#really on the brink of not being so chill after all

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 4)

Platonic yandere Whitebeard Pirates & Reader-insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: Platonic yandere behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of drugging, and threats of imprisonment/mind break. If any of these make you uncomfortable, please do not read this series. Feel free to block the tag "oh sweet child of mine" and particularly any variation of "yandere one piece".

Do not tolerate any of this behavior in real life.

Have fun and stay safe!

Word Count: 2,890

Awareness didn’t come to you so much as it ebbed and flowed by.

Brief snippets of footsteps far away. The distant chatter of men. Wood groaning with the faintest sensation of movement.

At some point, you felt something heavy and furry slip into your arms, a deep rumbling purr easing you back to sleep. You were warm and comfortable. No one was trying to wake you before you were ready. All your aches and pains were gone. And your head was stuffed with cotton that soaked up any thought that crossed your mind.

You think someone checked on you at one point. A warm calloused hand brushing your face before your unexpected bed partner gave a sweet mewl of complaint and shoved their furry face over your head. Their purr rumbling directly over your eyes as your nose scrunched up at the disturbance. They chuckled warmly.

“How did you even get in here, ‘Tatsu?” he whispered, pulling the blanket up your shoulder. “I know Thatch didn’t brew tea that strong… man, the marines must have been running you ragged, sweetie. But you can sleep in here as long as you need. Promise… It’s rough sometimes but… we really will take care of you, you know? Just… give us a chance to prove it?” he stroked your hair before retreating.

Another metallic click of a lock.

You fell back asleep.

Your eyes opened up reluctantly, your body numb to all but the most persistent commands. Fumbling and blearily petting the large… bob cat? Laying next to you with the most content mewls? Utterly adorable. Almost adorable enough to distract you from how difficult it was to move.

You must have slept in too long. And too hard at that. You flopped over and closed your eyes for a little bit longer, giving your body time to work properly.

Come to think of it, why hadn’t you been woken up before now? Williams was ever so eager to hit the town and patrol. And if not him, then many others would have woken you up for one reason or another. A report to make. Training to do. Cleaning. Wrangling in Williams before he burns someone’s house down. Any number of reasons, really. But no one… did?

And who’s cat were you cuddling anyway? No complaints here but… who the hell had such a massive cat?

You reached out, brushing your hand over the sheets as, quite suddenly, the sensation of fabric constricting your wrist registered. You fumbled, smacking your hands together as you blindly felt for the offending object. It was kind of soft, the excess trailing onto the bed from where it was secured. That wasn’t part of your uniform…

Oh.

Wait, no it was! It was part of your uniform!

It hit you suddenly. Fire Fist in the town. Stefan—the criminally cute criminal dog—and running afoul of The Phoenix. Being kidnapped and stripped of your uniform to meet Whitebeard. Who approved of you for some reason.

Sensations were now properly registering as you slowly sat up. No longer sensory-blind, you looked around the dark room. No light to be seen, it was only the crack under the doorway that gave you anything to go by.

Right. The drugged tea… you were going to be more careful of anything Twin-Blade served you from now on. Why bother drugging you? Where would you go in the middle of the ocean from, presumably, the bowels of the ship?

The big cat mewled sweetly, shoving their wet nose into your neck and licked plaintively. You shuddered with a chuckle, reaching up with a much more cooperative limb to rub their ear. It went over fantastically well, as you expected.

Now, you just need to figure out where your glasses went and what the hell was going on.

--*--

“C’mon, Marco, please let me have the key~?” Thatch cried out, throwing himself onto Marco’s side as he bat his eyes. Marco gave a slight, annoyed sigh.

“No, yoi. You’re not going to wake them up.” Marco stated firmly while he ate lunch.

“But they’ve been asleep for so long! Without eating!” Thatch pleaded, laying his front on the table.

“And who’s fault is that?” Marco pondered distantly, chewing a well-seasoned piece of sea king meat. Across the room Oyaji chuckled at Thatch’s dramatics and Marco’s predicament. Ace was just busy shoving food down into his bottomless pit of a stomach like he never heard of the word ‘table manners’. And nothing anyone ever did has managed to change that since he had joined the crew.

“I wanna meet them! Properly!” Thatch wept as though this situation wasn’t his own damn fault.

“No.” Marco finished his meal and stood up to go check himself. Hopefully, they’ll have woken up on their own by now. He had ducked his head in to check on you before eating and you were still sound asleep. Kotatsu somehow having snuck in. If he hadn’t been around the big cat for about two years now, he wouldn’t have believed Ace that he didn’t let Kotatsu in. Guess it wasn’t just Stefan that loved you already, the dog having kept vigil for nearly two hours at your door until Oyaji took him to bed himself.

Thatch jolted up, hopeful as could be, until Marco shot him a look and wilted. Back to mumbling forlorn complaints about ‘no longer being loved as he should be’ or something.

“… I guess if they’re awake now they’ll need to eat something.” Marco observed as he slowly walked away, knowing full well he was getting Thatch’s hopes up. “Not from you though. I doubt they’ll forget about the tea anytime soon.” Marco shot a look back to find Thatch as little more than a puddle of tears.

Good.

He deserved it.

Marco casually made his way from the mess hall to where your room was situated.

It was… a bit of a spur of the moment idea. Taking you.

Really, he was content to watch over the loading of supplies by the rest of the crew while Ace got out his energy on the town. Then he got the call that Stefan had decided to board the Moby Junior ship—as well as the confirmation that he’d slipped out after Ace. Which meant he needed to case the island to figure out where the dumb dog went. Really, Stefan should have known better. Why he decided to explore now of all times, Marco wasn’t sure. But he had to bring him back anyway.

Which lead to you.

A marine who decided their time was better spent giving a goofy dog water than helping your own comrade fight Ace. Lavishing the dog with attention, really. And after seeing your comrade’s attitude he couldn’t really blame you. The idea of any of his own brothers acting like that made his eyes narrow with fury. Cocky and arrogant with no regard for the people around him, way worse than Ace during his assassin days—at least Ace ensured his antics only affected Oyaji. Then again, Ace was clearly hurting and deeply depressed.

That guy—Marco didn’t bother remembering his name, why should he?—was just an asshole.

And the punch was just unnecessary.

Even at that moment, Marco didn’t intend to… surprise recruit you. Just fix your broken nose and maybe offer some advice. At least you had more sense than most marines he’d met. You didn’t even try to fight him or get involved with Ace’s fight, aware of your own limits. The amount of marines that threw themselves at Marco hoping to somehow defeat him, when they couldn’t even beat Stefan, was just sad.

Then you looked up at him with teary eyes, glasses on the ground with a cracked lens, and blood all over your hands. Pupils unfocused and unsteady. You didn’t even look surprised that your comrade had broken your nose for trying to save his sorry hide. Just surprised that anyone was willing to help you. And even then, Marco just felt bad for you. You held promise and it was just being wasted on ungrateful assholes. You were going to be one of those marines that actually meant something to people, he could already tell.

Then he touched you and the world exploded in blue fire. His devil fruit sang. Like on flights at dawn when seagulls brave enough to do so decided to join him. Peace and a strange mix of security and strength washed over him like Oyaji’s good booze. He felt your injury like it was his own as it was washed away in an instant. All of them were. Little aches and pains from being overworked and underappreciated. In fact, the sensation was so much so that it took him longer than it should have to realize he needed to reign it in before he fully transformed. And through it all was your wide-eyed expression of surprise, red blood washed in golden light.

Incredible intrigue took over his thoughts. He wanted that again. More of it. Wanted to selfishly hoard the feeling of kinship he had for those precious few seconds. Like the height of a party with his family on a forgotten beach somewhere with he world far away and anything worth caring about in arms reach. That was when he decided to take you.

You tried to look around him but he wouldn’t have it. Forced you—gently, you’re family now—to look at him as he asked you who you were. What all of this was.

“M-My devil fruit! It—uhm—affects other devil fruits? Makes… makes them stronger around me. O-Or just… touching.” You stuttered out as hot fury settled in his chest.

Very few devil fruits directly affect other fruits without them being… adversaries. Ice and fire fruits most famously tend to…conflict even under the best circumstances. To have a devil fruit that specifically empowers other devil fruits was extraordinary. And out of what Marco assumed was sheer stupidity and arrogance, you weren’t safely kept under lock and key by an admiral. At minimum. Perhaps a secretary for Sengoku since you’re clearly too inexperienced at combat to be a front-line fighter, as well as at a disadvantage with your fruit. Or an apprentice for someone of note in literally any of the blues.

Not with some laughably weak ensign. Any of the supernovas or one of Big Mom’s many children could have easily stumbled across you by now. And just—plucked—you right up. And one of the marine’s best upcoming resources would be gone in an instant. You weren’t even being treated like the promising recruit you were, either. Where was your commanding officer? Fellow recruits? Someone—anyone—to encourage comradery and loyalty to your fellow marines?

What an absolutely criminal waste.

Marco came to a stop in front of your door, fishing out the key from his pocket.

You’d do far better here than with any of them. He wasn’t sure why you were a marine to start with but he’d make sure you found support here that you certainly weren’t getting there. You’ll find a place where you belong—with them—soon enough.

He’d make sure of it.

Marco opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to find you sitting up, though struggling under Kotatsu’s hefty weight, and squinting around the room for your glasses. He chuckled, flicking on the light and closing the door, plucking your cracked glasses.

He slid them onto your face, tapping your nose gently even though the brief contact teased his devil fruit immensely.

“Afternoon, blue bird.” Marco grinned. “You slept for a long time. How are you feeling?” He asked, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You looked at him nervously and a little weirded out. Marco knew that you’d adjust eventually, so he found amusement in your expression instead.

“Uh… Alright. How long was I out?” You asked softly, leaning back as Kotatsu oozed onto your lap for scritches. Without even thinking about it, you obliged, relaxing against the big cat that you definitely didn’t know before waking up.

“Well, it’s actually been well over a day. Guess you must have really needed the rest.” Marco observed, noting that you looked much livelier than before. “But you’re probably really hungry now, aren’t you? C’mon, I’ll show you where to get food.”

Your nose scrunched up in confusion.

“Get food? Aren’t I… being locked in this room?” You asked. Which, yes, that’s part of the plan. Mostly for when you go to sleep or if they run into trouble before you integrate properly. It’ll hopefully cut down on the nonsense. Like attempts to contact the marines or escape on your own.

Marco chuckled, indulging himself a little as he cupped your cheek, fire barely flickering over his knuckle as you gawked at him.

“Well, not all the time, no. Don’t worry, we’ll all keep an eye out for you while you adjust.” You looked like you ate something sour and Marco couldn’t help but laugh, fully aware of your current feelings on the matter. “It’s not quite what you expected but you’ll love it here, really. Just… give it a chance.”

You grimaced again, looking away nervously.

“And if I still want to be a marine?” You asked suspiciously.

Marco refrained from laughing as something hot and distinctly feral sneered. Gently, his brushed his hand back a little more and tilted your face to him firmly. Pressing his forehead to yours as he gave you an indulgent but understanding look. He wanted you to understand that you were here to stay.

You were lucky that he hadn’t made you room with him for the time being to make sure of it. But if you did somehow managed to slip away from the ship well…

He’d rip apart whatever ship you were sailing on and keep you in his talons until you gave up on being anywhere else.

“You won’t.” Marco smiled, dangerously close to transforming and indulging his phoenix form in the kinship you exuded.

But you were hungry and already nervous enough as it was. Wide eyes clearly fearful for his next action. You just didn’t understand yet. Naïve and so optimistic you became a marine, of course you didn’t get it yet. He wasn’t going to hurt you. You were safe here, even from your own misconceptions. He’d make sure of it in due time.

But first, you had to trust him.

Reluctantly, Marco let go and backed off, having made his point.

This wasn’t like with Ace, who just needed to be shown that there were people willing to love him right where he was. Angry and bitter at the world that spat at him.

You needed to see that you were safe here. That anything you could ever need was readily available in this ship, with this crew. Your skills, your sweet attitude, your everything was wasted as a marine. It would simply never be appreciated in their ranks like it should be. But here was an exception. His family and him would be the exception.

And you’d stay right where you were until you learned that. If you proved to struggle with this simple concept because of your naivety? Well, the door had a perfectly functional lock. A week or two of being handled personally would do the trick just fine. You did look quite cute after drinking Thatch’s special ‘welcoming’ tea, dizzy and stumbling as their words passed over your head. Maybe spending that time being reminded how confusing and overwhelming the world really is would speed things up. It certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Pain would just make you afraid of him. Of them. Hurting you to prove a point is what those marines would do. No. That wouldn’t do at all and isn’t how they ever did things if they could help it.

You’ll love them. Wouldn’t imagine a world without them.

And Marco couldn’t wait to see it happen.

--*--

Garp relaxed in his chair, eating rice crackers as Sengoku received the report grimly. Garp winced as the receiver was slammed down.

After a moment of—relative—silence, Garp spoke up.

“…Welp, there goes that plan.” Sengoku glared at him. “What?! Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t my idea to station them all the way out there!”

After a moment, Sengoku relaxed, sighing with his whole body as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know it’s just… the trial period was almost over and we could have moved them where they were supposed to be from the start.” Sengoku hissed.

“Well, I know why we didn’t do it from the start—that devil fruit is weird—but you know I would have trained them myself if you asked. Sweet kid. Really more of an animal person though, eheh~!” Garp cackled. “Promising recruit too.”

Sengoku huffed, leaning back in his chair with a groan.

“… We’re going to have to tell him, you know.” Sengoku groaned louder, sinking into his seat at Garp’s words. “He’s going to be pissed though… Welp! I guess that’s why you’re the Fleet Admiral.” Garp grinned, swiftly running out of the office with an extra pack of rice crackers.

“Y-YOU! GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!”

Hell no. Senny could deliver that news himself.

#one piece yandere #platonic yandere #reader insert #oh sweet child of mine #yandere marco #marco the phoenix #yandere one piece #marco is absolutely intense under that calm exterior #really on the brink of not being so chill after all #its the birb instinct to hoard nice things #and you're the nicest prize he's taken yet ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧ #yandere whitebeard crew

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

#like. to be clear this was the first time i've been literally anywhere but doctor's appointments in 4 years #not just because of the pandemic but because of mental and physical exhaustion #so it was a Big Mistake to go from 0 to 100 and not ease myself into it at all #but at the same time........ it was a fucking hellscape of people. i don't think any kind of buildup could have prepared me for it at all. #it was so much less crowded in 2020 (ironically the very last place i ever went; literally on the BRINK of covid) #and now idk what it's become. a monster con. it was unbelievable. #but i was only there for less than an hour but i was so so so terrified that i very nearly left before even seeing him #i couldn't even fully enjoy meeting him as kind as he was because i was so anxious and distracted #and when i got back to the car i just fucking cried......... #the last five days i've just been sitting in fear waiting to feel Any sort of symptoms #i wore two masks and again was barely there for long but Still #and everyone around me was so chill as if everything was normal and No One was wearing a mask :))))) it's not fucking fair man :))))) #insert the 'they don't know' meme; they don't know how much covid can destroy your body even if you get a 'mild' case #i would never want to be that ignorant even if i wasn't disabled and didn't have reason to worry (but everyone has reason to worry!!!) #but also. ignorance is bliss and it just really fucking sucks man. #it really fucking sucks. why do they get to be happy and enjoying life and not /me?/ #why can't i do just ONE thing for myself without having it tainted by anxiety and fear that i'm going to die horribly??? #while they get to do fucking EVERYTHING??? #if they all just wore masks we could all enjoy ourselves much more comfortably than some of us are now #but no that's too much to ask from people 🙃🙃🙃 #shit sucks man. the world sucks. something that should be a happy memory for me was simultaneously the most awful experience #and i don't know how to feel about it now that it's over #he knew that i was afraid and at the end he told me that he hoped to see me again at another event someday #and that made me cry because it felt like dazai telling me to live. and i want to. but i don't know how to when the world is like this now. #i desperately want to be able to see him again someday but right now after how terrifying that was i never want to go to a con ever again.. #i wanted to ask him things about the manga and about dazai but i was being rushed and stressed so i couldn't ugh #(and doing that is hard enough anyway cause disability and i have to talk with my phone bahhhh) #at least i was able to give him my note *sigh*

[baocean]

BRAIDS - ETHAN LANDRY

Summary: it’s hot out, you had the great idea to braid your best friends hair out of his face

Pairing: bestfriend! Ethan x reader

Warnings: p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing

It was summer break from college, you were back at your home upstate.

With you, your friend Ethan. He was your best friend really, you had spent pretty much any free time the two of you had together.

It didn’t take a genius to see how much you two liked each other, but apparently neither of you could catch on.

Your friends spent all year trying to set you up, but the two of you wouldn’t budge. You were convinced he didn’t like you like that, Ethan told his friends you saw him as a friend.

It was so hot outside, the windows to your room opened all the way, letting any bit of breeze in.

You two had just come from sunbathing outside.

Ethan sat next to you on your bed, navy swim shorts and nothing else. A big t-shirt hid your body from the boy next to you, the one you blushed for whenever he looked at your for a beat longer than the rest of your friends.

He was on his phone, pushing his long curls out of his face every few minutes, you noticed.

The book you had in your hand was set aside as you turned to him.

“Let me braid your hair out of the way.” You offered. He looked up at you, eyebrows raised.

“Why?”

“You keep pushing them out of the way, is all.” You shrugged, trying as hard as possible to seem nonchalant.

He looked all over your face, finally saying yes after what felt all too long. You smiled.

Getting onto your knees, your fingers moved to braid his hair. It was hard to with the way you were positioned, barely being able to reach the other side of his head. Ethan saw how you were struggling.

“I can’t-I can’t get it.” You huffed.

Your hands were still in his hair when, in a swift movement, Ethan pulled you into his lap.

You gasped, with no hesitation Ethan had just pulled you onto his lap and now the only thing separating you two was a few pieces of fabric.

The second of friction between your legs sent chills straight to your spine.

“Better?” Ethan asked, the corners of his lips tipping upwards. His hands were still around your waist, his right hand kneading your shirt in his fist.

Your brain turned off right then and there. You were pretty sure nothing would come out if you tried to speak. So, you just hummed a response.

You kept braiding, trying to ignore Ethan’s hand slowly falling from your waist to your thigh, then back up past your butt.

It was even harder to concentrate when Ethan shifted his hips, giving you another electric taste of friction.

Your eyes closed, heading falling forward just slightly.

“You okay, y/n?” Ethan’s voice was just above a whisper. You couldn’t tell if it was his voice or the heat that was making you feel so overwhelmed.

“Yea, almost finished.” You barely got out, begging yourself not to roll your hips on his lap. Your breathing was heavy, on the brink of losing it.

You could feel him, he was hard. You tried your best to ignore it but it was the only thing your brain could even imagine thinking about right now.

“Am I really getting you all worked up by just sitting on my lap, baby? Wait till I actually touch you.” Ethan’s hand came down and sat firmly on your ass, watching as your shocked face fell on his.

He grabbed onto your hips again, grinding them against him. Your mouth fell open, eyes falling closed.

You moaned his name without even realizing it, but you were thankful you did when he bucked his hips up into you.

It felt like you were on fire. Your hands were still in his hair, the braids falling out with his motion.

“Want me to kiss you, pretty girl?” Ethan asked you, giving you a sweet smile. You couldn’t even think, just a nod and a smile.

He brought you close, pecking your lips once before devouring you. His lips were all over you, all while he was still moving your perfect hips in a perfect rhythm against his perfect lap. It was all so perfect.

You were prepared to cum right there, still fully clothed, just dry humping. You hadn’t gotten with anyone in so long due to your crush on the boy under you right now.

When he pulled your shirt over your head, he looked up at you with those pretty chocolate eyes and you melted.

Unclipping the back of your swimsuit top, he watched it fall from your body. You felt his dick twitch.

“You’re so pretty, baby. J’wanna look at you forever.”

His lips closed around your nipple, his fingers delicately flicking and teasing the other. You moaned out, rolling your hips on his again.

“Please, E. Please.” His laugh sent vibrations straight to your center. He pulled back and gave you another kiss on your lips.

“What d’you want? Tell me.” He taughted you. You had dealt with a sassy Ethan before, it was his biggest personality trait. But when your tits were in his mouth and his dick was rubbing against your clit, it turned you on rather than annoyed you.

“Please, I want you to fuck me. Want it so bad, Eth.” You begged. Literally begged. Your head fell back as your delicate fingers played with his curls on the back of his head.

“All you had to do was ask, angel.” He grinned, kissing you again. “Been wanting this forever.”

Your swimsuit bottom was soaked, creating a dark patch on Ethan’s swim trunks.

He pulled the dark blue bikini bottom to the side, sliding his middle finger through your folds and circling your clit. Your whole body reacted, twitching as he played with that little bundle of nerves.

You gasped when his finger slid into you, moaning and wiggling on top of him. He pumped in and out of you so deliciously.

You watched him, while he watched himself finger you. His chest heaved.

When he added a second finger, it was over for you. The rubber band snapped and you came right on top of him. You watched your cum slowly drip down onto his fingers. He pulled his long digits out of you, slowly bringing them to his mouth and sucking them.

Ethan smiled up at you, giving you another kiss as he slid his shorts down. You lifted your hips up, almost in a trance.

“You want to?” He asked you, pushing your hair out of your face with his free hand. It was sweet and gentle, just like Ethan.

You nodded, kissing his lips and watching as he positioned himself. He slid into you so slow you thought you were going to die.

He was so big, filling you up and bottoming out. He let out a small moan. You kept that sound and locked it up in your brain for a later date.

When he finally started moving his hips back and forth, you swore you saw heaven.

Your hands left his hair and wrapped around his big shoulders.

He looked so pretty like this. Just a tiny bit sweaty, completely concentrated on you.

“Oh my god, Eth. Feels so good.” Your voice was interrupted with each trust.

“God you feel so good. Like you were meant for me. Meant for my dick.” His hand came up to your cheek, planting yet another kiss onto your lips.

His hand left your cheek and came down to circle your clit and you cried out.

“E, I’m gonna cum.” Your head came down to lean on his shoulder, his pace not slowing.

“Me too, love. Go ahead.” His words came out in a whisper as he ghosted your lips.

You came for the second time, nearly screaming as you clenched around him.

Ethan’s cum shot into you, blowing your mind to pieces and forcing your eyes to roll back into your head.

His moans and whimpers were almost enough to make you come for the third time.

When he slowed down, he went back to kissing you, but still hadn’t pulled out yet.

You wrapped your arms around his body, molding together perfectly.

“Don’t get close I’m sweaty.” Ethan pulled away from you as he laughed.

The realization of what just happened sank in, you were more proud than ashamed or scared.

You just had sex with your best friend.

“I have just the thing.” You pulled him up, grabbing onto his hand and leading him to the bathroom.

..

#ethan landry #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry smut #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 34: Stay and leave

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None really [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You wouldn't have thought that shadowing Dolores Umbridge was the worst part of the Voldemort takeover. But surprisingly, it is. The woman takes a true delight in bringing dread and sorrow to other people. 

You're not even listening to the hag questioning the poor Muggle-born witches and wizards. Instead, you write letters with no intention to send them. They're mostly to Sirius. You miss the man. The safety and comfort he provided is a far-away concept in the middle of the war.

Sirius,  How are you? Are you safe? Is the Order still fighting the fight? I wish I could join. But I am under close observation at the Manor. The Dark Lord has great expectations for me and I am scared what will happen if I don't follow them to a T.  I am married now. For a while actually. To Theodore Nott. It's the same boy who was at the hospital. Despite it being a forced marriage, I am happy it's him. He takes good care of me, so don't worry. We keep each other safe in the eye of the war.  How are Harry, Hermione and Ron? Are they safe? The last thing I've heard was that they are on the run for the Ministry. Do you know what they are doing? Maybe I can find some things out for them to help them?

You look up from the letter and your frustration with the words on the page only grows when you look at the pink hag. There is a constant high-pitched ringing that follows Umbridge wherever she goes. And it seems like only you can hear it. It brings you to the brink of insanity and your hands itch to grab your wand and silence the witch and the ringing once and for all.

A chill rolls over your back while your head twitches. The thoughts scare you. And they have been getting a lot worse ever since you have been ordered to shadow the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. You glance up at the ceiling, where a pack of dementors hoover above the Patronus barrier Umbridge created. 

Mafalda Hopkirk has been giving you skittish looks the whole time and every time you give her a small but awkward smile when you catch her eyes. She then quickly looks away, her eyes wide as saucers. Shaking your head, you crumple up the letter to Sirius and put it in the pocket of your jacket. 

The high-pitched ringing around Dolores picks up when she speaks. "Marry Elisabeth Cattermole. Of 27 Chislehurst Gardens, Great Tolling, Evesham?"

"Yes", whispers Mrs Cattermole scared.

"Mother to Masie, Ellie, and Alfred? Wife to Reginald?"

Mrs Cattermole turns her head. Her husband gets dragged in by Albert Runcorn, the former having a skittish look on his face. Mafalda tenses in her seat at the arrival of the two men and you raise your brows. Interesting.

Mr Cattermole goes to stand next to the chair his wife is seated on while Runcorn stands in the doorway.

Umbridge continues after thanking Runcorn, "Marry Elisabeth Cattermole? A wand has been taken for you upon your arrival at the Ministry, Mrs Cattermole. Is this that wand?" She holds up the wand.

Runcorn starts to circle Mrs Cattermole as she answers the crude questions the hag throws at her, her voice getting thick with desperation.

As Umbridge accuses Mrs Cattermole of lying, Runcorn's face hardens with hatred. It piques your interest as the man always has seen impartiality of the many claims Dolores makes. You sit up straight, no longer leaning with your head on your hand.

As the poor woman begs her husband to defend her, the ringing intensifies. It's almost unbearable. Your head snaps towards Umbridge, seeing that Runcorn has snuck upon her, his wand in his hand.

Suddenly, Runcorn's face starts to bubble and deform. A nightmarish sight as his face morphs. "You're lying, Dolores. And one mustn't tell lies." 

Runcorn- no Harry! Harry fires stupify at Umbridge, who slumps in her seat. As Mafalda reaches out and janks something from her neck, Mr. Cattermole hits Yaxley with a spell, which makes him fall off his seat.

You have no clue why the two strangers help Harry, but you're quick on your feet, running after them as they bolt out of the interrogation room with Mrs. Cattermole. 

The dementors swoop after you as the Patronus charm disappears with Umbridge rendered unconscious. Just before you jump after them in the elevator you send your hippogriff down the hall, which fends off the dementors.

The elevator speeds off and you're met with two pairs of wands in your face. You hold up your hands in surrender as you try to catch your breath. "Please", you pant, "I'm on your side. We have to escape the Ministry as soon as possible as it is likely that the fireplaces will be shut off at any moment. But we have to pretend. Please..."

Mr Cattermole takes a step towards you, his wife still tightly clutching his arm. "And why should we believe you?" Now that you hear his voice you recognise him. It's Ron. So that means that Mafalda is... the Poli-juice has run out of her system and Hermione looks at you, an unreadable expression on her face. But she gives Ron and Harry a look that tells them to trust you.

The doors of the elevator open and you all bolt out. You decided to run behind them so it looks like you're chasing them. As the police storm your group, spells fly around your ears. You can hardly dodge them.

"They're mine!", you growl at Yaxley as you pass him, throwing spells yourself that you misfire on purpose. 

With Yaxley hot on your heels, you fire Depulso at the man so he crashes into the opposite wall, before diving after the Golden Trio into the last open fireplace.

You twist and turn, your body contorting uncomfortably until you roll onto the ground, dirt and try leaves in your mouth. You cough and wheeze as you try and scramble upon your feet.

Your wand flies out of your hand and a hot glowing tip gets pushed into your face. You up scared at Harry as he holds you at wand point. But painful wailing catches your attention and you look to the side.

Ron lies squirming on the ground, the flesh of his arm removed in graceful twists. Blood coats Hermione's hands as she tries to comfort the wailing redhead.

She yells to Harry for him to grab the bottle of Dittany from her bag. As he searches haphazardly, you reach for your wand before crawling towards them. "I know a spell. Please, let me help."

Hermione nods, tears and panic paint her face. Closing your eyes, you begin to recount the sing-like incantation of Vulnera Sanentur, the same spell Snape used on you after your incident in the toilets a couple months back.

Ron's twitching slowly eases as his wounds gradually close. Hermione pets Ron's head while she watches you work. Her bloodied hands leave red streaks on his forehead.

You sit back on your heels, watching your spell work. Your eyes travel from Hermione and Ron towards Harry, who stands off to the side with something in his hand. A necklace or some sort.

"Why- what were you thinking?! Do you realise how incredibly dangerous the Ministry is right now for you lot?!" You raise from your feet, dusting off your knees. You run frustrated a hand over your face. "Was it at least worth it?"

Hermione and Harry share a look with each other, the former giving Harry a sympathetic look. Harry sighs and holds up his hand, showing you what Hermione snatched from Umbridge. A locket.

You reach for it and when you touch it, a weird feeling goes through you and your head twitches violently to the side. And so does Harry's. 

"Wha-what is it?"

Harry still looks hesitant. "A Horcrux."

Raising your eyebrows, you look at Harry, silently asking him to explain.

The bespectacled boy sighs. "You-Know-Who has split his soul into seven pieces in order to be immortal and put them in objects. And to defeat him, all those objects need to be destroyed."

Your eyes flicker towards the locket. "So... You're telling me that a part of the Dark Lord's soul is in that locket?"

Harry nods and you sigh heavily. "How many did you destroy already?"

"Dumbledore managed to destroy two, but other than this one we have no clue what those objects are."

Chewing on your bottom lip you frown, thinking deeply. "I imagine that the Dark Lord keeps those objects close to him or in a secured place. I mean... I wouldn't be surprised if Nagini is a Horcrux. She's everywhere he goes. Except for a couple of times, she's with me when it is not safe for her to join him."

While you and Harry discuss the locket, Hermione has set up a tent and is placing protective charms around the encampment. Her voice makes you turn towards her.

"I have to go. If I stay any longer people will be suspicious."

"You-you can stay", blurts Harry out, his eyes wide. "With us... if you want. Or we can bring you to Sirius, where you are under the protection of the Order." He takes a step towards you, his hand reaching out. But you flinch away from him, not having forgotten the pain his curse caused.

You shake your head, playing with the ring on your finger. "You know I can't Harry. I'm so afraid of what they'll do to him if I don't return. Once they discover I betrayed them, they will kill Teddy to make an example. I am sure of it." Your bottom lip wobbles at the thought of those warm, brown eyes staring up at you blankly. Just like Mrs Burbage's.

"You're married?" Hermione has finished the protective enchantments and grabs your hand, examining the ring. "It's beautiful..." Her eyes catch the faded outline of the bracelet around your wrist and frowns. She looks at you with silent questions in her eyes.

You snatch your hand away, tugging it behind your back. "Ancient wizarding traditions", you say, hoping it explains enough. 

You turn around to walk out of the protective barrier, but just before you stop. Turning around, you say, "you have to hit me with a spell. Preferably in my face."

"I'll do it", quips Ron, who you honestly to Merlin kind of forgot that he was there. Hermione shoots him a look.

"Yaxley saw me leave with you. I can't come back and claim to have battled you without any proof. I'm not saying you have to break my nose. But just a few cuts here and there."

After some convincing Hermione reluctantly agrees to do it, as she is arguably the most skilled out of all of them. She stands a few metres away from you, wand at the ready. 

"Just... don't scar my face again, please", you say before closing your eyes. 

You hear Hermione take a sharp breath in before wordlessly firing a spell your way. It hits you square in your face and sends you flying back a few metres. A pained groan escapes you as Hermione hurries towards you, helping you to your feet.

"How do I look?", you ask weakly, half a smile on your face. You feel blood run out of your nose and staining your lips while your forehead stings. "Thanks for not going easy on me."

Hermione engulfs you in a tight hug. "Please be careful."

You hug her for what could be the last time for a very long time before stepping outside of the boundary. The encampment is gone when you turn around. Taking a deep breath you dissipate back to the Manor.

You land safely back in your and Theo's bedroom. Expect it's a total mess. Every door, drawer, and cabinet is wide open, and clothes and papers are strewn about. Everything is turned over like it was searched for something. And then you see it. The box you stored all your letters to Sirius is pulled from its hiding place under your bed and empty, every letter taken away.

Shit! SHIT!

The door flies open and you raise your wand. Theo stands in the door opening, eyes wide and hair dishevelled like he has been running his hand through it. 

The two of you stare at each other before it finally clicks in your mind. You wildly search the pockets of your coat for the letter you wrote today. But it's gone.

Within two strides, Theo's next to you and grabbing your face, wiping the blood away. "What happened? They are turning the house inside out in search of you. Why are you covered in blood?"

"You have to leave", you say, turning around and grabbing the first bag you find and stuffing it with clothes for him. But he grabs your arm which effectively stops you. You look at him guiltily, casting your eyes to the ground. 

"I'm not leaving without you."

You shake your head. "Listen to me, Teddy, please. They will kill you if you don't leave. Please." As you beg, you grab his hand and push the bag into his hold. "Quickly, before they find me."

You hear footsteps down the hall. Panic floods your system and you look around the room. you spot one of the first letters you wrote for Sirius and take it, pressing it in his hand. "Go to 12 Grimmauld Place and show them this letter."

"I'm not leaving without you. We're married, (Y/n). We're supposed to do this together."

Shaking your head, you hear the people near your room. "Now, Theodore", you growl, your breath picking up. 

Just before the Death Eaters storm your room you hear the distinct sound of disapparition and Theo is gone.

The door gets thrown open and a handful of Death Eaters pour into your room. "Get her!", one says before they pound upon you.

Taglist: (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter scenarios #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x riddle!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy scenarios #theodore nott #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x riddle!reader #hogwarts #hogwarts scenarios #hogwarts x reader #hogwarts x y/n #hogwarts x you #hogwarts x slytherin!reader #hogwarts x riddle!reader #hogwarts!au #slytherin!reader #riddle!reader

[ethereal-engene]

hey tayo? but that's appa!

pairing: enhypen!husband maknae line x fem!reader

genre: slice-of-life, husband/father AU, fluff, and attempted humor // warnings: none

summary: how I think the maknae line would react to you showing your kid’s (like the kid is yours and his) hey tayo/billy poco

word count: ~1.5k

note: THANK YOU THANK YOU so much to anon who requested this! I’m sorry for the long wait 😭 I hope you enjoy this <3 your message made my day so much when I got it!! // hyung line ver

Sunoo

You’re in the living room with your child as they watch tayo the little bus on the tv

It’s been a long day with them running around and playing pretend with them. Oh and of course, they spent a lot of time running away from you while trying to put on their clothes

They bring you lots of joy but it can still be tiring

So you settle for some tv time before nap time and you’re on the brink of falling asleep until you hear a familiar tune start to play that instantly wakes you up

It’s the one and only billy poco music video

You hold in your laughter and watch your child’s reaction to it and they have stars in their eyes

They 100% recognize their dad and is having the time of their lives right now

Sunoo is in the other room and when he hears it, he smiles and walks over to y’all

Seeing his child dance to this song makes him really happy and his heart full

So he starts showing his kid how to do the dance and sing his lines

Even goes as far to pick them up and spin them around while singing

“Appa! Appa! You met tayo and his friends?? What were they like? Please tell me so I can tell all of my friends how cool my dad is!!” They excitedly take a seat when sunoo sets them down

Sunoo gently shhhs them and making a motion to calm down

“To answer your question love bug, I did meet them and they were all so friendly and kind. If you promise me to be kinder to mommy and help her out by listening to her, I’ll make sure you get a special gift from tayo! Can you do that for me, love bug?” Sunoo asks while staring at them

They nod so much that you worry their head is gonna roll off. Not long after, they go over to you and apologize for running away earlier

You tell them it’s okay and that you accept their apology

“Now, can we please play the song again?? I really like appa’s voice, it’s so pretty!”

Handing him the remote, he replays it and sits next to you. Sunoo gently lifts your head up so he can move his arm through you & then places your head onto his arm

So your neck is more comfy and you smile at each other

Watching your little bundle of joy enjoy this song is a great memory and one that you both won’t forget

It fills his heart with pride and happiness that he was able to have made something for his kid to appreciate growing up

Bonus, the kid got a happy birthday message AND a message from tayo & his friends telling them that they love them and they should be listen to their parents

Jungwon

As far as I can tell jungwon seems to be pretty chill about singing hey tayo or billy poco

So much that he’s actually the one showing your kid(s) the music video

(gotta switch up the scenario for wonnie🥺)

He’s teaching them the lyrics and how to sing it

Not even gonna lie, you thought you were just hearing things as you were in another room doing another chore for the house

But then as you listen, you recognize that he’s really playing the song that you’re hearing

Curiosity gets the best of you and take a peek out of the door to see them

Your heart melts as you watch them play with jungwon

Trying to dance and sing like their dad 🤧

Jungwon has no shame in his career, even if he had to sing some kid songs

He lets them sing it to him, despite it being off-key

Sooner or later, you join them and ask them if they recognize their “appa”

Not even taking a moment to think, they point to jungwon

“Appa looks like an agi here. He was so cute, but I love appa now too! Appa, how come you met Tayo before I was born?? You could have taken me.” They pout and sulk a little when they remember this fact about their dad

Jungwon looks at you for help but you gesture it’s your probelm not mine

“Oh sweetheart, if I had known you wanted to come I would have brought you. Don’t worry, next time I get to meet Tayo, I’ll bring you with me, is it okay?” He asks them while holding them up in air

“okay okay!! YAY!! Appa you’re the best! Now let me down please!” And of course, jungwon obliged to the request

Not long after, they get tired and you put them down for nap time

Heading over to where Jungwon is, you tell him “Honey, that was a good save there. Sorry I couldn’t help you out, but I honestly wanted to see what’d you say.”

You plant a small kiss on cheek after finishing your sentence and drag him to the couch to nap

“I can’t believe you let fend for myself back there but I gotta say having quick wits and thinking is just a skill I learned from being a leader.”

He places your head on his chest and gives you a forehead kiss before napping with you

Ni-ki

It’s not that Ni-ki hates billy poco or hey tayo, it’s just notttt what he really expected to be doing when he became an idol

Anyways let’s get to the story

You, the kid, and Ni-ki were out and about

Probably shopping at the mall and stopped by a kids shop

The kids shop has a tv on and it’s playing hey tayo

Before Riki even registers it, his child is watching the TV screen with a dazed look on their face

They look at the TV screen and then back to their dad (and repeat the process for a few times)

Riki still hasn’t registered it until his kid runs up to him asking him about it

He is confused as ever like where and how did they learn about this

Riki wanted to pretend it didn’t exist 😭

Before he gets any questions out, you point to the screen and his eyes just pop

He feels like his world is falling apart (he’s so dramatic)

Legit drops down to his knees and hands on his head

Your child thinks they did something wrong and starts to get worried

Runs over to their dad and hugs him

“I’m sorry if I made you sad otōsan . I just wanted to know if you were the same guy on the screen. I didn’t mean to make you cry, please don’t be sad!”

You lovingly smack Riki on the back of the head. MAKING YOUR KID CRY LIKE THAT??

“Riki, if you don’t get your butt up, I’m going to give you something to actually cry about. And bubba, don’t worry. Otōsan isn’t sad, he’s just not happy but don’t worry, we’ll make it all better!”

Slightly scolding him, you gesture him to explain to their child about this

He wipes their tears away and hugs them tightly back.

“Oh bubba, no no. You didn’t make me sad. I was just shocked that this song was still playing. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry for making you feel that way earlier. Yes, I’m in the video, a long time ago I filmed a video and song for tayo and his friends. I’ll tell you more about at home, is that okay?”

They hug him back and nod. “It’s okay otōsan, I still love you and I think you look the coolest! Especially when you had your moment with dancing. Can you teach me how to do it?”

Riki nods and kisses them on the head

“Now let’s get back to shopping!” He says before dragging them around the store and playing with them

Before y’all leave the store after checking out, the employee shyly asks for his signature in which he accepts but cringes when he realizes it’s on a tayo product 😭

You are for sure never letting him forget about these songs for tayo and baby shark. You laugh a bit hard when you see what he has to sign

On the bright side, Riki still feels like he’s on top of the world with his kid reassuring him he looks the coolest (even if it’s a kids song)

thank you so much again to the anon who requested this <3 happy holidays and I hope everyone has a safe new years!!

as always if you liked it, please leave feedback through the notes, send me a dm or an ask, or reblog it with your thoughts in the tag !! they really mean the world to me 💗

signing off with love,

- ash

#kflixnet #enhypen x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni-ki x reader #riki x reader #enha x reader #enha imagine #enha fluff #enha scenarios #enha x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen imagines #enhypen maknae line #enhypen #engene #gonna try to write my jacob comfort fic now

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. 

high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn; something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. 

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased. 

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.  

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue. 

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two. 

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. 

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little. 

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff? 

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think. just a little would be fine. 

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries. 

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage.

your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again. the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist. 

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes. 

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place. 

then he puffs out a breath — amused. 

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. 

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft. 

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away.

almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those irises.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? 

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue. 

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. 

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. 

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

#melancholic fluff my beloved <33 #listened to replicant by yorushika on repeat while writing this ... its so unbelievably gojo coded #i dont write much for hs gojo but i think hes v fun to write when it comes to soft quiet moments like this !! #to me hes kinda like the class clown who mellows out a lot when hes with one single non-judgemental person ... hes a cutie :< #completely obsessed w the idea of reader being like Well . he probably doesnt like me very much #meanwhile gojo is literally standing there teeth gritted like ”dont kiss them dont kiss them dont kiss them” #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo angst

[the-curator1]

In the Darkness of your dreams

Demon!Copia x Fem!Reader

Author Note: This story was inspired by the fantastic fic Call Me, Little Sunshine by @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe. If you haven't read it, go do it now! It's a gem. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out to me.

This one is quite sweet? But I'll promise I'll be more spooky next time.

Summary: It is not easy being a demon. It gets lonely sometimes in a cold empty house. While it can be funny and thrilling to be all threatening and scary, sometimes all he would need is a companion. (≈6500 words)

Tags and TW: Copia POV, reader POV, kind of love at first sight (because I'm a hopeless romantic), home invasion, men being absolute creeps, but Copia is kind of your guardian angel demon, a hint of angst, spooky vibes, a very vivid dream, smut (my first smutty fic)

The old house groaned with the weight of its own history. Copia knew all of its secrets all too well, for he had been bound to this forsaken place for many years now. It was not easy being a demon. Actually, most of the time, it was very lonely. The initial thrill of scaring the inhabitants of the house had long given way to a profound loneliness that gnawed at him like a relentless hunger.

At first, he took delight in watching people flee in terror, their screams of sheer horror echoing in the cold, dimly lit hallways. He revelled in the satisfaction of driving them away. If anyone displeased him, as was often the case, he would relentlessly ensure they never returned.  He would slam doors with thunderous force, create eerie and unsettling noises, whisper chilling words into their ears, break their belongings, make their dog bark and occasionally if pushed to the brink of anger, he would even resort to biting or scratching the intruders. However, he would really show himself on very rare occasions.

But now, it had been an eternity since anyone had dared to settle within the walls of the house. The last intruders had been no more than fleeting shadows, and even their presence had ceased to amuse him. As Copia lingered in the darkness, he pondered the cruel irony of his existence, bound to a house he had come to hate, condemned to an eternity of solitude and yearning for something he could not quite define.

But one day, a man crossed the threshold of the old house. He was neither young nor old, with a presence that sent shivers down Copia's spine. The demon felt something unsettling about this visitor. Even a demon such as him could feel something was off. Instead of unleashing his usual frightful antics, Copia watched, his cold eyes fixed on this new intruder. For a moment, the man inspected the damaged house. It was only after a while that Copia realized the man was surely the new owner: he saw the “For sale” sign in front of the house being removed a few days ago.

His suspicions were confirmed when a group of men in work overalls invaded his place in the following days. They laboured tirelessly, painting the walls, mending the creaking stairs, and reviving the old house. Copia knew what this was about– someone was going to settle in the house. Copia hoped it was not the man that he saw for he did not like him… not at all.

As the once-desolate rooms transformed with each brushstroke and hammer strike, Copia's world shifted with them. The air was filled with the scent of fresh paint, the echoes of hammers and saws, and the laughter of the workers. Copia was not pleased with their unbearable hurly-burly however he decided not to disturb their work. These men were doing nothing but their job, and Copia liked to think of himself as a considerate demon. Moreover, he could not help but wonder what surprise destiny had in store for him… 

And this surprise was you. 

One fateful morning, Copia laid his eyes upon you. There you stood on the threshold of the freshly painted wooden front door, holding a suitcase in your delicate hand Copia felt his heart beating out of his chest… if he had one. You were a vision of radiance, stunning and alluring. Your lustrous hair, your gleaming eyes, the elegant contour of your nose, the outline of your lips, and the captivating curves of your body. Copia was well aware that you could not see him unless he allowed it.

He summoned the courage to approach you, drawn in by your magnetic presence, when... He saw him. The man from last time. This bald fucker. He appeared behind you, his eyes cold and unrelenting. a surge of cold anger seized Copia’s chest. A low growl rumbled in his spectral form.

You took a step forward when you felt him behind you, unease clearly etched on your face as the man inched closer. He casually placed a hand on your waist.

“How do you like the entrance hall, Miss?” he asked, his voice oozing with a sly and unsettling grin.

Copia's anger grew as he observed the scene unfold.

“I love it,” you said, your voice was like a melody to Copia’s ear.

His anger quickly subsided, he was focused on you again. At least you were not receptive to the man’s obvious advances. He started to show you around the house. Copia quietly followed you, his eyes never leaving you. 

As the bald man concluded the tour of the house and engaged in conversation with you, Copia couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, an unsettling gaze that made Copia's blood boil.

However, Copia's mood shifted when he witnessed the man presenting you with a set of keys, a wide smile gracing his face. At this moment, the lonely demon knew it was the start of something known… Maybe something good? 

The movers had left. A peaceful silence enveloped the house, only disturbed by the gentle hum of your voice. You were meticulously arranging your numerous books on a shelf. Copia was hidden in the shadows, watching you closely from the dark corner you had chosen as your bedroom.

You were nothing short of enchanting in his eyes, the most beautiful thing he had seen in his long, lonely existence. He longed to draw closer, to be near you, to feel your earthly warmth. His spectral form shifted in your direction, inching closer, driven by a desire he had never felt before.

But clumsy as he was, in his attempt to approach, Copia inadvertently knocked over an old chandelier you had placed on a nearby table. The sudden crash startled you, and you swiftly turned around, eyes wide with alarm. Copia's heart, if he had one, pounded in his chest. He did not want to scare you! He already knew he would not try to drive you away, not ever. You were his chance not to be lonely anymore.

You carefully approached and picked up the chandelier, a slight frown grazing your beautiful face. Copia watched in silence, concealed in the shadows. For a moment, you looked around, your eyes scanning the room as if trying to make sense of the unexpected disturbance. After a brief pause, you placed the chandelier back on the table, ensuring it wouldn't teeter too close to the edge. Copia could finally breathe again: you probably thought the chandelier had fallen by itself…  Then you left the room, and the demon followed you like a love-sick puppy.

On that evening, Copia continued to observe you as you prepared for bed. His spectral gaze followed your every movement, his fascination growing with every passing moment. Your grace and beauty held him captivated, as you went about your routine, unaware of his watchful gaze. His longing, however, remained a silent ache within him, a desire to be closer, to understand you better. Copia yearned for a connection beyond the bounds of his spectral form.

Not now… I don’t want to scare her. 

For now, he observed your every move, his gaze lingering on your silhouette as you undressed. You were gorgeous. Even Mother Lilith would be jealous of your beauty. He felt a growing ache in his chest, an ache that could only be soothed by the touch of your skin…

He wanted to touch you.

When you slipped beneath the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, you were asleep within moments. The weariness from the day's work had claimed you, leaving you vulnerable in the quiet, moonlit room. Copia emerged from the darkest corners of the dimly lit chamber, his form silent as he ventured closer.

He longued to touch you. 

His clawed hands barely grazed your bare arm. The warmth of your body and the softness of your skin sent shivers down his spectral form, a sensation he had not experienced in an eternity. He knew it was wrong to take advantage of your slumber. He knew he could wake you up and scare you to death. But he could not help himself.  And he was a demon after all, why couldn’t he indulge in a bit of wickedness?  Moreover, his intentions were not really malevolent.

So, he gave in to his desire, tracing his fingers across your face, through your hair, and down your legs, which were revealed by your short nightgown. He even placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. Copia believed his touch was to be soft enough not to wake you, and indeed, you slept peacefully until morning's first light filtered through the curtains.

As you stirred in your sleep, a sign that you would soon awaken, Copia hastily retreated into the shadows even if he knew you could not quite see him. His ghostly form disappeared from view. Copia watched you as you stretched, and then, you got up and walked to the bathroom. He was about to follow you when he heard you gasp loudly.

“What the hell!” your voice echoed through the house.

Worry gripped Copia, and he rushed to the bathroom. There, he found you standing in front of the mirror, your eyes fixed on numerous scratch marks that scarred your arms… And on the trace of black paint on your cheek.

Guilt started to gnaw at Copia's demon heart. As he watched you in your fear and confusion, he knew that he was the cause of those scratch marks. He had only wanted to caress you, to feel the warmth of your living body, not to hurt you… How could he have believed he could possess a gentle touch? What had he been thinking? In that moment, Copia was haunted by his own actions and the realization that his desire had brought fear and harm to the very person he longed to be with.

Copia watched in silence as you picked up your phone and called someone. He figured you were talking to one of your friends. He observed you frantically explaining what had happened: the chandelier falling, the scratch marks. Your voice was trembling with fear. But as your friend spoke, he noticed a change. You seemed to grow calmer. Copia strained to hear the distant voice on the other end of the line.

“You probably moved in your sleep, you did that to yourself, darl… as for the trace on your face, you said you used paint to work in your house right?”

“Yes…” you answered in a quiet voice

“See? There is nothing to worry about,” your friend's voice assured you.

Copia's invisible presence remained in the shadows as you hung up a few moments later. He felt that you were still a bit agitated but relieved.  The demon followed you as you moved about the house, preparing yourself for the day. His guilt was soon replaced by desire and longing again. He wanted to be near you again. But next time, he would need to be more careful. Maybe next time, he will try something else…

In the afternoon, a knock echoed on your door. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of your landlord, a smug grin on his face. Copia emitted a low growl at the sight of that man once more... What could he possibly want this time?

"Hi, Miss," the man greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I just wanted to check if everything is going well for you. Have you settled in comfortably?"

“Y-Yeah” you replied, a fake smile on your beautiful lips “Everything is okay thank you, sir”

Copia's presence loomed nearby, watching carefully the interaction. 

“Wonderful,” the landlord said, his voice lowering an octave

He leaned closer to you, and you took a hesitant step back. Copia keenly observed your discomfort. A fiery anger swelled in his spectral chest. How dare this man intrude on your personal space and make you feel uneasy?

Your eyes widened, and a sense of unease washed over you.

“Uh… I don’t know,” you began, your voice wavering. “I don’t think so... I still have work to do.”

The man's expression darkened briefly, and he scowled at your response. Then, his unsettling smile returned.

“Oh, that’s okay,” he said, his tone dripping with insincerity. “I'll ask you again when you have more time…”

You merely nodded as the man finally left, and Copia watched in silence as you closed the door behind him. He longed to comfort you, to alleviate the distress you felt, but what could he do from the shadows? 

However, you seemed to gather your composure, making an effort to put the encounter behind you. Moments later, you put on your coat, grabbed your car keys, and left the house. Copia was left alone with his thoughts, haunted by the image of your lovely, sweet presence. He wanted all of you.  And he wanted you all to himself. That man was definitely going to be a problem.

When you got back home with the groceries, the night had already settled in, shrouding your garden in darkness. At first, you just wanted to go out to get some groceries but you ended up spending the afternoon at the mall. You needed that. The strange noises, the scratch marks, you weird landlord… You needed some time to think and to take a step back and you began to reconsider it all. Perhaps it was all a product of your overactive imagination. After all, this was a new beginning, a fresh chapter in your life, the house was ancient, and your head was full of ghost stories. As for the landlord… creepy men were everywhere, you just had to be careful. The rent was really low and you did not want to leave your dream house for some mediocre disgusting man. 

You got out your keys to unlock the door. At that very instant, your gaze was drawn to a peculiar sight. There, on the first-floor window, was the shadowy outline of a tall figure, its eyes glowing like eerie beacons, fixed on you. But as quickly as you blinked, the apparition vanished into thin air. You felt your heart start to beat faster, but you tried to calm down anyway… You were really tired, were you not? 

Pushing the door open, you entered cautiously. Your heart was pounding with the fear that an intruder might have entered your house. 

"Hello?" you called out, your voice shaking

With your groceries set aside and the door closed and locked behind you, you retrieved your trusty pepper spray from your bag. And so, you embarked on a meticulous search of your home, meticulously inspecting every closet and even peeking beneath the bed. However, no one was there. A sense of relief washed over you. You really needed some sleep. 

After a comforting shower, you went through your familiar nighttime rituals, determined to brush off the unsettling events of the day. You did your best to disregard the creaks and groans of the aging house.

It’s a super old house, you tried to convince yourself, it makes noises, it’s nothing but normal.

Moments later, you found yourself in bed, cocooned in the safety of your covers, determined to tune out the persistent creaking of the old wooden floor in the house. With each creak and pop, you tried to convince yourself it was just the house settling, just a strange symphony of its ancient timbers. Eventually, the comforting embrace of sleep began to sweep you away, and you allowed yourself to succumb to its soothing embrace.

“If this world is wearing thin

And you're thinking of escape

I'll go anywhere with you…”

A gentle, velvety voice beckoned to you as you were standing in the entry hall. Its cadence was soft and enchanting, a siren's call in the dark. Instead of inciting fear, it drew you closer to it. As you followed the voice, your surroundings transformed. The house dissolved into a serene, velvety darkness, wrapping you in a shroud of calmness. It was like being enveloped in a plush, black coat or floating in an infinite pool of inky tranquillity. You climbed up the stairs slowly as the voice continued to sing.

“Just wrap me up in chains

But if you try to go alone

Don't think I'll understand”

You were irresistibly attracted to the voice. Now, you were walking in the corridor that led toward your room. 

“Stay with me…”

You were acutely aware that the voice was calling out to you, and it sent a flurry of a thousand butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It was so seductive, so alluring… It was impossible to resist. The voice drew you closer with every word. You got to the red-painted door of your room. You put your hand on the doorknob. 

“In the silence of your room

In the darkness of your dreams

You must only think of me…”

The voice was getting more and more seductive, more and more sultry. And you felt a growing heat between your legs. You opened the door.

“... There can be no in-between

When your pride is on the floor

I'll make you beg for more”

There he was. The man to whom this enchanting voice belonged. His eyes were a mesmerizing juxtaposition, one a gentle shade of green, akin to the soft caress of a feather, while the other was white, cold, and empty, like the sharp sting of a needle. His face was a canvas painted in black and white, with hollow sockets drawn around his eyes and a mouth contorted into the eerie visage of a skull. But how you found him attractive… you found him so very handsome. His outstretched hand beckoned you. You moved closer to him as if in a trance. He said your name before his voice started to sing again.

“Stay with me…”

Like an automaton, you walked toward him. What was this man doing in your room? Who was he? You did not know. In fact, you could not care less about the answer.

You found yourself standing before him, your hand instinctively reaching for his. Your gaze remained locked onto his enigmatic eyes. His painted lips curved into a captivating smile, and he gently raised your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

"Now, you belong to me, dolcezza," he whispered, his voice a sultry blend of desire and affection, wrapping you in an irresistible enchantment.

His gaze burned with an intensity of raw desire that left you feeling as if the world were spinning around you. His white eyes were glowing like the sharpest diamond. In that moment, all you could perceive was an enveloping silence with his voice being the sole existence in your reality. 

Suddenly, the man pulled you toward him and his mouth began to ravish your neck. His gloved hands roamed your body, an almost electric touch. A gasp escaped your lips as he effortlessly lifted you and gently tossed you onto your bed. In the blink of an eye, he was on top of you, his mouth continuing its exploration of the delicate skin of your neck. A fiery passion enveloped both of you, threatening to burn you whole. His hands were now on your thighs, exploring the sensitive skin. Your entire being was consumed by an intense, burning desire for him. It was an insatiable longing, a burning hunger that had taken hold of you.

"Mine, all mine..." the man growled, his words resonating with this feral, possessive energy.

You somehow knew that he was not human; the growls, these unearthly eyes, that aura about him. But in that moment, in the throes of desire and pleasure, you could not have cared less about all of that. All that mattered was the intoxicating connection that bound you together. And like that, almost without thought, his name escaped your lips. 

"Copia..." you whispered a name that seemed to flow from some dark corner of your mind

You felt him smile against your heated skin. His mouth continued its scorching journey, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. There was a pause, his lips hovering just above yours. Then, he captured your mouth with a fierce and passionate kiss, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you moaning into his kiss. Your hands roamed his back with equal intensity, while your legs locked around his hips. You desperately wanted to pull him closer. Copia's hips eagerly moved against yours. Finally, he broke the kiss, leaving you breathless, panting for more, and utterly consumed by a desire that had become impossible to deny.

“Oh Lucifer, amore… Let me have you” he murmured “Say yes to me…”

You did not even have to think. You nodded eagerly.

“Yes. Oh, yes, please… Copia”

In an instant, his painted lips were on you again. A gasp of pleasure escaped your lips as he swiftly and decisively removed your nightgown, leaving you exposed to his fervent desires. It seems like he was everywhere all at once. His clawed hands traced a path across your skin, marking you with fiery scratch marks that only intensified the pleasure. You didn't mind the marks, in fact, they were making you even more excited.

His name became a sacred mantra, a litany that you repeated. The passion between you both grew with every breath, every whisper of his name. He gave more kisses on your chest, on your stomach. Then with fervent passion, he peppered your thighs with heated kisses, leaving smudged black paint on your skin as a sensual mark of his presence. The intense heat between your legs had become almost unbearable, causing your thighs to glisten with the undeniable signs of your arousal.

With the same impulsiveness that had marked his earlier actions, he tore away your panties, a sudden, thrilling act that made you yelp. It left a faint burn and a red mark on your skin, sensations he promptly soothed with tender caresses and soft kisses. Then, with unbridled desire, he began to lap at the wetness on the skin in your inner thighs, igniting a fire of passion that left you gasping and trembling.

“You taste so good, amore… so good” he purred as his mouth drew nearer to your most intimate area.

His tongue then moved with an electrifying swiftness, delving between your delicate folds, drawing incontrollable squirms and gasps of unbridled pleasure from you. His fervent attention was akin to a starved man feasting, and his primal growls reverberated through your core, stirring a wild, untamed desire within you. Your fingers tangled in his greying hair as moans spilled from your lips, refusing to be contained.

You gazed downward, you saw his white eyes filled with enchanting mischief that sent a shiver of longing down your spine. With every passing moment, you inched closer and closer to the precipice, teetering on the edge of an impending ecstasy that promised to consume you entirely. There was no trace of fear, not even a fleeting second of doubt. In this captivating moment, fear was eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of vitality and desire.

You had never felt so alive… 

Alive.

Your eyes snapped open, and reality crashed in on you. The room felt stiflingly warm, and your breath came in laboured gasps. As you looked around, you realized that you were still in your own bed. It had all been a vivid, intoxicating dream. A wave of profound disappointment washed over you, leaving you with a lingering ache in your chest. The intensity of that dream had awakened desires and feelings within you like never before. In that ephemeral world, you had felt wanted, desirable, and perhaps even loved in a way you had never experienced in waking life. The contrast between the dream and reality left a bittersweet yearning.

The vivid memory of his touch, his heated breath against your skin, and the sensation of his tongue between your legs lingered in your mind, leaving your body burning with the memory of his passion. Who was this man? Have you encountered him before? Why did he feel so unearthly, so unlike any human? These questions swirled through your thoughts until you came to a realization: it was merely a dream, after all… wasn’t it?

Copia had entered your dreams that night. He was aware it was bad. But he was a demon for Lucifer’s sake, it was in his nature! And it’s not like he could control the reaction you had in your own dream.  He knew he could have frightened you, but you seemed so responsive… you wanted him. Copia had retreated into a corner of the room when you woke up. Why on earth did you have to wake up by the way? The demon was still mad with desire at this point and mad with love. You were so lovely, so sweet, how he longed to be near you again, to feel your warmth not only in your dream this time, to take you as his own…

Copia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You were absent that afternoon. You left about one hour ago, were you already back? The demon cautiously moved toward the entrance hall, his presence hidden in the darkness. He froze when he saw the one who had entered: your landlord, that disgusting man. Copia's spectral form quivered with unease as he watched the man climb up the stairs and enter your room. Copia followed him quickly, making sure to cause the loudest noises when climbing the stairs. But that did not seem to disturb the man who was already focused on his perverted purpose.

Copia found him opening your closet, and digging through your drawer. The man took a pair of panties in his hands and put them against his nose. It was too much for Copia, way too much He would not let someone disrespect you and pry on you in such a way. With a supernatural surge of power, the demon forcefully slammed the drawer shut on the intruder's hand, prompting a piercing cry of agony.

"What the...?" The intruder managed to utter before chaos ensued.

Before he could do or say anything else, Copia lunged forward, seizing the man's arm with his clawed fingers, his voice oozing menace.

"Seeking some thrills, your fucking pervert?"

The man spun around to witness the demon standing inches away. Copia bared pointed, razor-sharp teeth and let out a guttural snarl, resembling a monstrous, otherworldly feline. His eyes blazed with intensity, like the very fires of hell itself. A blood-curdling scream erupted from the intruder's trembling lips as he scrambled up the stairs, fleeing the house with the same haste with which he had arrived, knocking over some stuff in his flight. Copia chuckled darkly to himself, confident that, landlord or not, the man would never dare to disturb you again.

When you arrived back home, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. An feeling of unease crept over you. Had you genuinely forgotten to lock it, or was it your exhaustion playing tricks on your mind? You couldn't help but chastise yourself for being so tired and disoriented, especially after the vivid dream that had lingered in your thoughts.

As you cautiously entered the house, your eyes were drawn to a plant knocked over in the entry hall. It was a clear sign that something or someone had disturbed your home. You recalled your books, the ghost stories… you recalled everything that had happened since you moved in.

“Hello? I know you’re here…” you declared with a hint of hesitation in your voice

You climbed up the stairs to find the door to your room wide open. You were certain you had closed it.

"Did you do that? It's okay, I'm not mad..." you assured, as you moved through the house, searching for any sign of a presence. 

However, your calls went unanswered, and the eerie silence persisted. In a moment of impulse, without overthinking, you uttered a single name.

"Copia?"

You called the name repeatedly, a sense of longing in your voice, but there was no response. The silence in the house grew heavy, stretching into minutes. In a moment of self-doubt, you couldn't help but laugh at your own foolishness. How could you have thought that… 

But then, it all became clear. It hit you all at once. The pieces of the puzzle clicked together. The noises, the objects falling over, the figure at the window that night, the scratch marks, the trace of paint on your cheek, the dream… There had to be something in this house! And that thing was in your dream last night. But you were not afraid… for you felt he was not trying to hurt you. 

“I know you are here,” you repeated out loud “You cannot hide in the darkness forever…”

Silence.

“Please, show yourself… I just want to see you”

Silence again. 

Maybe you were going crazy… ?

You went about your day, trying to distract yourself by unpacking the last of the boxes. But your mind continued to drift, haunted by the vivid memories of your encounter with Copia. The sensation of being watched lingered, a disquieting feeling that refused to fade… but maybe your mind was playing tricks on you again? 

As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Your thoughts were consumed by the memory of his eyes, the sensation of his breath against your skin, and the ghostly touch of his hands on your body. The longing became unbearable, and you found yourself unable to resist the yearning that had taken hold.

In the solitude of your room, your own hands began to trace a path across your body, traveling slowly down to your thighs. With your eyes closed, you conjured the image of him in your mind.

"Copia..." you sighed his name, a whispered plea.

Just as your hand slipped in your panties, a weight settled on your bed, and a presence made itself known. You opened your eyes to find him. He was hovering above you with a mischievous grin, a spark of desire flickering in his mismatched eyes. His gaze held a fiery longing but there was affection in eyes. A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, yet you remained still, enthralled by the intensity of the moment. Your cheeks were red to be caught in such an intimate moment… you knew he was watching you the whole time.

“Did you call for me, amore?”  his now familiar voice purred 

"Copia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with anticipation 

“Yes, amore… I have come for you, at last,”

His nose playfully nudged your neck as he pressed his body to yours. The sensations were so vivid that you couldn't help but question the dream-like quality of it all.

“Oh please, tell me this is not a dream…” 

"It's not, not this time…" he assured, his voice a soft murmur as he kissed the tender spot behind your ear. "Are you afraid of me?"

“No,” you said without hesitation. “Should I?”

He stopped kissing your neck to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions.

You met his gaze with unwavering determination and reached out to touch his face. "I believe I know what you are, and it doesn't frighten me..."

“Oh, cara mia…”

He leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth while his hands began to explore your body. The sensation felt so much more real than the dream you had…

“Why didn’t you come when I called you earlier?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“I hesitated. I did not want to scare you, amore… I felt so guilty when you found those scratches on your body…”

He sounded a bit sad, and you gently caressed his face.

“I don’t want you to go, cara. You… You are my light. I want you to stay with me.”

Your eyes went wide. You did not expect to see an unearthly creature like him in such a vulnerable state. 

“I won’t go…” you whispered “Not ever…”

He gave you a tender smile. 

“You are such a treasure… You were sent to me by Lucifer himself.”

His voice quivered with emotions as he spoke. His words made you blush. His hands resumed their exploration of your body. He pressed himself against you. Your body felt so warm, so hot. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered in your ear

He pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his lips warm and eager.

“Let me have you…” he whispered, much like in the dream.

“Yes, Copia… please, take me.”

He wouldn't need to be asked twice. With a low, feral growl, he lifted your nightgown above your head, leaving you almost naked and exposed to him. He lunged forward and began to suck and lick on your breasts with fervour. You moaned loudly, the heady desire drowning out the thought that someone could hear you cry out. As he pressed his hips against you, you could feel the hardness of his arousal, and it sent shivers of desire cascading through your body. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, as you surrendered to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed you both. He was worshipping your body like no one did before.

He straightened up to look at you.

“Belissima…” he murmured as his clawed hands went to your panties, hastily removing them 

You blushed profusely. 

“Why don't you finish what you started, cara mia?” he purred, gazing down at you with raw desire, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“What... What do you mean?” you stuttered, your mind dizzy with want.

“Don't play innocent, my love… I saw you.”

You blushed even more when you finally understood what he meant. A mischievous smile played on his painted lips, he patiently waited. With your cheeks painted red, your hands moved toward your inner thighs once more. You began to touch yourself for him, your fingers playing on your pussy. Your eyes were not leaving his as you moaned, giving in to the irresistible allure of his desires. He started to undress before your eyes, this was only fueling your desire. He was so handsome in your eyes. 

“Copia…” you whispered as he stood naked before your eyes. Your voice quivered with pleasure. “You are so handsome…”

He beamed upon hearing your words, and you could swear you saw a hint of a blush on his painted features.

“You are beautiful, so beautiful…” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire as he watched you.

As you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, you sensed his hand gently covering yours.

“That's enough, cara… I think you need more than just your fingers.”

You nodded eagerly as he moved closer, settling between your opened legs. 

“You are gorgeous, mia amata… You are mine forever,” he whispered tenderly, his voice filled with love and affection.

He positioned himself, his cock near your entrance, playfully teasing you for a moment. Your restlessness under him drew a chuckle from his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“So eager… I love it” 

Then he pushed his cock inside you. You gasped, your moan catching in your throat. He entered you slowly, inch by inch until he was all the way inside. His glowing eyes were locked in yours. He was looking at you like you were the most precious jewel. 

“Such a good girl, taking me so well” he purred, his voice laced with desire

Copia's hips started to move languidly on yours, in a slow and sensual dance. His cock was stretching you so perfectly, reaching all the right spots. You were feeling so full, so whole. You pulled him closer as if you wanted to melt your body into his.

"Oh, you feel so good, amore"

He was not holding back his moan. He was very vocal, it was absolute music to your ears. His name spilled from your lips like a blasphemous prayer.  He started to pick up the pace, moving more passionately, more quickly. His low moans were now mixed with feral growls. But he was still so considerate with you, running his hand through your hair, caressing your skin. He was scratching your skin with his claws but you did not care… Sex had never felt so intimate before. He was thrusting inside you with such raw passion, it was nothing short of blissful.

"You were made for me," he said in between moans "You are mine, all mine!"

You felt it build up inside of you again.

“Copia! I’m going to…” you whimpered, throwing back in the pillow

“Me too, amore-ah!” 

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body quivered by pleasure as you clung into the sheets, your head was spinning as you fell into the arms of bliss. He gave a few more thrusts before his release. Your name escaped his lips as he spilled inside you, his clawed hand clutching your waist. You would certainly have bruises afterward but you couldn't care less. 

He fell onto you, breathing heavily, his head resting against your chest. You reached out to run your fingers gently through his hair. You both remained in this intimate embrace for a while, the sensation of pleasure still tingling on your skin. He hummed contentedly while you continued to stroke his hair.  With a gentle kiss on your forehead, he moved to lie down on the bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight and affectionate embrace.

"Why did you knock over my favorite plant?" you asked after a moment, your voice laced with a hint of amusement; you were not angry at him.

You felt Copia stiffen against you.

"Uh... I didn't, amore..."

He tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. You gave him a confused look, waiting for him to explain.

"That disgusting man... your landlord who was at your doorstep a few days ago... he broke in while you were away."

He noticed the growing unease on your face.

"He behaved like a creep... I spare you the details. But I believe after what I did... he won't attempt it again..."

He kissed your forehead, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

"I scared the shit out of him, I must admit..."

The discomfort and confusion transformed into amusement. You knew Copia had been protecting you, and you realized you were never truly alone. You knew you never would be again. And you were determined to show him that he would never have to walk alone again either.

"I'm with you always, my dear... I won't let anyone harm you," he whispered against your hair, "Never."

#the band ghost #copia x reader #demon!copia #cardinal copia x female reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x female reader #ghost bc #the ghost band

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

helloo this is my first time requesting so please bear with me

can i request for for a scenario with a male reader who has no care for the world and just goes with the flow so when the killers try to kidnap or kill him he’s just chill and like 😐 any killer are fine :)

thank you and feel free to ignore if you’re uncomfortable!

Ooh im so honored to be your first ask! I hope this does you justice!

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of torture

Thank you so much for requesting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

He gets very worried when he sees you aren't reacting

Did he do something wrong? Are you the wrong person? Oh god, did you even know you were being kidnapped??

He's pacing back and forth in front of you, almost forgetting that you're there

That is, until you sigh loudly through the rag that was shoved into your mouth

He looks up at you "what?"

You raise a brow before looking down at the rag

"Oh." He mutters, coming to be in front of you and taking the rag out

You cough and move your tongue around, trying to get rid of the cotton mouth "so when can i go home?" You ask

He looks at you, bewildered "uh...do you not see what's happening? You're being kidnapped."

"No, i got that part, i just have work in the morning so i don't wanna be late for that"

He sighs and rubs his eyes before looking at you once more "no, you see, I'm not going to be returning you home. You are staying here, until your family pays the agreed ransom amount"

You sigh "darn. Alright."

He shoves the rag back in your mouth and continues to contemplate on his worries...

Brian

One of the reasons he enjoys his job, is that he at least gets some sort of gratitude out of it

Knowing his victims fear him, makes him feel strong and superior

So when he kidnaps you and you don't care, that really ticks him off

He doesn't show it at first, trying to get you to fear him in the easier ways, such as telling you all of the things he's gonna do, telling you that you're gonna be here forever, etc

And when that doesn't work, he amps up the pressure a little, threatning you, threatning your family and friends, etc

And when that doesn't works, he amps it up a little more, holding his gun to your head, slicing various parts of your body with his knife, etc

One way or another, he will get you to fear him, he doesn't care what it takes

Eventually, he will even go as far as to leaving you alone, tied to a chair in the dark, with no one else but yourself to keep you company

How long he leaves you like this depends on how angry you made him

It may range from just a day or to a week or so

The longest he'll let you stay down there by yourself is until you are on the brink of starvation, he needs you alive, after all...

Eyeless Jack

Personally, he couldn't care less whether or not you react to being kidnapped

In fact, it makes his life easier if you don't react

He can catch up on his other work, harvest your kidneys, study, read

The list goes on, really

So it's actually better this way, and he appreciates you not wasting his time trying to thrash around, scream or escape

He doesn't tell you that though, of course

He's probably the person you want to get kidnapped by, all things considered

If you are good, he will eventually start getting you some fast food for your meals

He will also untie you for an hour or so, and let you walk around

Staying active is necassary, you know

And who knows? If you ask nicely enough, he might just bring you some crossword puzzles to keep your mind occupied

All that being said, do not mistake his kindness for mercy

One wrong move and he will make you wish you'd never been born...

#creepypasta #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #slender mansion #creepypasta x female reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #eyeless jack #toby erin rogers #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack x male reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x male reader #ticcy toby #hoodie x y/n #hoodie x reader #hoodie mh #hoodie marble hornets #marble hornets hoodie #brian thomas #brian marble hornets

[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode: --"it's so nice to be able to get wrapped up in this and know about I'm about to get new content" was certainly something that went through my head by the end of the episode, but I was also reminded of how it felt a little too drawn out and over saccharine, and how the extra long length of this episode did not feel it served it fully well. I've come to be more forgiving of the excess happy fluff at the end of this season, and I will defend it as follows, but I still would have preferred they reign it in a little so we don't forget about how hard-won that battle was with how chipper and energetic everyone is.

--But you know what? They deserve it. They are functioning on the rush of relief, and it took a while for them all to gather down there on the grass. Like, it's kind of sweet that the people who first got to celebrate this victory with the Kamado siblings were a trio of swordsmiths who would have felt awful if Nezuko had to die on their accord. These weren't even swordsmiths whom Tanjiro hung out with much, but their lives were just as worthy.

--It was nice to see the group celebration expanded on a bit, but I think what got me feeling like it was overdone was seeing Mitsuri be overwhelmed with gratitude specifically on Nezuko's behalf too, since she was the one not to witness the peril Nezuko was in. I feel it was enough to have have Mitsuri be relieved on everyone's behalf, and to have her be shocked that Nezuko is there in sunlight, which is cute and funny. No need to quite rehash what Tanjiro has just momentously been through. And this is coming from some who really, really loves Mitsuri & Nezuko interaction. It would have been totally in-character to have left Mitsuri blissfully unaware of how awful Nezuko's experience was unless someone point-blank tells her that Nezuko almost didn't make it. Then the extra gratitude specifically for Nezuko would feel earned.

--And my gosh, Ufotable, you sure sold Nezuko's pain. I am still so impressed.

--I also initially did not like just how playful it is to have Nezuko and Tanjiro running away from Haganezuka, because it takes me out of how much peril they were just in. But hey, if there are two characters who are totally fine, it is Nezuko (the being the point that she is way more than fine) and Haganezuka (who will always have energy for enacting sword justice).

--But hey, besides that? Sure, it's pleasant to see them be so happily relieved. This isn't even "we defeated two Upper Moons" triumph, it's just "we're alive, Nezuko is in the sun, Muichiro remembers things, we're alive, we're alive, we're alive." Like, a littttle bit more "WHOA, THOSE WERE UPPER MOONS" like after defeating Gyutaro & Daki would have been nice.

--And like........ that whole final scene... it has its very cute points, just getting to see the swordsmiths interact more since this was their season to have some well-deserved spotlight, both for the work they do and as characters. But it played that "everyone loves Kamado Tanjiro (but he never takes the credit)" note a little too loud. Some things play more nicely with subtlety, but hey, Ufotable wanted to go out with a triumphant statement. I want to be forgiving of that, but... those villagers were busy trying to hurry out of that village. : / And I really hope that Genya, Muichiro, and Mitsuri got the same treatment, but I doubt anybody went collecting confetti each time.

--So anyway, setting those grievances aside!!

--MUZAN MONOLOGUE. Like, it was good, but it always give me flashbacks to Nomura Mansai's Muzan monologue in the Noh rendition, which was chilling. Still, this anime version was great, and I love me all those extra touches they expanded his Heian life with. Muzan isn't all that complicated of a villain. He was always spiteful human who wanted to take out his frustration by destroying other people. Then he got power, but spending half of his time on the brink of death for a thousand years is like being spit in the face. Sure, you're powerful, buddy, until somebody opens a window. And I like that Muzan is uncomplicated. It's his utter disregard for others that made him a villain in the first place, and he has never and will never change.

--And that is why one of my favorite Muzan moments ever is how he doesn't even both to pick his feet up or step around the two corpses on the floor as he exits the room. Other people really are nothing but furniture to him, and that little action--or lack of action, rather-- speaks so loudly about his character.

--Imagine how different the rest of the series would have been if Hantengu's head didn't spin in Nezuko's direction?

--Nezuko's victory over the sun deserves how much it got milked, because in the context of the series, she had in fact made the greatest achievement of any character in this series. Sure, Tanjiro has just killed Upper Moon Four, but it only took the Corp a little over a hundred years to accomplish killing an Upper Moon. Nezuko, within three years of being turned into a demon, has accomplished what Muzan has failed to do for over a thousand years. What's more, this is entirely through Nezuko's own power; there was no one who could have helped her accomplish this. Tamayo could only observe with wonder.

--Truly, Nezuko has "prioritized" this over, say, reattaining her sense of self. I see Nezuko's demon development as being a bit infantile. When she was first "born," so to speak, she was not aware of herself as an individual being, only that she hungered, and that she had just undergone some terrible loss, and that Tanjiro was all she had left. After a little sleep it got easily to process that Tanjiro was someone who she understood, and even as she started to gain some sense of self, it revolved around Tanjiro and his welfare. Listening to Urokodaki and Tanjiro as she slept, and perhaps seeing memories of her family as she dreamed probably put together something more basic, but she probably did not remember anything more than her family's faces and how deeply she cares about them. I think little by little as she started gaining more of an awareness of others as individuals and appreciating that there is more in the world she enjoys than just her brother's wellbeing, she probably gained more and more of an understanding of being someone named Nezuko and having a mission to fight demons with everyone else she has come to care about, and with, a high level of ability to understand language, but because she had the muzzle this whole time, she had no need to try to use words herself, so she didn't prioritize this either.

--I bring that all up just to say that she might have (without words) been thinking, "oh, I know what this is called. This is 'morning.' People are supposed to say something, what it is? Oh, right! Gu--gOoD mOrnNinG~"

--And then it's like, "OH, I CAN COMMUNICATE!!! THIS IS FUN!!!!! NEW POWER!!!"

--So proud of you, Nezuko

--I like that Ufotable stressed her daytime eyes still looking very inhuman. It stresses how something is still very off about her existence. Nobody is used to seeing a daytime demon. (I prefer her nighttime eyes, though.)

--But also that is such Kimetsu Logic to do a thing and then explain the thing without spoiling it. Thank you for your letter, Tamayo-san.

--Now, Tanjiro, though. You know that he's making it harder and harder to uphold Corp rules about what makes a Pillar. Haha, no, Tanjiro is no Pillar! He only cut the heads off those Twelve Moon demons because he had Pillars helping him! Haha, somehow he is still the same rank as Zenitsu and Inosuke after chopping the head off Upper Moon Four! (Zenitsu and Inosuke, what the fresh hell have you two been up to in order to match rank with Tanjiro???)

--But also, it is wicked cool how Tanjiro is just turns the Mark on now like a lightswitch, and that Ufotable switches up in the animation in a way that shows he's going at full throttle. (Meanwhile, our Marked Pillar friends looked just a little more blithe than their usual blithe selves.)

--I find it totally legit that he could suddenly use Thunder Breath, since Sun Breath is the source of all of them, so the concepts would be the same anyway.

--Those last hits Tanjiro gets in on Hantengu too, very cool. I love how many tries it takes to get that hit, too! Hantengu is full of surprises and I have come to appreciate him a lot more over the course of this rewatch. If I ever, say, get a skiddish hamster, maybe I'll name it Hante or something.

--Love the sound design on the mountain setting, especially when Muichiro calls out to Tanjiro from up on the cliff. That sounded SO GOOD in the theater.

--Also, just, a huge shout out to all of Ufotable's construction of settings. Really, really, wonderful.

--And the sounds on SUCH A REALISTIC PANIC ATTACK, and movements, right now to how Tanjiro's fingers shake. Man, way to stress me out. I sort of what to speed it all up to see how quick this all went down as Tanjiro was panicking, but the only parts that were really slowed down were watching Hantengu run. It was all so painfully slow and was all happening too fast. What an awful moment.

--and I can't wait for Tanjiro to reflect back on that when talking with Himejima

--This episode was Nezuko's biggest triumph, but at least for a few moments, it was also Tanjiro's biggest loss.

#KnY Rewatch #my art #Kamado Tanjiro #Kamado Tanjirou #Kamado Nezuko #the sun #yeah it is a character sometimes fight me #no don't fight me I'm going to bed #that's all my rewatch for now!

[000marie198]

Frontiers really drove home the fact that Sonic's friends are his friends first and foremost, not followers or team of sidekicks. They are his family, his partners in crime, especially Tails. That with all of them together they're a formidable team but they are not just side characters in Sega verse who only support the hero's role. They are the heroes just as much. They'd hold strong when he couldn't, they are pillars he could fall back on just like he is someone they can fall back on. Equals. A family.

This game fixes everything the few past games did to their roles and characters and emphasizes these mobians are not cheer leaders, they are front liners, they are not simply support characters, they are their own person.

Knuckles isn't just a guardian, he's a friend, a brother, a protector, and the last of his kind and someone who deserves to live his life to the fullest instead of keeping watch day and night. He deserves to travel without a threat of world ending, he deserves to meet people, make friends, try grapes of different regions, take day offs, be the child he was robbed of being.

Amy is not just a fangirl chasing after someone she has a crush on. She is kind, compassionate and strong girl who believes in the good in the world and wants to help everyone, show the world the wonders and beauty in small things that go ignored. She has grown up so much.

And Tails, sweet little Tails has always been just as much of a hero as Sonic. He is not the sidekick, he was never the sidekick, that was what people thought him as and he used to see himself as. Sonic never saw him as the sidekick, Sonic sees him as an equal, as a brother, he always had. Tails is such a wonderful child, he could invent things that can help the planet at a massive scale, he can make whole tech companies, he can make new discoveries, advance science so much farther than one could anticipate, can command whole squadrons of jets, he is loved by people and tiny critters of the planet just as much, he is the hero and he deserves to be acknowledged as that.

Being stuck in a limbo gave them all the time to think about what they all want to pursue in life, on discovering their full potential, reaching far across the new frontiers, that they all have the potential for so much more. That they don't have to think of themselves as followers, they are equals. They are a team.

As for Sonic? This game shows that Sonic isn't just a hero who saves the world and helps people because he is nice or a good person. While those are true, saving the world or helping because he was nice wasn't why he was going day and night on no food and zero sleep and constantly at move and slowly getting more and more cyber corrupted, nearing the brink of death. He did it for his friends. Not just because he is a nice person or it's in his nature. If that were the case, he would've approached everything differently, he wouldn't be anxious to hurry on setting the others free but still calm and chill while talking to his friends, he wouldn't be constantly worrying about his brother, he wouldn't be reluctant to help the Kocos. He was listening to the mysterious voice he knew nothing about and proceeded doing everything it told him even though he doesn't trust a mysterious stranger that easily, even though what it told him was slowly destroying him, because that was the only way he knew of which could set his friends free. He didn't know any other way and did something that kept taking a lot out of him (like dude literally looked dead on his feet during the later half of the game, clutching his torso, walking slow, subtle panting) just to save his friends. He's a hero yes, he has endured many things and gone without sleep in the past yes, he helps people because that's just like him yes, but from how anxious and reluctant he seemed when it came to helping out Kocos, it was clear he was more worried about saving his friends than anything. Sonic in almost the entirety of the game had no drive to save the world or anything, he didn't even know whether the world was even in danger or not, he wasn't a hero in this game, he didn't have the role of a hero in this game.

He was a friend.

This was Sonic with his hero mask off. Tired, concerned, at wits and strength's end, enduring, probably knowing he might not survive that corruption but smiling because then his friends would be free and he'd be darned before any of them gets hurt. He was willing to die to set his friends free. In Unleashed, he told Chip, "Do I need a reason to help out a friend?" But even in Unleashed he was on the mission of saving the world. This time? This game added lore and emotions and character growth and themes of living and acceptance and peace and perseverance and hope, but at the core of it all, it was centered on family.

For Sonic, it was centered on protecting his family. For Tails, Knuckles and Amy, it was centered on growing to their full potential but still protecting their friend. For Sage, it was about protecting her family. And what's funny is that she wasn't even the villain or had any intention to harm in the first place, all her warnings were honest. She was attempting to get him to see reason and have him leave so he wouldn't get corrrupted and so the world doesn't get placed in danger.

As Sage said, "Both of us will do anything to protect those who are precious to us."

He'd do anything for his friends. And they are precious to him, more than anyone or anything else. More than the people, more than the inhabitants of Starfall Islands, more than chaos and Kocos, more than the ancients, more than the world. He helped save the world from The End but he wouldn't have been able to that in the first if it weren't for his friends. They not only set him free, they also gave him drive to continue. The first thing he says after being cured was, "I will not let you down." Sonic's friends are precious to him.

....

The emotions, the dialogue, the story, the characterization, the lore, the music... This game is the revival of this franchise. Even its title is perfect for the storyline as well as lore.

Also, my heart hurts from so many emotions.

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #sage #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers spoilers #sonic frontiers sage #the only gripe i might hold for this game is Tails decision to leave and live away from his brother #i mean. he can live up to his full potential & grow & all. even hold back from following after Sonic but they didn't have to separate #i mean. Sonic was still worried. that was his little brother. an orphan. an 8 to 10 year old child. #he didn't need to go off on his own to prove his worth to himself #that's all though. i can't handle two b3st friends who have an unbreakable bond separating. hurts every time #miles tails prower

[rid-182]

〖You go down just like Holy Mary, Mary on a, Mary on a cross. 〗

Alt! Gabriel x Reader

WARNINGS: Religious Imagery, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation?

But this, it wasn't normal.

Your heart beat almost 130 per minute, breath hitching at any given chance; almost as if a panic attack was threatening to happen at whatever moment.

You found odd presences of heat lacking in your house a well as chills running down your spine nearly anytime you were about to relax.

That's when such unfortunate message was broadcasted.

You could feel your chest being ripped open by your own pounding heart.

That such night you couldn't bring yourself to sleep, even if it was near a day that you last slept.

Even with the dread boiling inside you, maybe drowsiness was finally setting in you.

Or so you had thought.

You tried closing your eyes, but your vision only got brighter. You couldn't even tell if it was morning anymore, you just felt brightness pierce through your eyelids.

But, the mistake was for you to open your eyes.

There stood before you, a creature, not sure to be recognized as a human or, angel.

"Do not be afraid, my child"

Oh but you were afraid. A frightened black sheep, in need of guidance from an angel. An archangel at that.

You could almost feel your mind completely shatter, not processing such entity being nearly next to you.

"Please, I don't know what you want or who you are but please, leave"

This, "Angel" only came closer to you, inches away from your face.

An almost deranged grin spread across its face, reaching the very tips of its eyes.

"My child, do not fret. I am merely but an Angel, here to bring you a message"

This was but a facade. You wouldn't be deceived by such creature. Or so you had wished.

.

Now, you were sure that night hadn't happened. An angel did not visit you, for it was all just a dream. Right?

More despair only came upon you however.

You couldn't comprehend such entity, even if it really was a mere hallucination or dream. This confusion only drove you to what seemed to be the brink of insanity.

Every morning after, you we're only left pondering. Thinking about what you had "seen".

And every morning, you felt closer compelled to what felt like the only true answer.

You sat down on you kitchen floor. barely recognizable anymore; all plates and cutlery stacked upon each other; the floor tiles filled with what seemed to be a mix of dust and mold.

You contemplated grabbing the now rusty knife, the slightest tip pointing at your stomach.

You knew it wouldn't take long, so, why we're you so afraid to do it?

There was no longer anything to live for if you had to "live" with the burden of this, insanity.

The point began tearing through your skin already, it was nowhere near severe yet you felt like fainting.

In such precise moment, you saw it, once more.

That, Angel. Alternate. Demon, even.

"Sweet dove, you mustn't do this."

-

Wasn't this what you were tasked to do?

You'd be satisfied for another human to die, soon to be replaced with its alternate.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to do these things to one of your flock.

These human like feelings had completely taken over you, dragging your own body closer this, black sheep.

You found yourself right behind such human, tightly gripping to the rusted knife, not exactly moving. Just stopping its motion.

"Child, you mustn't refuge to such selfish actions."

-

This angel's wings were now wrapped around you, holding you captive in a sea of feathers.

Th slightest of blood tainting the both of you, and as this ichor rushed, so did your adrenaline.

We're you going to die, now?

In the hands of an Angel?

"My child, be not afraid, your wounds shall be healed, never will you suffer this pain again"

You we're confused more than scared now.

"If you truly are an angel, why must you hav dragged me through Hell's insanity?"

It didn't respond, only held you tighter in its clasp.

"You are but a grain of golden sand, my pet. I must never let you slip through my fingers, into the deep. "

You choked out a sob, tears threatening to cascade.

"There is no need to cry, dear. You've sinned, but I love the sinner not the sin. "

Those whispers he told you only made waterfalls out of you.

"I don't understand why you've come to torment me, why must you drag me through hell only to say you love me?

Again, he remained silent. Incomprehensible whispers made themselves home in your now broken mind; there was really nothing for you to do now, only cry into its wings and beg for a fabricated forgiveness.

"Can't you see I've done this because I love you, my dove?"

#sus gabriel #alternate gabriel #mandela county #mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue gabriel #alt gabriel #sus gabriel x reader #alternate gabriel x reader #archangel gabriel #alex kister #analog horror

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Chapter Ten! I hope you liked the Trick or Treat game for our Halloween Special. Now let’s see if you were right…

Please do your part and leave a like/reblog if you read it :)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Series intro Your First Year Hogwarts Letter

Chapter Ten ~ The Winds Of Change

Slowly, (Y/N) was starting to settle in at Hogwarts. Her classes were going well, she consumed information like a starved man sat before a buffet, and the only person whom she’d consider a friends was Saoirse. Her roommates coming close, but she only really interacted with them in their dorm. Her next goal was to make a decent fiend. After all, what is a protagonist without an arch-nemesis or two?

There was one thing, however, that unsettled her deeply; that shook the caverns of her soul and twisted her innards in pleasant discomfort. (Y/N) had always been quite intuitive, she had a knack for sensing when something was coming, and as of late she felt that same twinge in her subconscious that whispered of a storm. ‘The winds of change’, her grandmama would tell her.

After receiving a reply from her family (and having to plough through a whole long paragraph of Wednesday’s complaints on losing money because of her), she now would only write to them once a week, usually on the weekends. A steady schedule soon developed: on weekdays she would complete her homeworks when assigned, on Fridays she’d write a letter, send it on Saturday after lunch, and receive a reply by Monday – Mortis was glad for the five days of unbothered rest.

October had quickly come and (Y/N) was glad to see the season change; nature was always so beautiful when it was on the brink of death. There was a cold chill to the air that made its way all through the halls of Hogwarts, everywhere where there were no fires to keep the cold at bay. That was the lovely thing about old stone castles: they were always cold. Soon there would be a Hallowe’en feast, and even though she couldn’t spend the important celebration with her family, (Y/N) was looking forward to it. Though, the idea of not spending such a treasured and traditional night with her family greatly saddened her, she was simply too far away. Perhaps next year they could figure something out.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, classes had finished for the day, and (Y/N) and Soairse had come to the library to complete their homework. Two months had quickly flown by at Hogwarts and soon classes would be getting more practical; that being said, there was a lot more theory to magic than (Y/N) had initially thought. Transfiguration was proving to be rather complicated. At some point, (Y/N) had to consider for herself if humans really had any business manipulating the particle structure of anything at all.

“Now wait a minute, wait a minute,” Saoirse spoke up from deep in her Herbology studies, “I thought the mandrake was the one that grew in a bush.”

(Y/N) shook her head and rolled up the sleeves of her black shirt. “Mandrakes are the ones that look a bit like turnips – they can kill you with their scream.”

A look of recognition quickly crossed the brunette’s face. “Oh yeah… well now I’ve got a new name to call my brother.”

Soairse was proving to be a valuable study partner; so far she’d been quick to memorise her charms, sneaked snacks past Madame Pince, and even insisted on making acronyms to remember ingredients for Potions (which (Y/N) would absolutely not admit she used herself).

“It’s no wonder she’s a Slytherin…” (Y/N) heard from a few tables away, glancing to a group of students huddled together, whispering to each other animatedly, “I heard they’re related to vampires.”

“Well I heard they live in a graveyard – dead bodies everywhere!” A boy spoke up, cupping a hand at the side of his face as if it would quieten the accusation.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and went back to her homework, dipping her quill back into her ink and ignoring the boring school gossip, offering Soairse a better word to describe a mandrake’s scream.

“Fraser Nittle told me they keep a monster in the belfry,” a girl’s voice whispered, “and the last one that came here went mad, a real psycho apparently.”

Soairse had started packing up, something about changing her socks for better ones before lunch, and (Y/N) began to do the same, leaving the last paragraph of her essay for later. She ignored the silly gossip, uninterested in the news going about the castle, but unfortunately that didn’t stop her from hearing it. “They’re all freaks, those Addamses.”

Now that caught her attention.

Stopping in her tracks, (Y/N) quickly felt a wave of cool anger come over her, and her face hardened like it had turned to cold stone. Light on her steps, she turned to the table of gossipers, and crept up behind them. They were all hunched over their books, not even working on anything, she didn’t even recognise any of their faces – not that she cared.

“His name is Lurch.”

The group jumped at her sudden presence at their backs, startled and almost frightened when they saw who it was that lurked over them. Barely stuttering out any words.

She sent them the dead-eyed look her mother often used, the one reserved for special circumstances, when someone had crossed a line. “And he isn’t a monster. He’s a butler.” She said sternly. “Not that it makes him any less dangerous.” (Y/N) took great satisfaction in the fear in their eyes. She didn’t move, she barely even blinked, just stood there like a headstone, waiting for their discomfort to spill over, before walking away without another look, as silent as she came.

This place was full of gossip and rumours, hardly any of which held any truth. But she wouldn’t let it bother her; there were always rumours about her family, it was simply something she was used to. People didn’t like it when someone was too different – apparently that extended into the wizarding world as well.

“Is that true?” Saoirse asked as they exited the library, and (Y/N) frowned in disappointment at the inevitable next sentence. “D’you really have a butler? Can I meet him?”

(Y/N) fought back a small smile. Yes, she definitely liked this one.

Hallowe’en was (Y/N)’s favourite time of year; the spookiness, the ghost stories, the darkness. It was all so wonderful. All of the Addams clan took the holiday very seriously, after all it was a very important day in their peculiar culture. It was like New Year’s and Christmas and birthdays all in one, and they stretched the whole thing out over three days and three nights. There would be a feast bigger than the whole family could eat, séances every night, and then readings from Poe before bed. A hundred activities to partake in: pumpkin carving, pumpkin smashing, Wake The Dead, fancy dress, haunted walks, death masks… endless freaky fun. Even if she couldn’t be there with them, she’d promised to at least read the Raven before bed and try to contact Grandfather Humphrey and Grandmother Hester from the Other Side.

There was a strange warm ambiance about Hogwarts, a certain atmosphere filled with joy and… happiness. The castle wasn’t at all dark and creepy like the Addams home would be; the decorations were all vibrant colours and bright patterns, banners hung on the stone walls, and Peeves the Poltergeist was having the time of his life (or rather, death) scaring dozens of students by the hour. The infamous Weasley Twins had doubled or perhaps even tripled their pranks and so far no one was safe. Especially on Hallowe’en day.

That morning, after a rather eventful breakfast (curtsey of the Weasley twins), the first years had Charms class. The professor had even troubled himself to decorate the classroom for the season, all floating pumpkins and orange streamers. Nothing too exciting. If (Y/N) had been in his place, she would have charmed a giant spider to walk on the ceiling, or stuffed some skeletons in a closet, but not everyone could be as creative, she supposed. Perhaps if she was lucky a Jack-O-lantern would bite off someone’s hand.

This would be their first practical charms lesson, and everyone was very excited. To control this excitement, Flitwick decided it would be best to choose everyone’s partners – and unfortunately, (Y/N) found herself yet again stuck next to none other than Draco Malfoy. And this time she couldn’t simply ignore him and let him fly off on a broom.

The professor, atop his desk, was lecturing everyone on the importance of pronunciation, and reminding the class of a student who misspoke and suffered for it… something about a buffalo?

A fluffy white feather lay still on the desk between them, an ugly thing that probably felt as soft as a cloud. Everyone was quick to try, with few succeeding to make their feathers do more than flutter, one student accidentally made their table jump. It seemed magic was much harder than waving a wand and saying a little phrase in a dead language.

“Ladies first.” Malfoy said to her, giving a taunting look as he glanced about at the other students.

“Well then by all means, I’m happy to wait.” She replied with a gesture towards the feather, pleased with the glare he sent back. She could feel the ‘how very dare you’ on the tip of his tongue. “Unless, of course, you don’t think you can.”

He took the bait. “Fine.” Sitting up a little straighter, Malfoy cleared his throat and gripped his wand tight. “Wingardium Leviosa,” he muttered as he moved his wand to the right and down. The feather moved a millimetre or two, but it was hard to tell whether it was by magic or simply the air moving with his gesture. A deep frown set over his face, pale cheeks flushing and mouth pursing as he gritted his teeth and tried again. Only to receive a similar outcome. “It’s not as easy as it looks, you know.” He quipped, hiding his embarrassment with frustration.

“I know.” She replied. (Y/N) moved some hair out of her eyes and looked across the room to where Saoirse sat, gesturing with her wand and talking to her partner – (Y/N) had quickly come to learn that her friend was very talented in this class; the two had spent all of the day before in the library reading about it, and Saoirse was sure she knew exactly what she was doing by the time she’d checked out three different books, two of which were far above their skill level. “You’re too rough with it.” She said monotonously, though he didn’t seem to like being given advice.

The boy scrunched up his nose. “Excuse me?” He demanded accusatorily.

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) pointed to his balled up fist. “Your gesture. Think of it this way: you’re trying to make something float, make it light as a feather. So you have to reflect that in your movements.” At least that’s what Saoirse’s book had said – neither of them had actually practiced.

“Look here, everyone! Miss Granger’s done it!” Professor Flitwick cried from across the room, gaining that class’ attention. A Gryffindor girl with bushy brunette hair smiled proudly at the praise, wand still raised daintily in the direction of her white feather suspended four feet in the air; next to her sat Ron Weasley, looking bitterly on with his arms folded.

(Y/N) turned back to tell her temporary partner to try again, when she caught sight of his own bitter expression. “Perfect little mudblood, always showing off.” He spat under his breath.

Mudblood. She knew that word, had heard it plenty of times, she knew it had even been used to insult her family – it seemed blood purity (no matter how pure or powerful) was still tainted when it came to squibs. And she didn’t like the word coming from his mouth one bit. “Wingardium Leviosa,” she pronounced with a swish and flick of her wrist, but rather than direct it up, she flicked it right to the boy’s face. Honestly, she hadn’t even expected it to work on her first try, but the sight of Malfoy getting a mouth full of flying feather was perfect all the same. “Oops.”

“You did that on purpose!” Malfoy shouted, still spitting little bits of white off of his tongue.

“Did I?” She questioned innocently, watching as he glared with a new fury. “Why would I do that?”

“Of course you did!” He fired back. “You think you’re better than me, do you? Just because you and that Granger girl got beginner’s luck. Well you’re not--”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Flitwick scolded, suddenly stood on some steps near their shared desk. “I’d expect you to speak to your peers much more respectfully in my classroom.” The short man said, pointing a finger at the misbehaving boy. “That’s ten points from Slytherin – and not another word, or it will be twenty.”

Malfoy crossed his arms and slumped back in his seat, watching as their professor made his way back to another student who needed attention. (Y/N) was glad that he was put in his place for it, but certainly not happy that he’d lost them house points. “Well done, genius.” She said sarcastically as she put her black wand in her robe pocket, getting up to chat with Saoirse before he could say anything more.

Celebratory feasts at Hogwarts were like no other – at least, that’s what (Y/N) had heard. Her roommates had all already left to get some good seats, Saoirse included, while (Y/N) stayed behind to change. She’d just finished reading another letter sent from her family and unpacking a box of gifts for the holiday. Tonight they were all dressing up and holding a séance with her mother’s dead parents, then moulding and painting death masks to add to their collection. Tying her hair back in two plaits, (Y/N) checked herself over in the tall mirror that stood by their door; black trousers, black boots, and a black half-turtleneck jumper, the only colour on her at all was an emerald encased in silver, a snake-shaped ring she’d been sent – a symbol of her house and a reminder to always be proud of it.

Jinx made a noise from his place on her windowsill, clicking his claws into the soft cushion she’d sat there and glaring at Mouse for shedding on it. “I’ll be back later, Jinx.” She said, checking the guard was in front of their dorm fireplace before she left with promises to bring him back some scraps.

The halls of the Dungeon were cold and dead, all students and staff far away in the Great Hall making the most of the celebration. (Y/N) knew she was late to dinner, but the Dungeons were just such a lovely place to be that she couldn’t help but wander slower than usual. The Dungeons reminded her a little of home, the chill in the air and the stone walls were much akin to the Vaults beneath their house, and the creaky doors and shadowy corners shrouded in mystery just felt so home-like that she couldn’t help but dawdle. Especially today, when she was feeling more homesick than she had since she arrived.

There was a commotion suddenly, (Y/N) heard the sound coming from a dark corridor to her left, some muttering followed by a loud clatter and the sound of something hard knocking on the floor. Her gut told her to ignore it, but another, much more persuasive side of her told her to investigate – curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

There were no torches lit down the hall, only the faint glow of one around a corner. She couldn’t be sure if she’d ever been down this way before, there weren’t any classrooms down the steps at the end – none that she knew of – all just storage cupboards or something, she’d been told. But now she wondered if there were more to the Dungeons than she’d been led to believe. There was another sound, further away, or maybe not – it was so hard to tell with the way it travelled around the stone tunnels – but (Y/N) was sure she’d heard a grunt or growl of some kind. Slowly, she reached into her boot for the dagger she carried (something every Addams should have on their person at all times). A wand would have been of no use, anyway, not if the only spell she knew was the floating charm. Her heart leapt in her chest with every step she took, following the light from the torch, going ever deeper into the mysterious corridor. It had been far too long since she’d felt such delightful fear, her heart almost ached from missing the erratic pounding of the effects.

All was silent. No more bangs, or grunts, or panicked muttering. When she finally made it to the end, coming to face no more than an old locked door and a flight of stairs going back up, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed as she tucked the dagger back in its hiding spot. It was probably just Peeves, anyway. Having wasted enough time and feeling the pang of hunger in her empty stomach, (Y/N) hurried up the stairs and found herself just another hallway away from the Dungeon exit and back to the main floors.

The Great Hall was, admittedly, looking splendid. Candles floated under the image of the cloudy black sky, carved pumpkins grinning down on them, and live bats screeching and flitting about. She would definitely be telling this to her family in her next letter tomorrow.

“(Y/N)!” Saoirse shouted from the Slytherin table, shouting loudly over the crowds far away towards the staff table, right at the end of the row.

As she walked between the tables and passed students laughing and talking, (Y/N) ignored how some people gave her strange looks, or waited for her to pass before continuing their conversations. Another rumour was developing about the monster she had for a butler, only this time people couldn’t decide what sort of monster he was.

Sitting herself next to Saoirse, who was mixing together apple sauce and cranberry sauce on her plate, (Y/N) straightened her sleeves and greeted her other roommates, who were talking to a boy she recognised from Herbology. He seemed pleasant enough, introducing himself with only a second hesitance, he even shook her hand. What did he say his name was? Blade? She couldn’t hear him all that well over the crowd, but Saoirse would surely inform her later.

She wasn’t planning on staying for too long, not when she had to make time for a séance, she would simply eat until she was full and engage in the usual amount of conversation. But she’d barely had time to reach for dessert when the giant doors of the entrance slammed open and a scrawny, pasty man in a turban came running in faster than he looked capable of.

“TROLL!” Quirrell screamed in the stunned silence. “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!” He’d almost reached Dumbledor’s chair when he seemed to suddenly run out of adrenaline. “Thought you ought to know.” He managed, before collapsing in his exhaustion.

There was a brief pause as everyone processed what had just happened, then suddenly an uproar. Screams and shouts of terror, panic and chaos that reminded (Y/N) of so many family events, when a thought soon dawned on her: that was what she heard in the Dungeon. That was what she’d almost encountered. Not Peeves, not the Twins, and certainly not her imagination – a troll.

What happened to Hogwarts being the safest place on Earth?

“SILENCE!”

Startled by Dumbledor’s voice, the entire student body froze where they were. All teachers were stood from their seats with similar looks on their faces, Quirrell still laid face-down on the floor. “Prefects, lead your houses back to their dorms immediately.”

It was a sensible instruction, at least for the first three seconds – but anyone who thought at all longer would consider that it wasn’t actually very good advice to give to one fourth of the school. Wouldn’t it be safer to keep everyone in one place, where they already where, than have everyone go through the castle in smaller groups, a quarter of whom who were instructed to go the scene of the danger? Everyone knew Slytherin House was set up in the Dungeons, and Hufflepuff not far behind.

Realising this, many of the Slytherins went into a whole new panic, even (Y/N) could see it. Saoirse was covering her ears, Bridget was trying to protest, and even Draco Malfoy could be heard shrieking like a banshee. But all other prefects were already set in motion out the doors, and Slytherin was being made to follow behind. Oh great.

After the excitement of the night’s dinner, the Slytherin common room was crowded by students putting off going to bed; over half an hour of attendance checks to confirm everyone was accounted for wasn’t enough to ease their nerves, most staying up to avoid sleep, a few hiding away in their rooms. It was one thing (Y/N) was thankful for – now she had the dorm all to herself while her roommates kept to the common area, not that they were all that eager to be in the same room as she performed her ritual.

The only light in the room came from the crackling fireplace and the circle of candles in which she sat. A bowl of dried sage and herbs smoked to her side, some crystals dotted here and there, some photos of various passed family members, and (most importantly) an old ouija board and a crystal ball sat before her crossed legs. Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind, (Y/N) pictured her grandparents in her minds eye and began to recite the Summoning, one she’d heard hundreds of times.

“Sing, O spirits. Harken, all souls. I offer clarion to Humphrey and Hester Frump.” She recited, imitating the commanding voice her mother used every year. “Let me ransom you from the power of the grave. Tonight, O Death, let me be your plague.” The crystal ball started to cloud in a divine mist, opening a door between the worlds of the living and the dead, inviting the spirit of a relative through.

She could feel a presence, vague and distant but there. She carefully placed her fingers on the planchett, opening her mind to feel the pull. The candles flickered as she felt it in the room, awaiting her command. It felt different to every other time she’d been present for a séance; each spirit had a unique feeling. Where she would usually smell expensive soap and chloroform, this time she smelt sugar and burning calligraphy paper. Frowning slightly, (Y/N) reached out with her mind to greet them. “Grandmother? Is that you?” She asked, waiting for the presence to move the planchett tab.

She felt it pull to answer, fingers following it up the board. No.

“Grandfather?”

Again it answered – no.

She froze, every muscle in her body stopping still, sucking in a breath as she stared at the planchette beneath her fingers in alarm.

If this wasn’t her grandparents… then who did she make Contact with?

Heart hammering in her chest as the crystal ball clouded in a swirling mist, (Y/N) racked her brain for who it could be if not a grandparent she called to her. Did she do the ritual wrong? Did she call on the wrong spirit? (Y/N) had partaken in countless seances before, but rarely on her own – it wouldn’t be all that surprising if she’d made a mistake.

Another pull tugged at her – not at her fingers this time, but at something deep in her spirit, dragging her in, pushing her mind and soul aside to make room for another. Her senses were overcome with something so other. There was no smell of burning sage and wormwood, no crackling fire, no velvet green dormitory; only whatever this other was. It was dark, and cold, and empty. There was no sound at all. And then, slowly, she saw. A room, dark and unlit. A figure shifted through, cloaked and unrecognisable, and reached forward to a wall – no, a shelf. But before she could make out what they were doing, it all changed again. A tower, standing tall and proud in the rain of a storm, snow and sleet coating the turret roof. A door. A clock. A crow. A murky window. A tunnel. A statue. A fire. All things that seemed so unrelated. She felt the grip this spirit had on her begin to slip, as if they clutched her with watery hands, digging their nails into the flesh of her soul just to stay a little longer. Addams, it called in a voice roughened with deep rest, far away like they spoke from a flooded grave. She wanted to answer, to ask or say anything, but her voice was stolen from her. I’ve been waiting. It said again, slowly fading away back into the beyond. Find…

Suddenly she felt the spirit tear out of her body, ripping away from its clutch on her soul as it was dragged back beyond the veil, trying to reach out again but it was no use. She could feel their desperation, their pain, their anger. (Y/N) didn’t understand.

Sweat gathered on her brow, her skin clammy and her breath was short and shallow. Slowly, (Y/N) felt her senses come back to her. She brought a shaky hand up to her head, feeling a headache coming on.

What was that?

Who was that?

Thoughts spun around in her head as the dizziness and fatigue that follows such a ritual performed by the inexperience settled heavily over her, making her feel weak in every muscle of her body. Staring vacantly at her surroundings, (Y/N) held in a shaky breath and started to blow out the few remaining candle flames and carefully place her things in a chest to slide under her bed. Already in her pyjamas, (Y/N) sat up in her bed, exhausted from the effort but unable to sleep, those words from that disturbing undead voice filling her anxious mind as Jinx remained asleep on the pillow beside her.

This was by far the strangest Hallowe’en she’d ever had. So far.

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[writingduhh]

Pumpkin Patch || Ted Nivison

I made a little mood board for this fanfic because why not

Now just sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Paring: Ted & Y/n

Type: Fluff

It was finally October, and nature had donned its autumn attire. The leaves had transformed into a mesmerizing display of colors, a crisp chill permeated the air, and, most importantly, Halloween loomed on the horizon. As tradition dictated, you and your boyfriend, Ted were heading to the local pumpkin patch, an eagerly awaited experience that had occupied your thoughts for months.

"I'm so excited!" you grinned, your enthusiasm almost palpable as you practically bounced in your seat, resembling a child on the brink of an adventure.

"Oh really? I didn't notice," your boyfriend Ted teased, turning onto the dirt road leading to the patch.

After a short drive, you arrived at a rustic clearing surrounded by sprawling fields of corn and various fall vegetables. With only a few cars in the lot, parking near the front stand was a breeze. He switched off the car's engine and came around to your side, extending his hand, which you happily accepted. Together, you made your way to the small admission stand.

"Two admission tickets, please," you requested, and the lady exchanged the money Ted held for two pumpkin-shaped tickets.

"Alright, let's start our search," He grinned, releasing your hand, allowing you to explore the plethora of pumpkins. The selection was diverse, featuring pumpkins of different shapes, colors, and even a few squashes, should you feel the urge to carve those for some peculiar reason.

Speaking of pumpkins, you hoisted one into the air, calling out to Ted,

“Look at this beauty!”

"Oh my, that's amazing! Stay right there; I need a picture," he smirked , promptly retrieving his phone to snap a few photos.

"How did you even manage to pick that up? It's almost as big as you!" he marveled, assisting you in returning the pumpkin to where it belonged.

"What can I say, the Halloween spirit runs in my veins," you quipped.

"Oh, that makes sense. Wait, are you a witch, then?"

"Did you just call me a witch…?”

"No! I didn't mean it that way!" he stammered.

"Relax, Teddy, I'm teasing," you reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

After some more laughter and pumpkin exploration, you found yourselves at the food booths.

"Wow, look at all these options," you remarked, eyeing the extensive list of assorted food and beverages.

"I know, this is going to be a tough choice," he agreed.

After what felt like an eternity of deliberation, you settled on apple cider and pumpkin-flavored cookies.

"Where should we sit?" your boyfriend asked, carrying both of your treats.

"Hmm, what about over there?" you suggested, nodding toward a stack of hay bales beside the cornfield.

"Perfect."

Carefully, you sat down on the large bales when suddenly, Ted plopped himself down onto your lap. Rather than resisting, as he might have expected, you simply embraced the moment, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Oops, my mistake. I thought this was my seat," he winked, feigning an attempt to stand up.

You didn't release him, though; instead, you held onto him tightly.

“This IS your seat.” You smirked, arms wrapped around his waist.

"No, no, no, it's the other way around," he corrected.

In a swift motion, he placed your food on the ground before lifting you up off your feet and setting you down on his lap, one arm wrapping around your waist.

"See? There we go," he said casually, taking a sip of his cider.

At this point, you couldn't help but blush. Your plan had clearly backfired, but you didn't mind.

After enjoying your snacks, you wandered around some more until you spotted it—the most perfect pumpkin you had ever seen. As if on cue, you and your boyfriend locked eyes, silently communicating your choice.

"That one."

"You read my mind."

Hastily, you made your way to the pumpkin, but it was too heavy for you to lift. Being the gentleman he was, your boyfriend assisted you in carrying the pumpkin to the stand where you purchased it.

"I think we should name it Henry," you suggested, patting the pumpkin.

"Babe, remember what happened last year?" he cautioned.

You hesitated, recalling the struggle you had faced trying to carve and eventually part with the pumpkin you had named.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Let's just stick to calling it 'the pumpkin,' okay?" he chuckled softly, planting a kiss on your head.

“Ugh fine.”

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[by-soleil]

yours

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Female Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, slight crack

Warning: wonwoo is a god sent of a man (2)

This fic was inspired by “yours - chanyeol, lee hi, changmo, raiden”

a part two of this fic >>> “pov"

•••

There are two words you often life by.

The first one being, impossible.

A word you associate to a lot of things. Call it being a pessimist, to you, it’s being realistic.

And there’s the second one, predictable.

Things in your life are mostly, if not all predictable. There’s no use wishing upon the stars, life has taught you that wishing for things would just be the first part of disappointment. The sweetest part of it.

But as if sent straight from heaven above, Jeon Wonwoo swoops in. Turning your impossible to possible and predictable to unpredictable.

The first time Wonwoo saw you was when you were burying your face in books upon books at the library. It was the monday leading up to mid-term week.

Your hair was a complete mess bunched up on top of your head, the phrase you’ve been trying to understand for a good thirty minutes now is making less sense the more you read it. Sparking tears on the inner corner of your eyes.

Covering both your eyes with neon-highlighter stained hands, you groan silently. Not wanting to burst to tears in packed library full of over sensitive college students.

Wonwoo should overlooked you. He really should. Despite looking like a deranged mess, that type of sight is nothing out of the ordinary this time of the year. Basically you’re blending in just fine with the crowd. And yet, Wonwoo’s eyes somehow pulled towards you.

The next few days, Wonwoo’s eyes kept finding you at the library. You either doing the silent groan or on the brink of consciousness trying to find a way to stay awake. Making his time at the library a tad bit more fun than usual.

On the actual week of mid-term you pretty much all caught up with the syllabus making the study time at the library more like a review time. Hence you can actually pay a little more attention on how you look. Thanking the stars you decidedly doing so.

Ditching the sluggish sweatpants, you opt for your favorite pair of jeans and a puffy cardigan to keep you somewhat warm and prepared for the early november chills.

With the library still as packed, you quickly find yourself a seat and settle down before you start reviewing your stuff.

With your study timer starts ticking and the lofi music starts pouring out of your airpods, you immerse yourself with pages upon pages of your notebook. Finally enjoying the study flow you’ve been curating since the beginning of the semester.

Having spent weeks with the same old routine inside the library, you expect no social interaction. So when the deep voice pierces thru the lofi music in your ears, it took you a few extra seconds to realize that the said voice was directed to you.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? Wouldn’t wanna bother you but everywhere else is taken. Sorry.” Wonwoo finally say after spending the last seven minutes mustering up the courage and forming a somewhat coherent sentence.

Wonwoo’s a pretty laid back guy. Rarely get nervous, but for some reason, asking you about the empty seat he clearly knows doesn’t belong to anyone after seeing you study alone for God knows how many times now, made him so.

Wonwoo never cares who seat next to him at the library. Why would he? He didn’t even look at any of them. So him asking for permission to sit on an obviously empty seat surprises both you and himself.

“Y—yeah, sure. It’s yours.” you nod, trying your best to look away.

Mirroring what you feel inside, Wonwoo tries to keep his expression as calm before taking the seat. Murmuring a quick thank you as he does so.

Wonwoo is not one to talk or initiates a conversation first with stranger. In an unfamiliar setting, he usually just sit back and observe his surrounding. Which is why Wonwoo would notice the way you move your chair slightly towards him. And also the way you glance up at him every now and then, making the little smile appear on his face.

“Umm, what’s your name?” you quickly ask after introducing yourself, catching Wonwoo off guard.

Smiling, Wonwoo offer his hand as he introduce himself.

“Okay, since you asked me about that chair earlier, I really can’t help but thinking how nice it would be if we could save each other a seat at the library. You know since the seat is pretty much always taken…” you start off your proposal. “I mean, if I got here first then I’d save you a seat and if it was you who got here first, you save me one. How’s that sound?”

With amusement evident on his face, Wonwoo murmurs “Wow, you talk pretty fast.” making you blush out of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anyth—” you immediately apologize, feeling more embarrassed the longer Wonwoo stare at you.

“No! I mean, yeah we could do that.” Wonwoo quickly cut you off before you got the wrong idea. The fact that you initiate the conversation then the possibility of future meet ups lifts a huge weight off of Wonwoo’s shoulder.

Though the whole time sitting next to you he might look very immersed on whatever book he’s currently annotating, Wonwoo’s mind was working extra hard to formulate a way for him to introduce himself. Something he really thought he’d never do, let alone asking for a favor to save him a seat.

“Great, but if it’s too much trouble you can always say no. I was just thinking it’ll be better for both parties y’know? One less thing to worry about.” you continue to blabber, pulling a laugh from Wonwoo.

A laugh that stops you right then, captivated by how his face demeanor changes significantly. What once was a cold—borderline scary—expression melts into a sweet warm smile that resembles a cat meme you saw floating around on the internet.

“No, honestly, I’d love that. If you didn’t ask, I would’ve asked you for the same thing. Like you said, better for both of us.” he assures you, exactly the right thing to do seeing how your anxiousness is now starting to subside.

After successfully—and also shamefully—asking to save each other’s number for convenience, you both head out of the library. Matching up your class schedules to find a common ground.

Holding yourself back, afraid you might unconsciously push your luck once more and ask him for a quick lunch tomorrow.

Little did you know, Wonwoo was doing the exact same thing.

“Dude, why do you keep glancing at your watch, hot date or something?” DK teases Wonwoo who have been checking the time every few minutes.

As expected, the small chuckle followed by a brief explanation about his plan to go to the library right after lunch, got Wonwoo receiving a few heavy sighs from his friends.

“Dude, chill. You can have fun too, you know? You don’t have to work so hard all the time. It’s okay.” Joshua peeps in, giving Wonwoo a few encouraging squeezes on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I am having fun. Gotta run, tho. I’ll see y’all tonight!” Wonwoo then quickly gather all his stuff before jogging straight to the library where he promise you to be the one saving the seat.

Upon seeing your stumbling figure entering the library carrying a few heavy textbooks that you know you’ll never finish by today, Wonwoo quickly stands up and head your way.

“I got you, let me help.” Wonwoo calmly say as he took the heavy textbooks from your crumbling little fingers. Laughing when you let out a small squeak instead of thanking him.

One of the few little things Wonwoo realizes you do.

“Are you planing on getting thru all of these?” Wonwoo taps on the heavy books.

Shaking your head, you sigh. “In a perfect world, I would. But it’s not. So, I’ll just stop when my head starts steaming.” you lazily say, making it a lot funnier for Wonwoo.

“Sorry, it’s funny. You're funny.” Wonwoo throw both his hands up in defense when you throw him a questioning look.

Eyeing his workspace, you mumble quickly “You can go ahead and leave when you're done. Thank you for the seat.”

“No, I think I’ll stay.” Wonwoo chirps, making you turn your head to figure out wether he’s joking or not only to find him already sucked into whatever book he’s got open in front of him.

The next few weeks spent with the study date—a term you singlehandedly use to describe the meet ups—becoming more and more frequent. Meeting Wonwoo on a daily basis have become somewhat of a habit.

Wonwoo : Bad news, there’s no seat available. I’ve looked on both first and second floor.

You : Awh no :(((

You : I really need to prepare for my next exam, ughhhhhh.

Wonwoo : We could study at my place if you want. Or cafes great too.

You : Are you sure? That would be amazing, my roommate noisy as hell. I’ll never get anything through this thick skull of mine.

Wonwoo : Where are you? Still at the dorm? If so, I’ll pick you up.

You : Thank you, Wonwoo.

And with that, the blurred lines between you and Wonwoo seemed to be even more ambiguous.

What was once an innocent study session have turned into a real study dates where Wonwoo would rest his head on your shoulder when he can feel his head stated to steam up.

•••

Wonwoo used to wonder, what is it about you that made him attracted. It could be the sunshine and rainbow you keep showing whenever he’s around. Or it could be the ready to fight spurs of energy you seemed to always have when things take a turn for the worst. To this day Wonwoo still can’t seem to pin point the exact thing.

“What is it about you?” Wonwoo whisper to himself as he clear out the strands of hair from you sleeping face. Another study session ends up with you falling asleep on Wonwoo’s couch.

“Never letting my mind at ease, got me worrying over your well being everytime.” he continues, fingers running down your hair.

Spending more than enough time with Wonwoo have made you a pretty good guesser on what or how he feels. Or so you thought.

Wonwoo and his observant self have always been one step ahead, catching you worrying about the things you cannot control or the frustrated tears you often held back when you’re stuck on a situation with no one to talk to.

Wonwoo wish you would talk to him, he wishes you’d lay out everything to him. The good and the bad. Not showing him the fakest smile whenever you’re sad and not alone. He wishes he could be there for you, take away all your tears. He wishes you’d allow him to.

The happy go lucky facade you often sporting just made Wonwoo wonder how much trouble you bear alone.

With Wonwoo’s gentle hands caressing you out of the unconsciousness, your eyes flutter open to a pair of piercing eyes hidden behind his favorite glasses.

You smile, “How long was I out for?” you ask, enjoying the feel of Wonwoo’s big hands running down your spine.

“A few hours.” Wonwoo answers. “You’ll hurt your back sleeping here. Want me to carry you to the bed?”

“Five more minutes. I like looking at you.” you continue to smile, too happy with the state you're in right now.

Wonwoo then continue his ministration of soft hands down your back, chuckling here and there whenever you're shivering from the touch.

“Please, let me be yours.” Wonwoo suddenly blurt out. Vaporizing all hazy feeling your previous slumber had left you with.

Sitting up, you shake your head to completely wake yourself up. “What do you mean? Am I hallucinating? Are you drunk?” you squint your eyes trying to intimidate Wonwoo.

“You are not hallucinating, and no, I’m not drunk.” Wonwoo continue to laughs as he take a seat next to you on the couch.

“Then please explain further, my little brain cannot comprehend what you just said. And, no, I'm not expecting anything. I thought I heard something but I think I misheard you, so let me out of this short lived misery cause I—”

“Okay, shush—” Wonwoo stops you with a finger landing exactly in the middle of your lips. Shushing you real fast. “—I love it when you start blabbering everytime you’re caught off guard. But I can’t explain myself when you're giving me no room to talk. So, can I please continue my declaration of love?”

Your heart drops. What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself.

“Thank you.” Wonwoo smiles as if he didn’t just dropped a hefty fucking bomb on your heart before continuing his so called declaration of love. “I like you, obviously, everyone can tell. But spending all these time with you and looking at you from afar, I have notice one thing. That is I want all of you. Not just your bright sunny side, I want your sadness, I want you to share it with me. I want to be the one who takes away all your tears. Seeing you always hide whatever burden you're hiding from me saddens me. I want you.”

“Wonwoo..”

“Can I please, be yours?”

“Why?” you hate to be that girl, the girl who doubt herself and seek for validation. But every word fallen out of Wonwoo’s mouth makes absolutely zero sense.

“What do you mean? You brighten my day, I laugh the most when I’m with you. And I really want you to feel how I feel when I'm with you.”

“You're kidding. Wonwoo I swear on my next final exam’s grade if you’re playing with me I will haunt you till the rest of your day. You do know I can recite a few episode of ‘how to get away with murder’ splendidly, right?”

True to Wonwoo’s fashion, he laughs. The two big hands that were holding you by the shoulder are now wrapping you tight as Wonwoo pulls you to his lap. “Are you threatening me?”

With Wonwoo cradling you like a baby, you bury your face on Wonwoo’s neck. “I know you're big but I can beat you, you know!”

“And what if I’m not playing, what are you gonna do with me?” he softly challenge.

“I'm not answering that.”

“Why?” Wonwoo continues to laugh, big strong hands going back to deliver sweet caress down your back. Melting you right into him.

With no answer coming from you, Wonwoo push you a little to get a good look on you. Beet red face you're sporting gave everything away. Warming Wonwoo’s heart.

“You keep on surprising me, I’m not used to people breaking my expectation.” you finally say, can’t stand being this close to Wonwoo’s face.

“Not my fault your expectation on people is very low. You deserve a lot of things, yet you expect the worst.” Wonwoo’s hands fly to caress your burning cheek this time.

“Better than being disappointed.”

“Then, I will try my best to not disappoint you. Ever.” and with that Wonwoo lean forward, closing the heated gaps between the two of you.

The sweet movement of Wonwoo’s lips melts the stiffness of yours, breaking the wall you’ve put up around your heart little by little.

“Do you not like this? Why aren’t you kissing me back?” Wonwoo breathe into the kiss.

“No, I do. Keep going. I'm just shocked, that’s all.”

With your words in mind, Wonwoo deepens the kiss but stopping not long after when he can no longer contain his laugh.

“I’m sorry you're too funny. Why were you so stiff at first.” Wonwoo turn his face to release a held back laughter.

“Great, now I'm turned on and you're laughing. Greaaaaaat.” you sulk, lifting yourself to get off of Wonwoo’s lap.

“No, no, no, where are you going. I’m sorry. Let’s go again, I won’t laugh this time.” Wonwoo tries to deliver the sentence with straight face but failed miserably.

With disbelief you try to contain your laughter. “I can’t believe you. My ego is fucking bruised right now, and you’re still laughing?”

“You’re also trying not to laugh right now.” Wonwoo points out the obvious.

“We could’ve had a very hot and romantic night just now if it weren’t for your laughing.” you continue to act baffled with the laughter threatening to burst.

“We still could, come on. I'm sorry, I promise I won’t laugh.” Wonwoo quickly say but his laughter slipping out little by little.

“I think you need to calm down.” you finally laugh alongside Wonwoo. Burrying you face between his pecks, you let out all the laughter you’ve been holding with Wonwoo holding the both of you from shaking.

And with that, what supposedly a long hot night filled with affection was spent laughing and trying to calm each other down.

An odd way to end a night where two people come forward to bare out their feelings for one another, but with Wonwoo, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

•••

more of my stuff on my masterlist🤍 & twitter🌞

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[thyandrawrites]

I don't really do predictions but I want to put this out there in the very off chance that it might turn out to be true

Conspiracy theory: Touya always had the genetics to regulate his internal temperature, though on a smaller scale than Shouto. We know that Phospor works with Shouto's heart as a catalyst

That brings balance to both halves of his quirk.

And the thing is, Dabi doesn't have an ice quirk (and likely won't pull one out of his ass now of all times), but he's a chimera too. He has an ice constitution and a fire quirk. His body is already engineered for the cold. Who's to say he cannot circulate chilled blood to counter his internal heat as well?

I think that's how he survived Sekoto Peak, and how he remained alive even after sustaining expansive burns all over his body a second time. Horikoshi went extra out of the way to point out the oddity that was his survival, so there's definitely something more to it than just... A spite strong enough to best death.

I think that Touya, too, has a trigger to cool himself down, but neither Touya nor Enji consciously realized it yet.

Quirks can evolve, if the right "catalyst" triggers a change in their inner workings.

A catalyst like... Touya's crazy strong will, for example. A will so strong not even AFO could bend it. After burning up at Sekoto Hill, we see Touya chant "I don't want to die. I don't want to die, " thinking of how he's yet to show his dad what he's really worth. I guess what I'm saying is: if quirks can get "liberated" and unlock a next level under the right circumstances, like an extremely stressful situation, then what best stressor than burning yourself alive and finding out in a panic that you cannot turn off the heat? Being on the brink of death has already worked as a catalyst twice now: think of Tomura and Toga in mva and the power ups they unlocked as a result. It wouldn't be too farfetched if Touya, too, got a quirk awakening in such a circumstance.

I can see this fitting into the Todofam narratives for one major reason.

Enji was really quick to discard Touya as a failure. I have a different post dissecting this but it happened over the course of a handful of months. Touya manifested his quirk around 4, and had already been replaced months before his 5th birthday.

Enji's rushed judgement makes sense when you consider that what he was after was a heir that could counter the overwhelming heat that builds up within his body, thus nullifying the flaw that Enji felt was responsible for never being strong enough to beat All Might.

In light of that, it's obvious that dissuading Touya from using his quirk was not the real reason Enji kept having children. That was just an excuse. It's Enji himself that admits the real reason: Touya will never be the one to surpass All Might, because Touya not only inherited Enji's overheating, but he also reaches an internal boiling boint much sooner than Enji.

Adding to that, Enji was pigheaded about besting All Might through brute force, and as such, he only ever taught Touya how to turn up the heat:

So it stands to reason that with this type of training, even if Touya did have the genetics to cool down his internal temperature, he simply wouldn't know how to.

I think there's a chance that by the end of the series, Horikoshi will turn the narrative that Touya was a doomed failure on its head, and show us that it was less adverse fate and more arbitrary choices that ruined Touya's bright future. This idea has already been introduced by chapters 351 and 352, with Shouto's stress on choosing your path and Dabi's stubborn belief that you can't change the tracks of your life once they're set for you.

Building off of that, if it turned out that Touya had the "right" potential to become "a masterpiece", then it doubles down on the idea that it's Enji's choice to discard him so easily that doomed his son to this much suffering, and not some inherent "flaw" that Touya has no control over. It's not a predetermined fate but a choice, and choices can be corrected.

This would work in favour of both Dabi and Enji's character arcs: it would prove Dabi wrong about predetermination, it would give him a way to eventual recovery, and it would teach Enji that forcing his kids to do things his way isn't necessarily what works best for them. In fact, it almost certainly never is. Shouto reached peak self actualization when he explored his way of doing things, independently of his father; Touya never had that chance. Enji could've realized that Touya had the ability to cool himself down after all, if only he'd let his eldest train in a way that wasn't an exact replica of his own moves. If only he didn't focus so hard on turning up the heat.

So. I think we might be on the way to discovering the true extent of Dabi's quirk. Chapter 353 shows a glow appear on Dabi's chest where Shouto's Phospor hit. It's not over Dabi's heart, but it's the middle of his chest, just like how it was for Shouto; it could be symbolic to the two halves of his own quirk.

Or maybe I'm reading too much into this and it's just an addendum of Shouto's move, lol. Maybe Shouto's attack has some medical properties like everyone's been speculating lately, and it triggered some tissue regeneration in his brother. That's a possibility! I'm not completely discarding the regen route, but if that's what's happening, I don't think the source is necessarily Shouto. If it was, then that still wouldn't explain how Touya survived Sekoto Peak and the years after. He didn't have his little brother, then. No, I think, and I might be completely off base of course, that Touya always had this dormant side of his quirk inside of him, but he never actually used it intentionally, or was even aware that he did possess it.

It doesn't even have to be the ability to cool himself down; I'm leaning towards that because it's the only thing that explains his survival. But it might just be that his chimera genes give him the chance to make fire that doesn't burn him, just like his little brother. If that's the case, then one way to recovery for him could be Shouto teaching him how to summon it consciously. I would greatly prefer this to the route of Touya never using his quirk again "for his own good." That never sat right with me — it just seems another way to reinforce the abuse he suffered as a kid, and imho it negates the idea that society was wrong to force him into giving up. And while I'm a fan of Dabi receiving treatment for his injuries, I also think the regen route doesn't provide a long term solution for the problem that his fire burns him. It would only work like a safety net in case he exceeds his body's limits again. He'd still need to either give up on using his quirk, or get support gear and limit its use as much as possible. But Horikoshi never struck me as the type to say "hurting yourself is fine so long as you can get healed afterwards." Look at Deku!

On the other hand, if Dabi learned a way to make fire that doesn't involve self-harm, he could be free to explore his identity the way Shouto was able to, and find worth in himself and his quirk that isn't attached to his father's legacy. That's what I'd like to see, personally, so that's my prediction

That's not to say I think it will 100% happen! I just think it would be really neat if it did

#Bnha #Bnha spoilers #Bnha 353 #Dabi #My post #Meta:dabi

[tired-biscuit]

Forgiveness

This is part two to Crush.

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!] modern au, age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex, slight size kink, oral [f!receiving], risk of getting caught, slight angst. dilf!kiba.

Word count: 7.6k

YOU have trouble focusing.

As you stare into the screen of Jun’s laptop with somewhat of an absent mind, you find it difficult to follow along and understand the plot of the popular Netflix series your best friend has decided to put on for the two of you on the particularly lazy evening you’re once again wasting away at her house.

The room isn’t completely dark, but dusk still falls rapidly through the big, glass-panelled windows. The space is filled with so much clutter that it’s dangerously reaching the brink of normalcy; throwing shadows over the countless band posters of classic rock musicians and their respective vinyl records to adorn the walls. 

Ever since you’ve gotten to know her better back in your senior year, you’ve come to learn that Jun has been a particularly big fan of the genre, having grown up being surrounded by it. Her - self-proclaimed amazing - taste in music is something she shares with her father.

And as for you, well… You tend to share other things with him.

“Ugh… Eddie is so hot, am I right?”

Jun’s sigh is dreamy as it brushes your cheek and pulls you out of your thoughts from the way it abruptly breaks the comfortable quiet. You force yourself to let out a grunt of somewhat disinterested approval at the Munson character as you turn your head to the side, so that you can look at her better.

Jun Inuzuka is good-looking in her own peculiar, brash ways. Her skin is like molten caramel: tan and sun-kissed, despite that she so far hasn’t gotten the chance to go to the beach this summer. Freckles adorn the bridge of her button nose and dust the apples of her red cheeks that are framed by wild, shoulder-length hair that is nearly the exact same shade of chestnut as that of her father’s. It has streaks of red weaved in-between the pretty brown when the sun hits it just right, and is so thick that she has to tie it up during hot summer months, in fear that she'll risk getting heatstroke otherwise.

But since the room is fairly cool from the fan that’s running on the highest setting in the corner of her bedroom, Jun has allowed herself the rare pleasure of letting her hair down. The curls tickle your shoulder as you both lie in her bed; with your legs tightly intertwined and bodies smushed together whilst your fight to take as much space on the single pillow she owns ensues with every minute you spend watching the episode.

Staring at her like this, you see that Jun is definitely Kiba’s kid. Both appearance-wise and with the impulsive, bold personality - there is no mistaking that she is the spitting image of her father, albeit one that is just the tiniest fraction mellower. After all, her facial features are rounder and softer around the edges than his own are, and her eyes aren’t nearly as ferocious, which you now know fairly well, having seen both pairs up-close. 

On the other hand, Jun also tends to be a little bit less pushy and firm with every year she becomes older, but the fire of hot-headedness her father’s genes had sparked within her the moment she was old enough to fathom who she was, still burns and courses her veins as strong as ever underneath that signature golden complexion.

“So, what’d you do while I was at my mom’s place?”

The sudden question makes cold sweat rush over your entire body. In a meek attempt of hiding the way your skin is pulling taught over your now-bewildered face, you quickly avert your gaze back towards the laptop again. “Nothing much… Just, uh… Kind of chilled back at home.”

“I heard that you didn’t really feel like partying,” she drawls boredly, absent-mindedly playing with the string of her gym shorts. “‘Cause Ren said he barely saw you around the usual spots. And apparently you told him no, whenever he asked to go clubbing.”

“I was just busy,” you mumble, brows knitting tightly together for a split of a second before you force yourself to smooth them back up, “doin’ my own thing, and all that...” Doing your dad, for instance.

“Yeah, I get that.” She chuckles now, twirling the string around her index finger. “Missed me far too much to be partying your mind out, huh?”

“Yeah…” All you can do is grin as sweetly as you’re able and hope for the best as you nuzzle your cheek into her shoulder to hide yourself from her vision. You feel bad for lying to your best friend through your teeth like this, but what are you supposed to do? Admit that you’re having an affair with her goddamn father?

To be fair, it isn’t exactly an affair, since he isn’t married anymore, but still… He’s a line you definitely shouldn’t have crossed that drunken night you’ve spent at the same house you're currently in. She’d be upset if she found out that you had betrayed her trust in such a terrible, gruesome way. Even worse: that you’ve been continuing to do so, without any sign of stopping as well.

You truly are a terrible friend.

The thought makes your stomach twist with uncomfortable guilt. “I’m just gonna go get something to drink real quick, okay?”

Jun’s eyes are still glued to the laptop as she watches the preppy cheerleader slam against the ceiling just as her bones begin to crack. She gives you a dismissive nod. “Yeah, sure. Want me to pause?”

“No, no, it’s fine. You can fill me in later.” You sigh, picking yourself up from the bed before you dust off your skirt from imaginary dust to straighten it better. “Do you need anything?”

Jun flicks a curious glance at you as you bend over to fix your white thigh highs back into place. Two faint snapping noises resonate throughout the room as your fingers slip from underneath the upper bands that are now biting into your thighs and causing them to pinch the plush flesh slightly. 

She flicks her eyes back towards her newly-discovered favourite character in Stranger Things. “Nah.”

You’re already making your way towards the door, your heart heavy inside your chest as you murmur: “All right.”

And so, you go.

—

Kiba lets out a small gasp of startlement at the sudden pair of arms to wrap around his waist all of a sudden.

“Woah, easy! Don't wanna burn myself on the goddamn stove, hah.” Standing in front of it, the forty-one-year-old quickly inspects the pot of boiling water before he turns his head over his shoulder to look down at the mystery person who’s hugging him so fervently.

A small chuckle slips past his lips at the sight of the pouty expression you display when you look up at him. Your bottom lip is jutting out in childish annoyance. It makes the amber within his golden eyes shimmer with something mischievous. “Everything okay, kiddo? You seem kind of down.”

“Can you not call me that, please?” A small grunt of disapproval leaves your mouth before it muffles out from the way you hide your face into his light grey t-shirt. He smells good and sharply fresh; like he’s just showered. You can’t help but inhale the earthy, musky scent as deep as you can. 

It nearly tastes sweet as it fills up your throat and lungs. Like you’ve been chewing on wood and moss - inhaling the pure essence of a great forest. It’s so masculine that it turns your brain fuzzy. Simply intoxicating.

“What,” Kiba drawls with a tricksy grin, “kiddo?”

“Yes,” you grumble further as your hands tighten their hold around his waist. It’s hard to keep them from slipping underneath the light cotton so that you can freely roam his toned abs, but you somehow manage to do it. You suppose that he can tell from the way he snorts quietly.

“What’s wrong with kiddo?” he asks you now.

You roll your eyes, despite that he can’t see it. “It just makes me feel incompetent. Kind of immature.”

Your heart begins to race and jump around your ribcage when he loosens up your hold around him just enough that he can turn to see you better. Your face meets his chest for a brief moment with the movement; chin resting against the middle of his torso before his arms are wrapping around your middle and his big hands find purchase on your hips.

Kiba lifts you up swiftly, placing you to sit on top of the marble counter with zero effort whatsoever, right next to the stove. It’s a struggle not to melt into a puddle of flustered, confused feelings at the way he fits so nicely between your legs; at how close he is to you that you can smell the spearmint chewing gum on his breath.

He looks you in the eye as he says, “I never said you were incompetent.”

Your sigh is somewhat shaky because of the close proximity as you reply with a bashful mumble: “I know you didn’t.”

“Besides,” he says as he gives you a light shrug of shoulders, “you can cook a really mean plate of spaghetti.”

The deadpan expression that falls upon your face is comically amusing. “What's pasta got anything to do with this?”

“Ah, darlin',” he grins real big, flicking the tip of your nose with a calloused finger, “it makes you less incompetent, you see.”

Your brows shoot up in faux disbelief. “I thought you just said I wasn’t incompetent at all.”

Kiba pauses for a moment. “Well… I did, yeah. But-”

“You can’t get any less incompetent than zero, Kiba.”

“Can we please stop saying incompetent, already? Damn.” The small ‘v’ that appears in-between his dark brows makes you want to giggle from how fussy he seems to look in that exact moment. You’ve clearly provoked and irked a nerve because now he sighs as you allow yourself a chuckle, “You’re a piece of work, you know that? Too smart for your own good. Gonna bite ya in the ass one day, you'll see.”

“You don’t seem to mind me being a piece of work when I’m sucking your dick,” you retaliate with a feline-like smirk.

“That’s because you’re quiet during it,” he bites back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards faintly at the jabs you keep throwing back and forth at each other.

“Well, at least I’m quiet,” you sigh dramatically, shrugging as if you don't have a care in the world, when in reality you have many. “Unlike your moaning self.”

Kiba shakes his head with a hushed laugh as he leans in and presses his forehead against your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of his palm as he places it on top of your thigh; no nudge of a ring present as his fingers trace the band of one of your thigh highs.

It’s become a routine of sorts. Throughout the entirety of last week - which you’ve spent at his house, while Jun has spent it at her mother’s - you’ve been doing nothing but exchanging witty comebacks, fucking like animals and slowly, albeit surely, catching feelings for each other.

You’re falling in love with your best friend’s father. A man that’s twice your age, and could as well be your own dad. How pitiful.

At least this one takes you out for ice cream and tells you you're pretty.

“I like these socks on you,” he mumbles against your neck after a brief moment of comforting silence.

Your fingers are eager to stroke his tousled hair. It’s still damp at the nape from the shower. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” he replies tiredly, “though I think they made me stare for a little too long earlier.”

“You gotta fix that, you know,” you fuss as you feel his lips latch to your throat hungrily, “Jun might get suspicious if you keep ogling at me like that.”

“I know, I know.” He grunts as his fingers dig into the fat of your thigh; right at the spot where the white cotton is pinching it inwards. You’re hardly able to suppress a whine at how harshly he manhandles you now. He's certainly no gentleman, but you like it nonetheless. “But I’ve missed you! It’s been, what… Four days since the kid came back? And you barely swing by anymore… I don't like not having you in my bed anymore.”

“Don’t be silly.” Your exhale is one of exasperation. “You know darn well that I can’t hang out with you while Jun’s around.”

“Yeah,” he says, despite the fact that he pouts as he grazes your pulse point with his teeth, “but that doesn’t mean that it makes me feel any better.”

“Please stop being jealous of your own daughter,” you scold him gently, stifling back a little giggle, “you’re forty-one years old.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles, kissing up your jaw. “Are you staying over tonight?”

“If I am,” you say as your fingers dig into his hair and tug at the roots, “I’ll be sleeping in Jun’s bed, not yours.”

Kiba releases a small groan at the lewd touch as your manicured nails trace his scalp in loving brushes. It’s a sound you haven’t heard in the four days since his daughter has come back home from her mother’s. It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t miss it. It only urges you to repeat the action.

He grows needier now as his hand squeezes your thigh again, the tips of his fingers just barely slipping underneath the hem of your pretty skirt. Your legs are tightly wrapped around his waist as you push yourself towards the edge of the counter so that you can feel him better. It’s just a little comfort. Both of you need it.

You’ve promised yourself that you weren’t going to allow things to escalate before you’ve even set foot inside the kitchen, and yet the way his breath hitches in the back of his throat when the bulge in his sweatpants grazes your clothed pussy, dulls out the firmness of your determination in mere seconds. 

He’s already rock hard underneath the thick cotton; nudging your sopping entrance and nearly grinding himself against you. Everything is quick-paced and rushed from the excitement you're both buzzing with. The thrill and the tension to fill the room are making you suffocate on your own inhales.

“Kiba,” you whisper, heart hammering when his hands find your hips, “we shouldn’t-”

“Just a lil’ bit, sweetheart,” he mumbles dazedly in answer, spreading open-mouthed kisses across your entire jawline. You can hear how quickly he’s panting, now. “Haven’t had you in four days… Kept thinkin’ ‘bout you during work. Late at night, too.”

“That’s nice and all, but you still can’t fuck me on the kitchen counter, while your daughter is watching Netflix upstairs! Besides, I’ve already been gone for way longer than I should have.” You try to push him away, but he won’t budge. His big hand wraps around your smaller one before he moves it and places it onto his shoulder. Your eyes are practically glazed over with a thick film of lust as you watch him press a tender kiss to your knuckles.

Kiba turns to look at you expectantly as soon as he finishes placing the chivalrous affection on your skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s waiting for you to give him a reward - the absolute bastard.

“Your pasta is gonna be overcooked,” you try to upset him lamely.

“It’s not as good as yours, anyway,” he shoots back in an instant. You can see him turn off the stove. He's clearly made his decision on what's more important.

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to ignore the way his fingers are stroking your hips the entire time. He nearly has to give you the puppy eyes before you’re rolling your own at him, ignoring the low snicker of triumph he lets out as soon as you drawl an absolutely fed-up: “Oh, fine.”

The lewd excitement to ghost over his sharp features makes you narrow your eyes at him. He’s nearly exclaiming a childish ‘Yay!’ as he slips underneath your skirt and tugs your panties down your legs when you lift your hips slightly to help him out.

He fingers the maroon lace as he places a soft kiss to your calf and stands up to his full height again. “Can I keep these, too? Red is my favourite colour.”

“I’m surprised you actually asked this time,” you bite back, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when his other hand slips underneath your skirt once more. You watch as he stuffs your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants, despite that you’ve never fully agreed to him taking a second pair. 

You’ve never asked him about what he does with them. Honestly, some part of you doesn’t even want to know.

The thought is quickly whisked away from how his thick fingers trace your drenched hole now; making it tighten around the tip of his digit as soon as he prods at it to test how wet you are. The mewl you let out in response to the touch is kittenish, even though your hand is wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to push him away. 

“What,” he asks stupidly, eyes still glued to your glistening cunt. He doubts he’ll ever get over how young pussy feels like. How adorably puffy it looks; especially wrapped around a cock. His cock, specifically.

You frown from how mesmerized he seems to be. “We don’t have time for foreplay.”

This, however, does make him look up at you. You can see the worried furrow of his brow as he licks his lips. “But, it’ll hurt if I don’t-”

“It’ll hurt either way,” you retaliate, attempting to cool down the heat that sears your face, “to my misfortune, I’ve gotten myself a man who’s cursed with a monster cock.”

He muses as he fondles the subject of the matter right over his sweatpants, the action seemingly prideful. In reality, he’s trying to steady himself from nearly just busting a nut just from the way you’ve called him yours. “You say that like you don’t like it.”

“It tries to crawl up my throat whenever you fuck me and it makes my pussy hurt,” you oblige in stroking his ego further, the corners of your lips curling upwards, “what is there to like about that?”

“Well, if you hate it so much,” he mutters lowly, the tone dark and raspy as he pushes the front waistband of his sweatpants and black boxer briefs lower in one go to free himself, “then wanna tell me why are you even here?”

Kiba can see how big your pupils turn at the sight of his fat cock. How you smile and eagerly shimmy towards the edge of the counter at the thick veins and throbbing girth, as well as the way pre-cum is already leaking out of the tip when he strokes it once with his rough palm. Your short, pleated skirt is already hiked up to your waist. All signs seem to point to green from your end.

He’s hot and bothered from missing you so much, and you’re nearly pushing him into you with the help of your legs, which you still have safely wrapped around his waist. Kiba still isn’t entirely sure if the lack of foreplay is a good idea, but you seem to be fucking buzzing with immoral impatience. Besides what’s going to become of your sweet pussy, he’s also worried that you might just throw a hissy fit if he doesn’t slam you soon.

“Kiba,” you warn as if you’re able to read his mind.

“On it! Christ… Needy little girl.” The poor man nearly growls at the way your head tips back gently when he rubs the sensitive tip along your heat and covers it in gooey slick. The way he hooks it to your clit makes your insides twist from delight.

“I thought you liked how eager I am to get it, daddy,” you tease him with the title, tracing the tip of your tongue along your front teeth. However, the pearly whites are quick to sink into the inside of your cheek as soon as he pushes the first inch inside you.

The stretch burns hot from lack of stimulation, exactly how he’s warned you it would. You fight back a prolonged whine as his breathing turns shallow from the wet warmth to wrap around him.

He looks up; the warm amber shining wicked inside those honey irises of his. “I told you so.”

“Just shut up and fuck me already, Mr. Inuzuka,” you snarl at him angrily. “I’ve gotta get back to watching Stranger Things with your daughter before she starts wondering where the fuck I am.”

He chuckles as he places your hand on his shoulder once more, “Then make sure to hold on tight, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a rough ride.”

Kiba’s words ring true.

The moment your fingers find hold on his defined shoulder, they’re already clawing at the thin t-shirt from how roughly he sheathes himself inside you right to the hilt. Your walls are clenching and refusing to let him in no matter how wet you are, but he insists on making space inside the narrow capacity. Outright forces it to happen.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts, panting quietly, “I’ve missed you so much, my sweet girl.”

“Missed daddy, t-too…! Ugh…!” Your eyes are nearly crossing from the pain and how he keeps throbbing inside your lower belly. “You-... Fuck, you gotta move, Kiba. ‘s too much.”

“Right, yeah,” he mutters, scrambling to get his thoughts back in order. That first, initial push was so good that it’s making him feel light-headed in a way, but it’s the way he watches his cock disappear inside your cute cunt that really takes the cake. Your pussy is practically sucking him in. Milking him already. “Gonna… Mm, gonna start movin’ now, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good.”

“You better,” you say, a faint squeak bubbling up your throat when he pulls back and slams right back in to bottom out within you for a second time, “and you better do it quick… Jun’s gonna-... Nnh, god.”

His eyes are so glazed over that they remind you of maple syrup as you look up at him from underneath your lashes. He’s staring at the spot you connect, face red and dazed, lips parting in a series of unsteady inhales and exhales. His broad chest is heaving from how much air he’s trying to bring into his lungs.

Kiba can’t stop looking at how his dick glimmers with your sweet arousal. How the milky slick drips onto the fucking counter as he starts to thrust; nice and deep. It feels like he’s stuck in a wet dream, even though he hasn't had one of those for about thirty years.

You’re still holding onto his shoulder for dear life; nearly tearing apart the fabric of his t-shirt with your fingernails as he stretches you out and bullies your womb. He can see how badly you’re trying to fight back the moans; to swallow down the breathless curses and grunts that are attempting to erupt from your mouth every time he swings. It’s almost angelic in a way.

Your velvety walls are beginning to clench around him with the laggard ministrations he’s giving you. His palm slams flat against the counter right next to you; bicep flexing as he leans in and keeps rutting his hips nice and slow into you over and over again. It’s enough to make your toes curl. To make you grit your teeth and clench your jaw as the first waves of an upcoming orgasm start to tremble over you.

“You gonna cum already,” he taunts you with a lopsided smirk, “I’ve barely put it in, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you bite out, glaring at him and at the way he pulls back one band of your thigh highs and makes it snap so harshly that the plush flesh jiggles right afterwards.

“Ow.” You pout. “Kiba…”

Kiba pauses for a second at the softly hurt expression you portray, now. Something snaps within him, making his heart swell up as he looks down at you with warm eyes; at the way your body writhes on the counter from the sheer pleasure he’s giving you. He's not sure if you want it quick and rough, or a bit more intimate this time around. “Do you-… Do you wanna be my honey?”

Your gaze turns even more doe-eyed. You can’t believe the nerve of him. Is he really asking you such a thing whilst he’s balls deep inside you? What the fuck! “Are you serious right now? Fuck-…! Be gentle!”

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles bashfully, easing the fervour of his thrusting, “I just get really into it when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Sweat is starting to coat your brow from how he’s straining your limits. It still hurts whenever he slams in, but the pain is good. It makes you feel alive. Present.

“Spread wide apart and takin’ my cock,” he says as he leans in to press a kiss onto your sweet mouth. He chuckles at how quickly you angle your head to kiss him better and tangle your tongue with his own. 

Your hand rests on the crook of his neck. You can feel how riddled his skin is with salt right underneath the tips of your fingers. Gods, he looks so delicious that you want to lick him all over. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Nothing, I just-...” He snickers again, shaking his head lightly with a sigh, “I should take you with me to work sometime… Make my co-workers jealous.” Ah, there it is: the arrogance you’re familiar with.

“It’d be like I’m a trophy wife of yours, kind of, huh?” Your grin is going to be the death of him. What a little brat you are.

“Yeah,” he mumbles quietly, staring into your eyes with a look you haven’t seen him give you before, “my lil’ trophy wife.”

You feel like there’s more to his tone and look than meets the eye, but resist the urge of asking him about it. Instead, you just push him towards you and kiss him so hard that both of your mouths are beginning to hurt from the fever to resonate within each kiss.

It calms down his thoughts and makes his pace and rhythm turn somewhat natural as you caress his face and stroke your palms over the stubble on his cheeks. It’s as if he knows exactly what you both need.

“Oh, daddy,” you whine quietly, eyes rolling upwards into the ceiling of the kitchen, “s'good…!”

“Yeah,” Kiba whispers, “good?”

“Always so-... So good, my lovely Kiba.”

You speak the words so softly; so gently, as if you - yourself, aren’t aware that you’ve spoken them. Like you’re a little fawn he’s just stumbled upon in the middle of a clearing of pretty flowers: resting its delicate head on top of his heavy, grubby boots. And even though he’s supposed to be the big bad wolf, you don’t seem to be frightened at all by his sharp teeth and claws.

“Sweetheart…” Kiba doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve all of this; to be worthy of such a blessing that keeps on tugging on his heartstrings, but he needs to make it stay. You make him happy and glow from within. He simply needs to cling onto that light from the sheer reason of how good it’s making him feel; of how hard he’s fighting tooth and nail to make it stay just as bright in return. “Do you maybe wanna-”

A voice resonates from upstairs all of a sudden, accompanied with a thud of a door and equally as hurried footsteps: “Daaad!”

Well, crap.

The next few seconds are a blur. All Kiba can remember is the startled little whimper you voice before he harshly pulls out of you and practically jams his still rock hard cock back inside his sweatpants. The way you part produces the lewdest sound imaginable as you scramble on top of the counter to cover yourself with your skirt. 

The new strain his own clothes provide practically hurts. Kiba feels like he’s going to burst underneath the cotton.

“Shh, shh, shh. Shit, don’t cry, hey, shh,” he tries to soothe you hurriedly as you grimace and quietly whine again, but it’s too late. Before you can even fully push away from each other and before you can even hop off the counter and wipe the sudden tears from your heated cheeks; Jun is right there in the kitchen with you.

“Yo, dad. Have you seen y/n anywhere? She’s been gone for a-...” The brunette lifts her gaze from her phone just as you’re about to unhook your legs from her father’s waist. You can see how she freezes now. How she attempts to process the sight of you sitting on the kitchen counter, with her father positioned in-between your legs.

Her mouth is still open as she slowly utters, “A… A while.”

You’re all frozen, like you’ve just fucking sprouted roots underneath the soles of your goddamn feet as you keep staring at each other completely wide-eyed. The silence is deafening. You’re just about ready to kill yourself. To kill him. And her. To spare all three of you the dread that’s currently seeping its way into all of your guts.

Kiba is the first to spring into action. The way he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand nearly makes you want to cry, because it makes Jun look sick to her stomach. You don’t even feel his touch from how numb you are as he slips from your hold and slowly starts to turn towards his daughter. 

“Hey... Hey, kid.”

His voice sounds weird. Out of breath and slightly high-pitched - just enough to crack mid-sentence and to force him to clear his throat.

You can see your best friend’s eyes flick towards the bit of maroon lace that’s peeking out of his pocket. The way Jun takes a cautious step back makes him make a face you’ve never seen before. He’s literally cringing like he’s in pain, just like she is beginning to. 

“What the fuck,” is all Jun lets out before she looks over his shoulder to look at you. You can’t even look her in the eye. The shame is too strong as you slowly slide off the counter with a petrified little bounce.

“Kiddo, c’mon.” Kiba takes another step towards her to draw attention to himself, instead. She copies him by taking one backwards. “It’s not… It’s not what it looks like. Really.”

“And what do you mean by it, dad?” The piercing sound of the confused, gasp-like laugh that climbs out of her throat makes you both visibly wince.

“Jun,” you finally dare to say, fingers flinching as you intertwine them tightly together in front of yourself, “we-we didn’t…” You can't say it. Can't finish the sentence.

“Are you fucking my dad, y/n?”

The question feels sharp like a blade; outright venomous. It’s like the exact knife you’ve just stabbed into your best friend’s back, and it makes your thoughts sizzle out. You literally feel brain-dead from the stress as you let out an idiotic: “What…?”

“You are, aren’t you,” Jun says, her initially empty stare turning into the most vicious glare you’ve ever seen another human execute, “you’re fucking my… My dad. It’s written all over your face. Both of your faces.”

“Jun,” Kiba is the one to speak her name this time around. He runs a frustrated hand over his face, ridding himself of the salt the lust had invoked earlier. “Lemme explain, okay?”

“Explain? You… You want to explain?”

“Yes. How 'bout we just take a breather, and then we can-”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” The shrill laugh she lets out now is somehow worse than the silence as she finally snaps. “What is there even to explain, old man? How-... How in the flying fuck, are you gonna explain to me that you’re slamming someone, who’s twenty years younger than you? That you’re fucking my best friend? Fucking! My fucking best friend! Oh, my god, you’re old enough to be her father. Are you two insane?! Legitimately insane?”

And with that, Jun is out of the kitchen; running back up the stairs, with her father chasing right behind her. You don’t really feel entirely present in your body as you listen to him shouting at her to 'open the fucking door' of her room, nor the banging of his fist as it nearly shakes the entire house down from how harshly he’s pounding it against the wood.

It feels like an eternity before you slowly drag yourself up the stairs, trying not to pay mind to how intensely your feet are refusing to budge. Before you can even acquire enough courage to stand in front of him, you’re already there, much to your misfortune.

His shouting had died down. How long had it been? An hour? Two?

You can't even remember taking the steps. He seems to be on the verge of tears from how broken his breathing sounds and how glossy his eyes are as you come to a stop right beside him.

“Hey.”

Kiba doesn’t say anything. 

You try placing your hand onto his shoulder, but he flinches back like you’ve just burned his skin off with the touch; like you’ve just set him on fire right through the cotton of his t-shirt. His blatant rejection makes you pull your hand back in an instant. It’s as if he’s disgusted by you: the way he takes this big, wide step away from you to cause some distance.

“Kiba…?” The waver of hurt inside your voice is prominent.

“I think it’s better if you just leave, y/n.” This is the first thing he tells you after the entire ordeal. He looks so fucking lost and defeated - as if he’s not even really there. He can’t even look you in the eyes. Can’t even bring himself to touch you.

What a coward.

“Lea-... Leave?” The little stammer makes his heart tighten, but he keeps his face passive. He can’t afford to show that he cares. Not when his daughter is on the other side of that door.

“Yeah,” Kiba grits out finally like it pains him to say the words, but he says them firmer this time around, “it’s gonna be a long night for me and my kid, so it’s better if you just went home... Get some sleep, ya know? It’s late and you’re probably tired.”

You're choking back tears again. “But my backpack-”

“I’ll swing by to bring it to ya as soon as Jun unlocks the door, okay?”

He’s trying so hard to get rid of you without telling it directly to your face, and you don’t even have to be awfully clever to see it.

The pause you give him is excruciatingly long before you finally nod, head hanging down to hide the tears, despite that he can clearly see them drip onto the carpet. On the bright side, at least you have your phone, some change and keys in the pocket of your jacket downstairs.

On the down side, it also means that there’s nothing keeping you here anymore.

So, you go.

—

Months pass and they’re tough as shit. You don’t hear anything from Jun, nor are you in contact with her father ever since that dreadful night.

Your best friend - well, ex best friend - never replied to the texts you’ve sent her, nor did she answer your calls. After the third week of constantly spamming her inbox, you finally gave up trying to reach her. She never bothered either. In a way, you’ve expected it.

As for her father: he had swung by your apartment at nearly half past one in the morning that night, exactly like he’d promised he would, whilst looking completely stone-faced and slightly pale. 

Barely a few words were exchanged before he told you that it’d be better if you broke off whatever had managed to weave itself between you - that that dreadful, morally-wrong, disgusting thing needed to go. That it was better to forget about it, and just pretend like it had never even happened at all.

Before you could have even opened your mouth to give him an answer, he was already turning away, making his way down the staircase with stiff, long footsteps, and never once glancing back to look at you.

Standing by your door, holding the backpack he had just tossed into your cold hands and attempting to collect the million little pieces of your broken heart; you’ve come to realize that in a way, you’ve expected that to happen, too.

And because of it, it’s so much harder to act normal when you stumble into him in the local grocery store nearly half a year later.

You try to do as he had told you all those months ago. Try to hang your head low and pass by him like nothing ever happened at all, but it’s him, who extends his arm and rests his hand on the shelf beside you, so that he blocks your path. Him, who stops you from walking away, exactly like he should have done the first time. Him, who seems to be ready to initiate something again.

Seconds pass as the silence between you fills with chatter of other customers and the steady beeping noise that comes from one of the busy cashier stations. Truth be told, you are beginning to feel nauseous.

“Hey.” It’s all that he says. After six sucky months: Hey.

“Evening, Mr. Inuzuka.”

You can’t look him in the eye as you inwardly cringe at how formal and small you sound. The best you can do is his chest. The winter jacket he’s wearing looks thick and is dark grey in colour, but definitely does not look like it’d be a part of his police uniform. It seems that he’s not on the job. Just your luck.

You watch as his fingers tap against the shelf. The same fingers that had been in your mouth; inside your fucking cunt. The same fingers that had stroked your cheek and booped the tip of your nose. “How have you been?”

“Huh?” Your eyes are nearly ready to pop out of their sockets. “Sorry, what?”

Kiba chuckles awkwardly. “I asked how you’ve been?”

“Uh,” you just can’t stop blinking profusely - what the fuck, “I’ve-... I’ve been doin’ okay, Sir.”

“Nice.” He sounds like a fucking android.

“Yeah,” you say thickly. You aren’t any better.

Silence. “How’s college been treating ya?”

You offer a light shrug. “Eh… Same old, same old. I’m only here for the winter holidays, since my brother is in town as well.”

“Ah, fun.” He’s smiling down at you faintly, despite that you aren't brave enough to see it.

“Yeah.” Every second of silence seems to become an aeon of its own. Until: “Hey, uh… What about… What about Jun? Is she home for the winter holidays?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kiba says, and now his voice seems to be just a little bit tenser; a little bit more honed than it was before. “The kid’s been, uh… She’s been staying with her mother as of late.”

For half a fucking year?

“Oh.” You force yourself to look at him now. To make eye contact. “I see.” 

“Yep.” The way he pops the ‘p’ is so childish and animated. So stupid. “Been thinkin' about getting a dog… To make the place feel less lonely.”

“Good idea.”

“You think so?” Why does he even ask for your opinion?

“Mhmm... You look like you'd be a dog person.” And why do you offer it, nonetheless?

You stare at each other, studying every facial feature the other owns. Dressed in big, bulky winter clothes; he seems even bigger than you remember him being. You try to fight the way it makes your mouth dry. The way it makes you yearn to unzip that jacket and just hide underneath it as he holds you close and conceals you from the big, bad world.

You can nearly bring back his scent to memory, even. Nearly taste the gloomy forest on the tip of your tongue and experience it filling up your lungs.

“Well,” you mumble at long last, holding your basket closer to your middle like a makeshift barrier of sorts, “I should probably get going.”

He doesn’t say anything as he watches you step to the side, shoulders pushing inwards to appear even smaller in your cute little coat and winter hat. The colourful gloves are making him want to grin so broadly that his face would start to hurt.

“Nice seeing you, Mr. Inuzuka.” Wasn’t he your daddy just a few months ago?

“Yeah… You too.” And you his sweet little girl?

Kiba had planned to let you go. To let you walk away after just that same, initial hey that he’s been mentally preparing himself to send you over text for the last two months, had been executed in person instead. To go home and stroke his dick with your panties and the memory of you, like he's some sad, pathetic loser. 

He seriously planned to do it. All of it.

But as he watches your doe-like eyes fall to the ground bashfully, and the way the corners of your lips tremble into that fucking pouty frown, he just can’t stop himself. Can’t stop himself from asking:

“Hey… Do you need a ride, perhaps?”

—

God fucking damn it. You’re back inside his home again.

But you can’t bring yourself to think about the consequences. Not when his head is between your legs just as it had been half a year ago, and his chestnut curls are tickling your inner thighs as he keeps eating you out like a man gone starved. 

You’ve came into his mouth twice already. Slick and drool dribbles down his chin, but all he does is keep swiping his tongue and sucking the very soul out of your body. He’s fucking your tiny hole with his mouth, as if he’ll never get to touch a woman again. It’s making you entirely lose the composure you’ve portrayed back inside the store. Better yet, the stupid thing flew right out the window, and up into the icy night sky the moment he had placed his hand on your thigh back in the car.

And only when you’re whining his name into that same, thick darkness of his bedroom; only when your legs are physically beginning to shake from the overstimulation as you’re begging him that enough is enough, does he finally stop.

However, he only stops for long enough to pick himself up and flip you onto your stomach. Because as soon as your face ends up sinking into the same pillow you’ve slept on half a year ago, and that cute, plump ass of yours pushes high into the air; he’s on you.

You’re nearly crying a high-pitched, pitiful sort of whimper as he fills up every fucking inch of that narrow space between your walls again; nearly losing brain cells at how harshly he starts to pound into you - nice and slow and fucking hard. 

His hand finds your own on top of the crumpled, sweat-soaked bed sheet. He squeezes it so intensely that your knuckles are ready to crack from the tenacious grip. It’s as if he’s making sure that you��re really there - moaning and cussing profanities underneath him.

He’s worse than an animal. And you’re barely keeping yourself together from how fast he’s tearing you apart. He just cares for you so much and this is his own peculiar way of showing it.

Neither of you says anything. You just let your bodies speak for themselves as you moan, and grunt, and groan, and pant. As you change so many positions that every inch of your skin is drowning in sweat and every muscle is hurting from being so stretched out and pulled taut.

And as you’re cumming for a third time, completely exhausted and absolutely demolished; watching him as he palms his dick in quick, fast-paced strokes of hand just above your stomach, you smile up at him - all bright and warm.

And it makes him want to fucking burst from joy.

Before you know it, his nose crinkles as he lets out that finishing, guttural groan of absolute, devoted pleasure just a moment before his eyes roll back in the same lazy manner his head tips backwards. And as he cums all over your belly, adorning you with his seed, only then do you realize what you’ve done.

Again.

He falls on top of you, pressing his weight against you and smearing the thick ropes of cum in-between your middles. You can hear him panting, can see his broad shoulders rise and fall as you run your fingers through his hair gently. It’s completely damp from sweat.

The silence between you is so heavy, but the tension eases when you feel him kissing up your throat carefully. Staring into the ceiling of his bedroom, counting your breaths before messing up and starting all over again; you start to wonder if Jun will ever forgive you.

Knowing her for so long; you doubt she will.

“Please don’t go,” Kiba’s whisper fills your ear as his hand finds your cheek, “I’m so sorry. I made a mistake all those months ago.”

But at least her father came around.

#kiba x reader #kiba #kiba inuzuka #kiba x you #kiba x y/n #kiba smut #naruto smut