#it was all MC was focusing on at the beginning then they ignored it

[writereleaserepeat]

This last month I've been enamored by @sowhumpshaped's interactive whump story, "Stray." It came to a beautiful end just a few days ago, and I was inspired to come out of the woodwork long enough to write a little fanfic. Make sure to go read their story before continuing here! It's a lovely work of art and I had so much fun seeing where it went. I miss the daily updates already!

This story is set twenty years after the main storyline of "Stray," and ten years after total pet liberation. It takes place in I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Disneyworld, and it features our MC (you!) meeting a ghost from their past.

CW: mentions of pet whump, second person POV, swearing

WC: ~2250

You run your tongue along the mountain of sweet vanilla cream, savoring its delicate flavor as it slowly melts in your mouth. With how much this ice cream cost, you were determined to enjoy every moment of its blissful respite from the summer heat. The mouse might know how to mark up its sweets, but it wouldn't steal away your enjoyment of this day, not even with an ice cream cone that cost an arm and a leg.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sight of the ride coming to a halt beyond the fence. The harnesses begin to release and the children start pouring towards the exit, all smiles and laughters as they rush to find their parents on the other side. Your daughter is easy to spot, a tall girl - god, when did she get so tall? - with a glowing, gap-toothed smile.

Much to your surprise, she comes to greet you with another girl in tow, a child whose face reminds you of someone you can't place, their eyes sparkling with a hint of familiarity. A celebrity, maybe?

You don't have any more time to ponder before your daughter begins talking. She holds the other girl’s hand, a child who couldn’t have been a year older than her, and all but pulls her up to greet you.

"This is Delaney, we were on the ride together! She's so nice," Libby speaks in that same pleading tone you're never able to resist. "Please, please, please can we go to the next ride together?"

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” you say as sympathetically as you can, putting a palm on Libby's head. “We need to ask Delaney’s grown-up first.”

“My dad will say it’s okay,” Delaney says with a vigorous nod, “he’s right over there!”

She points towards a man striding in your direction, his hair long, but his gait familiar. As he brushes the hair from in front of his eyes, you freeze. You know those eyes. You’ll never forget those eyes, even if they’re set deeper in wrinkles now.

The world stops. For one painful moment, you don’t even feel your heart beat. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

But it wasn’t. You draw a breath, a deep breath that pushes hard against your ribs. You’re free. All the pets are free now, and they have been free for ten years. It had been another ten years before that since you’d last seen Rayan.

He recognizes you too, you can tell in the way his jaw slackens, dumbfounded. That glitter of recognition continues as he finally stumbles into earshot and his tongue begins to work.

“Thirt-"

“Not in front of my daughter,” you hiss, leaning in towards his ear as you do so. “Not in front of my fucking daughter.” You keep a smile on your face, only just, so your child doesn’t have to see you fall apart before her eyes.

He seems startled, startled enough to shut up for one moment. But silence had never been his strong suit, you could remember that much, the way he'd ramble on and on after his volunteer shifts. You'd always let him talk - not today. The dynamic had shifted. Today, you look him in the eyes as an equal.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Papa!” Delaney interjects, cutting Rayan off a second time. “I met this girl on the ride, her name’s Libby, she’s super fun, and super nice, and we want to go on another ride together.” She tugs on Rayan’s arm, but he doesn’t look down.

“Actually,” you say, pulling your daughter close to you, “I think we need to go catch up with Libby’s little brother and my partner.”

“Please?” Libby pleads again, staring at you with those doe eyes that always melt your heart. “Just one ride. It can be this one, we can do it again, we don’t even have to walk anywhere.”

Fuck.

What was almost twenty years of therapy worth if you couldn’t stand next to Rayan for another five minutes? You’d imagined talking to him a thousand times over, you’d thought painstakingly about what you’d say to him if you ever could, you'd prayed to his memory as much as you'd cursed it. But now, all you want is to walk away and never look at him again.

No more running. You'd promised yourself that almost two decades ago, and hell if you couldn't carry through with that promise today, especially with a family that needed you.

“Okay,” you concede, forcing a smile at Libby. She would never see you falter, not now, not ever. “You can ride this same ride one more time, just once, and only if you use your QuickCard to skip the line. We don’t want to get too far behind the rest of the family.”

“Sure,” Rayan says, voice measured. He smiles down at Delaney as well, but you can tell it's forced. “You can go too. Don’t forget, you only have three more taps on your QuickCard.”

“That’s okay!” Delaney chirps, already pulling Libby towards the line. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

And as the girls run in a tangle of limbs and laughter back into the ride's entrance, you’re left alone next to Rayan. The silence weighs heavily on your shoulders, and you feel the ice cream beginning to melt between your fingers. Then it's just you and Rayan, alone.

Not literally alone. You two are the furthest from alone you ever could be, stood next to a swinging steel pirate ship, amidst a park milling with tens of thousands of other people. But you can hardly hear the screams, the voices, the mechanical groans of the rides. Rayan’s presence next to you is suffocating.

You say nothing yet. What is there to say? You’ve said it all a million times before. To the shower walls, to your therapist, to the darkened skies in the early dawn. But none of it had ever compared to what you feel right now.

Something like hope begins to itch in your chest. Maybe this would give you closure, real closure, not the metaphorical closing of a book at the end of a therapy session. You've craved closure for so long. Could Rayan finally be this holy grail?

“I’m sorry,” Rayan says. If you didn’t know better, his voice sounded on the verge of breaking. “I’m sorry for everything.”

His swallow is louder than even the most cacophonous thunderstorm. He continues, tripping over his words, falling over himself with every syllable.

“Look, I was just doing my best. I mean, you were a kid, and I was basically still a kid too, and I was doing what I thought was best, just trying to help, you know? It’s been twenty years and I’ve never forgotten your face. And I mean, look at you now, here with your kids, this is what all the freed pets wanted, isn’t it? The chance to live like this?”

In that moment you know what you need from Rayan. It's what you've needed from him all along, even if you couldn't name it before now.

“Say it,” you mumble, struggling to find your voice. That hope for closure, god, you can feel it, you need it, and-

“What?”

“Say it,” you growl, more firmly this time. “You know what I need you to say.”

“Look, thir- whatever name you chose, I don’t know what you want from me.”

You finally look him in the eyes again.

“Say that I’m a person. Tell me that I’m a person.”

“Of course you are,” Rayan begins, and you watch him hold up his hands as he fights against his tongue's knots. “That’s what the Decree says. All pets had their legal status changed to reflect their unequivocal personhood.”

“That’s not what I asked. I know my pet lib history - likely better than you do. I want you to tell me that I, me, the living being standing in front of you, is a person.”

That nervous look in Rayan’s eyes tells you everything you need to know. The pregnant pause that follows is just painful confirmation. There would be no closure here for you today.

“Pathetic.” It takes all of your strength not to slap him in the face. “Twenty years and you haven’t learned a damn thing. The rest of the world has moved on from that nonsense and you can’t take five seconds to pull your head out of your ass.”

“Look," another swallow as Rayan wrings his hands. “Yeah, it’s been ten years, and still, there’s these studies, right? I'm sure they taught you to read in the, uh, the rehabilitation classes. There's studies that shows the pets that were liberated, they just aren't adapting to society as people do, you know? They don't excel at their jobs, they don't succeed in forming traditional family units, they engage in crime and anti-social behavior at much higher rates..."

You scoff and roll your eyes. All you can feel is the bile thick in your throat. Those studies, those lies, that propaganda, it would never stop. And people like Rayan would never stop feeding on it. You knew this, hell, you taught about it, at your community college's pet lib program. There would always be someone with an interest in the tyranny over 'pets,' be it emotional or financial, and it would succeed as long as people like Rayan were stupid enough to buy it.

"Look," Rayan says, putting his hands on the nearby railing as he looks away from you, "all I'm saying is, if you're a good- as good a soul as I think you are, you'd want what's best for your daughter, right? And, and maybe, well, maybe what's best for your family is how things used to be. You don't know for sure that things are better now. What if you're denying your family the chance to be taken care of, to truly thrive? What if they're not meant to be taken care of by, ah, by something like you?"

For a moment you think about striking him. You think about taking him to the ground, right there in the middle of the theme park, and pummeling him senseless. You want to beat that nonsense right out of his skull.

But that would prove his point, wouldn't it?

No. You know you can't do that. You can't wait for your daughter to come back and see your knuckles bloodied, this stranger choking on his own teeeth, your face contorted into an unfamiliar visage of rage. You weren't going to be a monster.

"You disgust me." The words are stickier than honey on your tongue. "Your vapid platitudes mean nothing. Your saviour complex has kept you stuck in the past while the rest of society is growing and learning from our sins. I'll always be grateful that you dragged me out of the trash that one day, and I'll always be grateful that you kept a roof over my head long enough for me to find my liberation. But I owe you nothing, not now, not ever again. I have my personhood - I always have. It's a shame you aren't using yours for something more meaningful."

You see a flash of pink out of the corner of your eye. Libby was coming back, running hand-in-hand with Delaney, that same joyful smile on her face. The smile of a child who had never seen the tyranny of the system you'd oncee been subdued by. The smile of a child who would learn just how important their personhood was, and always would be.

"Libby, darling, we need to go," you say as she comes within earshot. Your tongue is dry and sticky in your throat, and you need a drink of water. Your partner has water, wherever they are in the park now. You want to go to them now, seek the affirmation of everything you'd built in the time since you'd left Rayan behind all those years ago. You want to feel their comforting touch, something to ground you, to remind you of who you are. Who you've always been.

A good person.

Libby seems to wilt a bit, dejectedly dropping Delaney's hand from her own.

"Aw, but-"

"No buts. It's time to see what your brother is up to, and we have a lot of rides to catch before the day is over."

She pauses for a moment, and you can see her thinking it over. After another second she nods, seemingly convinced.

"Okay, as long as you promise to come on the next roller coaster with me."

"I promise," you say, reaching out a pinkie towards her. She hooks her pinkie in yours, and you take the opportunity to pull her close to you, away from Rayan, and away from the child he will undoubtedly raise to think just like him.

"Bye, Delaney! We're friends forever, okay?" Libby shouts over her shoulder as you begin to walk away.

"Bye Libby! Forever!" Delaney replies, giggling as she waves.

Your eyes meet Rayan's one last time. They're clouded with emotion, his lips pressed in a thin line. In spite of yourself, you smile at him once, and turn away.

"Alright, sweetheart," you speak to your daughter as the door to your past slams shut behind you. "Let's go have some more fun. We've got the whole day ahead of us."

#if you can't tell I wanted to grab rayan through the screen each and every installment #SUCH a good kind of 'caretaker' in these stories #really interesting to see his reactions to stuff like idk biting him #ANYWAY thanks for the cool story love you whump community keep being awesome #whump fanfic #whump #whump community #pet whump #also nobody ask me where the ice cream went #it was all MC was focusing on at the beginning then they ignored it #you still have the ice cream but it's melted all over your fingers it's sticky you're miserable #also if you see an error in tense - no you don't

[shinjisdone]

How I Imagine TWST Could Be If There Was A Female!MC

Had a bad day yesterday and just wanted to write some brainrot for myself

TW: MC/Reader is solely female here and will be main point talked about/focused on. Many mentions on bullying because you are a girl in an all-boys-academy.

Little differences/somethings there would be I think if MC was female:

Since NRC is an all-boys-academy I think there might be some differences on how the MC might be treated.

Let's just pretend you are really the only girl there, for simplicity's sake.

Grim might feel indifferent OR is stupid enough to not get why being a girl in an all-boys-academy might be a big deal for everyone.

Crowley might go HMMMM how UnusUAL, I'm sure my schOOL isn't miXED....HMMMMM...pondering very deeply.

Oh, well. Who cares. Do his chores anyway.

Would give you the usual school uniform, might ask if you'd like a skirt or even maybe dig up some old skirts. Who knows, maybe NRC used to be mixed.

If you do want that, he'd make you -PSYCH! Of COURSE he'd tell Sam to buy you one. Size and length as well as style can be chosen by you, it just needs to fit with the rest of the uniform.

When barging into the ceremony I believe everyone would be too startled/beside themselves to notice. Grim is the nuisance having to be dealt with.

If there is anything you specifically need...Crowley will just throw it your way.

On your first day Ace might need a second to realize you are a girl. Uh, not only do you not know who the Great Sevens are but you are at the wrong school, too, idiot! Haha! What's a girlie doing here?

Shenanigans happen quickly and Deuce comes to the rescue!

Needs much longer to realize you are a girl. You speak your thanks and as he says it's no problem he - suddenly - clams - up. Oh. Oh. You...g-g-g-girl...? Female....? A womf...?

Blushes like crazy and can't get a peep out, still as a statue. Ace's yelling is what snaps him out of it.

When Ace asks you if he could stay the night since...he got cuffed...you are first like - hmmm. Hmmm.

ಠಿ_ಠ

Nah, nah, nah! It ain't like that! He's gonna sleep on the couch in the lounge! There is no other place and Ramshakle is as good as abandonded anyway. What, you just want some cat as company?

...What do u mean here are ghosts ಠ_ಠ

Trey would be like, oh. Hello. Um, well, I didn't expect you here.

Well, if the headmaster says so, please, feel welcome! Anyone and everyone is welcome to a tea party! (well, if it aligns with the rules...)

Cater might be more surprised. You are so cute! Like, don't take it the wrong way but he just...finds you cute! From the way you make your hair to how you get a unique outfit (if you choose to wear an uniform skirt), oh he wishes he could do it too! Unfortunately, he can't cuz well, uniform is UNIform...

Riddle is too preoccupied and pissy to even notice a new person in the room. He'd probably only notice you after his overblot is over.

Cue in a few days later and he comes to apologize and properly introduce himself. As you introduce yourself back he makes the silent note that you are actually a girl. Huh. This school is not mixed...and you being here certainly must break a rule somewhere...but...you don't seem so bad, so he'll just ignore it. He is the dormleader of Heartslabyul, not of the entirety of NRC.

All in all: Ace barely cares that you are a girl and would just throw his usual jokes and jabs. Would sometimes throw in some that have to do with you being female but those are never in ill will.

Deuce my beloved would at the beginning be very shy but grows used to you and proclaim you as his best friend anyway. Would sometimes forget you are a girl and catch himself in the act. Might feel sheepish or EXTREMELY embarrassed. When the topic of you being female comes up anywhere, no matter with whom, he gets flustered and shy regardless of how close you are.

Trey is the most indifferent but throws in some protective advice anyhow. As your senior and you as his junior, he has to look out for you and he takes you being the only girl in an all-boys-school in account as well while doing so.

Cater annooooooys you to hell and back about how cute you are. He just thinks girls have much more variety when it comes to styling and likes to show you new trends. He has sisters as well so he is more used hanging around girls, anyway.

Riddle is also indifferent but he catches himself often in situations where he focuses intently on you being female. Do you feel comfortable? Is anyone bullying you? That behaviour is unacceptable, so do tell him when something like that happens. Riddle tries to grow from his flaws but will gladly cuff someone's head for that anyday... Would also act more gentlemanly for you. Opens doors, tells Ace and Deuce to hold your books can't you see they are heavy, invites you over to tea parties and takes out the chair for you. A bit more reliant with you when it comes to rule-breaking.

Savanclaw issssss...a bit more attentive of you being female.

Jack is a million times x 100000 more protective of you. You are the only girl here and people here kinda suck are like twisted villains. What are you doing here?!

He has little siblings so he somewhat sees you as his third one (if you'd like that. Though he would never admit that...) and just asks and asks and asks if you are okay, if you need something.

Will walk you from class to your dorm or anywhere else you need to be even if he doesn't, no matter what.

10000000% tsundere. He's...not doing this cuz he's worried...or likes to take care of you.

Ruggie is confused??? On what??? you??? are??? doing here???

UH this is not a mixed school!!! Helloooo??? Does something go 'ding ding ding'! in your head or what?

Also protective, mostly because of his own siblings and that he thinks you are naive. People that are different in any regard are unfortunately easy targets for others. This school won't be easy for you he already knows. So he might as well help out instead of being another troublemaker for you.

While he helps out he is also kinda wary of you??? Women in his home are uh, intimidating and if you have been doing good so far, you surely are, well, at least something that he doesn't want to mess with. Better stay on your good side, even IF you are a more gentle and meek one.

Leona issss....weird?

Makes fun of you but makes sure you aren't messed with at the same time? Tsundere that drank respect women juice.

Don't hang around him, don't bother him...but also stay out of trouble, if someone bothers you, tell them Leona sent you.

Softer around you and while he does tease you, he never really disrespects you. Distant but not cold.

Azul is intriguied but perhaps wouldn't care too much - unless he can make a deal out of this.

Aren't you tired getting all of this attention? You are magicless and the only girl to boot! Azul can help you...just sign here.

Might try to win your favor by being a suck-up gentleman by calling you Miss (Name). How are you today? Need any help?

Only if you can offer anything useful to him. Like, no offense but you're magicless...and unfortunately not as stupid as ADeuce.

Besides, his gentlemanly acts aren't as genuine as Riddle's.

Floyd has a 50/50 chance of not caring a bit or straight up interested in you because you are female.

Either: Huh? So what, you are just another plankton.

Or: Huh? A fishie swimming against the stream? What's a girl doing here?

However, if you are not interesting enough expect his interest to go down the drain.

If you heavily react to being picked on because you are girl, don't show it. Otherwise Floyd will exploit it like crazy. Will mention how lonely it might be to be the only girl, will pull on your hair, might switch between Shrimpy and Miss Shrimpy or straight up call you girlie or lassie. Kind of a bully but likes you nonethless if you are interesting.

Jade will increase his gentlemanly behaviour 100%!

Is more intrigued by you than Floyd. Oya, oya, what do we have here?

More keen on calling you miss or whatever you prefer and treats you quite nicely, almost like a princess, especially if you are regular at Monstro Longue.

Just as teasing as his brother but more consistent with it. Likes to mess with you but acts less roudy than Floyd but there is still...a certain air to him that makes him even more unbearable than his twin. A weird mix of looking down at you and treating you like you are special.

KALIIMMMM

A good boy 100%. Stupid enough or rather oblivious to notice that you are indeed the only girl here!

Nothing would change to how he treats you honestly. A good guy, a real champ. Is definitely gonna give you nicknames however if you are sweet to him, ending your name with the honorific '-chan' and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Can be very stupid about how your situation might affect you. Treats it like nothing's wrong, cuz there IS nothing wrong!

JAMILLLL

Kinda confused as well? Well, you've been here long enough and are surrounded by good friends so he takes it you are or will be fine.

Still, be careful, okay? There are some meanies out here...he's not saying it out of worry, it is common sense.

Might keep an extra eye out for you but if nothing happens, he'll stop. His priority is Kalim and if you are okay, then everything else is okay, too.

Will tell Kalim to stop being so unaware of your situation. Show a bit of decency, try to see it from her perspective. You are magicless as well so things are sure to be difficult.

Might also ask Ace on how you are doing to get a third party's perspective of things during basketball training. Just as pre-information, nothing more...

Will definietly not ask Floyd. He knows how he is and if the topic turns to be about you and he hears it, he gets all "Heeee, you're talkin' about Shrimpy????"

It's annoying. It's even more annoying how much Floyd wants to annoy you.

Might think of his sister when he sees you and remembers to write to her a bit more frequently.

Epel: "Wait, you are a girl for real?! I thought yer just looked like one, like me! ...O-Or pretended to be one, maybe, I think..."

Squints his eyes reaaaal hard to really identify you. You sure you're a girl? And not just...a pretty boy like him?

Hm, ah shucks. Kinda hoped he might find another cursed soul like him. Well, at least you get it when people treat you a certain way just because of your looks.

Might have an easier time to show you his true self when speaking since you might either see through him easily or because he just knows he doesn't need to pretend in front of you.

He has a feeling you get it.

And when you agree and tell him how cool he is? Aquired yourself immediately a fierce friend (or crush, he kinda liked it when you called him cool...)

Hell, yeah, you get it!

Does actively NOT treat you with you being female in mind. You're one of the boyz. Doesn't want you to feel any different or casted out.

Got your back like crazy. He finds himself feeling more confident around you and will defend you like nothing else. So what if you are a magicless girl?! You're hella cool yourself!

Will call you cool and not cute, even if it isn't accurate.

The most annoying for sure is Rook.

The guy is a romantic at heart and believes it is fate that you came here.

You aren't an outcast! No, you are like a chosen hero! A princess around 22 twisted villains~ How exciting! Doesn't it make your heart beat faster?!

'Mademoiselle' is thrown at you constantlyyyy. The moment you hear the word you know Rook is around the corner, watching you. Weirdly nice and romantic towards you. He truly does believe you being in NRC is something special. He cannot help but gush about it!

When it comes to special events, he offers to prepare you for it with outfits or make-up. He's creative and sees you as his canvas and believes that no matter will be done or not, you will look beautiful! 100 points!

Vil is *sucks in breath* quick to criticize.

Doesn't truly care...but if you show the slightest bit of interest in fashion and beauty, hooh boy will he be watching.

Means to help but is, uh...mean. So, so, so mean.

But other than that...I don't think he'd care? HE is the fairest of them all...and you are just a potato.

Huh? Oh no, is this some shojo manga and you are the heroine getting a reverse harem or somethin'?

Idia is...weirded out but as long as he doesn't have to deal with you, he'll be fine.

Until you start getting involved in these overblots and...everything turns out okay? Like in a happy ending of a fairytale?

OMG are you a heroine?

No, he doesn't wanna be part of your harem!

Maaaaybe a bit more shy but just maybe. Will avoid you just as he does to everyone.

When in a good and braver mood, will call you 'heroine' when some 'anime shenanigans' happen as he calls them. If you're confused, will scream internally out of embarassment but also HOW COULD U NOT KNOW THAT TERM U NORMIE

Might call you that more often to mess with you.

Orhto kinda...won't care?

Probably scans you on your first meeting and goes 'yep, indeed f for female'.

As long as you are nice to his brother, all is good. Hey, be his friend too, while you're add it! Pretty please?

Malleus wouldn't care either. You being a magicless girl in NRC is quite curious and he will ask you about that...but no matter what your answer might be, he will listen, maybe take it to heart and set it aside, here and there. He doesn't care much for it.

As long as your bravery and willingness to be his friend remains, he won't ever make a fuss about it. Just be you.

During your meeting he might ask, "Oh? Are you perhaps a witch with a fitting black cat living here now in this abandonded house with a few ghostly roommates? Heh, I jest."

No matter what, you will still be his Child of Man.

If you do end up having trouble in school because you are a girl, he might go to Lilia for advice. He never had to deal with something like this before...shall he burn these bullies to crisps for making you school life difficult?

Lilia secretly agrees but tells him not to.

Other than that, same old Tsunotarou.

Lilia would go like "oh!" and that's it.

Curious, this is unusual for NRC but he is always happy and excited when changes happen.

Like the old man that he is he offers you his advice and help in anything. Even if he is an ancient fae, he is also your senior, so go ahead and ask him, alright?

Will also call you something endearing like Kalim and Rook. Adds the honorific '-chan' to you, definitely.

Very glad you are Malleus' friend, for that you automatically earned his protection. Just call when something's up, k?

Silver first needs to wake up.

huh????? zzz...

Wait, let him wake up...

Still a bit more.

There we go. Now that he is fully awake he realizes you are a girl.

Still somewhat in his dream lands, might wake up and say, "Wait, I didn't dream about a princess...or did I?" when he sees you.

Sometimes he does not fully realize its you when he freshly woke up. Needs to blink away the weariness before he goes "oh."

A tad bit more worried about you than his old man. Anything could happen and while you are in good hands not Crowley Silver sometimes tends to think about your happiness and safety here at NRC. You doing okay with the lessons? The teachers? The classmates? He's willing to offer his protection too, you know.

Perhaps its a knight thing to protect the maidens or smth, i dunno.

HUMAAAN!!!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! THIS IS N R C, SILLY! AN ALL-BOYS-ACADEMY! THERE'S NO 'F' IN THAT!

BUT THERE WILL BE ON YOUR MARKS SINCE YOU SUCK SO MUCH!

A meanie, especially at the beginning since he doesn't believe you belong here.

Magicless at a magic school? Failure.

Female at an all-boys-school? Unaccaptable.

nOT WaKA-SAmA????? A DISGRACE

He will warm up to you though...it takes time. Protective as Silver but not as subtle.

Idiot will scream HOW OF COURSE YOU NEED HIS HELP YOU ARE THE ONLY GIRL HERE! HOW MANY HAVE ALREADY MOCKED YOU, HUH?! CUZ HE CAN PROBABLY COUNT HOW MANY TIMES BUT WOULD NEED 20 HANDS FOR THAT!

Means well but...obnoxious.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #f!reader #f!mc #twst headcanons #smth silly #smth stupid #my days have been hell i need this #twst x f!reader

[another-lost-mc]

Hi! I’ve never requested before but I’ve just been thinking about mammon x reader x levi (not mammon and levi with each other obviously) nsfw like what if they’re playing video games together and start to get jealous over mc getting cuddly with the other brother and then smut ensues💕💕. Ignore this if you don’t want to do it/aren’t comfortable with it!!

A/N: I have no problem writing the demons sharing MC as part of a poly!ship. Tag-teaming is kind of hot, right? And let's be real, most of the stuff I write with the twins ends up twisting that way by the end. I've written Mammon x Reader x Levi before (no demoncest obv) so let's pretend this is a little snapshot from the same AU. Their dynamic together is so much fun.

MAMMON x gn!Reader x LEVIATHAN, 1.2k words, NSFW / MDNI

Content/warnings: a little Levi-centric. Contains oral sex, teensy bit of tail-fucking, fingering.

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening together. Mammon is pressed against your back, his chin hooked over your shoulder so he can watch you and Levi play video games. Levi rests comfortably on the floor at your feet, rocking lightly with excitement as he wins the third race in a row. You were so focused on not driving off the rainbow track that you barely noticed the ticklish sensation of smooth scales sliding up your leg and inching up your thigh.

Tonight is Mammon's turn to take you to bed, and he's been fidgeting with the waistband of your pants for the past hour. He was probably hoping your gaming session with Levi would end and his brother could leave. Maybe he wanted to entice you to play a different type of game—one that involved a lot less clothing and watching you bounce on his cock—but he spots Levi's tail gliding across your legs and the fighting begins. You try to break it up as gently as you can—it's not that big of a deal, is it? Levi shakes his head no while Mammon yells of course it is, it's not his turn!

You spent last night in Levi's room. Sometimes he sleeps in your bed instead, but last night he had a raid event and you wanted to be close by to keep him company even if you fell asleep. He felt bad waking you up at some ungodly hour, but he was so thrilled about killing a new raid boss that he just had to tell you. You might not like all the same games as him, but that doesn't stop you from being his number one fan.

He leaned over the edge of his tub and giggled bashfully when you cupped his cheeks and peppered his face with little celebratory kisses. Quick pecks against his lips turned into a heated, desperate kiss when he moaned and licked into your mouth. You tugged his shirt collar and urged him to climb into the tub with you, and he pulled down your sleep pants enough so he could snake his hand and his tail between your legs. It didn't take long for him to coax the first orgasm from you when the tip of his tail teased your hole with the promise of more. He was still licking your cum off his fingers when you pulled down his sweatpants and sucked his cock into your mouth, teasing your gag reflex and choking yourself on his length. He tried to keep his hips from thrusting too deep into the soft, wet heat of your mouth, and when he warned you that he was close, you took him as deep so he came down your throat.

You spent the next hour groping each other and and making out while trying to take off the remaining clothes that kept getting in the way. His cock was hard and throbbing with the overwhelming desire to be inside you, and he finally tore off your underwear and flipped you onto your knees to fuck you from behind. You rolled your hips and met each of his rough, erratic thrusts, the hard smack of his thighs against your ass adding to the lewd sounds of your body squelching obscenely around his cock. He emptied himself inside you and watched his cum leak down your thighs before you both collapsed in a sweaty, sticky pile on top of his blankets. You drifted off to sleep with his quiet snores in your ear and his tail wrapped possessively around your thigh.

Their little spat over Levi's adventurous tail threatens to derail an otherwise perfect day. Sometimes Levi's tail instinctively curls around you if you're close enough. You don't mind at all, but apparently Mammon does. Mammon and Levi start bickering about getting worked up over something so stupid and you had your chance last night, so fuck off. You love them both dearly, but sometimes they can be viciously stubborn, and greedy, and jealous. But that's part of why you love them so much, isn't it?

You sigh loudly and dramatically to get their attention. They both shut up instantly and look a little confused, especially when you turn your head suddenly and kiss Mammon over your shoulder. He grunts when your lips press against his, but he opens his mouth with a groan as he returns your kiss with ravenous hunger. Levi shuffles awkwardly at your feet, but you catch the tip of his tail resting on your knee and slide it back into the warm gap between your thighs. He seems to get the hint and you smile against Mammon's mouth when Levi's tail tickles your inner thighs and presses against the warm space between your legs. He rubs you through your sleep pants and it's embarrassing how wet you are already; there's soft little squelching sounds as your clothes grow damp from your arousal. You rock your hips to increase the friction of his tail against your skin, but the feeling is muted, dulled by too many layers of clothing.

"Greedy little thing, aren't ya, Treasure?" Mammon murmurs against your mouth when he breaks the kiss. He huffs in amusement when you try to chase his lips, but his gaze rakes over your heaving chest and down the bed where you're rutting against the hard, unyielding curve of Levi's tail. Levi is on his knees in front of you, smoothing his palms up and down your calves while he sucks little marks into the delicate skin of your thighs. He glances at you and Mammon from beneath his lashes, and his orange eyes glow slightly as they brighten with excitement and lust.

Mammon grips the hem of your t-shirt and tugs it over your head. Levi licks his lips and drinks in the delectable sight of your bare chest and soft tummy. His tail flicks one last time against the damp spot forming between your legs before it curls just over the top of your knee instead. You whine at the sudden loss of heat and friction, but Mammon's hot breath ghosts across your ear and he tugs your ear lobe between his teeth. His hand slips under the waistband of your pants and he strokes you instead, gathering the slick arousal pooling at your slit and spreading it with his fingers. You reach back and reach into his soft, snowy white hair and tug roughly as you buck your hips against his hand and whine his name. His finger circles lazily around your entrance and you arch your back against him while your insides clench pitifully around nothing.

Mammon smirks at Levi over your shoulder and a flicker of silent understanding passes between them. No matter how much they argue, they usually don't get too carried away. They would never want their little squabbles to get in the way of pleasing you. "I'm feeling a little generous after all, babe," he murmurs against your neck before he licks a stripe up the delicate column of your throat. "He can stay and watch, and if he can keep his tail to himself, he can have you next."

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #mammon x mc #leviathan x mc #mammon x you #leviathan x you #obey me poly mc #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[cloudcountry]

you octopi my thoughts.

Genre/Tropes: Mutual Pining!! Also we have a little kabedon moment at the beginning so we're starting off strong!! C:<

Summary: I have another brain wave/request! Would you mind doing a flirty/a MC who’s not afraid to make bold advances?

Author's Comments: PLEASE I'd be such a menace. Azul would hate me because I'd flirt with him all the time.

~~~~~

“Oh Azuuul!”

The student in question braced himself for your presence, letting out a deep sigh as his cheeks flushed. Your incessant flirting had only gotten worse over the past week, and it had gotten to the point where just hearing your voice could turn his cheeks red. It was an endless source of amusement for Jade and Floyd, and he resented you for it.

“What is it, Prefect?” he adjusted his glasses, giving you the coolest gaze he could manage.

The facade he tried to put up immediately shattered when your hand slammed into the wall behind him, your eyes bright with mischief. A strangled yelp tore from his throat at your close proximity, your face only getting closer to his as you smirked.

“It’s my afternoon, Azul.” you hummed, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, “It’s so dreadfully empty. I have nothing to do!”

“Hm. Maybe you should study for the upcoming history exam.” Azul couldn’t stop himself from wetting his lips anxiously, ignoring the furious pounding of his heart in favor of holding your gaze.

“What if I want to study marine biology instead?” you shot back, leaning even closer—there was practically no space in between you two anymore.

“You can consult-” he stopped himself from suggesting that you see Jade or Floyd, a flare of jealousy making him reconsider, “...Nevermind.”

“Who? Who can I consult for this lesson? I’d like to know about octopi…their camouflage, their hunting habits, the way they show interest in potential mates…” you lowered your voice to a whisper, a light giggle ending your trailing sentence.

“Well…I…” Azul cursed his stuttering heart, the sound of blood rushing in his ears doing nothing to quiet the thundering noise of his heart.

“But oh well.” you pulled away suddenly, eyes dropping to his tie as you pinched it in between your fingers, “I suppose if your afternoon isn’t free, then I’ll have to find something else to do. Something boring and lonely.”

“If it’s a study session…I suppose I can make time. Show up at the Mostro Lounge after your classes and I’ll see what we can do.” he blurted, flushing a brilliant shade of red as you twisted his tie around in your fingers.

“Lovely! Now maybe you’ll stop octopi-ing my thoughts!” you laughed loudly, releasing his tie and smoothing down the front of his uniform in one fluid motion, “It’s a date, then. See ya, Azul! Thank you!”

You practically jumped away from him, bouncing down the hallway without looking back at him. Azul adjusted his tie nervously, staring after you until you turned down a corner. What was he going to do with you? This couldn’t keep happening-

“Having fun, boss?” Floyd giggled, popping up from behind him.

“It seems like he is.” Jade hummed, showing up from his other side.

“It’s nothing like that.” Azul insisted, beginning his walk to class with the eels hot on his tail, “Don’t mention this to anyone. It’s not important.”

“I dunno…I think it’s octopi-ing your thoughts!” Floyd mimicked your voice, batting his eyelashes flirtatiously.

Jade chuckled as Azul’s face burst into another blush, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the nearby classroom door.

“Go to class you two!” he shrieked, shooing the brothers away.

Azul had never walked faster into a classroom in his life, the cackles of the brothers and your voice ringing in his skull. Great Sea Witch, he’d never get you out of his head, would he?

#auburn's fics <3 #azul ashengrotto deserves so many hugs #i love him #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #fluff #they're in love your honor #flustered azul >>>>

[shotmrmiller]

i usually am a silent watcher , i.e. likes + reblogs ( + bombing my friend's messages w/ your shots ) but i just got thia thought and i have to spill it ! 😭

remember the post about ps!simon taking longer than usual and that's because he's watching mc's videos have been living in my head rent free , and i can't help but think about him receiving a notif about you starting a live , and in his hurry he accidentally ends up using his personal ( i.e. GHOST ) account!

due to your unresponsiveness to his messages , he kinda sticks to being quiet at the beginning, simply jacking his own cock off , but as he watches your lips part and your body bounces on the dildo , he can't help , kissing his teeth and typing with one hand in a flurry , his eyes slightly hooded and focused solely on you! hell , he isn't even looking at the keyboard!

GHOST : you're doing good as always

GHOST : fuck , my favourite girl , can't get off without you

GHOST DONATED $$$$

GHOST : i heard you last time , please moan my name again 💦

and these comments would've been lost within the chat unseen as per usual with his other account , others commenting the same things , who would care! but this time? the commenters ?

### : is that THE ghost ?

@@@ : fuck , even ghost is watching Y/N , that's the pussy power

*** : i guess even pornstars have their own favourite pornstars , fuck ghost chose well

the chat is going in an uproar , but the pretty horny you is too busy chasing her high , your eyebrows furrow, your glossed lips let out loud whines and breathy moans , and the noise of the donations coming through only makes you rub your own clit faster till you're seeing white and cumming all over the fake dick , whining lowly "hnghh, g-ghost, please..."

only when you're done twitching and twisting with that aftershock do you look at the screen and your mouth falls agape

cAN YOU IMAGINE!?!!

WHAT DOES GHOST DO AFTER HE ACCIDENTALLY DID THAT?? WHAT DOES MC DO!?!!;?;?! THE PEOPLE GOING MAD IN THE COMMENTS OF YOUR LIVE, IN THEIR OWN ACCOUNTS, SCREENSHOTS ARE CIRCULATING TWITTER , INSTA , TUMBLR , EVERY OTHER PLATFORM KNOWN TO MAN!?! DOES THE COMPANY TRY TO COVER UP THIS SCANDAL , OR do they use it as a way to recruit mc to simon , perhaps if he got his hands on her he might get back to performing like before ;) (he does. except he only performs with her now)

( i hope it wasn't too long? i usually just pitch a tiny idea and run , but i , uh , idk what came over me- plus , I don't use those sites so i have no idea how that works exactly and i hope they don't "announce" who joined the live like they do in IG , uhhh , okok , this is it , byyyee!! 😭✨✨✨ )

there's no hiding. he'll tell his manager that it really was an honest mistake, but you've been ignoring all of his emails and he's up to his forehead with pent-up sexual frustration. it works though :>

he's got your attention now.

there wouldn't be any recruiting because she doesn't wanna be seen by anyone. it's just her and her phone at home. people are scummy and no one will hold shit over her head. this is where he shows up at her house with sweaty palms and rosy cheeks (he's so desperate to get his hands on reader that his vision's blurring lmao)

[palmastrings]

The Seven Deadly... Rings?!?!

@nocreativityfornames you're a genius I'm just gonna go ahead and swipe this and *eats*

original post here

Essentially what if we started Nightbringer but we also had the brothers in tow in the form of rings.

No, I didn't spell check this, I'm don't write very often so excuse any weirdness. I suck at grammar and ignore spell check.

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

Solomon holds his hand out expectantly, presenting to you a handful of exquisite multicolored rings. 7 to be exact. Each one a familiar face, in a somewhat familiar time.

Honestly, this isn't really that astounding by any means. When living in the Devildom, you've come to expect even the most unexpected situations. The rings were probably the least surprising thing you've heard today, seeing as how you had mysteriously been thrown across time and space and landed in the Devildom... approximately 7,000 years ago. Maybe? Nobody is really good at saving dates around here, especially when the average demon lifespan stretches from now to, basically, the end of time itself. A slight over exaggeration? Again, maybe. But in your defense, in your feeble mortal eyes, that's what it may as well be.

The rings jingle in your hand as you tentatively scoop them from Solomons cold hand.

Apon first glance, they would appear to be normal rings. Pristine, each gold band is fitted with a unique colored stone matching those of the beloved demons from your normal timeline. Although, if you really focused on it, twisting the bunch of them in your palm with your fingers, you could feel how warm the metal is. It was as if someone had worn the rings before you, even though it should not have been possible, as you would be the first to bear them. Along with the warm glow of the rings, you could faintly feel an intense pulsing sensation coming from the set. Whether or not it came from what could possibly be a rapid heartbeat or the emanating pulse of horrific eldritch powers, you couldn't tell.

You go to slip them on your waiting fingers until Solomon interrupts you.

"I will warn you Mc, they were terribly rowdy before I turned them into rings, I don't blame you if you find them overwhelming to wear."

"Thanks for the warning, Solomon. I appreciate you coming all this way to help me by the way!"

"Anything for my favorite apprentice! Oh! And put in the good word for me!" Solomon winks. He turns, presumably to go and survey the Devildom of millennia ago. You're eternally grateful he went through all this trouble, not only to willingly throw himself across time and space, but to also take the time to bring along the demon brothers.

You insert each hoop onto your fingers. They fit perfectly, made just for you to wear. For a moment, there is silence. You almost begin to doubt they're even there. The only sign of anything unusual is the pulsing jewelry around your fingers, seeming to wane slowly, just until it matches your own heartbeat. Then the screaming.

"Mc! Did I hurt you at all?"

"Can you hear me?! What happened?

"AHHH, I can't believe you met me while I was in my blunder years! Wahhh!! I'm so embarrassed!!"

"Oi! Human what the hell?! What were you thinking just vanishing like that?"

"Mc, why did you leave?"

"Hon, you nearly gave me a heart attack when I heard youd gone missing! Lets go home asap!"

"..."

Suddenly, you weren't so alone in your head. A barrage of questions, sobs, and abnormal talk of urgency was flung straight in your direction. You could practically visualize the tearful Levi. The clear image of the batting white eyelashes of Mammon as he looks worried at you. Along with what's definitely becoming a new wrinkle on Lucifers face as you listen to him interrogate you. It was almost relieving to hear them speak with such familiarity to you. After being treated like a stranger not too long ago, this felt like you had brought a piece of home with you in this strange version of the Devildom.

Maybe, just maybe in the strange place, in this strange time you could make the most of it. With a sorcerer and the seven rings at your side you may just be able to tackle the newly fallen brothers of the past, the new ruling power of the Devildom, Diavolo, and finally find out why you were sent here by the one called, Nightbringer.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me solomon #obey me anime #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #any tips on writing the bros is greatly appreciated #How ethical would it be to kiss a past demon bro if youre also wearing the current demon bro? #Genuenly tho #hope i dont get cured lol #i kinda gave up at the end sorry #how to write??? #i fr gotta re play nightbringer because since the ending of season 2 iv just be loggin on to get ap and jobs #uh

[to-the-stars8]

Chasing The Memory of You

Summary: In his grief, Asra begins to see you everywhere. Now, he's chasing your fading memory AO3

Asra x MC

Asra made a point to never speak of you, even when asked by the remaining townsfolk he would not answer fully, instead opting to dance around any mention of your existence. It made it easier for him, not to forget you, but to forget the constant reminders that plagued his life. When he avoided the questions about you from the baker, he was saved from the memory of just how much you admired the pumpkin bread. Or, when he ignored the jewelry merchant when she mentioned how a new shipment of your favorite stones had just come in, so he wouldn’t have to picture the stones around your neck. 

He needed to be focused, working on bringing you back to satisfy the insatiable desire to have you near. Avoiding all memories of you prevented him from falling to the floor in agony. So, when he received a letter from the palace requesting his presence, he was relieved. There would be no reminders of you since, to his knowledge, no one in the palace knew you nor vice versa. Luckily, that had been the case for the longest time. Despite the grief, he managed to make progress in not only bringing you back but also letting the sadness settle. He made friends, Nadia and Ilya, and even began to feel fleeting moments of genuine happiness. 

Then, one night, as he was walking back to his rooms after a rendezvous with Ilya, he thought he saw you. Asra had been passing a balcony on the stretch of landing that passed over the ballroom when he saw a glimpse of you, or what he thought was you, standing and looking up at the stars. When he did a double take, there was nothing, just the sound of the harsh wind hitting the glass doors that led out. Shaking his head, Asra assumed that he must have been tired from the day. 

He wouldn’t have thought any more of it, especially since he had finally managed to get some sleep, until he saw some apparition of you again. This time it had been in broad daylight. Asra had been walking the grounds with Nadia, laughing and joking. 

“I could not have picked a more foolish husband, could I?” Nadia jested. 

Asra was going to respond, but, just as they had turned a corner in the maze of rose bushes, he saw you running from another corner behind a tree. When a lack of a response was noticed, Nadia inquired about what was wrong. He was surprised that she had not seen what he just did.

“Did you not see…Um, nevermind.” Asra shook his head. The grief, he reasoned, must have been messing with him, so he tried to carry on the conversation. “I think Lucio is the most foolish husband anyone could find. Not to mention gaudy.”

Nadia, hesitantly, replied. Asra looked over his shoulder, half-expecting to see you, but there was nothing. It left his heart feeling a little heavier. He hoped this would be the last time misery would play with him. 

Unfortunately, hope was a fickle thing when it came to grief and madness. 

Asra was sitting on the terrace with Nadia and Ilya, talking about all sorts of things that had no significance in the long run but were a joy to talk about. They were all laughing about one thing or another when suddenly, amidst their laughter, was the sound of yours. The same light and heavenly sounds that Asra had heard thousands of times. Once he heard it, he turned to look over his shoulder, expecting you to be there in a fit of giggles. Yet, there was nothing but the wall.

All at once, he felt grief and fear through his body. The laugh that echoed sounded too real to be a figment of grief’s imagination. Standing suddenly, Asra decided it would be best to put an end to the taunting haunt. Excusing himself, he walked toward the first place he saw your ghost, on the balcony. 

Upon entering the ballroom the echo of your laugh bounced off the walls, filling it with a familiar, enchanting melody that only your happiness could provide. Calling out your name, Asra looked around, but the room suddenly fell into silence. It was deafening and he begged the stars to stop it. 

The stars listened and answered cruelly. “Asra!” Your voice called. 

Asra would have fallen to the ground in grief if it weren’t for the sight of you running up the grand staircase. You were dressed in the same clothes as the day you first met. Calling your name, Asra begged you to wait. 

“Please, my love,” He said. “Stop running.”

The only response was your laugh. Asra never knew that a sound that brought him so much joy, could also bring pain. When you got to the top of the stairs, you stopped to look down at him—Only then did he realize it was not really you. You stood there, almost as real as day except the moonlight coming through the window cut through you like you were made of translucent glass.

It was almost like you were fading. 

Though he wasn’t entirely sure why, Asra suddenly wanted to make you whole again. He could not let this image of you fade from him—Not when he barely had time to cherish it.

After a moment, you ran off again, and he lost sight of you when you turned onto the balcony. Finally, Asra thought, he could catch this moonlit apparition of you. When he ran onto the balcony there was nothing there except the autumn wind, the stars, and moon. Asra called your name again, but the desperation got caught in the breeze; leaving no one to hear the yearning for you. 

Reduced to his grieving madness, Asra fell to the floor in a mess of tears. Clenching his hands over his heart, he swore to the stars to never love again and that his heart, all of him, belonged to you and you alone.

He’d chase the fading memory of you until he succeeded in bringing you back, or died trying.

#nadia the arcana #asra the arcana #the arcana asra #the arcana #the arcana game #asra alnazar #asra x apprentice #asra x mc #asra x reader #asra x julian #nadia satrinava #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #portia the arcana #asra angst #lucio the arcana #past mc x asra #the arcana apprentice

[rosewould]

a bet and a promise; jcm

🖱️⤻ pairing; afab!reader x fratboy!q 🖱️⤻ word count; 6.2k 🖱️⤻ genre; smut 🖱️⤻ synopsis; your friends have a serious gambling problem and they've created a betting system so punishing that you have no choice but to play along. unbeknownst to them, they've just forced you to interact with someone you've been trying to avoid 🖱️⤻ warnings; q is a fuckboy, dubcon (q pushes mc's head back down when you try to come up but mc is okay with it), dom!q, sub!reader, reader is slightly bratty, piv, pet name (bunny), brief fingering, blowjob, brief face fucking, breast play, cowgirl then missionary, q can be casually cruel, reader is also slightly a pushover

⌨️⤻ I love asshole the boyz idk about you. Also I love how dramatic mc is in this lmao.

Your friends take good care of you. They’re perceptive and protective so there’s no getting away with hiding that you’re hurt about something. You’re thankful for them. Here’s the thing, your friends also love a good bet.

“Missy… you’re up!” Kim Jimin delivers a swift pat to your back that makes you jolt forward. You’re completely lost, and looking around at the circle of girls does nothing to help. “Up?”

“I bet fifty bucks you won’t go up to Ju Haknyeon and do aegyo.” She leans forward with a sinister smile. And so the game begins. You’re somewhat new to the group, so they agreed to spare you for now. Turns out “for now” is over.

You cautiously glance over at Haknyeon and his frat buddies. They’re a rowdy bunch, raising their red solo cups as they engage in loud conversation. They’d ridicule you until you ran home crying for sure.

“Come on, be serious.” Lee Soojin elbows Jimin, making her perk up. “What? It’s been long enough.” You let out an exhale of relief. Of course Soojin would step in, the logical and caring person she is. 

“No, not that. Ju Haknyeon is easy.” Soojin scoffs.

Her words nearly cause you to crumble to the floor. They were going to kill you tonight. This was your first bet for god sake. 

“That is not true! He would laugh right in her face.”

“You guys are so cruel.” You whine and they immediately ignore you. “Yeah, but you know who’ll be way better?” Soojin leans in but her eyes are focused on the rowdy boys. “Ji Changmin.”

You feel as though your heart had fallen out of your ass and splattered onto the waxed wooden floors. 

“Hey…” Park Soeun finally adds more to the conversation than reactionary noises. She gives you a quick look to check how you were fairing. You were staring at nothing with your mouth lolled open like your face had gone numb. She winces before looking to Soojin and Jimin. “What about Lee Jaehyun? That would be fun right?”

Jimin and Soojin ponder for a moment. “I can see him snickering and going “what the hell?” which could be fun.” Soojin considers. They’re all so casual about sending you to potential social suicide.

“But that’s not as good as Changmin. That would be stellar.” Both girls exchange a look that communicates how golden this bet is. Soeun sighs beside you, giving you a comforting rub on your back but nothing could soothe the imprint Jimin’s hand left. 

“I wanna spice it up though. I bet one hundred dollars she will go through with it.” Soojin raises her eyebrows and is met with a surprised sound from Jimin. “Now we’re talking. But you do know if you lose you’re in the trenches with her?”

“I’m confident on this one.”

“You guys have a serious gambling problem!” You finally pipe up after shaking your initial shock

“Shaddup.” Jimin pushes you out of the comfort of the circle. The outside world is so cold, full of unfamiliar faces and opportunities for awkward conversation. But most of all, facing Changmin again. As you inch slowly toward the group you see his figure on the opposite side of their circle. A lollipop stick hangs loosely from his lips, a flash of orange pops through when he adjusts his tongue. 

He had a lollipop on that chilly night, too. The last Saturday of October and the last time you were at a party. You’re convinced he scared you from them for good. You didn’t like them in general, but you fought through your introversion for your friends. It took a lot of begging and offerings to get you to this one. You kept asking why they couldn’t just go without you but now it’s very obvious. Parties are the perfect place for painful bets. The more painful the bet, the more likely the bet maker will get paid.

Bets were not the reason you ran into Changmin. Poor Jungeun was the victim that night. You were looking for a bottle of liquor she requested to get her through her dare. The kitchen was completely empty making you wonder if the closed floor plan made it more discreet. It was dark but you used your flashlight to look amongst the bottles for the one she requested. 

All you heard were loud voices approaching before bodies started bumping against you. The kitchen was at full capacity in no time and people had the nerve to cram in even more. As if they couldn’t tell there were already too many people there. You cradled the bottle in your hand and wondered how the hell you were going to get out. People were pushing themselves flush against you without a care in the world. 

An elbow flying way too close to your eye socket made you throw all caution to the wind and start pushing people. They couldn’t see anyway, and you were politely mumbling “excuse me’s” on your way out. You used counters bordering the kitchen to map your escape when you run headfirst into somebody. Already annoyed by how reckless people were being you groan loudly to clearly communicate your irritation. Why hasn’t someone turned the lights on by now?

“Someone’s having a bad time.” 

For a second you didn’t recognize the voice of the man you ogle at for an entire lecture. The same man you’ve dedicated pages and pages of your diary to. “No, but it’d be nice if people used their brains for one second.” The moment you stop speaking a blinding light was being shone on your face.

“You couldn’t be talking about me, right sweetheart?”

The light inhibited your vision but the sound of his smooth-tongued affect was enough for you to identify him. Your brain filled in the blanks of his crooked grin and gaze with a hint of condescension. Everything about him should turn you off but there's just something about him.

Your attempt at sentences is cut short when the lights finally come on, long after you actually wanted them to. Now Changmin can take in your pathetic body language in all its glory. He just scoffs, as if in disbelief at who had gotten smart with him. “Are you always this rude to strangers?”

“I– I w– um…” You were downright panicking and it sent your brain into overdrive. Coming up with a response was hard when all you could focus on was how warm he felt pressed against you. The firm plane of his chest had no choice but to be in direct contact with your arms cradling the liquor. A person behind you knocks you even closer so your faces are nearly touching.

“You really hurt my feelings,” Changmin feigns emotional turmoil before dropping it almost immediately. “you should give me that alcohol as a repayment.”

“No, I’m giving this to my friend.” There they were, your first coherent words to Ji Changmin, the man of your fucking dreams. Well, not really, your first sentence was even worse.

“You just keep wounding me, princess.” He pops his lollipop from his mouth before sliding a finger under your chin to lift your face. “How are you gonna make up for it?” His lips coasted along yours making your brain completely useless. Your heart was beating so fast that you considered going to the hospital. The two of you being so close to kissing did a lot of things to you and none of them were good.

You imagined meeting Ji Changmin in the kitchen of a house party time and time again like they do in movies. You both would complain about how parties suck and you’d be uncharacteristically smooth until he throws you over his shoulder and takes you into a vacant bedroom. This was nothing like you imagined. It was humiliating and he was reveling in it. You knew he was an asshole but you were too naive to think he’d do anything to upset you. 

“I-I gotta get this to her-”

“At least promise you’ll make up for how rude you were.” He pouts and you feel your ears start burning hot.

You barely escaped with your dignity but you finally managed to get out of that hot, sweaty hell hole. You promised him, of course, but only because you prepared to avoid him like the plague. He probably laughed about you and your stupid shocked face with his friends. 

You take your time getting close to him because the minute you’re face to face it would confirm whether or not he sees you as some big joke. Chickening out on the bet was not an option because not only would you have to fork up your meager paychecks, but it’ll also be your turn again and again until you properly follow through with one. They’re going to know if you don’t actually walk up to him. They can see on either side of their huddle. The only blindspot was right in front of Changmin. And what were you gonna do, just awkwardly stand in front of him and hope he doesn’t say anything?

Every option felt like pure torture. He and his friends already think you’re pathetic. They’d probably be so confused, thinking you officially lost it. You physically cringe as you imagine going through with this. You were getting embarrassed regardless, but there was no way in hell you were doing aegyo.

Since they couldn’t see you, they were going to go up and ask Changmin if you actually did it, so there was only one solution. You plant yourself in front of him with a huff, gathering the tiny bit of courage in your body to look at him.

He chuckles as he takes you in, leading everyone else in the huddle to look at you. “Looking extra sexy tonight baby.” Sangyeon whistles and you break eye contact. Before he can even say anything to make you give up you rush out your request.

“My friends are making me do aegyo in front of you for a bet and I refuse to do so so could you just tell them I did when they ask you okay thank you bye-”

A chorus of wary woah’s make it hard to leave but you still try, your suddenly stiff legs stepping away from the group. They’re causing commotion so that’s good, makes it look like you did what you were dared to.

“Why should I.” Changmin raises his voice over the commotion and actually makes you stop. Shit, that was your one out and you never considered he would reject you. Of course he would. You’re a nobody trying to order him around. You turn back, your tail between your legs as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“It’s just a stupid bet, I know you don’t care anyway.” You try to appeal to his nonchalant image but he immediately shoots it down. “No, I meant why should I help you when you didn’t follow through on our promise.” He ends his questions like a statement and you can’t help but think you’re not supposed to answer. He’s just pointing things out, he doesn’t want to hear your excuses. 

“I-I’m sorry, I got really busy and I just never saw you again.” Your tone is unconvincing but it might just work. He probably never noticed you before you met in the kitchen. “Ah,” Changmin steps toward you, away from the huddle where everyone can see. “So you’ve been too busy to come find me?” He coos as he brushes your hair out of your face. You flinch away subconsciously but he doesn’t retract his hand, something you’re quietly grateful for. As his eyes rake over your features you can’t help but block out the noise in this intimate little moment. He’s fucking with you, you’d have to be an idiot not to see, but you can’t help your breath being taken away as his fingers coast across your jaw.

“But you still manage to stare at me for the entire duration of our class together. Kinda like you’re doing now.” His more assertive words shatter the illusion you just made for yourself, letting all the noise break through and overwhelm you as you grapple with your mortification. Blood can’t even rush to your face, you’re way past acute embarrassment. The feeling of everyone looking at you and every laugh possibly being directed at you makes it difficult to do anything other than look around, rooted in your spot. “Let’s revisit the promise, shall we?”

You’re back to looking at Changmin and his raised brows but you can’t focus. You run out of the frat house and suck in the fresh air. You plant your hands on your knees as you huff, laughing derisively. You were stupid if you thought you’d be able to avoid him forever. And you were even more stupid if you thought you could convince him to go along with your plan. Why you were the ultimate dumbass? You thought that maybe Changmin would’ve been courteous to you. Maybe he didn’t tell his friends and laugh at your expense. Clearly you’re just a desperate joke to him. Well, there goes another crush.

“Hey, need a ride.” Changmin jogs out beside you, smiling to illustrate just how guiltless he was. He had discarded his lollipop at some point, but the orange stain on his tongue remained. You stand up straight, attempting to fix him with a serious look but your self-pity seeps through.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about this.” You raise your arms in confusion before letting them fall back to your sides. “Your friends aren’t here right now, so you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

"It’s not about them. What's funny is how hard you're trying to hide that you wanna fuck me." 

Now you feel the blood rushing to your face as you gasp. “No, I- it’s not funny, Changmin.” You insist, but you can’t quite get the bite you desperately need.

“I'm serious.” Changmin steps in front of you and keeps you from leaving with a complicated expression that you try to unravel. “You at least wanna kiss me. I don't understand why you're holding back, just do it." He steps forward as if to egg you on. You open your mouth to protest, but you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips as if you’re insane enough to consider it. Is this why he fucks with you? Because he’s waiting for you to act on your urges? Or he thinks that if he picks at you enough you’ll jump him out of pure frustration. Your heart kicks at your ribcage, alerting you to how much it’s working.

Changmin pushes in only an inch closer until you have nowhere to look but his sultry gaze. You gasp silently, feeling arousal take root and blur your reasons for apprehension. The two of you seem to magnetize, slowly drawing nearer until you only slightly feel his lips. Your heart leaps and your brain screams at you to just devour him already.

“Go Changmin!” His huddle had traveled outside in search of him, hooting and hollering at what they see. You snap away, ducking your head and covering your lips as if it’ll conceal anything. Jimin is the first of your friends to push through the huddle before they’re all speed walking toward you. “Hi Changmin! Can we talk to our girl?” Jimin says in a high voice that’s very unlike her. She and the rest of your friends seem to be brimming with anxious energy as they look at either of you. 

“Sure.” Changmin smiles before directing a pointed look at you, and you know it’s about that damn promise. Once he’s reunited with his group they crowd around you. You back away, “What is up with you guys?”

“We know you didn’t do the dare.” Jimin starts with her usual tone, bar a little anxiety peeking through. You sigh, wilting as you await their celebration. “Yeah, yeah whatever how much do I owe?”

“We’re gonna drop it.”

Your eyes snap open before you look at Jimin warily. “Why?”

“In the strangest turn of events, you seem very friendly with Changmin now and I just feel like that’s enough turbulence to last you a year.”

–🖱️▷

Your mom might have been right about you being a sexual degenerate. All you did today was masturbate at the thought of Changmin and debate following through on your promise. Everything and one is screaming at you to leave him alone. Your friends even apologized for making you interact with him once they found out about your crush and avoidance of him. With no bet or anything pressuring you to face him again, you should be saying good riddance. 

“At least promise you’ll make up for how rude you were.” He pouts and you feel your ears start burning hot. You’re not even sure what that means and his body against you isn’t helping you think straight. 

“O-okay? I will…” You don’t know what you agreed to but it was fine. You already decided you’d never speak to him again. He looks down at you like he’s unimpressed with your answer. “You will what?”

“I’ll… make up for it?” You drop your confusion with a frustrated sigh.

“How about this, if I can’t have this bottle, maybe you can get me a different drink.” He stops to pull his lollipop from his mouth. He moves it to yours, tapping it against your bottom lip. You focus on the deep brown of his irises as you wordlessly poke out your tongue and scoop it into your mouth. “At your place. Promise?”

It was bad, really bad. You forgot where you were, sucking on the ball of candy he just had in his mouth while your mind went to downright deplorable places. But the bliss was oh so sweet. Drowning in his eyes while your stomach dissolved into a pit of lava. You craved that feeling again, and you need to feel more than a whisper of his lips. 

He wrote his number on your hand and you let him. Mostly because you were transfixed with how he held the cap of the marker in his teeth. Of course he kept a marker to write down his number in his pocket, because that’s who you were dealing with. This is the same man that made Hyunjin cut her hair off and cry during your morning lecture after he broke things off. Thinking about his effect on you makes tears and a pixie cut seem worth it. Just a little taste, that’s all.

You pull up his contact where his number resided for “safekeeping” and open a new conversation. 

___: I wanna make good on my promise

You chew on your lip, plopping on your couch but keeping your eyes trained on the screen. Milliseconds felt like years as you waited for a response. Your body was already getting excited at the idea of seeing him again. And feeling him in ways you had to stop your mind from wandering to during class. 

Changmin: good ;) I’m free in about 20 mins, is that too soon?

In a last ditch effort to preserve your dignity, you wait, ignoring your core screaming at you to hurry the fuck up. This man could very well ruin your life, the least you could do is make yourself seem less keen. You’re proud of yourself for making him wait this long in the first place. 

___: nope, I wanna prove I’m not a promise breaker

Changmin: of course you aren’t

Changmin: that would make you bad news

Maybe you are with the things you’re fantasizing about. A few more texts exchange flirts and your address before your promise is finally fulfilled. Well, not yet. He still has to get here. If milliseconds felt like years, the minutes it took him to get here felt like they were aging you substantially. Technology is advancing, generations are passing, and are those flying cars whizzing by? But it happened, there was a knock at your door. 

Pulling your door open revealed a smirk you should be used to but aren’t. You can’t push past your brain fog of seeing his dark hair hang over his brows to make a coherent sentence. His eyes are already drinking you in and it’s too much to handle. You’re a bit thankful that he lets himself in, closing the door behind him. 

“I-I, you… there’s alcohol in the kitchen, I’ll get it.” You motion disinterestedly behind you, still in a daze while you stare at his torso wrapped in a tight black t-shirt. 

“No,” he says almost under his breath, pulling you closer by your raised arm before grabbing your face. Your body goes limp as he brushes his bottom lip against yours before capturing it in a short kiss. You lean in for more, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pushing him into the door. His hands slide down your back before squeezing your ass through your jeans. Changmin drinks the moan you let out, tongue delving inside your mouth. 

Never had you felt as slutty as you do now, rutting against his crotch in search of friction. He lifts one of his hands to tug on your hair and you open your mouth wider. Your tongues swirl around each other in a lewd display of how turned on you both are. “wasn’t the drink I had in mind.” He mumbles with a smirk, punctuated with isolated pecks before devouring you once more. 

Your hands find their way to his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans before dragging his zipper open. You sink your hand into them, cupping his hot bulge and squeezing which makes him groan. He bites your lip and mirrors your actions. His hand ends up inside your underwear, feeling the embarrassing mess you left behind. “Fuck, were you touching yourself?”

You nod, trying to dive back into his lips but he pulls away. “Thinking of me?” You bite your lip, nervously peaking through your lashes before nodding again. He chuckles before kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally leaving a peck on your lips. The flutter of your heart is undercut by his hand suddenly closing around your throat. “You should’ve waited.” He says so low it’s almost inaudible. 

Strangled noises wiggle their way out but you don’t get to form a syllable before he’s resuming your heated kiss. His fingers push past your swollen lips and spread you wider with a slight ache. His fingers are a little thicker than yours and you didn’t use your dildo tonight. He takes care of that, scissoring you open while he sucks on your tongue. You’ve never moaned so unabashedly before but he brings it out of you with such ease. 

“You made me wait for how long and you couldn’t even wait 20 minutes?” He waits for your response as he stares down at you as if his hand isn’t tightening around your throat. Telling him how long you were actually waiting would make you look better but back talk didn’t seem smart right now.

“‘m sorry.” You croak out before squeezing his bulge again.

“Feel nice?” You can’t tell what he’s referring to until he slips his hand from your pants and cups your hand over his bulge. You nod despite the restriction and he seems pleased. He licks your bottom lip, looking as if he wants to devour you whole. “Lead me to your room.”

He finally lets go of your throat and pulls your hand out of his pants to hold it. With your breathing irregular you guide him to the bedroom. Every resounding thud of your heart feels like it’ll send you to an early grave. You’ve never been so cock hungry in your life. He lets go of your hand and shuts the door behind the two of you. You watch as if in a trance as he takes off his jeans and underwear. He isn’t facing you so you don’t see his hard cock. You take the time to appreciate his ass though. 

Cutting your ogling short, he turns around, and you watch him the entire time he walks over to your bed. He lies on it with his legs spread, so mouthwatering as his long cock stands at attention. He strokes it, fingers grazing over each vein when it should be yours.

“Since you love my dick so much, come play with it. I need to catch up anyway.” His lidded eyes rake up and down your frame, making you feel much barer than you are. You climb onto the bed, crawling up to what you crave most. He drops his hand away and you can hear him let out a soft noise just in anticipation of what you’ll do next. 

Mimicking him moments before, you close your hand around his shaft, core clenching at the groan you’re rewarded with. Situated between his legs, you’re surrounded by his warmth while you pump his hot length. He bucks into your hand each time you drag your fist down. A bead of precum falls from his slit and rolls to the rim of his head. You lick it up, following the trail until your tonguing at his slit. He exhales shakily, watching you with knitted brows. As you press the tip of your tongue against it, saliva travels down and pools where your tongue and his hole meet.

Your pumping becomes more rigorous the more turned on you get from pleasuring him. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, the way he feels against your hand and tongue, or his reactions to you. His soft, rhythmic moans make your stomach flutter. You lift your tongue, watching the strings of your spit and his precum connect the two of you. Impassioned, You dive down and captured his tip in your mouth. He throws his head back as you suck and swirl your tongue. 

You have to move your hand down to compensate for each inch you take in until you pull your hand away completely and feel him at the back of your throat. “You’re so nasty~” He muses about your passionate mouth you assume. Your ears perk up when you hear the sound of paper flipping. Your eyes flit up to see your diary previously and stupidly set on your nightstand in one of his hands. He laughs when he catches you looking, pushing your head back down to choke on his cock when you try to shoot up. 

He bucks into your throat as he keeps you down, face flush as he reads through the pages. “Here it says you want to fuck over and over until there’s so much cum between us that it fuses us together?” He laughs in disbelief. “That’s really disgusting, bunny.”

The mortification you feel merges with your overflowing lust until you can just sputter and moan in response. He lifts your head by your hair, allowing you to speak, but you just want his cock again. 

“Anything to say? Wanna defend your ego?”

“I want you to cum down my throat.” You reply breathlessly. A thick layer of saliva coats your mouth, chin, and starts down your neck.

“That’s about what I expected from someone who’d write shit like this.” He tosses the diary back on the nightstand. “Your brain is rotted from all your lewd fantasies.” Instead of pushing your mouth back on his cock he pulls your body on top of his. “We’re all caught up now.” He gives you a few meager pecks that don’t satisfy you nearly enough. 

You sit up and peel your shirt off your frame and he reaches to fondle your bare chest. Lifting from his lap, you pull off your sweatpants and underwear and toss them to the side. You use your shirt to wipe all the spit from your face and neck and it’s finally time. Though, his hands on your chest prevent you from leaning down and making out with him to your heart’s content.

“I wanna kiss you.” You whine, grinding your crotches together. His jaw quirks open, watching you with a twinkle of endearment in his eye.

“Will you whine and beg for it?”

“I will if you want me to.” It’s the fullest your voice has sounded since he walked through your door. So unabashed in declaring your obedience to him. Content with being under his spell. 

“I love girls like you.” He whispers, still not letting up only squeezing the flesh of your breasts, keeping you in place.

“Please?” You gasp lightly as you rut against his dick.

“Again.” He demands so quietly that you barely hear it. You’re completely immersed in a bubble, feeling separate from everything else as you focus on him. “Please? Please.” You beg shakily, close to your breaking point.

“Sit on it, bunny.” He effectively rejects you and you huff, reaching below you to position his tip under your swollen lips. He flicks lightly at your stiffen buds, pushing them in with a salacious hum when you sink down on him. “Good bunny.”

You sink until you’re fully seated on him, wiggling your ass to contrast with your betrayed pout. You wait and wait, grinding on his cock in the meantime, but he just continues to fondle your tits and deny you his lips. You watch in awe as he moves his lips to your hardened nipples, suckling and licking them all while he watches you smugly. You’ve done nothing but be a good girl. “That’s not fair.” You whine, raising your hips and dropping them down to earn the very reaction you receive. His lips leave your nipple to moan then hiss, grabbing your hips and squeezing them.

“You mad at me?” He asks insincerely, clearly not caring about how he’s torturing you. When you huff he just starts flicking his tongue against your nipples again. You whine, giving up on your pursuit to focus on properly riding him. You bounce on his cock, earning whispered praises as he watches you with satisfaction in his eyes. “Atta girl, keep it up.”

Each drop of your hips sends him plunging so deep you can taste him. It borders on overwhelming but you can’t stop. It seems to have the same effect on him as he clenches his teeth and sinks his nails into your breasts. Focusing on teasing you was hard when your lips were all fat and swollen, encasing his cock in a soft paradise. You don’t see it coming when his hands slip from your breasts, falling forward until your chest to chest. You smile wistfully and brush your thumb over his lips. The slight annoyance on his face from giving in earlier than expected was extremely sexy. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, gasping when he grips your ass and starts slamming you over his cock. 

His presumed plan was working so far, distracting you from getting your way until you finally close the space. Despite his annoyance, he kisses back eagerly, grinning when you can’t keep it up with his incessant pounding. You just rest your lips against his, breathing each other in as you moan helplessly. Something about your pitiful whimpering unleashes a feral side of him. 

“Uh huh? Feel good getting your pussy plowed?” He growls, filling the room with the sound of his cock plunging deep inside you, burying himself to the hilt. The sound of your cunt suckling desperately to milk him for all he’s worth. He bites your lip and tugs at it before grabbing your jaw. “Want me to fill you up until I’m spilling out of your little hole? I can do that for you.” He laughs cruelly, your whines and pleading expression spraying the fire in his groin with gasoline. Your mouth drops open, noises muted as you clench ever tighter around him.

“Gonna cum, bunny?”

You nod incessantly, chasing after your high as if never else ever mattered more in the world.

“Don’t you fucking cum.”

You let out a panicked whimper, “Please??”

“Uh uh.” He shakes his head at you with a threatening glare. “You cum when I say so. You said you’ll do what I want you to. I want you to hold it.”

Hold it? You only heard about this in the filth you consume. It never worked when you actually tried it. You were on a one way train to disobedience and it worried you as much as it thrilled you. “I-I can’t! I can’t!”

“You better.” He delivers a punishing smack to your ass, making it much harder for you. You squirm against him, his arm anchoring you flush against his body. You had no choice but to be this close, to only focus on him and the viscous slam of his hips. The pressure builds fast, faster than your attempts to clear you brain and try not to be a brat. Oh, but being a brat was so tempting. What would a punishment entail? Changmin spanking you, overstimulating you, tying you up? All those sound like wet dreams you’ve had, swearing into your pillow when you woke up and realized it wasn’t real.

And just like that, your hand are clenching his biceps as your cunt spasms around him. You cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a ton of bricks and continuing to loom for longer than you could handle. Your body twitches against his, begging incoherently to be punished.

He flips you onto your back and you smile blissfully, hoping he’ll scold you, slap you. Maybe you liked it when he teased and tortured you. Even before he stepped in your house. 

“What did you say? Punish you?” You go to nod but he grabs your cheeks, squishing them and forcing you to look at him. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Yes. Please.” You breathe. He scoffs. “You can’t help it. Just a desperate whore by nature, huh?” You shake your head and he coos sardonically. “Yeah, I know you can’t.” He delivers a swift slap to you pussy that has you gasping harshly and clamping your legs shut. “Oh, what? I thought you wanted to be punished? Open your fucking legs.” He doesn’t let you open them by yourself all the way, just shoving them open and slapping your mound again. You start to shut them but he glares at you. You whimper and spread them far, clenching your eyes shut. You can hear how full your channel is with your slick, and how saturated your lips are with each smack. The filthy noise bounces off the walls, filling you with even more embarrassment. You can’t turn and hide your head in your shoulder with his hand holding your head still. You just wince and whine, taking your punishment. It’s the least a brat can do.

Once your legs are shaking he places himself between them again, shoving just his tip into the entrance. “I’ll give you what you wanted now.” And with that he bottoms out with a swift slam of his hips, his dick twitching inside you when you squeak. He grabs both your legs and swings them over his shoulder, getting a good look at how each languid roll of his hips affects you. You’re a mess, mumbling and whining like an idiot for his cock. And he loves it. “Good fucking bunny.”

His hips thunder against yours, stuttering once pleasure starts to crawl up his legs like fractal branches of electricity. His eyes roll back, fingering curling into your flesh until his knuckles turn white. You’re even wetter than before, and he can feel you start to clench for dear life again. Getting this worked up to your pussy getting spanked? Changmin really loved girls like you. 

“You love it. You love it when I fuck with you.” His voice cracks slightly, losing all control as his climax starts to sneak up on him. “Yes! Fuck– I love it so much!” Your voice is unstable from his thrusting and from the incoming orgasm shutting down your body. Your confession kicks his climax into high gear, his hips going static as he starts to fills your pussy. He drops your legs and pulls his cock out, spraying it over your folds and then on your lower belly. He moves closer to shoot the rest of his substantial load onto your tits and you hold them up for him.

When he finishes he looks down at you like a painter admiring his latest masterpiece. Maybe it was a little hasty to consider you a keeper, he should know better with how clingy girls get with him, but he couldn't help it. You look so joyous to be covered in his cum, smiling goofily with a hoarse chuckle.

"You're golden, sweetheart." He leans forward and plants a short kiss on your lips.

He was gone as fast as he arrived, but he remained ever present. You were officially chained to the man. Willing to do whatever would make him moan and cum for you like that again. It’s a shame because you really liked your hair.

likes and reblogs are very appreciated! 🖱️⤻ tbz masterlist

#500 #ji changmin #tbz #changmin #q #the boyz #kpop #smut #ji changmin smut #changmin smut #q smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #kpop smut

[juminies]

Hi! I appreciate your blog and love hearing your takes on Jumin, especially his route and characterization. You may have answered this question before, but I was curious to hear your thoughts:

What do you think about Jumin’s normal end?

I’ve thought that it wasn’t too bad, and I appreciated some aspects of it compared to his good end or other canon endings like the Valentine’s Day DLC where he seems to be materialistic and rather than address he didn’t prioritize time with MC he just gave an expensive gift to smooth it over. Basically, I feel conflicted since I know the normal end means he gave up on the business, but I also understood it as him being less materialistic and more focused on spending valuable time with MC, like in the museum scene which I thought was really sweet. MC also seemed to have more autonomy in this normal ending with a job, whereas in the other endings I mentioned MC is just following Jumin or waiting for him to be done with his work.

Thank you! In regards to my general thoughts on NE here you go 💓

I do see where you're coming from with him perhaps seeming a bit materialistic in the Valentines DLC, but the way I see it he planned to surprise MC from the beginning and just had a lot on his plate rather than the gifts being an apology for him being inconsiderate. All of them are thoughtful, purchased over a number of months, and he went out of his way to buy them himself. Plus, if I recall correctly he was actually supposed to be away longer and MC was aware of that already, but he still made the effort to cut his trip short to be with her.

I think part of what is lovely about the good end is having faith in Jumin to love you despite his work rather than him having to prioritise one over the other to an extreme. Both can be important to him. That's okay! And even so he still puts MC first:

("A man who is swayed by emotions and ignores all his responsibilities doesn't deserve a partner like you..." is a reference to how he acts in a normal end!)

As for MC having a job, there is no universe in which Jumin would be against his partner having a job of their own if they wanted one, I promise. Put yourself above everything else, right? More than anything Jumin cares about his wife's happiness, so he would most certainly support anything she wanted to do—job or no job. I sort of address it in the post above but, in my opinion, them working together actually creates a sort of muddy boundary between business and pleasure that both MC and Jumin would definitely be better off without. In an ideal world you can both do your own thing and love each other more than anything despite, despite, despite.

#there's some extra notes from both myself and others if you look in the reblogs of the linked post too :) #jumin han

[pro-mammonologist]

Hiii

Do for the event i have a request!

Sooo my brain is thinking about barbatos seeing mc using a maid dress and a colar, if you don't mind.

Barbatos cursed himself, distraught by his own thoughts. This was the exchange student from the human world, not some form of entertainment for him. Finding Mc in that outfit that was a bit more promiscuous compared to their regular attire made him take a double take. He may have been blessed with prophesy when it came to major events, at least, but he was not blessed when it came to foretelling his own future.

Mc had agreed to—persuaded Barbatos to let them help him clean around the castle, but never once did Barbatos predict the grand event that was Mc arriving in a maid outfit that so inappropriately covered their body. Let alone, the collar they adorned affixed with a small loop, almost as if it beckoned to be leashed.

“So???” Mc nudged him with a duster. “You just gonna ignore me?”

“Oh!” Barbatos was snatched out of his thoughts. “Sorry, could you repeat the question?” He asked, trying to scrounge up an excuse. “I was thinking of the pastries I made earlier, I was worried I didn’t put enough egg whites. You see, the meringue was as fluffy as I wanted it.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him, returning to your work. You stepped onto a stool and rose to your tippy toes, reaching up with your arm. “I was asking if Lucifer ever told you about that one time he got drunk and may or may not had confessed his love for me.”

Barbatos’ breath hitched, your skirt rose to reveal where your thigh met with the roundness of your ass. “Oh, no, you never… told me.” His eyes remained laser-focused on the peek of flesh he was blessed with.

You jumped down from the stool to face a dumbstruck Barbatos. “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” You inched closer, looking at the red in his face.

Barbatos swallowed. “It’s just—I’ve lived for a really long time but—“ He breathed a raggedy breath. “I’m experiencing something I haven’t in years.” He blurted out, mentally scolding himself for what he just admitted.

“Oh, are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, now pressing a hand to his forehead.

He went stiff at the touch, all except his fingers twitching and begging to grab you by the collar and plant your mouth onto his. “I’m entirely sure, I’m just feeling something.”

“Something?” You removed your hand.

“Something I’m not sure someone of my status should feel.” He was just as eager to get out of this situation as he was to endure it. He wanted you to understand what he meant, but at the same time he wanted to save himself from the embarrassment.

However, considering your outfit combined with his flushed face and wandering eyes, you knew what it was. You couldn’t help but grin as much as you tried to hold it back and that grin became a giggle. “So what you mean is that you’re… horny?” You laughed, whether it was your embarrassment or shock that Barbatos is this flustered from something so small. “Or should I say aroused?” You played into his vocabulary.

“Yes. If that’s what you call it.” He finally admitted, relieved but humiliated. “Though I appreciate your assistance, I’m not quite sure I could allow you to continue. I don’t mean it in a mean way, but could you leave?”

He anticipated an offended reaction, but you gave him a cat-like smile instead. “So, I’ve got you so turned on that I can’t just go change?” You teased, planning to hit him with that one line until a lightbulb struck. “Or! You want to be alone so you can relieve your newfound feeling?”

He was taken aback by your boldness and that only brought more heat to his nethers. “I—“

“Why should I leave when I could help you now? Might as well do it before we clean the whole place, hm? Who would want to dirty up something right after polishing it?”

Barbatos’ eyes darkened. “Are you willing to relieve me? Mc?” His humiliation was beginning to fade out as you dropped to your knees in front of him. It instead became overwhelmed by his most primal instincts prompting him to let you go further.

“Seems like the butler could use a maid, huh?”

“The term use might be perfect in this situation. However, I am more akin to service.”

You may have had intentions to service him, but it certainly did not end that way. Barbatos is correct when it comes to him being a giver, and it was soon shown in your soiled outfit and underwear that might not ever be returned.

Side note: absolutely loved writing this and I certainly did not expect that omg

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date barbatos #obey me barbatos #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #barbatos #barbatos smut

[sinners-if]

There's a scenario that I've been thinking about a lot. I didn't really think about it with this IF, but it could apply in some way. The general idea is:

MC and RO are attending a party. MC is getting overwhelmed and goes to hide from everyone. Perhaps it was an offhand comment that got to them or maybe they just can't deal with all the people. The RO ends up spotting them, either from looking or not. The question is how the RO would react--if at all.

For Grey, I'm curious about their different responses depending on the stage of the relationship. I imagine they'd simply ignore MC in the beginning, but what about the crushing stage?

You don't need to answer this, but I'd appreciate it if you did. Take care <3

Yes, in the beginning Roman would definitely ignore MC’s feelings. Keeping the attention from MC is purely strategic, in worries MC might ruin their schemes.

Crushing stage Grey is annoyed for totally different reasons, and that sets them on edge for the party. They have a hard time focusing on their intricate plans; all they know is this party isn’t as fun as it used to be.

Grey in the love stages is already long gone from the party.

Thanks for the fun ask!

#sinners #sinnersif #greyasks

[zmayadw]

- Unforgettable Lullaby -

Duskwood Jake x GN!Mc Oneshot

A/N: Hello lovlies! 😊 I hope you're all well and enjoyin your summer and that there are still some of you interested in reading some Duskwood content! 😊💚

It's nothing special, but I hope you will still find it likeable! As always, don't mind any mistakes you might stumble across, and happy reading! 😊💚

It was just another usual night for Mc and Jake - him lying with his laptop on his stomach, sharply focusing on the screen in front of him, with numbers and letter from codes reflecting in his eyes; Mc with a book in their hands, eyes hungrily jumping from one word to another and fingers excitedly turning page after page as the entrancing story came to its end.

With a slightly melancolich sigh, Mc close the book and place it on the night stand next to the bed.

By now, Jake got to know them so well, that by the time they lowered the book, he was already prepared - his laptop closed and sittuated next to him, left arm stretched and slightly lifted as he waited for Mc to turn and lay their head on his chest so he can hug them.

He just held them like that, silently, feeling Mc's body relaxing more and more with each slow and steady breath they both took.

"Another sad story?" he inquiers softly after he estimated enough time passed for their emotions over the book subsided enough.

"Yes, and no." Mc begins "The end was kinda saddish, but all in all, the book was really great."

Mc fall silent after that, and Jake knew better than to ask any more questions - during their time together, he also came to realization that if they wish to say more they would on their own.

He just let himself enjoy this simple, yet for him amazing moment, in which their breaths were perfectly synchronized, and no words were necessary between them.

"Do you remember any lullaby from when you were little?"

"A lullaby?" he repeats surprised at their unexpected question and chuckles "Where did that came from?"

He could feel Mc smile before speaking "It's just - it was mentioned in the book, and for some reason it got stuck with me. Just - just ignore it."

And in that moment he did remember- a melody he could never forget, even though the memory of some words faded. A seren voice of his mother, gently lulling him into dream world, and the soft touch of her palm on his cheek. Unforgettable, indeed.

"I do remember." he say after a moment, making Mc begin to feel a little bad, noticing a wistful tone of his voice.

"I'm sorry if this isn't something you want to talk about, it's fine. Just forget about it."

"Oh, no no, it's all right, angel." he smiles and give them a reasuring rub on the arm. "It's kinda like with your book, both sad and a happy memory. Well precisely, definitely more happy. It's - it's just that I haven't thought about it for a while, so..."

"Yeah, I understand what you mean."

They fall silent again, each lost deep in their thoughts.

"Would you sing it to me?"

It took a moment for Mc themself to realize what came out of their mouth, but before they could even say something Jake cut them "I can't."

"Ugh, just ignore me and my stupid brain, I wasn't thinking at all. Forget about it!"

They were already feeling like a fool, and when Jake started laughing, the feeling just got worse.

"I didn't say I don't want to," he quickly speak, as he could feel Mc's embarrassment without the need to see their face "it's that I can't, because I don't remember all the words of it."

"Oh, ok." was all they managed to say, that feeling of embarrassment still quite present.

"But I could humm it to you, if you'd like."

"Really?" They were so surprised with his offer, feeling happy as a little kid "I would love that very much!"

Jake chuckles again and pulls Mc closer "All right then, make yourself comfortable and close your eyes."

He waited for Mc to situate, and when they were both still for a few seconds, he too close his eyes and begins to humm.

And once again, the memory and images of his mother gently lulling him to sleep flood his mind, her seren voice softly echoing along his humming, enciting a blissful smile to his face.

As for Mc - the gentle humming and the sound of Jake's strong and steady heartbeats worked like a charm, and soon them too drifted off to peaceful sleep.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood oneshot #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #iamjake

[mythicamagic]

Bloodstained Roses: A Chevalier x MC two-shot. Part One.

Summary: Chevalier has been hiding a secret affliction, something he comes to learn as: Hanahaki Disease.

AN: Part two is almost finished and will feature smut. Please comment if you want to be tagged for the next part- but feel free to read it on ao3.

EDIT: Part two be here

TW: Blood

-----------

Gloved fingers found the base of his neck, massaging his throat for the umpteenth time that day. Chevalier frowned, words shifting out of focus on the page of his recently acquired book on Arthurian Legend. 

Odd. He didn't usually get sick. Logically he assumed a sore throat was the prelude to a cold, but this particular irritation had been with him for more than a week. It was beginning to affect his voice, and that was not acceptable. Perhaps he’d have to swallow his pride and seek out medicine after all. 

Chevalier cleared his throat, trying to mask the wince on his face.

A faint noise caught his attention- the soft click of a door falling shut.

“Good afternoon, Prince Chevalier.”

Blond lashes swept shut briefly in a silent wince. Hello idiotic Rabbit.

He said nothing in response to her greeting, refocusing on the page and trying to ignore the way his body responded to her presence. The room seemed just a little warmer. The pain in his throat mercifully died down.

As per usual, she approached without an ounce of wariness, beginning to browse through his private collection. No one else had access to his personal library as she did. Well…no one else had mustered the courage to ask him for one of his books either. 

"How are you enjoying it?" Her gentle voice caressed his hearing again. 

Chevalier looked up from his position, reclined on a sofa in the library. He noticed her motioning with a smile to his book.

"It's fine. Better than the ones that focused on Lancelot and Guinevere."

Emma gave a short, soft giggle, continuing to peruse the volumes on the towering shelves. "I thought you'd say that."

Chevalier sat up, watching the arch of her back as she bent to squint at certain titles, running a finger over the spines in a way he shouldn’t have paid so much attention to. 

"Although…I found the part where Arthur let Morgause into his bed incredibly foolish."

Her delicate finger paused on an old tomb. Chevalier imagined bringing it to his mouth and running teeth and tongue over her hand. 

"Yes, I agree. He's so wounded by Lancelot and Guinevere's love but commits an affair himself. It's messy," she murmured, glancing at him. "I suppose a lot of love and relationships are."

He shook himself, closing his book with a firm, dismissive sound. "I've read many stories like it. If that is what love leads to, I've no need of it," he swung long legs off the sofa and stood. Somehow their discussions always devolved into this kind of idiotic talk. 

"Not all love leads to hurt like that," she smiled encouragingly, ever the optimistic voice in his dull, repetitive days.

He frowned, sweeping a frosty gaze over her critically. "What would you know of it?"

Emma blushed, directing her gaze to the ground. Chevalier couldn't resist. He strode over and flicked her forehead. 

"You lecture me blindly, Belle."

"I wasn't lecturing,” she cradled the offended spot, frowning in a way he’d describe as adorable. “Just defending love. Don't you want to marry for lov-"

she stopped, words dying on her tongue- as if realizing mid-sentence the naivety of her words when applied to royalty. His kind wasn't meant to marry for something as precious as personal attachment. 

"I'm sorry, Prince Chevalier," she quickly bowed her head in apology. "I misspoke."

Her sudden formality and inability to meet his gaze only served to irritate him. Chevalier caught Emma's chin, guiding her head to tilt up once more. Strong brown eyes met flinty blue. His breath caught a little. She was truly the only woman who could bare to look him in the eye in such a steadfast manner.

"Of course you did, you're an imbecile, as we've previously established," he smirked. "But I did not ask for an apology, so don't give one."

Emma's face warmed into a much better expression, one more befitting her lovely features. Chevalier shook himself and turned to the shelves as he released her, pretending to browse.

"Is it alright if I…overstep my bounds again and ask you a question?"

Chevalier said nothing but she knew his habits well enough to know that was an answer in itself.

"Does the idea of entering an arranged marriage bother you?"

His gloved finger stopped on a book spine. "It is something expected of royalty. I've long prepared myself for it."

"That doesn't answer my question. Does it bother you?"

He wondered why it mattered so much to her. 

Chevalier ensured his face was blank, voice measured and controlled as he slowly straightened and met her gaze.

"No."

Something dimmed in her eyes. A fire doused. The sight of it caused his throat to tighten, flaring with such immense dryness it made swallowing painful- brittle and sharp.

Chevalier's breath shook, heart squeezing so tight he felt lightheaded. He turned his back to her, blank mask splintering just for a moment. 

What is this affliction?

“I see. I uh- I should probably go, I forgot but Sariel needed me for something-” Emma was muttering, quietly excusing herself. A moment later and that door was clicking shut once more, the small library plunging into silence. Chevalier finally relaxed, gripping the bookshelves to keep upright.

Air was rattling through his throat as he attempted to breathe normally, choking on a cough. The room was spinning. His heart thundered so fast it was like Obsidian were at their gates- beating their infernal war drums. He needed to calm down. Was this a panic attack? Surely not-

He was the Brutal Beast. Immovable, unemotional. And yet he’d never felt more powerless.

Trying to slow his breathing, Chevalier coughed, hard. Tears stung into his eyes, and he doubled over. His legs shook, knees trembling with the effort to keep him upright as he gagged and shook, aware of some unknown thing unfurling in his windpipe and travelling up as he dry heaved. Then, suddenly- it had travelled to his tongue. Chevalier coughed, spitting. Something burst out of his mouth, scattering to the polished hardwood floor like grim, dew-coated confetti and landing in a wet heap. It took a moment before red-rimmed eyes peeled open to look.

Red rose petals awaited him. 

Chevalier stared uncomprehendingly. Shaking fingers touched his lips. When he pulled them away for inspection, his chest tightened. Flecks of blood and spittle had intermingled on his black glove, stark and clear like a fresh wolf's kill on scorched earth. 

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

He was a creature of habit. As such, the first place he turned to in search of answers was books. Books were reliable. He trusted them to give him what was needed, always. Since Chevalier could not recall eating an entire bouquet of roses and had never seen anything in any medical textbook pertaining to the random vomit-cough of shrubbery, he sought the most forgotten archives for an explanation. 

But there was nothing. 

Not even textbooks from Jade, Bentonite or the furthest, obscure reaches of Obsidian yielded results. Chevalier closed one of his oldest and most precious medical journals. 

His throat had steadily been worsening over the weeks, to the point that his speech was impaired because of it. No amount of honey or herbal remedies soothed the ache. Eating food had become a struggle, and even water made him choke, fighting to keep it down. It felt as though sandpaper coated the inside of his throat, blistering with each strain of his vocal cords. He imagined that was where the blood came from. Fortunately, he wasn’t a very talkative person to begin with. Unfortunately, he had Clavis for a brother. 

“You seem so tight-lipped lately!” Clavis was saying with exaggerated dismay, throwing himself down onto the sofa beside him in the library one rainy afternoon. Chevalier felt himself be jostled, but did not react. “Yves mentioned something about hearing you cough. Has the mighty Brutal Beast finally fallen prey to a mere human illness? The horror! I guess I’ll just have to take over as faction leader. Poor you~ hope it’s nothing serious enough to hinder your abilities with a blade.”

Chevalier said nothing, continuing to ignore him and read his book. If Clavis thought he could send more assassins after him because of this sickness, he was gravely mistaken. 

“Really though, this is highly unusual. Have you really lost your voice?” Clavis peered at him suspiciously. “If that’s the case, the roundtable meeting coming up is sure to be a very interesting affair.”

When Chevalier still didn't answer, his brother’s golden eyes flicked over him, losing some of their mischievous sheen. 

“You could write something down, you know?” he said quietly.

Chevalier finally glanced at him, noticing a rare moment of genuine advice. “...I will…solve this myself.”

"Hmph. Want to know what I think? Of course you do, I have a brilliant mind," Clavis smiled, gaze sharpening. "Books only get you so far. I'm going to call a doctor here to solve this conundrum unless you'll let me examine you myself."

Chevalier made a face, squinting. The royal doctor was a stuffy old man with cold hands. Chevalier had never particularly liked him due to the fear in his eyes. It made his work sloppy. Besides, even if they summoned Four Eyes and he arranged for a new, private doctor- Chevalier knew the experience would be the same. They always looked at him like he’d bite their hand off.

"Fine," he grunted in a clipped tone. He doubted Clavis would be of any help, but perhaps it would be amusing to see his confusion. 

Clavis took to examining him with a seriousness his smile belied. He said something about Chevalier being weakened, making him more of a target for their enemies, but the elder brother was barely paying attention. He concentrated on breathing, unable to suck in air through his mouth properly and instead taking quiet, rasping inhales through his nose when possible. 

Clavis put steady hands on his back and chest, listening as Chevalier struggled, finally having to put an ear to his chest and frowning. Clavis then straightened, lighting a candle. "Open your mouth," he muttered, gesturing.

Reluctantly, Chevalier obeyed, holding still as Clavis leaned in slightly with the use of light to inspect the back of his throat. He suddenly reeled backwards. 

"What in the seven Hells…!?"

The upset jerked Chevalier, and he wheezed, coughing before he could safely smother it behind his glove. A burst of petals scattered out, fanning around Clavis' frozen features. The smile that never left his face wavered, just for a moment. 

To his credit, Clavis didn't make a racket about it. He pulled out a handkerchief, which Chevalier mutely accepted, wiping his pale mouth with trembling fingers. His body felt feverishly warm.

"Well, you're running a temperature," Clavis said calmly. "That's a nasty cough you've got too, but no signs of a traditional cold. Most troubling of all is what looks to be thorns and budding flowers growing at the back of your throat."

Chevalier stopped, staring ahead blankly. Clavis picked up one of the dewy rose petals and inspected it with an unreadable look.

"How?" Chevalier tried, massaging the base of his throat. How was this possible? 

"Don't ask me. The fact that you let me examine you tells me that no medical textbook has ever recorded something like this- since your wonderchild memory never fails,” Clavis tilted his head, considering. “This is more like something out of a fairy tale."

His words sparked something vague inside Chevalier. Fairy tales made him think of Emma. 

He cast his mind back but couldn’t recall any children’s stories pertaining to coughing up roses, but his mental catalogue of such fanciful stories was limited. If anyone would know of one- she would.

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

Clavis had offered to ‘extract’ the small thorns that appeared to be growing inside his throat, but Chevalier declined. Neither brother panicked at the unusual circumstances, yet even Clavis couldn't quite hide his wrinkled brow.

“If you leave it untreated- strange curse or not- you’re likely going to die, dear Brother,” Clavis had smirked, his eyes oddly mirthless. “And I can’t have that. Only I may have the pleasure of killing you after all. I’ll see if I can work on a little something in the meantime…”

Chevalier strode down the hallway, sweat beading on his brow. He doubted that even with Clavis’ pharmacology knowledge that a cure could be made so easily. 

In all honesty, he felt little toward the idea of dying. A kind of cold numbness settled over his shoulders the moment it was suggested. It was irritating of course. Chevalier had no intention of succumbing to something that wasn’t a fatal wound received on the battlefield. Only that kind of death suited him. 

His body would not become an empty vase for flowers. That had never been his destiny.

Firm knuckles rapped on the smooth white wood of a door. Chevalier straightened, knowing the hour was late and his visit was highly unusual. 

Emma’s door cracked open before the woman herself peered out from within her room. A complicated mix of surprise and happiness lit up her features at the sight of him.

Chevalier blinked. Why did she look pleased to see him? Relived? No one ever looked at him like that.

“P-prince Chevalier,” she spoke quietly, opening her door wider. “Is everything alright?”

He slipped inside her room soundlessly, aware of his cloak brushing her side. He glanced around the gently lit space. She’d been reading by candlelight. The sight made his lips faintly curve upwards. 

“Book-” he rasped, taking a slow breath. “I need a fairy tale book. About…roses.”

“Roses? The tale of Beauty and the Beast features a rose?”

He shook his head. “Do you know of one-” he panted softly, forcing his face to remain neutral, “-one that features someone coughing up roses? Perhaps they die- because the flower seems to be growing inside them.”

Brown eyes widened. Emma’s hand subconsciously drifted to her throat, and Chevalier’s eyes followed the action, wondering what it meant. Did she know?

The rabbit didn’t question him further. With a distracted look, she nodded. “I know it. It’s from a country overseas. The tale of Hanahaki Disease. I have a copy back at the bookshop.”

Chevalier waited, knowing he didn’t need to ask. She bit her lip, “did you want to read it?”

He nodded, hands curling into loose fists. He loathed feeling so powerless. “Soon.”

“I can go tomorrow if you like. I’ll be quick?”

“I’ll join you.”

“A-alright?” her brows pulled together, and Emma daringly took a step closer to him. “Prince Chevalier…I couldn’t help but notice that you look much paler lately. If you’re taking on too much work, or need anything at all, I’d be happy to assist.”

Anything?

Several ideas came to mind. All of them oddly gave him some measure of peace. Just the idea of holding her soothed his strained heartbeat. She had such a gentle scent. Like old and new books mixed with fresh sunbathed linens. Perfectly domestic and unremarkable- and yet he’d never wanted anything quite so badly.

“It’s unnecessary to ask. I’m perfectly capable of-”

A cough violently erupted from his throat, harsher and stronger than before. He barely had time to muffle it behind his hand, staggering against the wall.

“Prince Chevalier!”

He barely felt her gentle touch on his back, nor heard her exclamations of alarm. Chevalier concentrated on trying to stabilise his breathing, aware of how rasping and rattling it sounded. Like something was dying in his throat.

“S-should I get Sariel?”

“No-!” he all but snarled, gritting his teeth together. He couldn’t see her expression but he felt her keen worry all the same.

“Wait here- I’ll go fetch some water!” he thought he heard the rabbit say, before dashing off.

Don’t go.

Chevalier squeezed burning eyes shut, aggravated by that pathetic plea in his mind. While alone, he manages to grab a vase of flowers and cough up a lungful of petals he’d been holding back. What alarmed him was when he felt something else coming. Something long and thin that unfurled from the thorns at the back of his throat. Parting pale lips, Chevalier reached in and retrieved the long stem, gagging and finding it a miracle he didn't retch. Gasping harshly, he started at the freed dewy rose, a long stem covered in thorns held between shaking fingers. His laboured, rattling breaths filled the room- and to his own ears, it sounded like the gasps of a dying man.

Hearing Emma’s return, Chevalier placed the vase aside, hoping she’d overlook the newly appeared rose sitting neatly within the arrangement.

A cool glass was shoved into his hands, Emma’s warm brown eyes frozen stiff with worry. To hasten the departure of such a troubled look, Chev took careful sips, relieved when his throat seemed to soothe. He managed to swallow the taste of copper.

“Are you alright?” she murmured, leaning in close. 

He swallowed once more before finding his voice- weaker than usual. “Fine.”

“There was nothing fine about that! Y-you scared me there,” Emma took out her pink, embroidered handkerchief. Chevalier stiffened, feeling her dab it lightly against his cheek. It came away damp- and it was only then he’d noticed his eyes had been leaking. They stung like a wound.

“I’ve never seen you like this before. Have you-" she wet her lips nervously, "have you seen a doctor?”

“It’s not something a… regular doctor can deal with,” he straightened, taking the handkerchief from her and wiping the remainder of his face. Sweat had broken out on his forehead. 

Noticing the roaring silence, blue eyes flicked to her lovely features. Chevalier found his voice gentling. “I am seeking a cure, there’s no need for anyone else to know so tell no one. I’m sure I don’t need to explain the potential ramifications if you did,” he paused, massaging the base of his throat. “Why do you look so concerned?”

“Because I AM concerned!” she burst, stilling and coming back to herself. Sariel’s training seemed to settle over her, a countenance more befitting a Lady. She wore it like armour, and he silently approved.

Emma shook her head, rubbing her throat absentmindedly as if mirroring him. “You always handle everything alone,” she murmured sadly. “There’s something more to this, isn’t there? You can tell me, Prince Chevalier. I wouldn’t betray your trust.”

“Telling you would change nothing. I wouldn’t feel relieved by sharing it. That is a sentiment you and others share…but not me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he shifted to lean against her bedroom window, gazing at the dark expanse of gardens outside. The cool glass felt good against his burning skin. “I feel…more assured by handling it alone, as I always have. It is just- a-another way the Brutal Beast differs from you.”

He reached out with the intent of giving her handkerchief back, but gentle fingers pushed up against his hand.

“No, keep it.”

Chevalier blinked, studying her worried features as she looked at him with such heartfelt emotion it made his chest shudder. “I’m sorry for trying to meddle. Just- please bear what I said in mind if you ever feel like talking.”

His heart tripped within his ribcage, squeezing. His fool of a Rabbit was so painfully earnest that it hurt to look at her sometimes. Chevalier scoffed to cover it up, muttering a time for them to meet the following day before stalking out of the room with only the tatters of his dignity intact. 

If he were someone else, anyone else, he’d take Emma up on her generous offer. But he was Chevalier. Brutal Beast and cold second prince of Rhodolite. Feared and isolated since childhood- which suited him just fine.

But Emma was not like him. He’d watched her a few days ago from his position by the office window, observing how she smiled and laughed with royalty such as Black, the Show-off and Bear, acting no differently with servants. 

What would become of someone like that if he shut her in with him? Selfishly stole her away into the labyrinth of his personal library? People would become fearful and wary of her too if she kept company with him. She wouldn’t flourish as she did now, in the light. 

He refused to bind such a rare, precious woman to his side if it meant that smile might wilt from her face. Someone equally as bright and gleaming as she should bask in her sunny warmth. He would be content with watching what became of her. Happiness would always find Emma, Chevalier was certain of it. 

But it wouldn’t if she was his. They were ill suited.

Shaking fingers curled tighter around the pink handkerchief in his hand, before tucking it away in his pocket. 

#Ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen prince chevalier #ikemen prince clavis #ikemen prince emma #ikepri fanfic #ikemen series #otome games

[arospecbandgeek]

Epithet Erased - Idol! AU

Something I’m making because, as it turns out, I’m a very slow artist but a fast writer.

This is mostly just an idea dump post. The details are really messy, so I apologize.

The main gist is just the Neo trio and Lorelai but as idols. You can learn more under the cut.

I’m not committed to this AU. Nothing is set in stone. Feel free to ask questions, but this is mostly just to get my ideas out there, I am not promising anything big will come from this (Like a fanfiction or comic).

“Neapolitan♡Melody”

Neapolitan♡Melody, or NeoMelody for short, is the idol group containing Molly Blyndeff, Trixie Roughouse, and Phoenica Fleecity.

Even though Molly is still the MC of this AU, Phoenica is considered to be the leader of the group in the media in-universe. Their music mostly kids-bop like, but genuinely palatable.

The three debuted a couple days before the start of the museum arc.

Due to Molly’s misophonia, the trio decided that they would only do indoor recordings and virtual shows in order to minimize the amount of noise she had to hear.

“LORELAI”

LORELAI or Lorelai Blyndeff is a solo idol who debuted when she was 15 years old.

She mostly makes music based on whatever her primary obsession is at the time. Which with how quickly she moves on from topic to topic, and how long it takes to release an album, she gets bored very quickly. This eventually gets to where she primarily releases singles focusing around whatever she’s into.

Something to mention is that Lorelai still goes into her bubbles and ignores her responsibilities. She’s constantly late to almost everything and does almost none of her share, except when it’s in the public eye.

Both NeoMelody and LORELAI are primarily vocals performed by their respective idols, with synthesizers being done after the fact.

Plot

Calliope Blyndeff was a former idol in the 90s, and a really popular one at that. She eventually retired in the early 2000’s, and primarily leaving the scene once she became a mother.

Molly and Lorelai mostly became idols because of their mother, beginning training at a very young age.

Even though Martin is both of their managers in name, he rarely ever does his job, only really being in interviews. Molly primarily is forced to take over almost all of the manager duties, causing her to be tired on a constant basis. It’s even gotten to where she’d faint during recordings.

(Naven helps to homeschool the three girls instead of running a speech class)

During the Museum Arc, it’s around the time of NeoMelody’s first debut. With such a major accomplishment, Molly not only wants to celebrate with her friends, but get some alone time. She eventually ends up in the museum.

The museum arc then goes similarly, with only Giovanni recognizing her as an idol, since Trixie is related to him.

For Prison of Plastic, it has a similar structure to the canon. The trio finding Rick, Lorelai kidnapping Giovanni, etc. But the ending is different (I’m not 100% sure what it would be atp).

(I also want to put Sylvie into the PoP arc more, but I’m not sure how.)

#epithet erased #epithet erased au #molly blyndeff #trixie roughouse #phoenica fleecity #lorelai blyndeff #martin mentioned #bandgeek-writings

[skynapple]

Budding Romance | Ch. 13

Love and Deepspace | Jeremiah x MC / slow-burn / friends-to-lovers

warnings: none

Multi-chapter | A03 link

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"Barriers | Part 2"

For years that was just what Jeremiah did when he knew she was in a mood. She would be melancholy, exhausted from fighting wanderers, and he always knew she was secretly missing Xavier, so he'd round up a few of their fellow knights and try to do his best to distract her. Fuzzy as his memories were, he recalled that they were good times. As good as they could be amidst a war.

He could feel his anxiety grow as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He did his best to silence it casually.

Damnit, Xavier, you’re never here. 

In the past, there’d been no Xavier to come rushing to her rescue to sweep her off her feet. Now that his friend was around, he knew it was the right thing to do. He’d snuck in a call while atop the tower attempting to fix the device, knowing better what would happen if he hadn’t. It still felt annoying beyond measure. "Come to her rescue,” was the right and correct wingman thing to do, but of course, the man had disappeared without a trace again into the N109 zone. Since it was no use further, he only messaged that things were find and he was handling things. Both of them had long abandoned the rule of non-contact. It was probably fine to have establish some sense of normalcy in friendly behavior. Besides, after the events of the day, he felt he owed her that much. He was secretly grateful for the time he got to spend with her. The rush of watching her in action, grace and grit all in the same. It had felt like old times.

Along the way, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy and a little bit of pain at her constant distrust. It definitely wasn’t unfounded, but his mind was tossing at the thought of how best to explain things without actually giving anything away. He hated lying to her, but he knew it was for the best that she know as little as possible. 

He lead her down a somewhat sketchy alleyway down a cascade of steps into a hidden door with no sign. Three knocks and a passcode and they were inside what looked like a retro bar and arcade. She marveled at the location, its interior cozy but with distinctly modern features.

“What is this place?” She still sounded cautious, but could not hide her tone in amazement.

He smiled. "C'mere they have those machines you like.” She followed him to the arcade area and he watched her jaw fall ajar when she saw the claw machine there.

"These are retro collector items. They don't even make these anymore!"

“Really?” He said in faux ignorance. “I kinda think they look a little d-"

"A little what, Jer." Her tone suddenly menacing.

"A little dumb." He said with no fear in his eyes. 

"Well you're dumb."

Knowing this could go in circles, he produced a few coins and handed them over. "We'll see about that."

He knew she was tired, he knew the way her eyes flickered like they were his own. It was a work day, and they’d spent time fighting wanderers, and it was getting late. But when her eyes had fallen on a new challenge and claw machine, all the tiredness was gone, replaced with excitement and fervor. This was the joy that he had always wished to produce, but was never quite able to when they sat, legs cramping on the ground, with drinks that tasted like dirt, eyes stinging from the smoke of bonfires. Back then, her joy only lasted for a moment. She was always looking elsewhere, at the stars.

Here, she was intently focused on winning, all anger channeled now into her challenge. Several attempts later, he put a stop to her fervor and offered they spend money on something they'd actually be able to enjoy. 

“No! Damn this rickety thing." She looked like she would kill someone so he took her hand, as if to hold her back from shooting something. At that her shoulders slumped as she admitted defeat but pressed her pointer finger to the glass of the claw machine.

"I'll be back for you! Just you wait!”

A laugh escaped him as he lead her to the bar area, secretly a bit disappointed that she hadn’t won anything either and hoping it wouldn’t increase her anger. She ordered a beer. She ordered two. He only ordered something non-alcholic that sounded refreshing.

When she questioned it he merely shrugged and said, “I don’t drink.”

He observed her again while she downed the first rather quickly, seemingly in a better mood and swaying her head to the upbeat music playing in the overhead speakers.

"Feeling better?"

She bobbed her head. “Yes. I still have questions though.”

Great. 

Although he’d hoped she would have forgotten, he still knew it was coming. When determination struck her, there was very little that could get in her way. He settled his eyes on the grainy wood countertop, tracing the lines of it with his finger, trying to formulate what to say, glad for once that he’d chosen not to drink to avoid having a clear mind. The last thing he wanted to do was expose something he shouldn’t have.

“Xavier…hasn’t… um. Hmm.” He stared at his soda and took a careful sip.

“It’s a group. That’s all. A long time ago, I… stopped trying to uh, be a hunter.” He sighed, knowing the best way to lie was to spin the truth. “I wanted to focus on my relationships, and my life. You know? Sometimes you just want to change directions. I wanted a more normal life. When… when I lost her I kind of lost purpose. I tried to focus on the business. Xavier charged right into becoming a deepspace hunter. I still…couldn’t. So. I help when I can. There’s a…network. But we’re not official. We just help. Research… tinker. That sort of thing. For friends’ sake.” He breathed slowly, finally looking at her. “Is… is that enough?”

As he had spoke, she had listened wordlessly, watching his eyes carefully. The gaze felt like it was veering into his soul. The sounds in the bar had all drowned out, it felt like in that moment all he could hear was his heart pounding, all he see was her sullen eyes, watching him as if to tear into him, that or if she would cry. She only stretched out her hand and settled it on his. 

“Why couldn’t you just say that?” 

It was something he imagined he’d ask as well. But she had no idea, and he couldn’t possibly begin to explain. Interrupting the moment, the bartender asked if they were doing fine. She shot a friendly smile and dismissed him before returning her attention to Jeremiah. The brief moment gave him time to think.

“Some of the deepspace hunters and associates know about us. Jenna…does, because she trusts Xavier. But there’s a lot of people out there, a lot of danger. The less people know about our identities the better.”

She took it at face value. “Ok…I think I understand.”

Relief washed over him. It felt finally that he had a little bit of weight off his chest. For the first time all night, she looked warmly at him again. It filled him up.

“I think that's honorable,” She went on, “Even if you didn't want to keep fighting wanderers. I just wish you told me sooner. It was pretty shocking to see you…you know. Fighting so well.” 

“Yeah. Just, keep it on the down-low, ok? You never saw me.” When she agreed, he squeezed her hand back, rubbing his thumb over hers. “Xavier’s going to kill me for saying this but… I think you’re the best hunter I’ve ever seen. It was an honor to fight beside you today.”

Again.

“Not bad yourself…You’re…amazing.” The last part came softly, making him want to tease her, but it felt in poor taste considering the quiet of the moment. Maybe it was the alcohol she had, but she was turning red - and in her ears too. To him, it only made her look endearing. She let go of his hand to return to her drink. “If you ever want to try being a hunter again, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Let’s not.” He laughed and went to take a drink of his own. “I wouldn’t want to infringe on Xav’s pride by surpassing him. He doesn’t look good when he cries.” A sting in his shoulder made him grin widely, knowing she’d knuckled him there. 

The evening went on, and he walked her to the station that lead her home. She’d remained at two drinks, but he let himself be a little cautious. Briefly she relayed that she needed to check lost and found for something she’d left behind, to no avail. The assumption was that a wanderer or some meddling individual likely stole it. When she started to look disappointed about it, he threw an arm around her shoulder to comfort her, promising to replace the items. 

He didn’t mean to linger. He did.

She put both her hands up around his waist and held him, face nuzzling against his chest. The station announcement of the last train for the evening filled in the silence. 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, so softly he wondered if she heard it, meaning it in so many ways that she could not understand.

“You’re forgiven.” She said, drawing her face up to look at him. 

They parted ways, as he always intended. Not too far, not too much. He wouldn’t be the man to walk her home. A message on his phone told him Xavier confirmed he would meet her at the other side of the station, and Jeremiah went home.

#jeremiah x mc #lnds jeremiah #love and deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #lnds fic #l&ds #l&ds jeremiah #l&ds mc #love and deepspace #lnds mc #love and deepspace mc #budding romance #madi writes

[embersofhope-if]

i would suggest a drabble where MC and Ash are hanging out for the last time before the games for the pride drabble (with it being WLW, MLM or just in general queer) but i feel like u got enough drabbles on your plate so just ignore this idea

uhm lets pretend its still june. this is both f!ash and m!ash but the only thing that's different is when Mc fixes Ash's hair.

there aren't really any trigger warnings. Mc does mention death a couple of times but that's really it. anyways! enjoy<3

wordcount: 3.4k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ F!Ash Versionˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It's hot, hotter than a normal July night. Just lying in my bed with a thin sheet is making me sweat so much I think I might drown in it. I know getting up to open my window might help to cool my room down but the very idea of moving conjures up an image of me bursting into flames as soon as I stand. I resign myself to sweat to death in my bed, or at least suffer until Ash decides to actually show up.   

This is her stupid tradition, and she doesn’t even show up on time. I should just tell her to go home when she shows up, it's what she deserves for forcing me to wait in my oven of a bedroom.  

But I wouldn’t do that. As much as I’m suffering in my room, she’s the one who has to sneak across the entire city. It would just be cruel to force her to go back without indulging her just a little bit.  

I doubt she’d even be upset if I did tell her to leave though, just allows her to go to the places she wants to go instead of worrying about me tripping on a rooftop and falling to my death.  

Just as I begin to contemplate moving downstairs, I hear a shuffle at my window and a slight knock. I quickly stand to go and open it, desperate to finally get out of this room.   

As soon as she catches sight of me Ash flashes a smile that she quickly drops trying to catch her breath. With how flushed her cheeks are and the fact that I can hear how hard her breathing is through the window she must’ve sprinted halfway across the city.  

“Can you please let me in? I didn’t come this far just to be shot out of your window by a peacekeeper” she manages to say; sounding only slightly like she’s about to pass out.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy watching you struggle to open an unlocked window.” I respond, already sliding the window open. Before I fully step away Ash falls into the room.   

I reach out to steady her, trying to make sure she doesn’t fall and wake up my entire family. Mother may like Ash, but I know for a fact that if she finds her breaking into my bedroom Ash would never be allowed back into the house again.  

“Are you alright?” I ask, worrying that she may have hurt herself trying to get here before it got too late in the night. The fact that she even has enough energy to get here after working all day in the factory will never not amaze me.   

“I'm fine. Don’t worry,” she responds, finally able to take a breath without wheezing. I realize that I’m still holding onto her arms, and she has yet to pull away from me. My cheeks flush at the realization at the lack of distance between us but I can’t bring myself to pull away either.   

With how close I am I'm able to see every freckle that’s scattered across her face, able to count every one of her ridiculously long eyelashes that Ash says are more of a curse than a blessing with how often they fall into her eyes. Her cheeks are rosy, but whether that’s from her being overheated or she's blushing as much as I am I’m not entirely sure. I look down at her lips and feel like I’m caught in a trance.   

Kiss her.   

Every other thought disappears from my mind focusing only on Ash's lips and how badly I want to kiss her. I bring my hand up, tracing the edge of her lips. They’re slightly chapped and I can tell she’s been picking at them recently. Something I know she only does whenever she’s worried.  

Just kiss her. It’ll make her feel better. Make her forget whatever she’s worried about.  

Before I get the chance to lean in Ash wraps her hand around mine and steps back. I can feel a bubble of disappointment rising in my chest and I do everything I can to not let it show on my face.  

“C’mon we can’t just stay in here the whole night,” she says, and I fight the urge to groan. Climbing buildings and sneaking around the city in this heat is the last thing I want to do.   

As she moves to the window I hesitate, contemplating just asking her to stay in for the night, but before I’m able to ask she’s already slipping back out into the night. Now I don’t have any type of fight in this, do I?  

I lean out of the window and look around making sure no peacekeepers are passing by. The streetlights are so dim I doubt that they would even be able to see me. Still, I try to move as fast as I can.  

At first, the heat is almost unbearable, but then I feel a slight breeze that causes me to shiver when it hits my sweat-soaked shirt. The higher I climb the more the wind picks up, causing the fire escape to creak and shake.  

Despite being in the best part of District 8 the fire escape is covered in so much rust I think it might be more of a safety hazard than anything. It creaks so loudly when I climb it, I think it might break off. Every time I feel the vibrations of Ash walking above me, I think the thing is actually coming down and dragging the two of us with it.  

Falling to my death on the very thing that’s supposed to help me survive would honestly be a funny way to go. At least there’s a sense of irony in it. I can think of a million worse ways to die. Including the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all day.   

The Hunger Games.  

I know the chances of me being reaped are practically none, but the thought still haunts me. My name is still in that bowl, surrounded by thousands of other names, yes, but it's still in there all the same. I’m the lucky one compared to everyone else. How many times has the mayor's child been reaped to fight in the games? I can't think of a single time, not even in Districts like 1 and 2. Despite people being encouraged to volunteer there the mayor's children are never among them. Maybe they know something the rest don’t or maybe they just don’t feel the need to die for their District when there are already so many people clamoring to do it first.  

I’m so caught up in my head thinking about the Games I barely even noticed how much I’ve climbed. I look up and see Ash scaling the small ladder that leads to the roof. The fact that she hasn’t said a word since we’ve been out here worries me.   

Normally she’d at least whisper something to me but tonight she’s been completely silent. Maybe she’s thinking about the games too. I know she had to sign up for Tessera this year, even with the food I was able to give her it just wasn’t enough.   

Trying to convince her that I can just steal more food from my home was useless. I know it's not her pride stopping her from taking the food. Ash has never been that type of person. Confident? Yes, but never prideful. The fact that she refuses to let me help her is driving me insane. Maybe it's not just the Games that’s worrying her but something else. I try to come up with any other idea, but it feels impossible that it could be anything but that. 

As I reach the top and climb onto the roof, I see Ash just a few steps away. She’s looking off to the west, and I can tell she's mapping out which way we’re going to go. 

“Alright let's get moving before it gets too late”, I hear Ash say as she moves to jump to the next rooftop. I don’t even get the chance to ask which way we’re going. I’ve got to follow her and hope she remembers not to pick rooftops that I will die trying to jump to.  

I take a deep breath and jump to the first roof, running to catch up to Ash. She stops on the edge and turns to look at me, making sure that I’m right beside her before she gets too far ahead.   

“We’re going the same way we did last year, okay?” she says to me, the moon lighting up her eyes. There’s amusement in her voice and I can already tell what she’s about to ask.   

“You want to race don’t you,” I say before she gets the chance to say it first. She always beats me. Sometimes it seems like beating me in an incredibly illegal race is her proudest achievement. For how observant she is I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I’m letting her win. Ash may be better at ridiculously dangerous climbs but I’m still faster than her. She and Calliope like to joke that my biggest skill is that I can run away. I seriously hope I’ll never have to put that skill to the test. Racing Ash is about as much practice as I get with it.  

Ash lets out a laugh and for a moment I can see my Ash again, not the worrywart that’s hardly said a word to me the whole way up here.   

“Oh of course I do. At this point, it might as well be a part of the tradition.”  

I take a moment pretending to think about if I’m going to agree. We both know I’m going to say yes but this is as much a part of the tradition as the race itself. I pause and make a show of deciding on my answer.  

“Alright fine but if I win, I get a prize,” I say already getting ready to take off. There was one year when Ash took off before I could even finish my sentence. I may let her win but I’m going to make her work for it.   

“If I win, again, I also get a prize” she responds, I nod in agreement and we both get ready to run.   

“One, two, three”   

And we’re both off with me taking the lead. The first three rooftops are easy, it’s the fourth one that’s a bit of a struggle. With the first three, all you’ve got to do is jump down and run straight until you get to the next one, but the fourth roof has a small fence you have to jump over; to get high enough to do it you have to climb on top of an ac unit and take a not so small leap. Miss the landing and you’re falling to your death. Making the landing but still hitting the fence honestly is only slightly better. Not that I would prefer either, but impaling myself on a fence sounds better than falling off a building. Making the jump and feeling only slightly like you’ve injured yourself is genuinely the best case scenario; for me at least. 

I turn to see how close Ash is; she’s halfway across the second rooftop and if I want to keep my lead, I have to make the jump quickly. I climb the ac unit as quickly as I can and get ready to jump. I can’t afford to hesitate on this. I hesitate I die. This whole race is for fun but that doesn’t distract me from how dangerous this really is. I run across what little room I have on the unit and jump.   

Time freezes and I try not to look down. Try not to focus on the feeling of falling. Try not to think about how I could’ve completely screwed up this jump and I won’t even realize till it's too late. Suddenly I feel my feet hit the ground of the fourth roof. A jolt of pain is sent up my leg from the force of my landing, but other than that, I’m completely fine. I turn back just in time to see Ash take the jump as well and land significantly more smoothly than I did.   

She stops for a moment and we both take the second to look the other over and make sure we’re alright. Ash’s hair is in her face, but I can see that she’s still smiling; fighting back the urge to laugh. I so badly want to reach out and fix her hair. Just stop the race and enjoy her for a second but I know she wouldn’t let me. Not if it means she loses. Almost in unison, we take off again. The most dangerous part is over now; all we have to do is make sure not to be seen.  

We keep running for a good twenty minutes until finally I can see our goal. An abandoned building with an old water tower on the top. I’ve tried to figure out what the building was used for. There aren’t very many places in District 8 that aren’t used for something, so finding a completely abandoned one is more unsettling than anything. I don’t even remember how we found it. All I know is that one day I stopped feeling unsettled when I was there. One day I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else in District 8. One day it stopped being some old building and became ours.   

Our sanctuary away from the rest of the world. A place that only me and Ash know about.  

Normally it's about here that I start to slow down and let Ash overtake me in the race, but there’s a part of me that wants to win this time. I could use my prize to make Ash tell me what’s been bothering her so much, but that seems too unfair. If she wants to tell me what’s wrong, I couldn’t force her to. I wouldn’t want to force her to do anything at all. So, I start to slow down making it seem like I’m trying my best to catch my breath.   

Ash overtakes me just as we reach the last ladder, and she begins to climb.  I can already hear her shouts of excitement over winning, again. How she manages to still be so excited about winning the same thing every year is beyond me. Maybe next year I shouldn’t let her win. Bring down that ego of hers that only gets bigger with every race.   

But then I see the look of pure glee on Ash’s face as I climb onto the roof, and I know for a fact I’d never do anything to ruin it. Knowing that she’s happy in this moment is worth a slightly bruised ego.  

“Surprise, I win again,” Ash says brightly. She’s still out of breath from the run and is trying very hard to hide it. Her hair has almost completely fallen out of its braid, and it’s plastered to her face with sweat.   

“Oh, how shocking. I really didn’t see that one coming” I reply, rolling my eyes and reaching out to fix her hair; undoing what’s left of her braid and running my fingers through it trying to get rid of the tangles. “Now, what’s the prize this time.”  

I don’t even realize how close I’ve gotten to her until I notice all I can smell is her. The scent of cinnamon and leather is so intoxicating I could almost get drunk on it. As if I didn’t feel like her presence alone was enough to get drunk. All I can feel is the softness of her hair and her breath on my skin and it makes me feel like I’m spinning.  

I finally finish fixing her hair, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. I honestly think I might fall over if I try, and with the way Ash is gripping my arms, I think she might be having the same problem.  

At that moment, the world seems to fade and it’s just the two of us on that rooftop, bathed in the moonlight. We’re so close I can see her pulse racing at her neck, and I can feel the electricity in the air. Ash’s eyes lock with mine, and I see a mix of emotions swirling within them: excitement, anticipation, and something else. Something that she’s doing everything in her power to hide from me.   

Worry.   

She’s still worrying about the same thing that’s been bothering her all night. It must be the Games; there’s no other possibility; nothing else would make sense.  

I should pull away right now and ask her what’s wrong, but I keep looking at her and the thought of breaking this moment physically pains me. There is only one thing I can think of at this moment.   

Kiss her.  

I can’t hold back any longer. My heart is screaming for her, and I lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet, and it’s like fireworks exploding in my chest. Time seems to stand still as we kiss. It’s soft, tender, and filled with all the thoughts and emotions that were too afraid to say out loud. I try to kiss away her worry and fear of what’s going to happen tomorrow. Replace her fear with the knowledge that no matter what happens I’ll be here for her, and I know that she’ll be here for me.  

Eventually, we pull away, both with wide smiles on our faces. Our foreheads rest against each other, and our breathing begins to steady. For a long quiet moment, we just stare at each other, comforted by the other's presence.  

“I know what I want my prize to be,” Ash whispers as she wraps her arms around me and leads us both in a slow sway to music that only she can hear.  

That’s right she still hasn’t claimed her prize yet. Last year she asked for some pastries and the year before that she had asked for my old pair of boots. Neither of which surprised me if I'm honest, normally it's easy to guess what she wants, but this year something feels off.   

“Alright, your wish is my command,” I say with a slight chuckle, and I try to move us into a proper waltz, but Ash doesn’t let me. Instead, she wraps herself around me even tighter than before and we stop moving altogether. Okay, something is seriously wrong; I’d be blind to not see it.   

Before I can ask her what the problem is, she pulls back and cups my face in both hands. Confused, I look into her eyes only to find her staring at me with such an intense look it startles me.   

“I want you to promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow you will keep helping my family,” she says with such finality that I struggle to respond.   

Why would tomorrow be any different than any other reaping day? She can’t possibly think that she’s going to be the one reaped. It’s almost always somebody neither of us has heard of. It’s sad to see them go but at the end of the day, they’re nobody.   

Ash is somebody.  

If she gets reaped there would be an uproar. Right? But what could anybody do if she was? What could I do if she was? Nothing. I could do absolutely nothing. Just like she would be able to do nothing if I’m the one who’s reaped.  

This must be what she’s been worried about all day. Why Ash is convinced that she’s going to be the one going into the Games I’m not sure, but if it’ll calm her down then I’ll promise her what she wants.   

“Okay, I’ll make sure they’re alright”, I say nodding my head and reaching out to cover her hands that still hold my face. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t.  

“I need you to say you promise”, Ash pleads, and I can feel my heart shatter when I notice that she’s starting to cry. Without thinking I pull her into me wrapping myself around her.   

“I promise you, Ash. As long as I live nothing will ever happen to them.”   

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ M!Ash Versionˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It's hot, hotter than a normal July night. Just lying in my bed with a thin sheet is making me sweat so much I think I might drown in it. I know getting up to open my window might help to cool my room down but the very idea of moving conjures up an image of me bursting into flames as soon as I stand. I resign myself to sweat to death in my bed, or at least suffer until Ash decides to actually show up.   

This is his stupid tradition, and he doesn’t even show up on time. I should just tell him to go home when He shows up, it's what he deserves for forcing me to wait in my oven of a bedroom.  

But I wouldn’t do that. As much as I’m suffering in my room, He’s the one who has to sneak across the entire city. It would just be cruel to force him to go back without indulging him just a little bit.  

I doubt he’d even be upset if I did tell him to leave though, just allows him to go to the places he wants to go instead of worrying about me tripping on a rooftop and falling to my death.  

Just as I begin to contemplate moving downstairs, I hear a shuffle at my window and a slight knock. I quickly stand to go and open it, desperate to finally get out of this room.   

As soon as he catches sight of me Ash flashes a smile that he quickly drops trying to catch his breath. With how flushed his cheeks are and the fact that I can hear how hard his breathing is through the window he must’ve sprinted halfway across the city.  

“Can you please let me in? I didn’t come this far just to be shot out of your window by a peacekeeper” He manages to say; sounding only slightly like he’s about to pass out.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy watching you struggle to open an unlocked window.” I respond, already sliding the window open. Before I fully step away Ash falls into the room.   

I reach out to steady him, trying to make sure he doesn’t fall and wake up my entire family. Mother may like Ash, but I know for a fact that if he finds him breaking into my bedroom Ash will never be allowed back into the house again.  

“Are you alright?” I ask, worrying that he may have hurt himself trying to get here before it got too late in the night. The fact that he even has enough energy to get here after working all day in the factory will never not amaze me.   

“I'm fine. Don’t worry,” He responds, finally able to take a breath without wheezing. I realize that I’m still holding onto his arms, and he has yet to pull away from me. My cheeks flush at the realization of the lack of distance between us but I can’t bring myself to pull away either.   

With how close I am I'm able to see every freckle that’s scattered across his face, able to count every one of his ridiculously long eyelashes that Ash says are more of a curse than a blessing with how often they fall into his eyes. His cheeks are rosy, but whether that’s from him being overheated or he's blushing as much as I am I’m not entirely sure. I look down at his lips and feel like I’m caught in a trance.   

Kiss him.   

Every other thought disappears from my mind focusing only on Ash's lips and how badly I want to kiss him. I bring my hand up, tracing the edge of his lips. They’re slightly chapped and I can tell he’s been picking at them recently. Something I know he only does whenever he’s worried.  

Just kiss him. It’ll make him feel better. Make him forget whatever He’s worried about.  

Before I get the chance to lean in Ash wraps his hand around mine and steps back. I can feel a bubble of disappointment rising in my chest and I do everything I can to not let it show on my face.  

“C’mon we can’t just stay in here the whole night,” he says, and I fight the urge to groan. Climbing buildings and sneaking around the city in this heat is the last thing I want to do.   

As he moves to the window I hesitate, contemplating just asking him to stay in for the night, but before I’m able to ask he’s already slipping back out into the night. Now I don’t have any type of fight in this, do I?  

I lean out of the window and look around making sure no peacekeepers are passing by. The streetlights are so dim I doubt that they would even be able to see me. Still, I try to move as fast as I can.  

At first, the heat is almost unbearable, but then I feel a slight breeze that causes me to shiver when it hits my sweat-soaked shirt. The higher I climb the more the wind picks up, causing the fire escape to creak and shake.  

Despite being in the best part of District 8 the fire escape is covered in so much rust I think it might be more of a safety hazard than anything. It creaks so loudly when I climb it, I think it might break off. Every time I feel the vibrations of Ash walking above me, I think the thing is actually coming down and dragging the two of us with it.  

Falling to my death on the very thing that’s supposed to help me survive would honestly be a funny way to go. At least there’s a sense of irony in it. I can think of a million worse ways to die. Including the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all day.   

The Hunger Games.  

I know the chances of me being reaped are practically none, but the thought still haunts me. My name is still in that bowl, surrounded by thousands of other names, yes, but it's still in there all the same. I’m the lucky one compared to everyone else. How many times has the mayor's child been reaped to fight in the games? I can't think of a single time, not even in Districts like 1 and 2. Despite people being encouraged to volunteer there the mayor's children are never among them. Maybe they know something the rest don’t or maybe they just don’t feel the need to die for their District when there are already so many people clamoring to do it first.  

I’m so caught up in my head thinking about the Games I barely even noticed how much I’ve climbed. I look up and see Ash scaling the small ladder that leads to the roof. The fact that he hasn’t said a word since we’ve been out here worries me.   

Normally he’d at least whisper something to me but tonight he’s been completely silent. Maybe he’s thinking about the games too. I know he had to sign up for Tessera this year, even with the food I was able to give him it just wasn’t enough.   

Trying to convince him that I can just steal more food from my home was useless. I know it's not his pride stopping him from taking the food. Ash has never been that type of person. Confident? Yes, but never prideful. The fact that he refuses to let me help him is driving me insane. Maybe it's not just the Games that’s worrying him but something else. I try to come up with any other idea, but it feels impossible that it could be anything but that. 

As I reach the top and climb onto the roof, I see Ash just a few steps away. He’s looking off to the west, and I can tell he's mapping out which way we’re going to go. 

“Alright let's get moving before it gets too late”, I hear Ash say as he moves to jump to the next rooftop. I don’t even get the chance to ask which way we’re going. I’ve got to follow him and hope he remembers not to pick rooftops that I will die trying to jump to.  

I take a deep breath and jump to the first roof, running to catch up to Ash. He stops on the edge and turns to look at me, making sure that I’m right beside him before he gets too far ahead.   

“We’re going the same way we did last year, okay?” He says to me, the moon lights up his eyes. There’s amusement in his voice and I can already tell what he’s about to ask.   

“You want to race don’t you,” I say before he gets the chance to say it first. He always beats me. Sometimes it seems like beating me in an incredibly illegal race is his proudest achievement. For how observant he is I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed that I’m letting him win. Ash may be better at ridiculously dangerous climbs but I’m still faster than him. He and Calliope like to joke that my biggest skill is that I can run away. I seriously hope I’ll never have to put that skill to the test. Racing Ash is about as much practice as I get with it.  

Ash lets out a laugh and for a moment I can see my Ash again, not the worrywart that’s hardly said a word to me the whole way up here.   

“Oh of course I do. At this point, it might as well be a part of the tradition.”  

I take a moment pretending to think about if I’m going to agree. We both know I’m going to say yes but this is as much a part of the tradition as the race itself. I pause and make a show of deciding on my answer.  

“Alright fine but if I win, I get a prize,” I say already getting ready to take off. There was one year when Ash took off before I could even finish my sentence. I may let him win but I’m going to make him work for it.   

“If I win, again, I also get a prize” He responds, I nod in agreement and we both get ready to run.   

“One, two, three”   

And we’re both off with me taking the lead. The first three rooftops are easy, it’s the fourth one that’s a bit of a struggle. With the first three, all you’ve got to do is jump down and run straight until you get to the next one, but the fourth roof has a small fence you have to jump over; to get high enough to do it you have to climb on top of an ac unit and take a not so small leap. Miss the landing and you’re falling to your death. Making the landing but still hitting the fence honestly is only slightly better. Not that I would prefer either, but impaling myself on a fence sounds better than falling off a building. Making the jump and feeling only slightly like you’ve injured yourself is genuinely the best-case scenario; for me at least. 

I turn to see how close Ash is; He’s halfway across the second rooftop and if I want to keep my lead, I have to make the jump quickly. I climb the ac unit as quickly as I can and get ready to jump. I can’t afford to hesitate on this. I hesitate I die. This whole race is for fun but that doesn’t distract me from how dangerous this really is. I run across what little room I have on the unit and jump.   

Time freezes and I try not to look down. Try not to focus on the feeling of falling. Try not to think about how I could’ve completely screwed up this jump and I won’t even realize till it's too late. Suddenly I feel my feet hit the ground of the fourth roof. A jolt of pain is sent up my leg from the force of my landing, but other than that, I’m completely fine. I turn back just in time to see Ash take the jump as well and land significantly more smoothly than I did.   

He stops for a moment and we both take the second to look the other over and make sure we’re alright. Ash’s hair is in his face, but I can see that He’s still smiling; fighting back the urge to laugh. I so badly want to reach out and fix his hair. Just stop the race and enjoy him for a second but I know he wouldn’t let me. Not if it means he loses. Almost in unison, we take off again. The most dangerous part is over now; all we have to do is make sure not to be seen.  

We keep running for a good twenty minutes until finally I can see our goal. An abandoned building with an old water tower on the top. I’ve tried to figure out what the building was used for. There aren’t very many places in District 8 that aren’t used for something, so finding a completely abandoned one is more unsettling than anything. I don’t even remember how we found it. All I know is that one day I stopped feeling unsettled when I was there. One day I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else in District 8. One day it stopped being some old building and became ours.   

Our sanctuary away from the rest of the world. A place that only me and Ash know about.  

Normally it's about here that I start to slow down and let Ash overtake me in the race, but there’s a part of me that wants to win this time. I could use my prize to make Ash tell me what’s been bothering her so much, but that seems too unfair. If he wants to tell me what’s wrong, I couldn’t force him to. I wouldn’t want to force him to do anything at all. So, I start to slow down making it seem like I’m trying my best to catch my breath.   

Ash overtakes me just as we reach the last ladder, and he begins to climb.  I can already hear his shouts of excitement over winning, again. How he manages to still be so excited about winning the same thing every year is beyond me. Maybe next year I shouldn’t let him win. Bring down that ego of his that only gets bigger with every race.   

But then I see the look of pure glee on Ash’s face as I climb onto the roof, and I know for a fact I’d never do anything to ruin it. Knowing that He’s happy in this moment is worth a slightly bruised ego.  

“Surprise, I win again,” Ash says brightly. He’s still out of breath from the run and is trying very hard to hide it. His hair has is completely all over the place, and it’s plastered to his face with sweat.   

“Oh, how shocking. I really didn’t see that one coming” I reply, rolling my eyes and reaching out to fix his hair; smoothing down the fly aways and running my fingers through it trying to get rid of the tangles. “Now, what’s the prize this time.”  

I don’t even realize how close I’ve gotten to him until I notice all I can smell is him. The scent of cinnamon and leather is so intoxicating I could almost get drunk on it. As if I didn’t feel like his presence alone was enough to get drunk. All I can feel is the softness of his hair and his breath on my skin and it makes me feel like I’m spinning.  

I finally finish fixing his hair, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. I honestly think I might fall over if I try, and with the way Ash is gripping my arms, I think He might be having the same problem.  

At that moment, the world seems to fade and it’s just the two of us on that rooftop, bathed in the moonlight. We’re so close I can see his pulse racing at his neck, and I can feel the electricity in the air. Ash’s eyes lock with mine, and I see a mix of emotions swirling within them: excitement, anticipation, and something else. Something that he’s doing everything in his power to hide from me.   

Worry.   

He’s still worrying about the same thing that’s been bothering him all night. It must be the Games; there’s no other possibility; nothing else would make sense.  

I should pull away right now and ask him what’s wrong, but I keep looking at him and the thought of breaking this moment physically pains me. There is only one thing I can think of at this moment.   

Kiss him.  

I can’t hold back any longer. My heart is screaming for him, and I lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet, and it’s like fireworks exploding in my chest. Time seems to stand still as we kiss. It’s soft, tender, and filled with all the thoughts and emotions that were too afraid to say out loud. I try to kiss away his worry and fear of what’s going to happen tomorrow. Replace his fear with the knowledge that no matter what happens I’ll be here for him, and I know that he’ll be here for me.  

Eventually, we pull away, both with wide smiles on our faces. Our foreheads rest against each other, and our breathing begins to steady. For a long quiet moment, we just stare at each other, comforted by the other's presence.  

“I know what I want my prize to be,” Ash whispers as he wraps his arms around me and leads us both in a slow sway to music that only He can hear.  

That’s right he still hasn’t claimed his prize yet. Last year he asked for some pastries and the year before that he had asked for my old pair of boots. Neither of which surprised me if I'm honest, normally it's easy to guess what he wants, but this year something feels off.   

“Alright, your wish is my command,” I say with a slight chuckle, and I try to move us into a proper waltz, but Ash doesn’t let me. Instead, he wraps himself around me even tighter than before and we stop moving altogether. Okay, something is seriously wrong; I’d be blind to not see it.   

Before I can ask him what the problem is, he pulls back and cups my face in both hands. Confused, I look into his eyes only to find him staring at me with such an intense look it startles me.   

“I want you to promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow you will keep helping my family,” he says with such finality that I struggle to respond.   

Why would tomorrow be any different than any other reaping day? He can’t possibly think that he’s going to be the one reaped. It’s almost always somebody neither of us has heard of. It’s sad to see them go but at the end of the day, they’re nobody.   

Ash is somebody.  

If he gets reaped there would be an uproar. Right? But what could anybody do if he was? What could I do if he was? Nothing. I could do absolutely nothing. Just like he would be able to do nothing if I’m the one who’s reaped.  

This must be what he’s been worried about all day. Why Ash is convinced that he’s going to be the one going into the Games I’m not sure, but if it’ll calm him down then I’ll promise him what he wants.   

“Okay, I’ll make sure they’re alright”, I say nodding my head and reaching out to cover his hands that still hold my face. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t.  

“I need you to say you promise”, Ash pleads, and I can feel my heart shatter when I notice that he’s starting to cry. Without thinking I pull him into me wrapping myself around him.   

“I promise you, Ash. As long as I live nothing will ever happen to them.”   

#thanks anon! #emma writes🪶 #its pride month whenever i say it is. its part of the super powers lesbians have if u didnt know #is this good? no but im tired of staring at it everyday. #ash fairchild. #mc vesper. #mc calling everyone who isnt ash nobodies kinda makes me chuckle im ngl #also if i mess up any pronouns in m!ashs version please let me know its like 5am and i literally can't see any errors anymore #i know theyre there i just cant find them #drabbles.