Azriel said. Cassian tore his relentless attention from Nesta long enough to nod his agreement.

When Nesta gives Cassian the finger:

He’d given Nesta a mocking bow, and she’d given him a vulgar gesture I hadn’t realized she knew how to make.

Cassian had merely laughed, his eyes snaking over Nesta’s ice-blue gown with a predatory intent that, given her hiss of rage, he knew would set her spitting. Then he was gone, leaving my sister on the broad doorstep, her brown-gold hair ruffled by the chill wind stirred by his mighty wings.

When Cassian comes back from Wings & Embers:

I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

When Cassian declares he'll defend the humans (ACOMAF version)

His voice was rough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.”

I watched a tear slide down Nesta’s cheek. And I watched as Cassian reached up a hand to wipe it away. She did not flinch from his touch.

When Feyre notices the mating bond:

When I looked ahead, I found Cassian staring back at Nesta as well.

I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister.

The sorrow. And the longing.

When Cassian tells Nesta exactly what is going to happen to Briallyn:

“You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.”

When Cassian speaks of his own intentions:

I blew out a breath. “Who else thinks it’s a terrible idea to leave the three of them up at the House of Wind?”

Cassian raised his hand as Rhys and Mor chuckled. The High Lord’s general said, “I give him an hour before he tries to see her.”

...

Cassian’s hazel eyes shuttered as he crossed a booted ankle over another, stretching his muscled legs before him. “I go up there every other day. It’s good exercise for my wings.” Those wings shifted in emphasis. Not a scratch marred them.

When Cassian wants revenge:

Mor’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was trying her best not to say anything. Azriel was trying his best to shoot a warning stare at Mor to remind her to indeed keep her mouth shut. As if they’d already discussed this. Many times.

“I don’t blame her,” Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. “She was—violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her.” His jaw clenched. Even Amren didn’t dare say anything. “And I am going to peel the King of Hybern’s skin off his bones the next time I see him.”

His Siphons flickered in answer.

Rhys said casually, “I’m sure the king will thoroughly enjoy the experience.”

Cassian glowered. “I mean it.”

When Cassian realizes how beautiful his mate is:

Yes, devastating was a good word for how lovely she’d become as High Fae. And in a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves before falling gracefully to the ground in a spill of fabric …

Cassian looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

When Cassian got out of an uncomfortable situation:

Mor blinked, but confided to me with a wince, “I think we’re going to need a lot more wine.”

Nesta’s spine stiffened. But she said nothing.

“I’ll raid the collection,” Cassian offered, disappearing through the inner hall doors too quickly to be casual.

Nesta stiffened a bit more.

When Nesta wants revenge

“Were they made immortal?” This question went to Azriel.

Azriel’s Siphons smoldered. “Reports have been murky and inconsistent. Some say yes, others say no.”

Nesta examined her wineglass.

Cassian braced his forearms on the table. “Why?”

Nesta’s eyes shot right to his face. She spoke quietly to me, to all of us, even as she held Cassian’s gaze as if he were the only one in the room. “By the end of this war, I want them dead. The king, the queens—all of them. Promise me you’ll kill them all, and I’ll help you patch up the wall. I’ll train with her”—a jerk of her chin to Amren—“I’ll go to the Hewn City or whatever it is … I’ll do it. But only if you promise me that.”

When Cassian is mad at Feyre and lies:

I studied him, the wings tucked in tight, the shoulder-length dark hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He stalked past me to the ring.

“Is it Nesta?”

“Not everything in my life is about your sister, you know.”

I kept my mouth shut on that front.

When Nesta shows up to training:

Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes.

I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there.

“Care to join?” Cassian purred.

Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.”

I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian.

Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?”

I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?”

...

Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

When Cassian has manners: (and realizes his mate may never fly)

Mercifully, or perhaps not, Nesta’s retching filled the silence. Cassian gaped at Rhys. “What did you do?”

“I asked him the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He said he ‘went fast.’ ”

Nesta vomited again—then silence.

Cassian sighed at the ceiling. “She’ll never fly again.”

The doorknob twisted, and we tried—or at least Cassian and I did—not to seem like we’d been listening to her. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale, but … Her eyes burned.

When Cassian helps her calm down:

There was no way of describing that burning—and even painting it might have failed.

Her eyes remained the same blue-gray as my own. And yet … Molten ore was all I could think of. Quicksilver set aflame.

She advanced a step toward us. All her attention fixed on Rhys.

Cassian casually stepped in her path, wings folded in tight. Feet braced apart on the carpet. A fighting stance—casual, but … his Siphons glimmered.

“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?”

Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.

He just went on, “It was Amren’s fault, of course, but no one believed me. And no one dared banish her.”

She blinked slowly.

But the burning, molten gaze became mortal. Or as mortal as one of us could be.

When he calls her "Nes" for the first time:

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. “Morning, Nesta,” he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. “Elain.”

---

Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that.”

The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

When she flies with him for the first time:

My sister’s face was wind-flushed as Cassian gently set her down. Then she strode for the glass doors without a single look back.

“You’re welcome,” Cassian called after her, more than a bite to his voice. His hands clenched and slackened at his sides—as if he were trying to loosen the feel of her from his palms.

When he rescues her and can't hide his disappointment the she didn't hug him:

He said nothing as Nesta launched herself toward him, her dress filthy and disheveled, her arms stretching for him. He opened his own for her, unable to stop his approach, his reaching— She gripped his leathers instead.

...

Cassian only stretched out an arm for her. As if in a trance, she walked right to his side. His arms tightened around both of us, Siphons flaring, gilding the darkness with bloodred light.

When Nesta is recovering from the library attack and he's an attentive mate:

Nesta looked like she was going to be sick. Cassian wordlessly refilled her glass.

When he's protective and we find out about their height difference

Cassian was staring at Nesta—hard enough that my sister at last twisted toward him. Met his gaze. His head tilted—slightly. A silent order.

Nesta, to my shock, obeyed. Drifted over to Cassian’s side as Amren replied to Rhys, “No.”

...

Cassian casually slid Nesta behind him, his fingers snagging in the skirts of her black gown. As if to reassure himself that she wasn’t in Amren’s direct path. Nesta only rose onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

When Cassian still isn't back from Adriata:

Nesta was waiting at the breakfast table the next morning. Not for me, I realized as her gaze slipped over me as if I were no more than a servant. But for someone else. I kept my mouth shut, not bothering to tell her Cassian was still up at the war-camps. If she wouldn’t ask … I wasn’t getting in the middle of it.

When Cassian is proud of Nesta:

“I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but … avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means … telling them what happened.”

When Nesta defends Cassian for the first time:

Beron only sneered. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.”

...

“That bastard,” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.”

She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it. But he stared at her—as if he’d never seen her before.

When Feyre dismissed Nesta but Cassian doesn't:

The door opened, and Cassian stalked in, face grave. The sight of the wings, the Illyrian armor in this opulent, pink-filled room planted itself in my mind, the painting already taking form, as he said, “What’s wrong.”

He studied every inch of her. As if there were nothing and no one else here, anywhere.

But I said, “She senses something is off—says we need to leave right away.”

I waited for the dismissal, but Cassian angled his head. “What, precisely, feels wrong?”

When the Cauldron made Nesta barf and Cassian is an attentive mate

“What’s wrong?” Mor demanded, holding my sister upright as her face contorted in what looked to be—pain. Confusion and pain.

Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face. Cassian was instantly there, his hand at her back, teeth bared at the invisible threat.

“Nesta,” I said, reaching for her.

Nesta seized—then twisted past Cassian to empty her stomach into the reflection pool.

When he touches her forehead:

Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.”

He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though.

Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard—mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place.

When Nesta watches Cassian in Battle:

Only Nesta strode toward the edge of the tents to watch the battle on the valley floor below. Mor joined her, then me.

Nesta did not flinch at the clash and din of battle. She only stared toward one black-armored figure, leading the lines, his occasional order to push or to hold that flank barking across the battle

...

Cassian was trying. Azriel had lunged into the fray, nothing more than shadows edged in blue light, battling his way toward where Cassian fought, utterly surrounded.

“Mother above,” Nesta said softly. Not in awe. No—no, that was dread in her voice.

...

By the time I strode away, Nesta had already faced the battle once more, rain plastering her hair to her head. Resuming her unending vigil of the general battling on the valley floor below.

When she wraps up his wrist (and when he's an idiot and focuses on Mor)

But Nesta had jolted to her feet, staring at Cassian....But she surveyed his seven Siphons, the dim red stones. And then she said, “You’re hurt.”

Cassian’s face was grim—his eyes glassy. “It’s fine.” Even the words were laced with exhaustion.

But she reached for his arm—his shield arm.

Cassian seemed to hesitate, but offered it to her, tapping the Siphon atop his palm. The armor slid back a fraction over his forearm, revealing—

“You know better than to walk around with an injury,” Rhys said a bit tensely.

“I was busy,” Cassian said, not taking his focus off Nesta as she studied the swollen wrist. How she’d detected it through the armor … She must have read it in his eyes, his stance.

I hadn’t realized she’d been observing the Illyrian general enough to notice his tells.

“And it’ll be fixed by morning,” Cassian added, daring Rhys to say otherwise.

But Nesta’s pale fingers gently probed his golden-brown skin, and he hissed through his teeth.

“How do I fix it?” she asked ...

Cassian slowly sat on the log where she’d been perched a moment before, groaning softly—as if even that movement taxed him. “Icing it usually helps, but wrapping it will just lock it in place long enough for the sprain to repair itself—”

She reached for the basket of bandages she’d been preparing, then for the pitcher at her feet.

I was too tired to do anything other than watch as she washed his wrist, his hand, her own fingers gentle... Cassian seemed too weary to speak as well while she wrapped bandages around his wrist, only grunting to confirm if it was too tight or too loose, if it helped at all. But he watched her—didn’t take his eyes off her face, the brows bunched and lips pursed in concentration.

And when she’d tied it neatly, his wrist wrapped in white, when Nesta made to pull back, Cassian gripped her fingers in his good hand. She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

Nesta did not yank her hand away. Did not open her mouth for some barbed retort.

She only stared and stared at him, at the breadth of his shoulders, even more powerful in that beautiful black armor, at the strong column of his tan neck above it, his wings. And then at his hazel eyes, still riveted to her face.

Cassian brushed a thumb down the back of her hand. Nesta opened her mouth at last, and I braced myself—

“You’re hurt?”

At the sound of Mor’s voice, Cassian snatched his hand back and pivoted toward Mor with a lazy smile. “Nothing for you to cry over, don’t worry.”

Nesta dragged her stare from his face—down to her now-empty hand, her fingers still curled as if his palm lay there. Cassian didn’t look at Nesta as she rose, snatching up the pitcher, and muttered something about getting more water from inside the tent.

Cassian and Mor fell into their banter, laughing and taunting each other about the battle and the ones ahead.

Nesta didn’t come back out again for some time.

When Cassian almost dies, and she's worried sick, and then she looks him over to make sure he's okay:

Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced—

“He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly.

Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit.

...

Still coated in mud up to her shins, my sister paused on the other side—away from where Cassian now sat. Looked him over. Her face revealed nothing, yet her hands … I could have sworn a faint tremor rippled through her fingers before she balled them into fists and faced Amren. Cassian watched her for a moment longer before turning his head toward Amren as well.

...

Your sister came immediately when I explained what we needed, Rhys said. I think seeing Cassian hurt convinced her not to pick a fight today.

Or convinced my sister to pick a fight with someone else entirely.

When Nesta Scries: No harm no harm no harm

Nesta still didn’t move. She could not use the bathtub, she’d told me. Because the memories it dragged up—

Cassian said to her, “Nothing can harm you here.” He sucked in a breath, groaning softly, and rose to his feet. Azriel tried to stop him, but Cassian brushed him off and strode for my sister’s side. He braced a hand on the desk when he at last stopped. “Nothing can harm you,” he repeated.

Nesta was still looking at him when she finally shut her eyes. I shifted, and the angle allowed me to see what I hadn’t detected before.

Nesta stood before the map, a fist of bones and stones clenched over it. Cassian remained at her side—his other hand on her lower back.

...

With a gasp, Nesta’s fingers splayed wide, scattering stones and bones over the map. Cassian caught her with an arm around the waist as she swayed. He hissed in pain at the movement. “What the hell—”

When Cassian makes an offer most women would not refuse:

“Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape.

Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply.

When Elain is taken:

“We’ll get her back,” Cassian rasped from where he perched on the rolled arm of the chaise longue across the small sitting area, watching her carefully...

Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

When Cassian declares he'll defend the humans, pt. 2 (ACOWAR)

“Good,” Cassian said, glancing at Nesta. “If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.

When Cassian was going to say something before the last battle:

Rhys only asked, “How long do you think we have?”

Cassian clenched his jaw, glancing at my sisters. Nesta was watching him keenly; Elain monitored the army from our minor elevation, face white with dread....

Cassian took a step away, but looked back at Nesta. Her face was hard as granite. He opened his mouth, but seemed to decide against whatever he was about to say. My sister said nothing as Cassian shot into the sky with a powerful thrust of his wings. Yet she tracked his flight until he was hardly more than a dark speck.

When they decide to lure away Hybern:

Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.”

I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.”

...

“He will kill you,” Cassian snarled.

Her hand clenched on his arm. “That’s—that’s where you come in.”

To guard her. Protect her. To lay a trap for the king.

...

Cassian said steadily, “It’s the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that Cauldron.” His hands tightened on Nesta.

...

But Cassian asked Nesta, “Do you have what you need?”

Nesta nodded. “Amren showed me enough. What to do to rally the power to me.”

And if Amren and I could control the Cauldron between us … That distraction they’d offer …

Nesta looked down to Elain—our sister monitoring the bloodbath ahead. Then to me. She said quietly, “Tell Father—thank you.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.

#ACOWAR was FULL of ACOSF crumbs #nesta and cassian examining eachother for injuries is huge #how did the busybodies not say anything about them being mates for TWO YEARS #I love these two #Nessian #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #kp analysis #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar series #mtp

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cheri-translates · 3 years

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[CN] Shaw’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Knowledge of Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S is highly recommended before reading this!

[ This R&S was released on 16 June 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

This is the fifth month that Shaw is learning how to skateboard. The little buddies who started out with him had given up one after the other because they couldn’t endure the bitter taste of tripping and falling. In the end, he’s the only one left.

The wheels grate against the ground in a regular rhythm. Leaping over the obstacle, it makes a swerve, accelerates, and flips... the skateboard is lithe and graceful beneath Shaw’s feet, akin to a reed leaf as it brings him into the largest skatepark in Loveland City with a wilful rush.

“Shaw! Shaw!”

Shaw halts the skateboard and turns around.

A little fatty with a band-aid on his knee walks over, smiling and revealing his missing front teeth. “Finally found you.”

Shaw laughs scornfully. “Why’s a defeated opponent looking for me? Do you want to lose the remaining half of your front teeth?”

“You!” Little Fatty flushes red in an instant. He straightens his neck and points to an area behind him. “I’m not competing with you. Someone else wants to!”

Shaw looks in the direction of his finger. A boy who is obviously taller than him by a head smiles at him, the skateboard beneath his feet sliding back and forth. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s experienced.

“My Bro Zhou is in the Loveland City Qing Xun Team,” Little Fatty hugs his arms with pride, as though he’s the one in the team. “So? Dare to accept it?”

So that’s how it is. He’s a scaredy cat who only dares to call in reinforcements.

Shaw purses his lips. He steps on the tail of the skateboard, and it responds by flipping upwards, the the edge of the board landing steadily in his palm. “Why not? What are we competing in?”

Bro Zhou shrugs. “I won’t make things hard for newbies. We’ll compete in tic-tacs and going over obstacles. How’s that?”

“Sure.”

[Trivia] Tic-tacs are a series of consecutive heelside-to-toeside kickturns where your feet remain on the skateboard. I copied this from Google and have no idea what it means LOL

THUD-

Losing his balance for just a moment, Shaw falls heavily onto the ground. His knees, elbows... waves of pain bloom on every joint. It isn’t a good feeling, but what makes Shaw even more frustrated is the arrogant laughter of Little Fatty. t’s even noisier than the cicadas from afar.

“HAHAHAHA Shaw lost! Let’s see if you still have the guts to be proud!”

He has a lot to say despite being a noob. Shaw rolls his eyes. Enduring the pain, he’s just about to lift himself up by the elbows when Bro Zhou walks over to him, offering him a hand. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

The other party continues. “But at your age, it’s best to stick to the basics. There’s no hurry to learn high difficulty moves like the dolphin flip. You’ll definitely fall.”

Shaw’s expression immediately turns cold. “I don’t need your pointers on what I can learn at whatever age.” He doesn’t touch the hand, standing up by himself. Lifting his head, he gives the other party a look over. “Do you come here often?”

“The Qing Xun Team practises here every day.”

“Okay. Next time, I’ll definitely win against you.”

Shaw doesn’t bother about the expressions on Bro Zhou’s and the Little Fatty’s faces after hearing his words. He casually pats off the dust on his body, picks up the skateboard which is flipped over on the floor, and leaves the skatepark.

[ Chapter Two ]

The moment Shaw enters through the doors of the antique store, the Old Man’s uproar begins. “Little Ancestor, did you wreck havoc in the Heavenly Palace again?”

[Note] Here, the Old Man calls Shaw “小祖宗”, which literally means “Little Ancestor”. This term is used in an affectionate way to address a naughty child

“Wrecking havoc in the Heavenly Palace” is a reference to a novel called Journey to the West (西游记), which features a troublemaking Monkey King Sun Wukong

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat today?” Shaw doesn’t respond to the shopkeeper’s words. Placing his bag and skateboard behind the counter, he reaches out to play with the silly parrot at the entrance - it’s truly silly. Even after teaching it for a month, it can’t even say “welcome to the shop”. It causes Shaw to wonder if the Old Man was perhaps duped of his money once again.

“All you know how to do is eat...” The Old Man sets down the ancient text in his hands and props up his presbyopic glasses. “Old Qian from next door boiled chicken soup today and is giving us half. I’ll stir-fry two dishes. You can ask if the chicken soup is ready.”

Shaw makes an “mm” of acknowledgement, then turns around and heads next door.

The shopkeeper gets up and takes a few steps towards the kitchen. Then, he abruptly returns to the counter, reaching out to touch the coarse scratch marks at the edge of the skateboard. Inexplicably, he sighs.

The chicken soup is a little bland, and the stir-fried dishes are a little salty. Mixing and eating them together is just nice. Shaw lowers his head and pushes rice into his mouth with chopsticks. In his left ear, he hears the news of how the GDP of Loveland City has risen. In his right ear, he hears the nagging of his mentor:

“...I’m not discouraging you from playing with this thing. It’s good to toughen yourself up while you’re young and your bones and muscles are sturdy. But don’t be too rash. This... this thing of yours...”

“Skateboard.” Shaw speaks.

“Yes, skateboard. I remember that it’s only been a month since it was bought, and it’s already tormented to such a state. You have such an impulsive temperament. You should be more level-headed.”

What does this have to do with temperament? If I were to truly be impulsive, I wouldn’t need a month. Just three days would be enough to break a skateboard. Shaw looks at the chicken leg in his bowl, not saying these words aloud.

“Also, remember to report to the shop early tomorrow. Old Qian and I are preparing to head to the neighbouring city to look for goods. You should come along to broaden your horizons.” The shopkeeper taps his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl, signalling for Shaw to pay more attention. “Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? I could pick out a gift for you! Sigh, I actually had my eye on an agate snuff bottle, but the guy suddenly decided not to sell it...”

“I’m not going tomorrow.” Shaw interrupts the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper furrows his brows. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not. I have proper business to attend to tomorrow. The school organised a visit to the museum.” Shaw lifts his eyes, and his thin lips curve upwards. “The things I see there will be much more valuable than those trivial things you fiddle with.”

“You little rascal!”

Shaw laughs, wedging the chicken leg between his chopsticks and sending it into his mentor’s bowl. “I’m full, so I’m heading to the back to do my homework. Chicken legs are really nutritious, so you should have it.”

“Tsk tsk, and you still said you weren’t throwing a tantrum. You aren’t going home again?”

“I don’t want to go back today. I’ll definitely go back tomorrow.” Shaw has already walked to the entrance. He suddenly thinks of something, and turns his head to ask a question. “Mentor, your shop will always be open, right?”

These words came out of nowhere, and the shopkeeper isn’t able to comprehend them. “What?”

“Nothing much. I’m just worried that I won’t have a place to have dinner if an old man like you were to throw in the towel someday.”

The shopkeeper fumes with a glare. “What do you mean by that? You only care about the food? Also, my shop can continue running for a decade or two. I’m still waiting for you to bring back a disciple or a wife to serve me tea!”

Shaw lets out an “oh”, and his eyes crinkle. “In that case, you’ll have to wait for another twenty or thirty years.”

The eyesight of the shopkeeper is no longer as good as before, but he can clearly see that the smile of this child didn’t reach his eyes. After Shaw leaves, he suddenly recalls the fortune that he drew for Shaw half a year ago: “What awaits this catastrophe is a new beginning...”

This child is will meet his predestined fate this year, so what’s left is to see how he endures through it. The shopkeeper shakes his head, sighing once again.

[Note] The actual fortune is “河图数九，洛书数七，脐于九陵，七日来复” but I don’t have the energy to explain it so what I’ve translated above is the overall meaning :>

[ Chapter Three ]

When Shaw awakens on the next day, the shopkeeper has already left to inspect the goods. The shop is empty, and he’s the only one left.

Westmoon Street is lined with old houses, and there’s no soundproofing. Lying on the bed, Shaw can hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the yelling of people on the street, and the babble of the Chinese opera from the old bookstore next door: “I’m just like a caged bird with wings that can’t be outstretched. I’m just like a shallow water dragon trapped on a beach...”

Shaw rubs his face, then sits up on the bed.

The school had set the assembling time to be 9am. Heading out now will give him more than enough time. Shaw quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth. Just as he walks towards the front counter with some rice grains from the kitchen for the parrot to eat, he suddenly discovers that there’s something on the counter.

Walking over, Shaw sees that there’s a cake box as well as a t-shirt which has been washed clean.

There’s a slip of paper on the shirt. The strokes are clean and thin. At a glance, he knows that this is the Old Man’s handwriting: You need energy and drive to participate in the school activity. Don’t wear yesterday’s dirty clothes. Change into this.

The shirt look slightly familiar. He probably changed out of it one day and forgot about it, leaving it in the antique shop. Shaw pays it no mind, turning his head to that small cake once again. The various calligraphy and writings in the antique store are considered relatively charming. Yet, why does he always buy such unsophisticated cakes?

When his classmates celebrate their birthdays, what they eat are high quality custom-made cakes - red velvet, matcha crepe, chocolate molten lava... such a traditional longevity cake is probably found only in a place like Westmoon Street. It’s clear from the light red and light green colours that the embellishments on the cake were made by hand. Eating it would definitely dye his tongue. If he were to speak later, wouldn’t he get laughed at by his classmates?

Shaw bunches up his brows, but the fork in his hand doesn’t stop. The cream is plant-based and tastes bad. He eats a small egg shell at the base of the cake and it tastes bad. The “Happy Birthday” was written using peach jam, and it tastes really bad.

The silly parrot at the side tilts its head, watching as the boy eats mouthfuls while shunning it with every bite, finishing the cake entirely.

Shaw wipes his mouth, then rinses it with the barley tea on the table. Picking up that t-shirt, he returns into the house and changes his clothes.

[ Chapter Four ]

“...this ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ depicts four famous scholars enjoying themselves. Students, do you know who the Seven Sages of the bamboo forest are?”

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “高逸图” (“gao yi tu”)

“It’s such a waste that you didn’t watch yesterday’s episode. That scene where the main lead destroyed the opponent like a boss is unparalleled!”

“Aside from the both of us, did anyone else have fun at Anime City?”

“Are you done with the math homework? Lend it to me - I’ll find a place to copy it.”

...

The question posed by the museum guide is drowned out amidst the laughing and frolicking of the kids. He forces a smile while shaking his head. All of a sudden, he notices that a boy with bluish purple hair isn’t the same as the other kids. He’s staring at an ancient painting in the showcase, lost in thought.

As though seeing a saviour, the guide quickly points at him. “Student, why don’t you give me an answer? It’s fine even if you get it wrong. Uncle will explain to you!”

“...” Shaw turns his head, opening his mouth to say some words, but his voice doesn’t reach the guide’s ears.

“Student, what did you say?” The guide raises his volume.

“I said that the four people in ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ are Shan Tao, Wang Jie, Liu Ling and Ruan Ji.” Shaw’s face is pretty much expressionless, and there aren't many fluctuations in his tone. “The one sitting down with his hands on his knees at the far right is Shan Tao. The one holding the ruyi sceptre is Wang Tao. The one next to him and drinking wine is Liu Ling. A boy is serving him. The one at the far left needs no mention - he’s the first of the Sages, Ruan Ji. So this painting is missing Ji Tang, Xiang Xiu and Ruan Xian.”

“...”

The surroundings gradually quieten down, and only Shaw’s voice echoes in front of the showcase.

"The scholars in this painting evoke a refined and tasteful sentiment, and the lines are beautiful. This is an extremely precious treasure in the realm of silk scrolls. This is why the ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ has always been kept in the royal palace. It’s a pity that in order for our predecessors to avoid taboos, only Si Ma Zhong’s inscription is left on it.”

The youth lifts his chin, shooting a playful smile at the guide. “Okay Uncle, you can explain the next museum piece now.”

“Shaw, you’re incredible!” His classmates flock over to him, bumping him on the shoulders. “You were staring at that painting for such a long time. Did you memorise the words on the museum label?”

“Tch. These’s no need to memorise the museum labels for such things. You’ll know it from a glance.” Shaw laughs. “Also, I wasn’t looking at this painting...” When he says this, he pauses for a moment, swallowing his words.

If he wasn’t looking at this painting, which one was he looking at? The students follow Shaw’s gaze, and realise that there’s a floral painting hanging next to the “Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent”.

“Painting of a Courtyard and Dayliles”, Northern Song Dynasty, Xuan He Imperial Art Academy, anonymous... The students read the explanatory note on the museum label.

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “霜庭萱草图” (“shuang ting xuan cao tu”)

The painting seems to depict a corner of a courtyard. A few daylilies display the patterns on their leaves. One big and one small dragonfly are perched on the flower. Aside from that, there isn’t anything else interesting about it. This painting doesn’t seem to have a name or seal, neither does it have a detailed explanation. Even the guide skipped past it. Since it isn’t a rare and precious ancient painting, what exactly was Shaw looking at?

His classmates are a little puzzled.

[ Chapter Five ]

All the classes assemble in lines at the entrance of the museum. The teacher very patiently reminds the students not to forget to do their homework over the weekend, and to remember to write down their reflections about the museum. The students drawl out “got it”, but their hearts have long since flown a million miles away, ready to keep toys and snacks company.

“Shaw!” After dispersing, Shaw’s classmates wave at him.

Shaw walks over. “What’s up?”

“All of us know that you aren’t in a good mood because you lost to a senior in skateboarding yesterday. Isn’t it your birthday? Bro Lu bought the newest game, so let’s head over to play at his place.” His classmate smiles while putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Who told you that I lost yesterday?” Shaw speaks coldly.

“Who else but Fatty? He was so proud yesterday.” The classmate gives Shaw a pat. “Relax, we’re on your side. Don’t think about these unhappy things. Next time, we’ll have lots of opportunities to get revenge...”

“If I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t wait till next time.” Shaw purses his lips. “I’m heading to the skatepark now. You guys coming?”

Since it’s the weekend, quite a number of skateboard hobbyists are already practising by the time Shaw reaches the skatepark. Very quickly, he locates Bro Zhou from yesterday.

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I lost yesterday. Today, I want to have a race with you. Do you accept?”

A hint of shock is in Bro Zhou’s eyes. He has probably never met a kid who is this unwilling to lose. “You fell so badly yesterday but still want to compete with me? You should practise more!”

“There’s no need to practise more when competing with you,” Shaw says.

With this, Bro Zhou’s temper starts to flare. He tilts his chin. “Fine, come on. Just don’t cry if you fall and break your arm today.”

A short while later, the news of how a “junior high school newbie dared to challenge Bro Zhou from the Qing Xun Team” spreads throughout the skatepark. Everyone gathers at both sides of the race course, curiously sizing up the main lead for today.

“S-Shaw...” His classmate pulls on Shaw’s arm. Looking at the deep bowl in front, he gulps. “Are you sure you’re competing with him in this? It won’t be good news if you fall!”

“If I want to play, of course I’ll only play the fun stuff. Just watch.”

Shaw walks to the starting line and takes a deep breath. When moving his limbs, his hand subconsciously touches the hem of the t-shirt - there’s a small Chinese trumpet vine. The green leaves and red petals cover the hole which was originally on the shirt. It’s just that the stitches are crooked, and it’s incredibly crude. At a glance, it’s clear that it wasn’t sewn by someone familiar with needlework.

[Fun fact] Chinese trumpet vine is 凌霄花 (“ling xiao hua”)

Shaw’s name in CN is 凌肖 (“ling xiao”)

Mentor is the best <3

He bites his lower lip.

The referee raises both hands. “The old rules apply. After getting past the Cola can obstacles, cross the bowl. The first person who reaches the goal will win. Ready... go!”

In the midst of a clamour, a bluish purple light rushes forward, taking the lead.

[ Chapter Six ]

The friction of wheels against the ground results in ear-piercing screeches. The skateboard brings Shaw forward at a high speed, and the cold strong wind accompanies the summer heat waves, brushing past his cheeks. The upright Cola cans aren’t enough to faze him. With the continuous twisting of his waist and a skateboard which moves naturally like flowing water, he and his opponent seem to bypass the obstacles comprising of twelve Cola cans at the same time-

There are three consecutive rows of Cola can structures in front of him. He has to use all sorts of techniques to jump over them. That way, he can rush down the bowl, and enter the final stage.

The arm he injured from the fall yesterday is still aching faintly. His feet seem to be protesting as well. He successfully jumps over the first row, the second row... Shaw holds his breath. He steps on the tail of the skateboard with his left foot. Gravity takes over quickly, and his right foot causes the skateboard to rise. The skateboard beneath his feet is akin to a flying fish jumping out of the water surface, creating a rotating arc above the Cola cans!

“It’s a dolphin flip!” Members of the audience exclaim.

Clack! Shaw’s shoulders wobble slightly when his feet return to the skateboard. When he finally stands steadily, he continues rushing forward. The final bowl is right in front of him.

The moment the skateboard dives downwards, Shaw feels a brief moment of weightlessness. This feeling is reminiscent of being thrown out of the entire world, making one want to continue falling like this until they plummet into the bottom of the swamp. The deep bowl is like the trough he’s currently going through. If he’s unable to climb out of the trough, he will drown in hatred, anger, powerlessness, disappointment... and lose to that weak heart of his.

But he’s Shaw, and he won’t lose just like that.

With a rapid dash, he soars upwards without trouble - underneath the brilliant blazing sun, the youth leaps out of the bowl!

After flying out of the bowl, the inertia causes Shaw to stumble a few steps. He falls onto the ground, lying on his back while pressing the finish line.

At the same time, he hears a dull thud from the bowl - his opponent had fallen back into it.

“Shaw won!” “Shaw reached the goal first!” “That rascal actually won against Bro Zhou?” “This competition was so awesome!” ...all sorts of voices emerge in the surroundings in a disorderly fashion, and a set of footsteps walk towards him.

“Your name’s Shaw?” A masculine voice asks from above his head.

Shaw doesn't speak.

“I’m Coach Wang from Loveland City’s Qing Xun Skateboarding Team,” that voice continues. “I see that you have lots of talent, and will make a good young successor. Are you interested in joining the Qing Xun Team?”

While saying this, a registration form is handed to him.

The late afternoon sun illuminates the sheet of paper, reflecting a glaring light akin to snow. Shaw takes one look at the registration form, then shifts his lips slightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“My shirt’s really expensive, so it isn’t worth tearing them.”

The coach is rendered speechless.

Just as he’s about to say a few more words to persuade the kid, he suddenly spots the small flower at the corner of Shaw’s shirt from his periphery - this is clearly not an expensive t-shirt. These days, few shirts are mended using embroidery. And the fact that he’s willing to wear it despite the clumsy embroidery...

This kid has family members whom he cares very much about. The coach seems to understand this. His lips open and shut, and he swallows back the lines he prepared. In the end, he simply says, “...that dolphin flip you did earlier wasn’t bad.”

“Of course.”

The coach laughs as he leaves. Amidst the cheers from the surroundings, Shaw lies on the ground. Covering his eyes with his hand, he laughs.

“I won. Happy birthday to me.”

🛹 Shaw’s Date Prologue: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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paperandsong · 2 years

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They be like, "Ooh, let them eat cake" But we eat wings and throw them bones on the ground

Janelle Monae, Q.U.E.E.N.

Qu'ils mangent de la brioche...

That’s such nonsense. I would never say that.

Kirsten Dunst as Marie Antoinette, 2006

#marie antoinette #janelle monae #q.u.e.e.n.#kirsten dunst #let them eat cake #french revolution #qu'ils mangent de la brioche

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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The Servant and The Prince | Five

Wow wow wow this is late but I hope with it being late that I have had the extra time needed to make it good. Please do enjoy lovelies-- and expect big things for the next chapter!

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter five

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: anger, mention of bruises / abuse

Tags: angst, fluff

Word count: 6.6k (consider this my apology for the late chapter)

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Master List

“On the balcony,” Frigga calls back, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulders. “We have company!” She adds, seemingly as an after thought— she is too busy pouring wine from a glass feeder into a beautifully ornate cup.

At least, Y/n thinks it is wine. She can smell the fermented berries— sweet and tangy and warming her nose as all wines she has encountered before have— only this wine is a pale violet shade. It is not an opaque rouge, not a barely there chartreuse. Nothing like what she has ever been able to get her hands on by way of bartering or shared celebration. Weddings and births. She takes a seat in one of the golden chairs, trying not to think about how out of her element she truly is. The little details are starting to show though. Not just extravagant pools and marble hallways. Even the food here is luxurious.

The Queen presses the cup into her fingers. She is not expecting the weight of it— the way her hand drops a fraction before she thinks to tense her wrist— she has never held pure gold before, not this much of it all at once. “Drink, dear. It will return some of the color to your face.”

She nods at Frigga, hoping her small smile will convey her thanks in lieu of her absent tongue. Speechless does not even begin to cover the way she feels.

“She is right—” the smooth, deep voice interrupts, his words coated with mirth— “it is what I do.”

Heavy footsteps fall behind her, thundering through the quiet chamber. She hears the water in the pool slosh lightly, the rose oil swirling out to the balcony. It makes her feel woozy— like she is already intoxicated despite not having touched her wine.

“No what you do is something else entirely,” Frigga giggles, raising her own chalice to her lips.

That is what these are called, right? Cup seems like too plain a word for something as extravagant. Chalice is luxurious— foreign to her daily life which makes it perfect. She raises her chalice too, taking the first sip of her violet liquid. Her eyes blow wide as she does so, a tarte berry sweetness bursting across her tongue. She almost chokes from how rapidly it takes over her senses, almost painting her vision in a matching purple hue. The liquid is warm as it trickles down her throat and blossoms that same warmth through her chest. It is magnificent— it is new— it makes the racing thoughts in her head slow to a honey crawl. She has to force herself not to down the whole cup immediately, wanting nothing more than to make them stop completely.

“If you say so, mother.” His laugh is almost as booming as his footsteps— it is how she pictures a giant’s laugh would sound, all heavy and dense, weighing across her shoulders like a wet blanket. It is less uncomfortable than that though. It makes her smile. That could just be the wine though.

She takes another sip, as the man finally emerges from behind her, his large body stepping into the sunlight like he is stepping into a second skin. In that moment she is grateful for the warmth in her chest and the way the wine adds a layer of lead to her bones for without it she would surely topple out of her chair in fright. The wine is like a barrier, though, stopping her common sense from leaking through. It makes sense, now, why she had pictured a giant— he is one.

She has to crane her neck to meet his blue eyes. When she finally does she decides that they match his mother’s. So does his blonde hair but it is a little more honey, a little less golden. Just as soft looking. His skin is golden though. It looks like he spends every waking hour in sunlight— no, it looks like he is sunlight. If sunlight was a person it would be this man. His mouth cracks open in a wide grin, his ivory teeth sparkling, as though he can hear her thoughts and agrees.

Frigga rolls her crystal eyes, an action so out of place alongside her more gentle movements. “Do introduce yourself before our guest starts to believe that I have not taught you manners.”

“I was getting there,” the giant insists to his mother. He bends at the waist, reaching for her hand which he engulfs in his surprisingly soft hands. He brings her knuckles to his lips— which are also soft but less surprisingly so— kissing them gently. “I am Thor, Odin’s Son, welcome to my home.”

Again, if it were not for the wine she would surely topple out of her chair. “Thank you. I am Y/n.”

Her voice sounds so small compared to his. Meek. She feels like a mouse sitting next to a lion. Perhaps it does not help that he is standing but she doubts that him sitting down will do much to remedy the difference. Spare a growth potion there is nothing she can do to match his build.

“How fitting—” he takes a seat in the chair across from her, squeezing his mother’s shoulder as he does so. Frigga smiles at him, a glint in her eyes— “a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

Y/n’s cheeks fill with heat. Beautiful? Her? No certainly not. He must say that to all the women he meets. She steals another tiny glance at him while he speaks quietly with his mother. His skin looks even more golden in the light. His honey hair looks sweet enough to catch flies. Or women. Probably more so women. She drops her gaze back to the table, her fingers teasing the cool metal of her chalice. He definitely knows his way around the ladies. Still, she tucks the comment into the back of her mind for a later time. It is nice to be complimented, even if it is perhaps less than authentic.

Frigga turns away from her son, her eyes softening once more. “Tell me about yourself, my dear. Have you come all this way for the ball? That was quite a few bags you brought with you earlier.”

Much like her cheeks, her ears flood with heat as well. Unlike a moment ago, however, it is not the soft kind of embarrassment. Her blush is not a kind one. She would rather dig herself into the ground then explain that she is a servant. Her stomach fills with butterflies. Their wings beat with a vengeance, absorbing the heat of the berry wine like nectar— like fuel.

“Well, no, not exactly, your High—” She stops herself this time, taking a sip of the traitorous wine in an attempt to cull the fluttering in her chest. “Frigga. Those were not all mine. I do not think I will be attending the ball actually.”

She tries to say it casually— perhaps if she feigns indifference then it will sound as though it is her choice. Frigga narrows her brows, lifting a dark violet berry to her lips. Like a candle sparking into flame, it dawns on her what she has been consuming. Blackberries. Her eyes dart back down to the table. She tries not to let her jaw drop when she sees the magnificent spread of food that was not there only moments ago. Sliced meats and cheeses, fluffy white bread— all she has back home is the tough, grainy kind— and so many fruits she cannot even name them all. Most of all, though, there are heaps upon heaps of blackberries.

Frigga drags one of her delicate fingers across the corner of her lips where some of the dark juice has stained her otherwise immaculate skin. “Well certainly you must attend.”

Her ears burn hotter, her mouth filling once more with cotton. How is she supposed to explain to the Queen that she agrees but that she also cannot go.

“I agree,” Thor’s deep voice joins the conversation as he swallows a bite of that fluffy bread. “You must come! There will be dancing and food.” He throws a hand up when he mentions the food and she lets a small smile free wondering how much it takes to feed someone as massive as him. “I hear there will even be some suitable bachelors. I assure you— it will be a splendid evening, Milady.”

Her ears skip over the jest about the bachelors, hightailing right to his very last word. Milady. The butterflies consume the word faster than they do the wine. They are addicted to it. She thinks that she might be as well. It repeats in her head, bounding around in her mind, crashing into her skull. Milady, Milady, milady. She has never been called milady before. The more it echoes around her brain, the more disorientated it sounds. It blurs together, the vowels folding in on themselves. The butterflies do not seem to care though— they consume the fuel just the same. And the more they consume, the more she wants to throw them all up.

The line between Frigga’s brows deepens, her crystal eyes attentive. They seem to catch her every movement, down to the little shakes in her fingers as she closes them around her cup again. She does not take another sip— she is more than warm enough now— she just needs something to still her hands.

“Thor is right, dear. You would have a wonderful time.” She tilts her head, some of the crinkle returning to her eyes. “Besides, even if it is not for my sons you must go for me.”

Y/n nods— perhaps lying is the best course of action here. “For you, then.”

She pops a blackberry into her mouth for good measure.

Good measure or to keep from spilling the truth. Either way the berry is not as sweet as she would have thought it would be.

* * * * * * * * * *

The rest of the conversation passes easily after that, filled with Thor’s booming laughter and Frigga’s loving eye rolls. She does not speak that much, offering her input when asked directly or when goaded, but the royals do not seem to mind. It is a welcome reprieve from her usual days— the ones where she is yelled at for speaking and slapped for not speaking and insulted for everything else. Here she can laugh when she pleases, eat when she pleases, and exist how she pleases. She does quite a lot of the first two. The tangy berries grow on her. So does the wine. Honestly, the wine is probably the cause of her new fondness for the berries. It sweetens everything that touches her tongue. Before long her belly is full, her eyelids are heavy, and her tangy lips hurt from how much she has been smiling.

Thor takes his leave soon after the three of them finish eating, laying another of the knee weakening kisses to her knuckles and reminding her that he will be expecting to see her at the ball two nights hence. He also calls her Milady again, as though trying his hardest to slip it in there are many times as possible. Maybe he is trying to give her a heart attack. She would not mind that much if he was— she would not have to return to her tiresome, damaging life if she had a heart attack.

After Thor leaves, Y/n stands, her hands lingering on the solid golden chair, her chest getting increasingly heavier as the moments pass. “Thank you so much for your kindness, Frigga. This afternoon was wonderful.”

The blonde woman smiles, standing as well and stretching her arms gracefully over her head. “Oh, it was nothing. Are you leaving so soon, my dear?”

“I must,” Y/n tries to replicate the Queen’s smile despite the weight on her shoulders. “I have already taken too much of your time. You must be a very busy woman.”

Frigga laughs. “I am only busy when I want the Kingdom to run smoothly.” Her eyes flit to the waning sun, shaking her head slightly. Y/n wonders if she is supposed to see the small action. It seems personal. “I fear that unfortunately means you are correct.”

She nods, pulling away from the chair. “Then I will leave you to the Kingdom— it is certainly more important than I.”

Her words are airy, the smile on her face glued in place by sheer will. She likes the Queen so she will hold her carefree exterior to keep her from worrying. She does not need to ask to know that the Queen would worry— she is a mother. Her own mother would worry as well and she would feign the same calm to keep her from worrying the same way she is now. No matter how calm she looks on the outside, though, her stomach topples, like the churning waves she had passed earlier. The bile that she swallows is foamy. Salty.

She could cry.

Before she can, though, the Queen’s warm fingers curl around her icy wrist, the contrast making a shiver crest down her spine. How long has she been cold for?

“Dear you mustn’t leave until you try the pool. Really, I implore you, you will love it. I really must go but I will tell my maids to ensure that no one comes in here to disturb you. Only if you would like, of course?”

It feels like a dream, or maybe an extension of the dream she is currently in, but for a moment her leaden lungs expand enough to drag in a healthy amount of air. It is like a light in the darkness— another log to ensure the fire keeps burning for a little bit longer— and she is not about to let it pass her by. What is a few more hours anyway— she is already going to be crawling away from the next meeting with her step mother.

She hopes the relief is not too distinguishable in her voice and eyes when she answers. “Are you sure, Frigga? I would not want to impose on your hospitality.”

Frigga does not answer— not at first. Not before her slender arms wrap around Y/n and she pulls her into her flowery chest. For a moment she is frozen, her arms hanging limp at her sides. She does not even breath— she does not know if she can. The warmth that seeps into her skin is both painfully familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It makes her ten again. She is no longer standing in the Queen of Asgard’s chambers but in her little wooden house.

And she is not alone.

“My little dove come here will you?” Her mother calls to her from the kitchen. Perhaps she needs help icing the little cakes. Y/n hopes so— licking the icing spoon afterwards is her favourite thing.

She hurries into the warm room, the smell of cooked strawberries and sweet icing sugar wrapping around her bare arms. She had been fishing with her father earlier in the day and her cardigan had become dirty so she had stripped and left it to hang on the line outside before coming in for the evening.

“Would you like to help me?” Her mother’s eyes sparkle like two diamonds, crinking at the corners as she holds a spoon out.

She takes the spoon eagerly, stepping up to the table where a dozen of her favourite little cakes are layed out. She closes her eyes, breathing in the sugar. It is perhaps her favourite smell in the world. Her favourite smell doing her favourite thing with her favourite person. Well, spare her father of course, but he does not much care for baking.

“Little dove you know how much I love you right?”

She sneaks a lick of the icing spoon, giggling when her mother tickles under her chin. “I know, mama.”

Her mother grabs another spoon and one of the little cakes, setting to work as well. “How much do I love you?”

“To Midgard and back!” Y/n giggles. She does not quite know what it means but her mother has been telling her that for as long as she can remember.

Her mother nods, some of the hair spilling out of the braids along the side of her head and curling across her brows. Her smile is so bright that Y/n wonders if they even need the gas lamp. Surely her mother could light up the room fine on her own.

“That’s right, to Midgard and back.” Her mother presses a kiss to her forehead. “And back and back and back!”

She lifts her head, blinking the fog from her vision and clearing away the memory. When her senses return to her she finds her arms wrapped around the Queen’s waist so tight it feels as though she might break the tiny woman. She lets go immediately, taking a few steps back, her eyes shooting wide. She can still feel the heavy warmth of her mother’s kitchen on her skin— still smell the cooked strawberries— and her chest jolts painfully. If only her ten year old self had known that would be one of the last moments her mother would truly be herself again then maybe she would have kissed her forehead too.

“I am sorry, Frigga. I think I am just tired from the journey here.” She sputters out. The words sound mushy and garbled, her throat closing around each syllable, trying to swallow them before they can push past her lips.

The tears she had wanted to let out before rise so quickly to her eyes that she does not know what to do but look at the stone under her feet and hope Frigga does not notice. It must be her lucky day because all the Queen does is place her hand on her shoulder. She does not try to seek out her eyes.

“There is nothing to be sorry for. My sons do not hug me nearly as much as they used to—” Y/n tries to keep her shoulders from shaking as Frigga’s voice washes over her, soft and gentle like her mother’s used to, watching as the stone becomes wet and darkens. “I think a bath would help you greatly— warm water always helps clear my mind. Maybe you will find something you are looking for in the process.”

Y/n nods, her chin dipping against her throat. The Queen squeezes her shoulder once, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She has to hold her breath to keep from sobbing. It fights against her lungs though and she is sure Frigga can feel the way her chest jerks, fighting her from the inside. Frigga sighs and she watches as her feet leave her line of sight, her heels clicking on the marble as she goes to leave. It is only when she hears the heavy wooden door thunk closed does she move, the scream ripping from her throat so loudly she does not doubt that the Queen— no, the whole castle— hears it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Loki looks everywhere. Everywhere. Every corridor, every entrance, every dining room. He knocks on every damn chamber door. He never knocks— he never has to— but this time he does. The amount of faces he encounters is endless, most of them women, all of them speechless. He is not surprised to see so many women— nor is he surprised when they scramble to put sentences together in his presence, stuttering through their answers. To be fair, he does not really ask them anything. He knocks on the doors, looks at the stunned faces, and then, after feeling none of the warmth he is looking for— none of the sparks— he nods at them and continues his search.

As his search deepens, the minutes dissolving quickly into hours, his chest begins to feel like it is caving in on itself. The cavern walls of his lungs shift closer and closer together, beared on by a sourceless weight. It is invisible and it is heavy and it makes his head sting. By the time he gets to the last door he is pretty sure his lungs are incapable of filling completely. He fights to draw in a breath but the pressure is so intense that he has to throw a hand against the stone wall to keep from sinking to his knees. He is drowning in oxygen and yet cannot seem to suck in a single drop.

By the time he reaches the final door his head is foggy and his chest is burning. The remaining air that he has managed to hold onto turns on him more with every step, forming a mutiny and staging a siege in his body. The air fights against his lungs, banging on his windpipe, demanding to be let free. In what manner it wants to escape, he does not know. Probably loudly. He has never wanted to scream more than he does in this very moment— to let every building tension in his body free until his throat is raw. He can practically taste the metal on his tongue. The anger.

The blood.

Loki swallows hard, the action more painful than he would have ever thought, and blinks a few times before raising a fist of steel to the final door and knocking twice. He steps back after he does, giving whoever is inside room to speak to him. He hears a commotion, the hushed and quick murmurs of people, and scurried footsteps. Barely a second passes before the heavy wood slides open and reveals two women.

One of them is a scrawny blonde. Her limbs and face are boney, her fingers long and slender. Her hair drapes down her back, tangling with the ribbons that are keeping her corset tied so tight he wonders if she— like he— is finding it hard to breathe. Obviously it would be for opposite reasons. She is clearly choosing to be breathless— not being crushed under the weight of being so close and yet so far from her soulmate. He narrows his eyes at the girl, lingering on the sharpness to her. There is not a single soft feature about her— he strongly doubts she is hiding a pair of magic thighs underneath her dress. Definitely not her.

The blonde cowers slightly, her eyes flashing with recognition as her thin shoulders drawing into a tight point as she bows her head. He sighs— he does not have time for this. He almost forgot about the ridiculous ball and the actual reason why there were so many young women in his castle right now. Some of them had not recognized him— he is not his brother, after all. Thor would have been recognized in a heartbeat. Him, though, not so much. As much as it would make his blood boil any other time, right now he dreads the thought of enduring the conversation to come. He does not care to speak to hundreds of women; he is too busy trying to locate one.

He cringes when another woman joins, this one older than the blonde, her hair a dulling shade of red and her eyes are lined with wrinkles. Her mother, he assumes. She, too, sinks into a curtsey, the heavy jewels on her throat clinking as she does so. He can hear the gears turning in her head— see the same recognition as her daughter mingled with something else— something vaguely sinister— and the weight on his chest presses harder into him. So does the anger.

Odin, he does not have time for this!

The older woman rises first, her smile slick with the same slyness that clouds her eyes. “Your highness! How gracious of you to greet us before the ball.”

The anger grows— hot, heavy, and blinding— and he has to squeeze his fists to keep from baring his teeth at the woman. It surprises him, his instant hatred for her. He is not someone who makes friends easily— a choice he makes happily— but he is also not someone who wishes to kill people within seconds of encountering them— especially not women. There is something about this woman though that makes his vision tint black at the edges.

“It is nothing, madame.” He nods, his tone an icy, flat bite.

Much to his disappointment, the woman does not flinch. Her daughter does, the blonde’s shoulders catching like they have been snagged from behind, her neck remaining dropped in a bow. At least one of them is smart. Her mother does not seem to agree, her red heel sliding across the marble to jolt into her ankle. Loki squeezes his fists. How much longer must this go on?

“Anna—” the dull redhead’s voice is pinched as though she is trying to conceal her frustration— “do you have anything to say to the Prince.”

The blonde flinches at the contact, her head drawing up, her eyes clouded over with panic. He does not know who she is more afraid of in that moment— him or her mother. His chest still does not warm for her though, fear or no fear.

“Thank you.” She chokes out and he nods again— he does not want to kill her the same way he does her mother but the lines are getting hazy from the lack of oxygen he is breathing.

“Thank you is right.” The redhead’s wicked smile widens and his vision flashes.

He takes another step back, biting his tongue. The mutiny continues to rage in his chest, climbing up his sternum, stabbing holes in his jaw. He cannot hold it back for much longer— he does not really want to. But he is a Prince and he must, if not for him than for his mother. An image of Frigga flashes through his mind and, moments later, a plan. With both in his mind he is able to suck in half a breath. It stuns the insurrection inside him for a moment and hardens his resolve— he has to get to her.

He straightens his shoulders, lifting his chin higher, revelling in the way the redhead finally shrinks away from him. “If you will kindly excuse me.”

Loki does not waste time waiting for their responses, he only spins on his heel and struts away. The walk to his mother’s chambers is quick. Usually he would linger, skimming his fingers over the marble banister and peering out towards the sea. He has spent many days locked in a staring contest with the waves. Usually he wins— they are always blinking their foamy eyes at him. Today he does not spare them a glance. They will be there tomorrow. She might not be.

He turns the corner quickly. Too quickly. He honestly is not aware of how fast he is moving until his body slams into something small but strong. He grunts, shuffling backwards until he glimpses at blonde hair and two familiar crystal eyes. He chooses to ignore the half-hearted fury in them, opting instead to grab his mother’s shoulders.

Frigga curls her hands over her son's arms, the fury melting to something more concerned. “Loki what on Asgard are you doing—”

“Mother, I need you to tell me where she is.” He pleads— breathes— not waiting for the end of her sentence to tilt into a question like he knows it will.

Her shoulders drop under her palms in a sigh that he senses coming. “I have already told you all that I can— all that I know. Even if I did know more you know that I could not tell you without putting you and her—” she pauses, raising a golden brow in what he assumes is an attempt to make him listen. It only serves to make his chest squeeze— “in danger.”

He squeezes his eyes closed, his eyelids crushing together the same way his teeth do as he grits his answer out. “I can protect us both, mother, I just need—”

The rest of his sentence is drowned by a scream that rips through every fibre in his being. For a moment it even feels as though it is coming from him, burning like bile up his throat and tearing like knives through his eardrums. It stings so much— how could it not be his scream? But then he closes his mouth, slamming his hands against his ears, and he can still hear the feral wails slicing at him through the barrier of his skin. He peels his eyes open, searching for the source of the noise but coming up empty— the only other person around remains his mother whose mouth— while drawn into a deep frown— is also closed.

“Faen!” He curses, not sure if it is as quiet as it seems to his own ears or if he just cannot hear his own voice over the violent screams. “Mother I— It hurts I—”

“Loki?” Frigga’s voice barely cuts through the howling but he can still decipher the worry in her tone.

For the second time in less than a week’s cycle, his knees touch the ground. It is a sight that has even his mother lost for words, her mouth falling open at her usually proud son forced into a bow. Loki never kneels. Now he has kneeled twice for a woman he has yet to even properly meet. Something familiar prickles against the back of his neck, right where the top of his spine meets his skull— right where the wails zero on him. Somewhere in the fever pitch he finds the very thing that has been haunting him for an entire sun cycle. Please Surtr. With the realization his own screams claw at his chest, begging to join in with their match.

It is her.

Loki rises, pushing off the marble floor and staggering forward. It is not an easy task, he feels like everything around him is fighting against his movements, pushing on his limbs until each step feels like he is fighting through waves. He is drowning but not in oxygen this time. He is a child again and the sea is crashing over him so violently that he is not sure if this time he will survive. He has never actually stopped to ask himself whether or not he can die this way— by drowning. He had always assumed the answer was no, he could not. But now he is not so sure. Now he feels like he might die on the precipice of everything important to him— quite literally on the threshold of the rest of his damn life.

The hell he will.

His hand curls around the iron handle, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he uses the last of his power to shove the heavy wood open. He can barely hear his mother’s protests— they are more a feeling if anything. Loki, that is not proper you cannot go in there. Does it look like he cares right now? He ignores her— there is nothing else he can do. The light from the room trickles over him, mingled with a heady, flowery aroma. He lets the door fall closed behind him. It is thick and warm, mingling with the heat rolling off his mother’s bathing pool and creating a fog that should make it hard to breathe.

Should.

The opposite is true though. The thick air is anything but hard to breathe. Rather he feels as though he is breathing for the first time all day. Like magic it works against the pressure on his chest, lulling the storm inside him. For a moment he cannot hear the wailing, the peace soaking into his skin enough to silence the agony. As soon as the calm comes, however, it is gone, torn away by the hiccups of a small form that is huddled against the jeweled tub. Loki’s heart stops— at least it feels like it does.

She lifts her eyes and— while half hidden by the fallen strands of her hair— he can still see the way they are banded in strands of silver that seem to go on forever. They draw him in, pulling him under the surf of her eyes but this time he is not drowning— he is floating. It is her. He is pretty sure he takes a step forward because she is now a few feet closer to him but if he does then he does not feel it. Floating. She freezes, her chest stilling, her rose petal lips peeling apart. No sound comes out. Gods how he wishes she would say something.

But then she sucks in a breath, her chest rising, and the veins under what he knows to be the softest skin in all of Asgard glow, illuminating a pattern of lightning strikes across her flesh. Just like that, he is officially a goner. Officially hers. He would do anything she asked of him. Anything to keep her. How the hell did he get so damn lucky? He cannot tear his eyes away from her, drinking in as much of her skin as possible. The sleeves of her dress hang off her shoulders, baring her flesh to him, and he can see from her hunched form that the first few buttons of her dress are open. She was undressing? Now he cannot breathe again.

He follows the pattern under her flesh intricately, taking another step, his whole body shuddering when she breathes in again and makes the scattered glow of her veins shift. The lighting strikes continue over her shoulders, mingling with the silky strands of her hair. He is suddenly envious of the strands— why does it get the privilege of touching this Valhalla made woman?

He traces her sparking veins over the crest of her shoulders and down her spine. He can feel her silver eyes on him, watching as his own eyes flick over her skin. It is exhilarating— it makes him feel alive. Was he even living before this moment? Walking and speaking and experiencing? Or is it only now that he realizes that was all a dream? Is this what it feels like to actually be alive? Odin, he was missing out.

His eyes crease over the arch of her back, drawn to the mountains and valleys of her spine. Her skin is like another world, one he would give anything to forage through— to explore for hours on end. For the rest of his life. There is not a doubt in his mind that he could be happy getting lost in her for the rest of eternity. His eyes skim the ridges of her shoulder blades, trying to decide where to even begin, and it is only then when he sees it— when his heart actually stops.

At first he does not know what he is seeing. Of course he has seen bruises before— he has fought alongside his brother as a warrior countless times. He has seen both his own skin and Thor’s turn violet and blue. This, though, is different. He has never seen anything close to the deep black bruises on her back. Her lightning veins are more muted underneath them, still crackling but instead of silver light they glow a sickening shade of scarlet. Where the lighting webs he can see her blood shifting, clinging to her injuries and flowing like lava— molten.

He can feel the heat from where her body is trying to mend itself back together. Any other time he would want to sink into it— feel her warmth against him and try to steal some of it for himself. Usually he feels so cold. Not right now. Right now all he feels is fire— fire from her lava, lightning skin, fire from the embers heating the pool next to him, fire from his own, burning anger— and he can feel the flames leaking into his eyes as he kneels for the third time.

Once he is on the floor as well her scent strengthens, wrapping around him and clinging to him. He does not know much about flowers but he can smell the Dhalia’s now, clear and sharp, just like in the castle gardens. He does not remember the castle gardens being this intoxicating though.

And nobody stomps on the Dhalia’s in the castle gardens the way someone clearly has with this one.

His chest squeezes, the flames flaring out again. Like the bruises, Loki has longed for vengeance before— many times, actually— but never like this. It has never consumed him so completely. He has never had to teeter between two impossible choices like this— impossible not because they are undoable but because he has to do both and he does not know which to do first. Engulf the shaking girl or seek out whoever thought it wise to mar her soft skin?

He meets her silver eyes, watching them crackle and flood with more tears. He has to swallow hard to stop his own, his throat burning too now. Being this close to her he can make out her features— the special curve to her nose and the dip of her cupid's bow and the little marks on her skin— everything that makes her special. He wishes more than anything in this moment that the circumstances were not as they are so that he could spend an hour memorizing every little detail.

Her hands twitch and his gaze darts to where they curl around her elbows. He wonders for a moment if they shake because of him. Gods, he hopes not. Being who he is— a prince and a feared warrior— he is used to people cowering away from him. He has grown to crave it— if they are going to keep doing it then why not embrace it? He likes when they fear him. With her, though, he wants anything but. It becomes clear which choice he has to make in that moment— and that there was never really a choice at all.

He flicks his eyes back to her, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to sink closer to her height, trying to make himself appear smaller. Before this moment he never thought himself large. He is taller than his mother, yes, but not by too much. He is nowhere near as big as Thor. Hell, even Heimdall is bigger than him. He has always been the sleek one— agile, fast, lean. He is made for stealth— not at all used to towering over another person. But here he is, all of a sudden feeling like he did when he was a kid hitting a growth spurt again, all awkward and lanky. He tucks his elbows into his sides, his chin to his chest, his vision filtered through his lashes due to the tricky bow he squishes himself into. It is not enough but it is a start.

For a moment they just stare at each other. Loki has no idea what to say to her. It is not like he has been thinking about it for an entire sun cycle or anything, mulling over everything he could possibly tell her. Anything he could say he has surely thought of— he has played through every rendition of every conversation. Thousands of words and thoughts and feelings, all of which have evaporated into the vacuum of his mind the moment he needs to use them. Again, some silver tongue he is.

Thankfully, though, he does not need to figure out what to say to his soulmate— she figures it out first.

“Are you real?”

___________

Tag List: @crystal-siren @cari1bunny @breethememe @tapismyforte @atashi-no-yuuki

#loki #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki fic #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #Loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson fic #The Servant and The Prince #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel fic #marvel cinematic universe fic

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rainbows-fanfics · 3 years

Text

Our Nightmare (Chapter 13)

Summary: Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends, where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

–

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

–

It is early in the morning when the crowing of a skeletal rooster makes it into Jack’s bedroom. The Pumpkin King throws his pillow over his skull in an attempt to deafen the noise. A few seconds pass before a bright light begins to seep into the room, as the pumpkin sun rises slowly in the sky outside. The skeleton groans when it hits his eye sockets. He mentally swears at himself for forgetting to close the curtains last night, and aggravatingly turns on his other side to avoid the window. His eyes snap open when he finds a face only a few inches away from his own.

Sally…

His frame freezes at the sight, finding himself in some sort of trance. His gaze is locked on her closed eyes, her slightly parted lips, and her breathing figure moving and falling by the second. It doesn’t take long before a smile grows on his stitched lips. He remembers all about last night. His proposal to move his girlfriend into his room...rightfully sharing a bed together as soon as they could. He remembers sleeping so peacefully throughout the night. He carefully brings a hand forward and moves the fallen strands of hair from her face. This notion catches her attention and her eyes slowly flutter open.

“Good morning, my dear.” He greets softly, cradling her face in one of his large hands. She looks surprised before relaxing her shoulders.

“Good morning…”

The air around them is entirely peaceful. She recalls feeling like this on her first morning in the Skellington Manor. Except now she has the pleasure of waking up right next to her skeleton man. He leans towards her and leaves a kiss on her lips, brushing her hair to the side before sitting up in bed. She follows his movements and lets out a small yawn. He notices this and tilts his skull.

"You can sleep in if you'd like."

She shakes her head. She already feels well-rested. "No, it's alright."

She leaves a kiss on his cheek before they hear something stirring in the room. Zero shakes his head from his doggy bed before peering around the bedroom. He levitates from the surface and meets with the eyes of his master and Sally. The ghost dog joins them and nuzzles both of their sides excitedly.

Jack chuckles as he pats his small head. "Good morning to you, Zero!"

Some more movement comes from the floor before a small, black figure jumps onto the edge of the bed. Ophelia tiredly blinks her yellow eyes at the figures, running along the blankets to meet with her owner. Sally coos when the feline jumps into her lap and nestles into her arm. What a wonderful way to start the morning!

"Good morning, Ophelia.."

The Pumpkin King takes this time to leave the bed and approach the windows, fully moving the curtains so the sun completely envelops the room. He moves to his dresser and searches around in his drawers for his clothes. The other figures watch him intently from the bed. Sally rubs her eyes as she adjusts to the light in the room.

"Did you sleep well, dearest?" The skeleton asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

She nods. "Just terrible!"

"I'm glad to hear it. I wanted our first night together to be perfectly unpleasant!"

He moves behind the screen to start dressing himself. He hears his beloved leave the bed after a few minutes and passes right through the door. The pitter-patters of her cat follow behind, and he can hear Zero's tag chiming down the stairs. It's only when he's fully dressed when the familiar sound of sizzling comes from the kitchen. She must be making breakfast already!

He grins to himself, elated with everything so far. This was the right decision to make after all this time. He'll have to spend the rest of the morning moving her things from her room and properly making his space into theirs . He’s already cleared plenty of time in his schedule to do it. He's more than excited by the time he rushes down the stairs to meet with Sally, kissing her neck once or twice while she stands over the stove cooking the food.

The sound of her giggles brings a new delight to his bones.

. . .

The nights go on, as do the mornings. They've moved past what happened on Halloween night. In fact, the subject never comes up again as the two get more comfortable. Jack's favorite part, albeit self-indulgent, are the mornings he spends waking up next to her . He finds he rises even earlier than usual just to watch her form next to his - sleeping so peacefully, auburn hair messily strewn over her face and the pillows, looking like the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his death. He listens to her small breaths in this time until she eventually wakes, and then he greets her with a kiss.

As the weeks pass, the skeleton and ragdoll start noticing each other's habits. While she sleeps, he finds she makes the tiniest of snores on some nights, almost virtually unnoticeable if it hadn't been for his keen sense of hearing. She will, in return, find the King overworking himself most nights, cooping himself up in his study while he reads or experiments. She has to drag him to bed every time this happens, sweetly reminding him to get his rest and that it's time to go to bed together.

He never resists. He feels like he's in some sort of Heaven as his angel leads him temptingly to their bedroom with a tight pull on his wrist. He sighs in bliss every time it happens. Things truly couldn't be better.

----

It is a quiet afternoon when Sally Finklestein sweeps around the entrance of her sewing shop. It is the usual time she takes a break and temporarily closes her business until she returns. She normally spends this time either in the plaza or the Town Hall, where she meets with Jack during his own lunch break. The two usually eat together and catch up at this time, before having to return to their responsibilities for the rest of the day.

She plans to meet with him and talk over a modest meal she packed for both of them this morning. She returns her broom inside and locks the front door of the shop with a hum. She eagerly turns on her heel and is about to begin her way until she is interrupted by the sound of laughter. It isn't a normal, childish one - rather, a collection of shrieks that sound from across the street. It is accompanied by the sound of running feet. She assumes it's from the Town children playing together as they usually do around this time, and continues on her way like normal.

The laughter continues until she stumbles upon the source of the noise. The sight makes her stop completely in her tracks. It is coming from three children she's never seen in Town before...she marvels at their bright clothing. They look exactly like the trick-or-treaters she’s seen in the human world - dressed in costume from head-to-toe. There is one young girl and two little boys - the girl is dressed as a purple witch, with a tall hat, stringy black hair, and a long green mask. One of the boys seems to be a skeleton, who has stubby green hair, a round face, and only three pointy fingers and toes on his hands and feet. He wears a circular mask sporting a wide, toothy grin. The last boy looks to be a devil, with his hair gelled upwards to represent small horns, and a long red mask situated over his tall face, as a pointy tail flickers from his pants.

The three are currently standing in front of other children, except these are ones Sally recognizes from Town. There is the mummy boy - a child wrapped entirely in paper whom she knows loves to help the Mayor with his duties, a small winged demon with large black wings, and the corpse couple’s kid, Ethan. There is a look of terror on their faces as the trick-or-treaters stand before them, attempting to hide their bags behind their small figures. She notices they’re filled with many colorful wrappers, which she assumes must be candy.

The small witch steps forward, batting her broom on the ground in warning. “Give it to us! We know you’re hiding it!”

Ethan narrows his stitched eyes. He is among the few residents that happen to be blind. “Who says we have to give it to you!? Aren’t you supposed to EARN your own candy?”

“Push off!” The devil warns as he steps forward. “You owe us for helping you last Halloween! Give us the candy!”

“HELP? You got all of us in trouble for that trick you played last year!” The mummy boy joins in. “We don’t want anything to do with you bullies!”

“ ‘Bullies..’ ?” The skeleton kid snickers from behind.

The trick-or-treaters exchange a glance. Despite their masks concealing most of their faces, it is clear that there is mischief in their gaze. The other children loudly gulp and begin to back away as the taller figures step forward threateningly. It is at this point Sally realizes something is about to go badly. The three suddenly take the masks off of their faces, revealing almost identical expressions underneath.

“It seems like we have to remind you of who we exactly are ..!” The girl giggles menacingly.

The other figures nod in agreement before joining her side. This is when they completely advance on the Halloween Town children, cornering them until they have no more space to go. Then they arrange themselves in a line, with the devil coming first while the witch and skeleton follow from behind. They momentarily hold the masks over their faces before dramatically lowering them.

“Lock!” “Shock!” “Barrel!”

The last member licks the lollipop in his hand greedily, eying the bags they are currently concealing from them. He nudges his fellow trick-or-treaters. “Say, I think I know where they’re keeping their candy..!”

“Oh? Where is it, Barrel?” Shock plays along.

“Hey! I think I see them, too!” Lock comes forward and points a finger behind them, making the small kids quiver in fear. “You’re hiding it behind your backs! That’s the oldest trick in the book! Our book!”

“P...please…” The demon’s red eyes start to moisten with tears. “This is all we have..! Our parents would get mad if-”

“ Psh ! This is why we don’t have any parents! We work for the boogeyman, and he doesn’t have any of those lame rules..!” She snorts at them. Barrel nods in agreement.

“We take our job in pride...and the boss wants us to get him some extra candy! Which means you will have to give it to us. Don’t make us ask twice.”

Ethan sobs as they attempt to grab the bags from their hands. “ Stop !”

“Or what ?” Lock pushes him. His large figure falls onto the floor harshly. “Are you gonna tattle on us?”

The other two cohorts shake their heads in disappointment. “You’d be really stupid to try that.”

Before they attempt to push them down any further, a feminine yell interrupts them. The kids jump in alarm as a tall woman approaches them with a displeased look on her face.

“You stop picking on those kids right now !”

Lock, Shock, and Barrel freeze in their spots. The bags fall from their small hands as they turn around and find Sally Finklestein standing a few feet away from them. She has her hands clenched to her sides and her eyes firmly narrowed - completely upset at the scene she has just witnessed. In this silence, the mummy boy helps Ethan back to his feet and the hastily three collect their candy. Before the trick-or-treaters can do anything, they suddenly flee on the spot, running as far and quickly as they can. Shock lets out a frustrated groan at the sight before turning sharply to the older woman, pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

“Hey! What’s your problem, lady!?”

“Why are you treating those kids like that?” Sally implores with a frown. “You can’t bully them out of their candy! That is just...despicable!”

The three look at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. ‘Despicable ..?’ They guffaw right there on the floor, slamming their hands on their stomach amusingly. The ragdoll watches them with a confused look. Then she gets upset and steps even closer, wanting these mischievous children to understand how unacceptable their actions are. She points in the direction the others left in.

“I want you to go to them and apologize, right now!”

“Who do you think you are? Our mom?” The devil inquires sarcastically.

Shock laughs right with him while Barrel tilts his head at her tall figure. He suddenly tugs on his cohort’s sleeve and leans forward to whisper something. The surprised look on Lock’s face stops their laughter and he whispers another thing to Shock. The smile leaves her lips as she takes a small step forward.

“Wait..” She looks her up-and-down. “Do we know you ?”

“ Know me..?” Sally repeats quietly. She thinks if she has ever seen these kids before in her life. Then something starts to click...a past memory she has pushed aside for a long time. It is the same ordeal Jack apologized for when they first properly talked together - how she got kidnapped by that wretched Bug King, years ago...it is almost terrifying to remember.

She was newly-created at the time, by the hands of the town’s mad scientist, Dr. Finklestein. She was only alive for a few days before Halloween Town was completely overrun by horrible bugs. She got separated from her creator at the time, and was suddenly stuffed into a bag by the hands of three small children. She remembered the way they giggled when they stuffed her in the bathtub, speaking to her as if she were Jack Skellington. Her heart sinks remembering how she didn’t even know him, at the time. And the way she reacted when she first saw the Boogeyman...the sheer terror displayed on her face when he insisted on keeping her captive...

“That’s it!” Barrel exclaims. “She’s the one we kidnapped for Oogie! Susan!”

“Not ‘Susan’, you idiot!” Lock smacks him upside the head. “It was….erm...uh….”

“ Sally !” Shock slaps her forehead in realization. The other’s eyes widen before they look back at her, then make small ‘ah’ sounds. They look at each other again before laughing once more, slapping their knees this time. The ragdoll is even more insulted this time, but it is nothing compared to how she feels with their next words:

“Oh, man! Didn’t Jack have to come and save you? How helpless are you? And you think you can boss us around!?” The witch giggles. “I think the Doctor forgot to give you a brain!”

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Barrel abruptly points in a direction.

The others follow his finger and notice a newly-constructed building in this part of Halloween Town. They read the sign plastered outside proudly - “ Sally’s Sewing Shop ”. The pristine paint, the intact windows and doors...it certainly catches their attention. Both Lock and Shock stroke their chins the longer they look at it. Plenty of ideas stir in their mind, wondering just how they can vandalize it and make their work look proud. Sally frowns as she notices the expression on their faces. Panic settles in her leaves. She doesn’t feel right about any part of this situation at all.

“No!” She exclaims firmly. “Whatever you’re thinking of...don’t do it!”

“Is that YOUR sewing shop?” Shock teases. “I don’t remember THAT being there before..”

“How’d you get it?” Lock asks curiously. At her silence, he gives a knowing look at the other two. “Guys, don’t you remember those rumors in Town? That Jack got a girlfriend ?”

“Ew!” Barrel and Shock stick out their tongues in disgust. Then they realize his words and grin devilishly. “I mean, yes... we do !”

“I bet he got you that shop! And I bet how upset he’d be if something happened to it...because some doll wasn’t watching her mouth around Boogie’s Boys!”

Something snaps in her at those words. She doesn’t appreciate how cocky they sound, nor the coy smile that boy has when he says them. She steps forward and clenches her fists tightly. So tight she can feel the seams begin to weaken….her eyes widen as she comes even closer and the three take a step back. They notice her stiff posture and the smile is promptly wiped off their faces. In a dark tone, Sally Finklestein warns them:

“You will NOT be going anywhere NEAR my shop! And if you do, Jack will bring the WORST punishment on you three that you have ever SEEN! Do I make myself clear!?”

They don’t appreciate being talked to like this. But they think twice of it, and decide it’s not worth the trouble right now. They * can * get in serious hot water with Jack whenever he is angry - they’ve learned that lesson plenty in the past. And knowing this is his girlfriend...that would make things worse! They decide to drop it for now, only out of caution, and exchange a defeated nod with each other. They stick their tongues out at her before scurrying off in a random direction, glancing back only once to snicker wickedly. She is left standing there, fuming, as their small figures disappear through a gate. She releases her fists and lets out a sigh, worryingly glancing back at her shop and feeling the anxiety start to raise in her leaves.

‘I should talk with Jack…’

----

Sally is disappointed to learn that the skeleton has to cancel their arrangement that afternoon, as the Mayor is overworking him especially on this day. She shares some understanding, knowing he took the day off with her not too long ago just to spend some time together...he asks her if there’s anything urgent she needs to tell him - and she decides to bite her tongue, for now. She can spill everything about it to him tonight, when they can relax together after dinner, and all of his work is off his shoulders…

Finding she has a free afternoon, she decides to visit the Witches in their shop. They told her she is free to come by anytime, and that they’re interested in getting to know her. This certainly holds true, as the women inform her it’s their own lunch break, and insist on bringing her to a small arrangement with the other women in town. They demand on doing it to make up for the cruelty they all showed her in the past. She’s almost nervous accepting such an invitation, but agrees to it in the end. She would like to make new friends, after all…!

Sally Finklestein is led to a small table in the Residential part of town, shaded by an umbrella, where the Undersea Gal and Corpse Mom are currently sitting at, sipping small cups of tea and eating at plates with sandwiches on them. She is surprised at how welcome she is received, as there is no trouble making room for her the moment they spot her. She brings her own lunch to the table, a small bowl of worm and pea soup, before comfortably sitting beside the witches.

“Sally! We’ve been wanting to see you for some time now.” The Corpse Mom adjusts her glasses with a smile. “We just want to know all about what you’re up to..!”

“Your shop must be getting so many customers. I would visit you myself, if I had any need for clothes.” The fish butts in. “What I’ve heard from everyone else is terrible!”

“Oh, please..” She bats her eyes at their words. “It’s really nothing special. I am busy with all the clothes I’m making, but it’s only to help everyone in town.”

“You won that award on Halloween..! I would say it was rightfully deserved!” Helgamine exclaims, almost too passionately. It’s clear she’s making an effort, at least.

“You made my little boy some new clothes. He goes through them quicker than the vampires getting out of the sun.” The large woman sets down her sandwich. “We are all incredibly thankful for what you do.”

Her ruby lips curve into a smile. This is going all so well..! The five of them start having an incredibly deep conversation, speaking about how things are going in town. She appreciates getting to hear from some of the residents she doesn’t know. They don’t seem all that upset with her presence and even ask plenty of questions to her. She grows more comfortable the longer they speak, and a full hour passes before their lunches are finished, and they are now drinking through their cups and enjoying the afternoon.

“You are such a delight, Sally.” The Undersea Gal compliments her. “We should get together more often..!”

The witches bow their heads and look another way at this suggestion. They agree regardless, and the creation appreciates this gesture. Before further words can be exchanged, the loud sound of a door slamming shut interrupts them. The women snap their heads in the direction, to find an angry shopkeeper disposing of unwanted customers. Sally isn’t surprised when it’s the same trick-or-treaters from before.

Lock, Shock, and Barrel rub their backs in pain as they remove themselves from the floor. They throw their hands angrily up in the air. “Hey! How could you treat your own customers like this? We’re just kids!”

“Yeah - rotten little brats, is what you three are!” He rebuts angrily, returning to his shop. “Come back when you know how to follow the rules!”

The figures flinch as the door slams shut again, even louder this time. The three exchange angry frowns before nodding and reaching into their bag, surfacing rolls of toilet paper and straws. It’s clear to any outsider what is going to happen - they’re going to play a classic ‘trick’ on the unfortunate owner. Sally frowns as she witnesses this, and begins to stand in her chair to stop them. The other women notice and push her back down in her seat, giving her a firm shake of the heads.

“You don’t want to do that, dear.” The mother warns her. “Those three are more than you can handle.”

“I scared them off from my shop earlier.” She crosses her arms angrily. “They threatened to vandalize it, and I made it very clear Jack would punish them for it if they did.”

“You must’ve gotten lucky.” The Undersea Gal rolls her eyes. “They’ll never leave anyone alone before getting either candy, or playing a trick. They’re the worst trick-or-treaters in town, and I don’t mean that as a compliment..!”

The witches stand from their chair, shaking their heads and letting out disappointed ‘tsks’ . “Children..! They just never learn, do they, sister?” Zeldaborne asks. Helgamine agrees as the two leave the table.

Sally and the others watch curiously as they confront the kids. They were in the middle of throwing the paper all over the building and preparing some spit wads. They notice their visitors and resort to name-calling and screams, before the two women flick their wrists and begin to chant a spell. Without any warning, a purple glow is cast on the trick-or-treaters, freezing them mid-air and forcing them to drop everything in their hands. They struggle in their grip and yell harshly at them. Helgamine grins in satisfaction.

“Now, are you three going to scram before we have to turn you into toads again?” She asks. “And this time, we’ll make it last for more than 3 days!”

“No! Don’t do that to us!” Barrel struggles to move his arms. “Not again !”

“Then promise you’ll leave and quit bugging everyone! We don’t want you here, and we don’t know how many times we have to say it..!”

“Not until you learn how to behave!” Zeldaborne adds before turning to one of them. “And Shock, you know how disappointed we are in you..! You could be learning how to be a proper witch instead of all this nonsense!”

The little girl laughs bravely. “From who? You hags? I would never want to!”

They move their fingers and the glow grows only stronger. The kids groan as the grip is tightened. It doesn’t take long before they begin to plead. “Please, stop! We’ll go!” “Yeah! Far away!” “-Back to our treehouse!”

“Good. Off you go, then.”

They release the spell, and the three land on the ground harshly again. They throw sour looks in their direction before grabbing their stuff and running off. It’s clear they’re more afraid this time, as they don’t even bother looking back. The witches clean their hands off before returning to the other women at the table, sitting back down casually and acting as if nothing had happened at all. Sally is in awe at what happened, and smiles in delight at them.

“That really works..?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve had to throw so many spells on them just to stop their shenanigans.” Helgamine huffs. “It’s expensive to keep doing it, and it seems like every week we have to..! I wish they would stay in that treehouse of theirs.”

“Who exactly are they..?” She inquires. “They kidnapped me once, to give to their ‘boss’ . That was when that Bug King took over the town.”

“Right. That debacle.” The Undersea Gal frowns at the memory. “They are trick-or-treaters, obviously, but they’re more of miscreants. Always causing trouble and bringing bad things with them..! None of us want them here.”

“That’s right! They do all of these awful, nasty things for that terrible Oogie Boogie...they are never good news. Don’t believe them if they promise anything to you.” The Corpse Mom shivers in her seat. “They’ll just wreck your stuff and bully your boys just to get free candy!”

“We believe in the name of trick-or-treating, we truly do! But they take their ‘tricks’ to such levels…” Zeldaborne clenches her hands. “No matter how much candy you give them, they’ll keep coming back and demanding more each time!”

The Undersea Gal comes forward and lays a scaly hand on her shoulder. “Don’t ever let them into your shop, Sally, or even around it for Halloween’s sake! They will only cause trouble for you. Believe me. It’s happened to all of us.”

She frowns at all this information. She can believe it. Those words they said to her earlier...none of it was good news. “How come such children behave this way? How could they work for someone so awful? And what you said, Zeldaborne...that girl doesn’t even want to become a witch like you two. How could that be?”

“ -That Oogie Boogie !” They all exclaim, angrily, in unison. She looks around the table in confusion.

“He makes those little ones work for him, and it is just so cruel.” Corpse Mom frowns. “He constantly feeds them candy and junk food all day, and lets them do whatever they want! He’s the reason why they cause so much mischief.”

“They live in a treehouse in the Hinterlands forest. Far from town, but not far enough , in my opinion!” Zeldaborne waves her fist in the air angrily. The other creatures sigh and nod in agreement.

“Oogie Boogie is terrible news. You don’t want to meet him, which is why you should avoid those trick-or-treaters at all costs. It’s best you don’t catch their attention, otherwise the Boogeyman will know about you , too.” Helgamine warns Sally darkly.

She wishes to ask them more about this subject, but the ladies insist on changing topics - to something more... cheerful . She slumps in her seat as they begin to talk about business in town. She joins in the conversation when necessary, but her mind feels... troubled , and overwhelmed with all this information. She can’t get the image of those children out of her mind, and finds that somehow, somewhere , deep down...she feels a little sad for them.

----

The rest of the day is spent cautiously in her shop. She finds herself hanging around near her front door more often, constantly peering around the streets in search of those miscreants again. She’s relieved to find no sight of them, and is quick to close her sewing shop once the time comes. She makes sure she locks the door and closes the curtains before leaving for the Skellington Manor. Ophelia blinks worriedly at her owner from the basket held in the crook of her arm. The ragdoll seems so tense, that even an animal like her can sense it..!

She makes her way through the doors and relaxes once she’s inside. She lets Ophelia onto the floor and discards her wicker basket on the table. The cat happily meets with the ghostly dog and the two retreat to the other end of the room. She watches them run off before suddenly being met with two long arms wrapping around her figure. She smiles as she feels Jack Skellington hugging her, digging his skull into her shoulder. His pumpkin cologne eases her instantly.

“Welcome home, Sal..!” He greets her proudly in her ear. She hugs him back tightly.

“Glad to be home, Jack…”

He withdraws after a moment, allowing her to get comfortable. It is still a little early before dinner has to be made, so the skeleton joins her side and rests on the cushions of the couch. The animals are playing on the carpet in front of them, giving quite an amusing sight to the Manor’s residents. He chuckles when Ophelia manages to paw at Zero’s pumpkin nose, which lights up in alarm at the contact. Sally catches this scene and giggles as well.

“Aren’t they adorable together?”

“They certainly are.” He agrees with a knowing tone. Zero catches their words and quietly growls, only to be cut off when the black cat paws at him again.

“He won’t admit it, but I know Zero’s gotten very fond of her.” The tall man informs his girlfriend. “He enjoys the company so much, he waits right by the door for you to return from your shop with Ophelia!”

“Does he, now?” The ragdoll teases and the dog turns away. “I’m so glad he loves the new addition to our little family..!”

The apparition decides he’s had enough of their teasing and flies entirely into another room. The cat is confused at this gesture and runs straight after him. The two figures laugh from the couch as they watch them disappear through a doorway. They’re left alone now, and the silence starts to linger. She goes to cuddle with Jack and sighs in relief once she’s in his grip. She still has to tell him about her day...but she’d rather do that after they’ve eaten….

“Would you like me to cook dinner tonight?” She offers. He thinks about the idea, stroking his finger along hers.

“Why don’t we make something together ..? We’ve haven’t done that yet..!”

“Cooking together?” She blinks in interest. “I’ve never done such a thing...sharing the kitchen was never an option because, well, the Doctor had trouble with cooking!”

“Not a problem for me.” He picks her up in one smooth movement from the couch. She lets out a surprised noise before hugging his frame tightly. “Why, we should get started right now..!”

He moves his skull down to brush his nasal bone against her nose. She enjoys the touch while he brings them into the kitchen within only a few steps. He lets her down and starts searching through a cookbook. She joins his side and, after a few minutes, the two agree on a special meal to make together. It’s a new experience entirely to be cooking by the Pumpkin King - she��s always thought sharing a kitchen would feel cramped and bothersome, but it is entirely the opposite! Rarely would they bump elbows or get in the other’s way; it is delightful to help pour the ingredients in bowls and have him reach anything she can’t.

They spend a wonderful time cooking a casserole together, and by the time it’s finished, they’re both eager to try it. They waste no time helping themselves to their servings, sitting in the dining room to share this meal they made together. She feels almost excited as she squirms in her seat, eagerly stabbing her fork through the food and bringing it to her lips, savoring the taste…It doesn’t take very long until she comes to a judgement.

“It’s...delicious!” She exclaims. He takes his own bite and soon agrees.

“Absolutely wonderful! See? We make such good things together..! Remember the Halloween costumes?”

“That we do...it was delightful, Jack. I hope we do this again.”

“Then we will.” He replies smoothly before taking another bite.

She relaxes completely in her seat as they resume their meal, finishing it shortly with its tempting flavors. They return to the living room to cuddle once more, allowing their supper to be digested. The pets have long moved on in the house, but they don’t mind being alone at that moment. He especially misses her contact after not making it to their lunch together that day...he feels guilty having to be away, and frowns as he combs his hand through her yarn hair. He’s obligated to ask.

“How did your day go, my love? It didn’t trouble you that I couldn’t make it to our arrangement, did it? The soup you made was very good...”

“Oh, it was fine. I know you have plenty of work with the Mayor.” She nestles his side sweetly. “I went into town and had lunch with the Witches and a few other women from town.”

“Did that go well?”

“Yes. They’ve been wanting to make it up to me for what they said in the past. And we had a lovely time together. We talked so much about my shop and what’s been going on in the town…except, well…”

He notices her hesitation and leans forward. “Except…?” He inquires, crooking an eye socket.

“I had an unexpected encounter today, with...well, some children.” She awkwardly begins explaining. “I met the trick-or-treaters today. I found them picking on the Corpse Kid, the Mummy boy, and the winged demon...I just had to put a stop to it, so I interrupted them. It didn’t go quite as I planned…”

“You met with Lock, Shock, and Barrel?” The skeleton asks in surprise. She waits before nodding. “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Well, yes * and * no. They noticed my shop and threatened to do something to it, before I told them you would punish them if they did. And then they ran off. But when I had lunch with those ladies, we noticed them picking on some of the shopkeepers in town. The Witches stepped in and put an end to it, but-”

“-They’re a lot of trouble, Sally.” He interrupts her, waving a skeletal finger. “You need to be wary of them.”

“That’s exactly what they said.” She sighs. “But, Jack, who exactly are they? They told me they were miscreants and trick-or-treaters, but that’s all I really know…”

He hums before removing his arms and sitting upright. She can tell this is a serious subject and allows him to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he replies, “-They’re Halloween Town’s finest trick-or-treaters. And by that, really, they’re just good at what they do. Which is to get candy and pull tricks. But they cause much more trouble than they’re worth, and often try to give me and the Mayor a hard time…”

She leans forward and listens intently, wanting to know more about these children. “Where did they come from? I heard they don’t have any parents.”

“No. They don’t.” He frowns. “They came into town a long time ago, recently deceased at the time, I believe...they caused a lot of trouble back then, not particularly interested in meeting us, but demanding candy from everyone and pulling lots of pranks and tricks on them. It was overwhelming for me and the Mayor, and we tried our best to put a stop to it but...we weren’t very successful, you see…”

She blinks at his story.

“We were desperate and out of options trying to get these kids to behave. I could only scare them so much to put them in line. Not to mention, we had Halloween to worry about, and couldn't babysit them all the time. We eventually brought them to someone whom we thought could correct their behavior...but it hasn’t worked since.”

“Did you bring them to the boogeyman?”

He flinches at the word and visibly tenses. She is about to ask why until he grits his teeth and continues. “-- Yes . We brought them to Oogie Boogie thinking he could correct their behavior...but he took advantage of it instead, and made them his henchmen. They carry all his wrongdoings now since he can’t leave his casino.”

“And why can’t he?”

“I banished him. The same day he kidnapped you, and I met you for the first time.” He finds it within himself to smile softly, reaching for her hand and holding it firmly. “He had to be punished for what he did with the town, and trying to overthrow me. It’s the only way he can get what he wants - by making those children do all his dirty work for him.”

“Don’t you feel bad for them..? That they are under his control, and they had so much potential to be innocent little children…”

“It’s a difficult situation.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I’ve given them plenty of opportunities to better themselves and get * away * from Oogie Boogie, but they never seem to want to do it. They insist on telling him everything and involving him in everything I’ve asked them to do. He inevitably has some influence on them, one way or another.”

He notices her picking her seams nervously(a habit he might scold her for, it worries him immensely that she'll pull herself apart), and brings her gaze back to his. He tells her firmly. “Sally, everything those witches and women told you is true. They are trouble and do not come with good intentions. Please, avoid them all you can, and let me know immediately if they start bothering you and your shop.”

“I will. I don’t trust them.” She replies firmly, then softens her gaze. “But I still feel so bad for those children…”

“As do I. But, please, it is not your situation to fix. Don’t worry about them. Eventually, I’m sure they’ll overgrow everything and want to move on ....” He begins to mutter with his sentence, and snaps himself out of it. “Just don’t talk to them or let them inside your shop. Understand?”

She nods again. He drops the subject from there and announces that it’s time to get ready for bed. She obliges and follows him into their room together, changing into their pajamas for the night and freshening up before heading into bed. They sleep together closely, with Jack holding her unusually tight, more so than normal. The entire evening, she thinks of those children and the boogeyman…and her first encounter with all of them….

#The Nightmare Before Christmas #Nightmare Before Christmas #Jack Skellington #Jack and Sally #Jack X Sally #Lock Shock and Barrel #Oogie Boogie #TNBC #Tim Burton #Disney #Our Nightmare #fanfiction #long post #long

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