#AND THE SHARP SPIRALS!! I LOVE THE SHARP SPIRALS. I LOVE DRAWING HIS HAIR JUST IN GENERAL... I JUS LOVE DRAWIN WIWI...

[missrosegold]

I've got a blood trail red in the blue

Synopsis: Vampire!AU You moved to the quiet, costal town to escape from your ex, only to find yourself entangled with a man with fiery blue eyes, and a grin that’s slightly too sharp.

He may or may not be an immortal gang leader to a bunch of other blood-sucking degenerates, but you’ll worry about that later.

Word count: 20k

Pairing: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of murder, Blood and gore, Smut, Mentioned past toxic relationships, Smoking, Smut and additional warnings listed below so Minors or Ageless blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Take Me To The Sun - D4VD + The Summoning (the ending. if you know, you know) - Sleep Token

For @kimkaelyn Thank you for all of the encouragement you’ve shown me when I needed it most – this one’s for you. Also, thank you for making this beautiful banner for me!! It looks so good!!

Title is from The Summoning by Sleep Token

Inspired by The Lost boys

Happy Birthday Dabi - I'm so pleased I was able to finish this for his birthday. He deserves all good things.

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works to my A03 account!

Tagging: @vambirezz @dabisqueen @little-red-insomniac @sunaraii @touyasprettydoll @touyas-back-lover @cloudsz04 @faetheral @impulsivethoughtsat2am @whitemochabunnie

You sigh loudly as you move the last box of your things into your new bedroom.

Dusting off your hands, you stand up and look around the small room, giving it an approving once over, before heading out into the living room to continue putting the rest of your things away in your new apartment.

Opting to take a quick break, you crack open the sliding glass doors leading out onto your small patio and step outside into the evening air. Closing your eyes, you breathe in the balmy, salt laced air, as a cool breeze combs through your hair, sending pleasant chills down your spine. You stay like that for a moment, before the sound of seagulls cawing overhead draws your attention to the surrounding view.

The sight of the small costal town spread out before your balcony greets you, as you look outward. You’d just moved to the town of Ashikita a few days ago, leaving your life in the busy city of Tokyo behind you. You scowl even thinking about the place.

You’d loved your life in Tokyo. It was the person you shared your life with there you’d hated.

You purse your lips as your thoughts trail back to your ex-boyfriend, despite your best efforts. He was the sole reason you’d moved all the way out to this small town in the first place. Your relationship had been on a downwards spiral for a while, and had gradually become unhealthier the longer you’d stayed with him. He had become progressively more controlling and manipulative whenever you’d tried to leave your shared apartment for anything else aside for work, and his behavior had only become worse by the day.

Eventually, things came to a boiling point when he decided to try and lock you in the bathroom when you’d told him that you were going out to see a friend, and that had been your breaking point. You had packed your things up when he’d left to go to work, and that had been that. You had taken up residence at your parent’s place for a few months while you’d searched for a new apartment and a new job, far away from your ex’s grasp, all the while dodging his incessant calling, before blocking him all together.

You had settled in Ashikita, a small costal town in Kyushu, known for its attractive beaches and coastlines. It was also quiet during the off season, deeming it the perfect place for someone who was trying to escape from the city.

Perfect for someone who didn’t wish to be found.

You allow your gaze to sweep through the sights spread out below your balcony. Your apartment was located near the coastline, and had a nice view of the nearby beach and wooden boardwalk that wrapped around it, much to your inner delight. The twinkling of lights from the few carnival rides you can see on the old wooden platform catches your attention, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you recall old childhood memories of when your parents used to take you to the small country fair that used to come by your hometown in the summer.

You sigh as the multicolored lights gradually become brighter as the sun slowly sinks behind the watery horizon in the distance. Glancing back into your dark apartment, you decided to go down to check out the boardwalk after night falls – not wanting to spend more time in your lonely apartment then necessary.

You slowly slink back inside, and force yourself to continue to unpacking as the outside becomes darker. Once your apartment looks somewhat like your own space, you quickly change into something a little warmer to explore the boardwalk, before making your way out of your apartment.

The boardwalk, as you discover, is only a ten-minute walk away from your building, and you use the time to lightly explore the surrounding area as you make your way towards the beach. The distant crashing of the ocean waves against the shore makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest, and the sounds of the boardwalk rides echoes through the air around you, only adding to your growing excitement.

You make your way onto the old wooden boardwalk and look around at the rides and other various vendors set up on both sides of the platform. You slowly make your way around the brightly lit area with the crowds of other people taking in the sights and sounds like you, before a gentle musical chime accompanied by soft twinkling lights in the coroner of your eye catches your attention.

Turning to your left, you gasp in delight as you find yourself looking at a vintage merry go round. It’s old, older than you by probably several decades, but it’s no less charming than it would’ve been when it was brand new. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on one, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you’re in the short line to buy a ticket.

The teen running the ride looks entirely uninterested as he takes your money before passing you a ticket and waving you on. You slowly make your way around the merry go round, taking in all of the old wooden animals – most of their paint old and dull – before settling on a sleek black horse wearing a blue saddle and bridle.

Not long after choosing your mount, the voice of the teen operating the ride crackles to life over the loud speaker and announces the ride was starting, before the squealing of gears and the hum of hidden electronics signals the start of the ride. You grip the pole as your horse slowly moves up and down, giggling in spite of yourself.

The world spins around you slowly and you lose yourself in the tinny sounds of music blaring out of the ancient speakers scattered around the ride. As you glance out at the boardwalk outside of the merry go round, something catches your attention.

No, not something, someone.

You catch a fleeting glimpse of a tall man dressed in various shades of dark blue and black, standing just outside of the fence blocking off the ride. You have to wait for the ride to do another full circle before you see him again, this time in clearer detail.

He’s standing still as a statue, allowing you to get a better look at him as you come around once again. He’s imposing looking, with his dark attire, save for a white shirt draped loosely around his gangly frame. He’s wearing a long dark blue duster and stitched pants, tucked into black combat boots – a strange choice of clothing considering the warm weather. He’s tall and lean, but you can tell he’s well-built underneath the loose clothes he wears; but his unique choice of clothing isn’t what draws your attention to him.

He is without a doubt, one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

His spiky black hair is as dark as night, and his skin is pale and flawless, drawing attention to his high cheekbones but you notice a slight roundness to his cheeks, giving a gentle softness to his otherwise edgy features.

As you pass him once more, you lock eyes with the intriguing stranger and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are as blue as the surrounding ocean. You don’t think you’ve ever seen any one with eyes that particular shade of blue before.

As you slowly pass him again, he smirks at you, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest involuntarily.

The crackling sounds from the old loudspeakers snap you out of your trance as the teen from before announces the ride was over, and to leave at the nearest exit point. You slide off your horse and make your way to the exit, speed walking back to where you first saw the dark-haired man, only to find he’d seemingly vanished.

You look around the area, confused as to how he could’ve disappeared so fast, only to hear deep laughter echoing a little further down the boardwalk. You turn in the direction of the laughter, only to see the dark-haired man standing in the middle of a group of four other men.

They’re an interesting looking group if you’ve ever seen one: a silvery, white-haired man with vibrant red eyes is standing next to your handsome stranger, snickering at something he said, drawing your attention to the odd amount of scarring under his eyes and around his mouth. Beside him, a man with what you can only assume is box-dyed pink hair, dressed in a black hoodie is leaning slightly on him, listening intently to what he’s saying. On the other side of the ravenette; a taller, slightly older looking blonde-haired man with a long scar running down his forehead, is smoking a cigarette, and beside him, a well-dressed brunette who looked to be about the same age as his scarred companion, is fixing his tie, smiling and nodding with whatever was being discussed.

You smile to yourself as you take in the group. As much as you would’ve liked to talk to the dark-haired man, you didn’t want to interrupt his time with his friends. You turn around, ready to make your leave, only to feel a sudden weight draped around your shoulders. Startled, you whirl around only to find yourself staring up into the deep blue eyes of handsome stranger from before.

Now that he’s up close and personal, you find yourself unable to look away from the unique blue of his eyes. There’s something about them that has you completely entranced, and suddenly, the rest of your surroundings seem to fade away until it’s just you and him. You’re stuck in his orbit and he’s pulling you in simply by looking at you, pinning you in place where you stand. The stranger suddenly blinks, and just like that; he releases you from whatever hold he had you in, abruptly snapping you back to reality.

You don’t even have time to wonder how the hell he was able to catch up to you so fast, before you feel your throat dry up and close up involuntarily as he shoots you a dark smirk.

“’Sup sweetheart?”

His deep voice startles you. It’s smooth, with a slight rasp to it, sounding like he’d smoked recently. He’s warm as well – it’s almost shocking how hot he is, as you feel the heat from his body leaching into your side through the barrier your clothes provide.

You struggle to come up with a response to his greeting, and you can tell by the way his grin grows slightly, he enjoys the effect he has on you. He squeezes your shoulders again, almost teasingly.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me now? I saw you checking me out on the merry go round. Thought you wanted to say hello.”

“You saw that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, fighting to keep the flush you feel creeping up your neck under control, as the man throws his head back and laughs, allowing you to catch sight of clean white teeth that seemed slightly sharper than the average person’s.

“Yeah, I saw. Gotta say, I’m flattered. Haven’t seen a cute thing like you around here for a while. You new here?”

“I… Yeah.” You finally manage to sputter out, “I just moved here.” causing him to grin again.

“Yeah? Where are you from?”

“Tokyo. I got a new job down here. It’s a lot different than the city. Nice though.”

The dark-haired man nodded. “I bet. Why did you move here? This isn’t exactly a major city. I’m surprised you’d want to come here of all places.”

You freeze. Memories of your ex come flooding back, and you chew on your lip as you struggle to figure out what to tell the handsome man. You didn’t want to divulge your shitty dating history to a total stranger, when you yourself were trying to move on. Thankfully, the longer you remain silent, the more the grin seemed to slide off his lips, seemingly understanding what you were thinking, without you having to say a word.

“Someone there made you want to leave?”

You nod soundlessly, causing the man to kiss the back of his teeth.

“Well, that’s a shame. Dunno who the jackass is who made you feel the need to come to a remote shithole like this, but fuck ‘em.”

His brunt comment makes you snort in spite of yourself. You turn in his hold so you’re facing him more directly, offering him a half smile. “I don’t even know your name. What is it?”

The man grins salaciously at you as he stoops down to your level. “Dabi. And you, gorgeous?”

You know there’s not a chance in hell that’s his real name, but you decide not to press him on it. Maybe you’ll ask him about it later, if you ever run into him again.

You tell him your name, and he straightens back up, rolling your name off his tongue, causing you to flush gently under the intensity of his piercing blue gaze, He jerks his thumb back at the group of young men behind him. “The guys and I were just hanging around the boardwalk. Wanna walk with me pretty girl?”

You look over his shoulder to see the other four men staring you down intently. There something about the way they’re looking at you that makes you uneasy, but you can’t place what about it makes you uncomfortable. Instead, you smile up at him and shake your head.

“That’s okay, I don’t want to interrupt your time with your friends. I just wanted to explore a little bit. I’m still unpacking my apartment, so I should probably get back to doing that.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding.” Dabi sends you another grin, teeth glinting like knives in the carnival lights. “I’m sure you’d be better company then those jokers always.”

“I’m good.” You tell him, gently removing his arm from around your shoulders, watching as his smirk falls slightly at your gesture. “Maybe next time, if you’re around.”

“My boys and I live close to the area. I’m sure we’ll meet up at some point.” Dabi takes a step back from you, shoving his hands into his pockets, and sends you another smoldering grin that makes your heart speed up to dangerous levels.

“See you later sweetheart.”

“Bye.” You tell him with a timid wave, watching as he sends you a knowing wink, before turning on his heel and making his way back to his friends, who are already at his throat.

“What the hell was that, Dabi? Thought you were going to bring her back for sure.”

“Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t take her out. You always manage to pull—”

“Shut the hell up you psychos.”

Your roll your eyes as at their conversation as you shift your purse on your shoulder and walk in the opposite direction, away from the interesting group and back towards your apartment. The sound of the roaring ocean overtakes the sounds of the boardwalk as you make the trek back to your apartment alone.

You wake up the next morning to the sound of your phone alarm going off.

You get up with a groan, and slowly begin your morning routine. You shuffle around your apartment as you get ready to start your new office job. You pack your lunch with what meager items you have in your fridge, before heading downstairs to where your car is parked. Hopping in, you quickly plug the coordinates into your car’s nav system, and make the twenty-minute drive to your new office.

 It’s small building, and your job is an entrée level position, but it pays decently well and is still more than enough to cover your living expenses – it’s part of the reason you took the job in the first place, since you’ll have to pay the entirety of your rent by yourself now.

Still, you’d much rather struggle by yourself then crawl back to your ex.

You day is uneventful, and you spend the majority of your day filling out new employee paperwork and getting to know the rest of your new colleagues. They’re nice and seemingly keep mostly to themselves, something you’re not used to after working in Tokyo for the last several years.

Still though, you can’t complain. Honestly, you think it might be good to keep your head down for a while as you get settled in. There’d be plenty of time to get to know the rest of your new coworkers later.

Your day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re pulling into your parking space at your apartment building. Soon enough, you find yourself shutting the door to your apartment with a sigh as you kick your shoes off, before heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

As you make your way back out into your small living room, you’re hit with how bland your new apartment looks in comparison to your old one, and suddenly you don’t want to be in your tiny apartment. You glance out the living room window that’s pointed towards the beach and you know where you want to go.

Grabbing your keys, you find yourself making the short walk to the beach as the sun sinks lower in the sky, casting golden reflections on the water’s choppy service. You spend an hour on the beach, relaxing and breathing in the salty air, before getting up and making your way over to the boardwalk where several food vendors are setting up.

After paying for some cotton candy, you walk around the darkening boardwalk, nibbling mindlessly on your food as you explore several areas you hadn’t been able to look at the night before. As the numerous strings of fairy lights decorating the rides gradually get brighter as the sky grows darker, you decide you head back to your apartment before it get’s too late.

Before you can turn around to make your way back to your home, you feel a presence behind you and a sudden heat washes over you.

“Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon sweetheart.”

You whirl around at the familiar voice, only to see the dark-haired man from the night before standing behind you with a sharp grin. You note he’s wearing the same clothes from the night before, but he’s switched out his long duster for a shorter leather jacket with a ripped collar, adding to his intrigue.

“Oh hey! Dabi, right?” you ask him, prompting him to nod with a wicked smirk.

“Sounds nice, coming from you.”

You roll your eyes at his flirtatious comment, instead asking what you wanted to ask him last night. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

Dabi’s smirk only grows wider at your question, his bright blue eyes seemingly growing brighter. “No.”

“You ever going to tell me what it is?”

The dark-haired man clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe later, if you stick around long enough.”

You shrug, not seeing any point in pushing it further. “Do you live around here?”

Dabi nods after a moment. “Yeah, I rent a place near here with a few guys. They’re tolerable.”

“Oh, your friends from last night?” you ask, thinking back to the group of men with him last night. You can’t help but grin as the man’s handsome face twists into a grimace at your comment.

“Wouldn’t go as far as to call them my friends, but we’ll go with that.” His dry response causes you to laugh.

“So, you’re more of a lone wolf, huh?”

Dabi snorts, the hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Absolutely. Up until those idiots wormed their way into my life years ago, I was fine with being on my own.”

You laugh at his comment before asking: “Have you lived here long?”

At your question, Dabi seems to pause. You watch as he chews on his bottom lip before carefully responding.

“I’ve been here a while, yeah.”

You nod, “Well, it seems nice here from what I’ve seen so far. It’s a lot different from Tokyo, but in a good way, I think.”

Dabi snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks away from you. “If you’re saying that, then you clearly don’t know what actually goes on around here.”

You frown at his cryptic reply, not sure how to feel about what he’s telling you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dabi only gestures for you to follow him, and you do without much resistance. He ends up taking you further down the boardwalk to a spot you hadn’t yet been to, and stops in front of a large bulletin board plastered with several layers of white filers.

He taps the board. “Welcome to the missing person’s capitol of Japan.” He tells you flatly, allowing you to get a closer look at the papers rustling in the breeze. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as you take in the layers upon layers of printed paper faces and their basic information printed out under them. From what you can see, some of the missing person fliers are months old, and others are as recent as a week ago. The missing people seem to be of every age and ethnicity, but the number of people plastered on the bulletin board is shocking.  

You turn to Dabi, flabbergasted. “What the hell is this?”

Dabi shrugs nonchalantly. “An open secret.”

“I checked out the area before I moved here. All the websites I looked at painted this place as quiet and safe. I never saw anything like this.” You protested, causing the dark-haired man to nod.

“That’s because the authorities do whatever they can to cover it up. This has been going on for a long time. Years, honestly. These are the most recent ones.”

“The most recent?!”

“Like I said, years, babe. Didn’t you ever wonder why the rent around here was so cheap?”

“I—well, I mean, yeah, but—” You run a hand through your hair nervously. “I came here to escape from the chaos – not get involved in a different kind.”

Dabi pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and puts one in his mouth, but doesn’t light it, instead opting to nudge your shoulder gently. “You’ll be fine during the day. No one’s going to steal you away sweetheart. It’s night time you have to be worried about. Just keep your head down and don’t go looking for trouble, you’ll be fine.”

You hum in response, but you must not look very convinced, because he sighs around his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth and flicking it into a nearby trashcan. “Tell you what; how about I walk you back to your building. Will that make you feel better?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

“You’re not.” Dabi interrupts you as he brushes past you gently, his abnormally warm fingers ghost the skin of your arm as he passes you. “Come on. I’ll take you back home. Can’t have someone snatching you away now, can we?”

He winks at you, laughing lightly as your face flushes against your will, yet you find yourself tailing after him, leading him back to your apartment. Normally you’d be very against allowing a near perfect stranger to know where you live, but the news of the missing people has shaken you more then you’d like to admit, and right now having some extra company doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

You walk slowly back to your apartment side by side with him, and in that time, you end up talking about anything and everything. Conversation seems to come naturally with him, and your guard slowly drops. The more you talk to him, the more he seems to loosen up in turn, though he keeps a polite distance when you try and find out more about him, instead, re-directing the conversation back to you.

“So, you never told me why you left Tokyo.” he drawls, heavily lidded eyes finding your own. “This isn’t exactly near there. I’m just trying to understand why you’d wanna leave your family behind to come here. You don’t strike me as the type who likes being alone for long periods of time.”

You stop short and mull over his question in your head. As much as you didn’t want to get into it, the raven-haired man was the closest thing you had to a friend here, and if you continued talking to him as you were, the question was bound to come up eventually. Instead, you exhale loudly through your nose before answering.

“Your original guess wasn’t far off.” You admit quietly, watching as his dark brows rise slightly at your subdued response.

You elaborate. “I left Tokyo to escape from my ex. The relationship had been bad for a while, and I should’ve left sooner then I did, but it was really hard. He was so possessive at the end, I felt like I was suffocating. It never got physical between us, but it probably would’ve if I stayed longer.”

You look up at your companion, only to see that his normally bright eyes are dark, and there’s a prominent tick in his jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. Dabi catches you staring at him, and sighs.

“Does he know where you are?” You shake your head.

“Not that I know of. I didn’t tell many people I was moving here aside from my parents. Most of my friends know I moved, but don’t know where to. I wanted to keep it quiet since he’s still trying to find ways to contact me. I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

Dabi hums in agreement as you approach your building. “So, you don’t have any friends out here, huh?”

You shake your head as you approach the main entrance. “I’m all by myself.”

You both stop a few feet from the door, and to your surprise (and relief), Dabi makes no move to invite himself in. You were worried he’d insist on walking you to your actual apartment, and as handsome as he was; you weren’t sure you wanted him knowing what apartment was yours… yet.

You’re just about to bid him goodnight before he suddenly speaks up, catching you off guard.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“No plans as far as I know. Just working during the day. I should be free past six. Why?” You sputter, not expecting him to ask.

Dabi shrugs, sending you a relaxed grin, and once again you note how his teeth are oddly sharp. “It’s Friday night. If you’re not busy and you want to make some new friends, the guys I room with are having a night in. If you want to join, you can. Our place isn’t far from here.”

You’re slightly shocked at his offer. He doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys more people hanging around him then necessary, but then again, you’ve been wrong about people before, and now that he’s offered, he’s right: you don’t have any friends out here, and you are becoming lonely. Maybe meeting some new people wouldn’t be a terrible thing.

Before you can think about it any longer, you hear yourself agreeing. “Sure, that sounds great.”

Dabi smirks at you, broadcasting his pearly canines. “Excellent. I’ll let them know you’re coming. I’ll come pick you up back here when the sun drops. My place is about twenty minutes by car.”

You nod with a small smile. “That sounds good. Thanks again for walking me back Dabi.”

He only waves you off. “It’s nothing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye.” You tell him as you open the door to your building, watching as he shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets and heads back in the direction of the boardwalk without another word. You watch him leave until he’s all but swallowed up by the surrounding darkness, before smiling to yourself and heading inside.

Dabi sinks his fangs into the man’s neck faster than he can scream for help. He holds him locked in a death embrace until the man’s frantic thrashing grows weaker, before completely stilling as his body grows limp in his hold.

It’s only when the man’s colour pallet has gone a deathly white does Dabi finally release his grip on the man, letting him collapse onto the sandy ground underneath the boardwalk. He wipes his bloodied mouth on the back of his sleeve with a grimace as he stares down at his victim.

Sour. Too sour for his liking. Clearly the man wasn’t in the best health before he got his hands on him, but beggers couldn’t be choosers, and he was hungry.

That’s the biggest downside to being what he is: the insatiable thirst for blood couldn’t be ignored for long. He would know. He’s tried to fight against his unsavory appetite in the past, but the end results are always the same, and he not about to starve just so a few lost souls could be spared. He’s no saint – in fact, he’s damn near the opposite of one.

Vampire.

The title is branded into him, even if only he can see it. He has to feed regularly in order to keep his more monstrous tendencies at bay, but he can go a few days without a meal. Any longer than that, and the real him becomes visible to all. The last thing he needs is anyone finding out what he really is.

Dabi feels his fangs slowly retract into his gums as he cooly observes his latest kill. It wasn’t anything personal, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. Just like the rest of his victims, he prefers not to know anything about them – it makes draining their blood harder later on. The body laying before him was just some random man he’d seen wandering the boardwalk by himself half drunk, making him an ideal target. It was all too easy to lure the man to a more secluded spot before jumping him, but he’s had years of practice perfecting his craft. He’s done it so many times he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore.

The missing person board can confirm that much.

Once he’s certain most of the evidence has been cleaned from his face, he snaps his fingers, and the corpse before him suddenly bursts into bright blue flames – consuming the unnamed man until there’s nothing left of him except for a pile of blackened ash, and the horrid smell of burnt meat. 

Dabi sighs as he turns away from the remains and slowly trudges out from the wooden underbelly of the boardwalk above him, kicking at sand carelessly as his thoughts drift back to you.

You smell so good. Your blood practically sings to him. Walking you back to your apartment had been a challenge to him, as he had to fight every urge screaming at him to whisk you away and drain you dry, just like he’s planned to when he’d first laid eyes on you. But the more he talked to you, and the more you’d let him in on certain parts of your life, the less he wanted to do so.

You were… different. You stuck out from the other humans he’s forced to be around. You were sweet, if a bit withdrawn, but it added to your appeal. Your personality was refreshing, and it made him want to keep you around, and figure out just who you really are.

It helped that he found you to be rather… pretty, to say the least.

He wouldn’t bother trying to deny you were a good-looking girl. He’d seen the way you’d looked at him on the merry go round, and if that meant anything, then you found him to be just as attractive.

Well… at least you found his current face to be handsome. He’s not sure how you’d react to his real face, but he’d cross that bridge if and when he came to it.

He feels the corners of his lips upturn at the thought. Now the real test would be if you could handle him and his boys.

The next day is uneventful. You continue your training at the office, and slowly get to know some your co-workers past a first name basis. You finish up your work load at the end of the day and bid your co-workers good-bye, before making your way back home.

The sun is just starting to dip down in the sky by the time you get back into your apartment. You toss your keys onto your tiny kitchen table, taking a seat and scrolling through your phone mindlessly.

You respond to a few texts from your friends who know where you moved to, letting them know that you’re doing okay, and how you were going to meet with some of the locals later, before one of your friends texts out something that sends a chill down your spine.

Your ex had reached out to them asking them where you went.

Your friend assures you they didn’t tell him anything before you can ask, but you still feel a heavy weight building in your stomach. You end up putting your phone down after promising you’ll text them later, before getting up and moving into the living room, breathing heavily as you fight to control your nerves.

The sun has just sunk behind the horizon as you peer out your window, only to balk as you see a sleek black car parked beside yours in the parking lot, and a familiar man lounging on the hood, smoking a cigarette.

You swear to yourself as you grab your room key and bolt out of your apartment and down the staircase to the main floor. You make your way out into the parking lot, waving at the dark-haired man, who straightens up upon seeing you.

“Hey.” Dabi rasps, tossing down his cigarette and stomping it out.

“Hi.” You tell him with a slight smile. “I didn’t expect you to come by so soon.”

“I told you when the sun sinks.” The blue-eyed man retorts, but there’s no venom behind it. “You ready?”

“Let me get changed first.” You tell him, gesturing down to your work clothes. “You can come in and wait in my apartment if you want. I’d feel bad if I left you out here.”

Dabi looks hesitant at first, but he nods and follows you stiffly towards the entrance of your building. You wave him through, and he passes you with a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, before following you up the stairs to your front door. You open it and step in, expecting him to follow you, but he doesn’t. You shoot him a questioning look, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, giving you a tiny smirk.

“Gonna invite me in doll?”

“Oh, sorry, you can come in.” You laugh, and that seems to be the invitation he was waiting for, since he glides through your doorframe easily, shutting it behind him.

You can’t help by notice how glaringly out of place he seems in your minimalist apartment. He sticks out against the light colours like a sore thumb, and you have to bite back a giggle as you watch him take a seat on your small living room couch.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” you ask him as you make your way towards your room. Dabi only shakes his head as he leans back into your sofa.

“I’m good doll, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in just a second.” You tell him as you dip into your room, shutting your door behind you. You quickly throw on some casual but nice clothes and run a brush through your hair in an attempt to rid yourself of the tangles. You don’t know what kind of night you were in for with a bunch of men who looked to be in various stages of their twenties and early thirties, but you still wanted to look presentable. The last thing you wanted was to be accused that you were trying too hard, or turning Dabi’s invitation into something it wasn’t.

Once your satisfied with how you look, you make your way into your living room where Dabi is waiting for you. You don’t miss how he eyes you up and down as he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Ready?”

“All set.” You confirm, watching as his fiery blue eyes seem to light up as he grins at you. Twirling his car keys on his finger.

“I’ll drive.”

You follow him downstairs to his car, and surprisingly, he holds the door open for you. You slide into his passenger seat with a stammered thank you, allowing him to close the door behind you and get into the driver’s side, starting the car with a low roar. He puts the car in gear and pulls out of the apartment complex, before turning onto the road that leads back towards the beach, chatting you up all the while.

Your nerves about meeting the rest of his roommates slowly fade away as he assures you that his roommates where alright (even though he claimed they were still annoying), and while some of them were quieter than others, they meant well.

He steers the car past the boardwalk, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. Dabi catches your look and chuckles. “I rent a house on the other side of town with a few guys. It’s more secluded.”

You nod as you watch the multi-coloured lights from the rides pass you by as Dabi continues on down the road. You learn very quickly he wasn’t kidding about his house being secluded, as he pulls off the main road and onto a dirt path leading into the trees that line the left side of the road. You can’t help but inwardly sweat at the change of scenery, but the passive look on Dabi’s face doesn’t change as he focuses on the road.

“You plan on murdering me or something?” You half joke, only for him to snicker.

“Naw doll, not tonight. You’re too pretty for that.”

He must see how flushed your face is reflected in the mirror, because he laughs openly at you and reaches over to squeeze your knee with a hot hand

“Kidding. Relax, we’re here. Probably should’ve told you I live in the middle of nowhere.” He chuckles as he pulls into an old driveway and puts the car in park. “Welcome to my house.”

You find yourself looking at a large traditional-styled home that looks like nothing’s been done to it since the turn of the past century. There’s moss and dead leaves littering the roof and front yard, and some of the white paint on the front of the house is cracked and pealing. If you had stumbled across the house on your own, you would’ve thought it was abandoned – if not for the two other cars parked on the other side of the driveway, signaling the house was inhabited.

Dabi must see your apprehensive look as he gets out to open your door again despite your protests. “I know, it looks like a bit of a dump.” He admits as he jerks a thumb towards the house. “That’s what happens when you have five guys who all work nights living under one roof. Rents cheap though. It’s why we’ve been here for so long.”

“You all work nights?” you ask as Dabi leads you towards the front door. He hums in agreement as he opens the door, exposing a dark inside interior.

The more you think about it, the more it makes since. You’ve never encountered him during the day, and every time you’ve run into him it was always near the boardwalk.

“What is it that you do?” you ask him as he flicks on a light near the door, illuminating an old mudroom and part of a dark hall. He shuts the door behind you as he kicks off his shoes, prompting you to do the same.

“I work near the docks.” He tells you vaguely as he gestures for you to follow him further into the house. “I do some operational work. Shipping and receiving. All that boring shit. It’s not very exciting.”

“What do the rest of your roommates do?” you ask him as he takes you towards a closed off room near the back of the house. You can hear different voices echoing behind the door as well as what sounds like a TV playing in the background. Dabi only shakes his head at you as he opens the door, exposing the room inside.

“You can ask them yourself.”

You step inside and are greeted to the sight of the four men from the boardwalk lounging around a large flatscreen TV. The man with the pink dye job and silver haired man with the odd scarring on his face are huddled around the screen playing a fighting game, while the two older looking gentlemen are sitting on the worn leather couch behind them, providing commentary. The blonde one with the scar running down the front of his face is smoking another cigarette, while the brunette dressed in well-tailored clothes is sitting on the other side of the couch, away from the smoke.

The pink haired man lets out huff of annoyance as his on-screen character dies. He turns around, only to freeze as he locks eyes with you.

“Oh shit.” He breathes, “She came.”

His comment causes the other men to turn around and stare at you, their facial relations ranging from a mixture of surprise to slight distrust. You don’t know why some of them are looking at you with slightly guarded expressions, but you don’t get to dwell on it for long, as Dabi comes in behind you and lightly drapes an arm across your shoulders.

“These are the guys.” He announces, nodding at each of them in turn. “The two idiots on the floor are Tomera and Iguchi. That’s Jin,” he nods to the blonde who breaks out into a grin, waving at you. “—and last but not least is Atsuhiro.” The aforementioned man stands up to greet you, giving you a polite handshake.

“I apologize for the mess.” He tells you, gesturing around the crowed room. “We seldom get guests. We weren’t sure if you were actually going to come.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t notice.” You tell him as Dabi steers you towards an empty couch to the side of the one Jin and Atsuhiro are sitting on. You notice he keeps his hand on your frame as you sit down with him, and he doesn’t remove it afterwards, almost as if he’s guarding you. It’s not uncomfortable, but you notice the same uneasy feeling you had when you first met him and his motley crew is back. There’s something about them that unnerves you, but for the life of you, you can’t place what it is.

They seem alright at first glance though. Tomura and Iguchi resume their game, but make a point to talk to you while they play, as Jin and Atsuhrio engage you in conversation, all the while Dabi observes you, not really adding anything to the conversations, and seems content just listening to you talk to his roommates.

You find out that Tomura and Iguchi are streamers – their online tags being Shigaraki and Spinner respectively – while Atsuhrio works as a street performer using the stage name Mr. Compress. Meanwhile Jin (who insists you call him Twice, for reasons he doesn’t get into), does deliveries around town during the evening, on top of working with Dabi at the docks when it’s slow, but has the night off tonight.

As you slowly start to relax, the conversations gradually become easier until you’re questioning why you felt so uneasy in the first place; that is, until Tomera makes an off-handed comment to you.

“M’surprised he brought you back here.” He jerks a thumb back at Dabi, not looking up from his game. “Most girls don’t last that long with him—”

“Tenko,” Dabi seethes out through gritted teeth beside you. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“Don’t call me by that name.” The red eyed man snaps suddenly, pausing the game to glare at the man beside you. “That name is dead, and you know I’m right.”

“Don’t be an ass.” Dabi snarls back as he pulls you towards him. “I told you to behave tonight while she’s over.”

“Fuck you, you’re not my father.”

“No, but I can torch your ass—”

“Alright, maybe we shouldn’t have this fight in front of her.” Iguchi suddenly speaks up, cutting them both off. “I don’t know about you guys, but I like her, and I want her to come back.”

“Thank you, Iguchi, I like you too.” You tell him sweetly, causing the tips of his ears to pinken, as he mumbles something intelligible under his breath and turns back towards the TV. Tomura rolls his eyes and resumes the game. Jin only chuckles as he turns towards you.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jin tells you with a genuine smile. “Himiko’s going to love you.”

You shoot Dabi a questioning look, but he only rolls his eyes. “You’ll meet her shortly.”

“Her? But I thought only you guys lived here—”

Before you can get another word out, the distant slam of a door, accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing towards the room interrupts you. As the light footsteps grow closer, you feel Dabi tense up beside you, as he leans over to whisper something to Atsuhiro that sounds suspiciously along the lines of, “I swear, if she’s just getting back in from one of her nightly rampages, we’re going to have a problem-“ Before a blonde girl who looked to be no older then eighteen, with two hair buns on either side of her head, bursts into the room with an almost manic grin on her face.

“Guys, you would not believe what I smelled coming back up here.” She cackles. “I think there’s a—” she cuts herself off as her abnormally golden eyes find yours. Before you can blink, she’s tossed herself over the couch that Jin and Atsuhrio are sitting on and plops herself down right in front of you.

“Hi! You’re really pretty! I’m Himiko Toga! Who are you?” she questions you with a smile that’s almost too wide for her face. You introduce yourself with a breathless laugh at her animated introduction, only to hear what sounds like a rumble coming from Dabi.

You turn to him only to see his insanely blue eyes are locked on the girl sitting in front of you and realize that he is, in fact growling at her.

“Back off Toga.” He warns her, but she ignores him.

“God I’m so happy another girl is here – I’m stuck here with these smelly boys every day and it get so boring! Do you know that you smell really, really good by the way—”

“Okay, enough.” Dabi hisses through gritted teeth. “Jesus, you don’t need to come onto her that fucking strong.”

Himiko gapes at him in mock shock. “Oh, come on. I could smell her all the way from outside the front door. You know she smells good. We all know!” She points around the room, but for some reason none of the other men meet her eye. In fact, they seem to be trying incredibly hard not to acknowledge what she’s saying.

Odd. You don’t remember putting on any perfume before you left.

“Thanks… I guess.” You tell her, unsure of what to say in response. Before the younger girl can respond, Dabi swiftly interrupts her.

“It’s not a bad thing. This psycho just doesn’t know how to give a compliment like a normal fucking person.” He shoots her a pointed look, but he’s not snarling at her anymore. Himiko seems to get the point, and sticks her tongue out at him, settling into the space between Jin and Atsuhrio, chatting excitedly with the older blonde, while occasionally sneaking glances at you.

The earlier tension fades away and you spend the next couple of hours with the odd group, chatting with each of them. Some of them have more to say then others such as Jin and Himiko, while Tomura and Iguchi are more on the quiet side, but still pleasant to talk to none the less. Dabi remains quiet for the most part next to you, never saying much, but you can tell he’s pleased with how you interact with his roommates.

Still, even as you grow more comfortable around them, there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something is off about them. You have no proof to back up your unease though, so you try your best to ignore it, and focus on having a good time. After all, the seemingly mismatched group was the closest thing you had to actual friends here, and made you realize how badly you missed your group of friends back home.  

You quickly end up losing track of time, and it’s only when Dabi checks his phone besides you, and muffles a curse under his breath, do you realize how late it is.

“Shit, it’s already five, I gotta take you home, sun will be up soon.” He mutters as he stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept.

“Gotta keep up your sleep schedule?” you ask, hearing Tomura snort in the background at your comment. Dabi only nods as he heads towards the door.

“Something like that.”

You wave at the rest of the group. “It was really nice meeting you all.” You tell them sincerely. “Hopefully we can do this again sometime.”

“Come back anytime!” Himiko chirps, waving at you enthusiastically. “You better bring her back!” she crows at Dabi’s retreating from, and he waves at her without turning back around.

He leads you towards the front of the house where your shoes are, before walking out into the dewy morning air towards his car. Once again, he holds your door open for you, ignoring your protests, before getting in himself and starting the car, pulling out of the old driveway, and heading back down the dirt path towards the main road.

The sun is just starting to peak out from the horizon, painting the coastline in soft pinks and purples as Dabi steers the car past the old boardwalk, before you finally ask the question that had been on your mind for the last couple of hours.

“So, what’s the deal with Himiko?”

The dark-haired man only grunts. “You mean why is she so unhinged? Beats the hell outta me princess. “

“No, not that.” You wave him off, smacking his shoulder playfully at the nickname as he sends you a shit-eating grin in response. “I mean… you didn’t tell me about her initially, and I’ve never seen her with you before. Does she live with you too?”

Dabi mulls over your question for a moment, keeping a careful eye on the horizon which is slowly growing brighter, as he turns onto your street. After a moment he nods.

“Yeah, she does.” He confirms. “I know how it looks: one high school girl living with five guys in their twenties and thirties, but trust me, it’s not like that.” He’s quiet for a moment before elaborating.

“Toga has a shitty past. She ran away from her folks years ago – bad homelife from what she told us – and she had nowhere to go for a long time. I found her wandering the boardwalk one day and she never left after that. She took to Twice immediately, and she’s basically like his little sister. He’d do just about anything for her.” He exhales through his noes as he begrudgingly admits; “Hell, we all would.”

“Damn, how much did it hurt to admit that?” you tease him, prompting him groan.

“Shut up.” He grumbles as he pulls into your building’s parking lot. He parks the car and turns to you. “So, did we scare you off?”

“Not yet.” you tell him with a smile as you unbuckle your seat beat and open your door, posed to leave. “You guys are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that, but honestly; this was really nice. Thank you for inviting me over. I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”

Dabi shrugs his shoulders, “Well they seem to like you, especially Toga and Twice, so you’re welcome to come over again if you want. It’ll have to be during the evening though, since we all work at night.”

“Noted.” You tell him as you slide out of the car, only for him to suddenly grab your arm. You turn to stare at him quizzically, only for him to nod at your purse.

“Gimme me your phone for a second.”

You unlock it and pass it to him wordlessly, only to see him open a new contact in your phone and type something into it before passing it back to you. “My number.��� He tells you before you can ask. “It’s easier to get a hold of me this way, rather than running into me at night at random.”

“Good call.” You agree, “I’ll text you later?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He sends you a knowing smirk. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.”

“Yeah… later.” You tell him, closing the door behind you. He waits until you’ve made it inside your building’s lobby, before peeling out of the parking lot and taking off towards his house like hell on wheels. You find it a little strange, but you loose track of your thoughts when you glance down at your phone, only to see he’s labeled himself as Dabi with a little flame emoji and a winky face next to his name in your contacts.

You feel yourself blush involuntarily as you stuff your phone back in your purse and climb the stairs to your apartment.

You definitely had a crush on him, you couldn’t deny it. Yet there was something off about him you just couldn’t place. There was something he wasn’t telling you – you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

The next several weeks come and go, and for the most part, they’re uneventful.

Work is going well, and you finally manage to find the time to finish personalizing your apartment so it looks more like home. Your friends still message you occasionally, giving you updates about what’s going on back home, and your ex pops up in conversation with them once or twice on how he’s still asking about you, much to your dismay. Aside from that, everything in your life is shockingly normal.

It feels almost odd being able to say it out loud. This is the most at ease you’ve felt since breaking up with your ex. Being on your own, away from him and his obsessive tendencies, makes you question why you didn’t do it sooner.

It feels nice, being able to breathe for the first time in almost two years since calling it off with him. Your life is calmer, maybe a bit slower than you’re used to, but it’s peaceful and stable. You’re happy.

The only major thing that’s changed recently is how you’re spending a lot more time around Dabi now.

Ever since he gave you his number, you’ve been texting back and forth frequently. You’ve gotten to know him better in that time (even though he still refused to tell you his real name), and you can safely say; he has his quirks.

For starters; he only messages you at night. He’s radio silent during the day, and only texts you back once the sun has set, or whenever he gets up. You’d blame it on him working nights, but he’s always quick to respond to your texts late at night, and always seems to be free whenever you message him asking if he wanted to get together, making you wonder what kind of work schedule he runs on.

Another thing you find peculiar is how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat before. You’ve offered to make him dinner a few times or to go into town to get something, but he always waves you off politely, telling you he’s already eaten, or giving you some other reason why he doesn’t want to get food with you. It’s not a deal-breaker by any means, and he doesn’t strike you as the type to have issues with food, but you leave it be just in case.

He's also weird about coming into your apartment even though he’s been in it multiple times by now. You’d initially thought he was uncomfortable being in your space, but it seems to be more of a politeness thing than anything else. He’s definitely not as stiff about entering like he was when he first came to visit, but he still makes a show about you inviting him in, even though he claims he could waltz right into your unit if he wanted to, but he never does.

Finally, you’ve noticed he isn’t particularly well-liked by the locals. In fact; none of the people in his house seem to be, but it’s especially bad with him.

It’s glaringly obvious. He’s taken you into town a handful of times so you can walk around together, only for people to glare pointedly at him and start whispering as soon as you were both out of ear-shot. If it bothers him, he doesn’t let it show, but you know from how his jaw tenses up, he’s aware that people are talking behind his back.

You tried to ask him about it once, but he shrugged you off, saying something about how there was some bad blood between him and some of the older locals, but refused to dive into it, stating how it was old news, but some people didn’t like to forget the past. His tone had given you the impression he wasn’t going to tell you any more than that, so you’d left it alone, not wanting to get into it.

There were somethings people didn’t feel comfortable sharing. You could relate; your rocky relationship with your ex was one of those topics for you.

To his credit, Dabi doesn’t pry into it, but it’s come up a few times – it’s inevitable, you knew it would eventually – but he doesn’t force you to say more then what you want to tell him. You don’t think you’d have to say much anyways; he seems to be able to piece together what happened in your past relationship on his own, without you having to say much of anything.

“Guy’s a dick.” He’d told you bluntly one night as you were taking an evening stroll around the boardwalk. “Seriously, he sounds like a tool. You should be glad you got out of there when you did. I wouldn’t waste your time crying over someone like him.”

“Easy to say that now – it wasn’t so easy when I was living with him.” You’d told him calmly. “We had joint banking. It’s hard to get out when you have to pay rent and buy groceries. I saved up enough to move out and get my place here eventually, but it took time.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, shifting his piercing blue orbs from your figure to the wooden boards beneath his feet, before nodding and muttering mostly to himself; “Yeah. I get that.”

For some reason, your heart had swelled in your chest upon seeing him vulnerable for a moment – a far cry from his usual fiery and cocky self.

In that moment you knew you were screwed; you were down bad for a man whose real name you still didn’t know. Somewhere along the lines, he had wormed his way into your heart without you noticing, and made a place from himself there.

Yet, you couldn’t say you minded. He was different from anyone you’d ever met, but in a way you found refreshing.

Currently, you find yourself walking with him on the boardwalk once again, admiring the blinking strings of fairy lights. Dabi doesn’t hold your hand, but he walks stride for stride with you, your shoulders bumping occasionally at the close proximity. Suddenly, a loud wail interrupts the usual fair noises permeating the warm evening air around you.

You both turn in the direction of the cry, only to see two middle-aged women standing in front of the massive missing person’s board. One of the ladies is sobbing unconsolably, while the other one is trying to console her.

Ah yes, you’d been so wrapped up with moving into your place and hanging out with Dabi on top of work, you’d almost completely forgotten about the town’s dark underbelly.

You can see Dabi’s lips pull downwards slightly as he takes them in, and he reaches out to try and steer you away from the scene, muttering under his breath about not wanting to get involved, but you gently pull your arm away from his grasp as you take a hesitant step towards the ladies who are slowly moving away from the old wooden board. You manage to overhear the last bit of their conversation as they leave, and older woman’s cry’s pull at your heart.

“—I don’t understand, where could he have gone? I saw him that morning, but he never came back home!”

“—We’ll find him dear. Maybe he’s visiting your friends on the other side of town.”

“—He would’ve called! It’s been three days! Three days since I’ve heard any word from my husband!”

You creep closer to the old corkscrew board and feel your heart sink in your chest as you find yourself looking at a fresh photo of a middle-aged man, presumably the woman’s missing husband. Now that you can see the board in its entirety, you notice there’s several new fliers posted among the sea of other missing faces, presumably never found.

You hear the heavy tread of Dabi’s combat boots behind you. “There’s more.” You tell him sadly without turning around. You hear him exhale loudly through his nose.

“Told you there would be. I wasn’t lying. This place is the missing person’s capitol of Japan.”

“I don’t understand.” You turn to face him, only to see that he has a blank expression on his face, giving nothing away. “I’ve never seen anything suspicious when we’ve gone out at night, and you told me that’s when this stuff usually happens.”

“The difference is; you don’t go out looking for trouble.” Dabi tells you smoothly, his insanely blue irises meeting yours, locking you in place. “Trust me, these people probably went out of their way to stumble across something they weren’t supposed to see, and they paid the price for it. Bad things happen all the time sweetheart, whether you see them or not.”

“You seem pretty confident about that.” You murmur finally, holding his gaze. “Had some experience with trouble in the past?”

For once, Dabi doesn’t have anything to say to you. Finally, he sighs and rakes a hand through his inky spikes. “Maybe.”

You want to ask him what he means, but in that moment, you feel your phone vibrate from inside your purse. You fish it out, only to see a text appear on screen that has your blood turning to ice in your veins.

???

Found you.

There’s no name attached to the text, only a random number you don’t recognize, but you think you already know who it’s from.

It has to be him. There’s only one other person you can think of who would text you something so innocent but so sinister, and it has you feeling like you want to puke.

Your ex-boyfriend.

Your eyes dart around the packed boardwalk wildly, trying to see if you could spot the familiar face of your ex in the crowd, but thankfully, you don’t see him anywhere.

How in the hell did he find you? There were only a few friends aside from your parents who knew where you’d moved to, and you highly doubt any of them would tell him where you’d gone. It was possible he’d simply gotten a new number and found a way to text you just to scare you, and if that’s what he wanted, he had accomplished his goal.

Your panic must be written across your face clear as day, because the next thing you know, Dabi has a hand underneath your chin, lifting your face up to meet his concerned expression.

“—I asked if you were okay doll. I’ve been calling you, but you didn’t respond to me.” He tells you. He glances down at your phone, a frown pulling at his lips. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” You tell him truthfully, shoving your phone back into your bag. “A really sick joke, I hope.”

His eyes narrow, the fire burning in them shines brightly, even though they’re more lidded then usual as he narrows his eyes at you. “What’s going on sweetheart?”

“Nothing—I—” You croak. You can’t stop looking around, hoping, praying, you don’t see the one person you were trying to escape from staring back at you. “—I gotta go.”

A look of concern passes over Dabi’s face, and you feel a flash of guilt for lying to him, but you don’t want to get him involved. You don’t want to bring anyone else into your mess. It’s not fair.

“If this was about earlier, I can—”

“It’s not!” you cut him off, already backing away from him. “I’ll text you later. I just—I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”

You don’t give him time to respond, before you pivot on your heel and book it down the boardwalk, away from the blinding lights, and away from him.

You don’t look back, and you don’t stop running until you’re in your tiny apartment – slamming the door behind you and locking it – even though it feels suffocating. It feels like the walls are closing in on you, and you’re finding it hard to breathe as you collapse onto your bed and cry.

You don’t know what to do.

You awake to the sound of furious pounding on your door.

You don’t know when you passed out; probably sometime after you managed to calm down slightly, but you can feel the dried tear tracks covering your cheeks as you slowly sit up and shuffle hesitantly towards your front door. The pounding continues, and you can’t help but wonder what time it is, and if you were going to receive a noise complaint from one of your neighbors, before you hear a horribly familiar voice just outside your door:

“I know you’re in there. You better open up right now or I’ll get your whole building involved!”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you hear the unmistakable sound of your ex-boyfriend’s voice snarl threateningly from the other side. You feel like someone’s dumped a bucket of freezing water on you as you start to panic. Tears flood your eyes involuntarily as you try to process what’s happening, but nothing’s making sense.

You have no doubt he’d wake the rest of your apartment building to get at you – if he hadn’t already woken up your neighbors. You know what he’s like better than anyone. Your ex has always been a big guy, and once he has his mind set on something (or someone), he’ll stop at nothing until he’s gotten it.

You have no idea how he got in the building in the first place, or how he figured out what apartment was yours, but that doesn’t matter as you watch your doorknob start twisting violently. You bolt forward and grab it with both hands, trying to keep it from unlocking as you listen to your ex-boyfriend grunt outside the door, no doubt trying to pick the lock from the outside.

After a few moments of back and forth struggling with the door; you hear the tell-take click of the door unlocking. You don’t stick around to watch it swing open – you know you won’t be able to hold it closed against him for long if he tries to force it open – and you sprint to your bedroom, slamming the flimsy door shut and locking it behind you.

You can’t calm down; you hear him in your kitchen, treading around the tiny space, calling for you, before his heavy footsteps slowly make their way towards your bedroom door.

You have limited options; if your apartment was closer to the ground, you’d consider escaping out your bedroom window, but you’re several stories up and you don’t want to do something that may cause you to break your leg, putting you at even more of a disadvantage against your ex-boyfriend. You have no idea what he wants from you, but if he’s so desperate that he’s willing to stalk you and break into your apartment, it can’t be good.

The police will take too long to get to you, you already know this. In the past, they hadn’t been helpful in these kind of situations – you know from experience. You can’t call them… but there is someone you can call.

You dive for your purse and pull out your phone just as your ex starts pounding on your bedroom door. Your finger hovers over Dabi’s contact in your phone, as he starts yelling at you through the door. You don’t want to involve Dabi in your personal troubles, you really don’t… but right now, you don’t have a choice.

Even though you don’t want to call him… you know he’ll help you.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you’ve hit the call button, and scoot yourself into the farthest corner of your room from the door, as you listen to the phone ring. It only rings twice before he picks up.

“It’s three in the morning sweetheart, what’s going on? Are you okay—”

“Dabi please help me!” you interrupt him, whispering frantically as your ex starts to rattle your doorknob. “I’m in trouble. I don’t know what to do!”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Immediately, his voice deepens, and you can tell he’s on high alert. You can’t see him, but you can hear rustling on the other end, and the tell-tale jingling of keys in the background.

“I’m in my apartment—it’s my ex—I don’t know how, but he found me. He broke in, and now he’s outside my door!” You hate that you’ve starting crying again, but you’re terrified, and Dabi can tell.

“Is he in the room with you?” Dabi rasps on the other line. “I can hear shouting in the background, that him?”

“Yeah, that’s him, and no he’s not, but he’s trying to force his way in!”

Dabi hums and you hear a door slam in the distance, followed by the sound of what you assume is his car starting.

“I’ll be there in less then ten. Just stay on the line with me. Everything’s going to be okay doll, I promise. I don’t know what he wants, but he’s not going to hurt you, I promise—”

At that moment, your bedroom door flies inward, causing you to scream and drop your phone, ending the call, as your ex rushes towards you. A surge of pure adrenaline hits you, and you drive your foot into his stomach and kick him back, giving you enough time to push yourself to your feet and make a mad dash for your door, only for him to grab you around the middle, and throw you down onto your bed, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands before you can recover.

“Get off me you freak!” you screech as you thrash in his hold. You manage to knee him in the sternum, briefly knocking the wind of out him, but it only serves to make him angrier, as he presses his knees into your thighs, and grips your wrists so tightly you know you’ll have handshape bruises adorning your arms for days after.

“Hell no, I finally found you, you little bitch—there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go again.” Your ex seethes above you. “It took me weeks to track you down. Your friends were no help, so took me longer than expected to find you.”

“I didn’t want you to find me, that was the point of me moving here!” you wail as you desperately try to free your legs. “I never want to see you again! What part of that is so hard for you to understand?!”

“Bullshit. You and I aren’t done until I say we’re done.” Your ex snaps. He looks around your bedroom and scoffs.

“I see you’re trying so hard to build a new life without me. Ungrateful brat. You moved on fast.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Your ex-boyfriend dips down so your noses are almost touching. “I saw you on the boardwalk with that guy earlier. Who the hell is he? Your fuck-buddy? Your new boy toy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but he’s on his way here so I suggest you leave before he makes you!”

At your threat, your ex throws his head back and laughs. “I know what he looks like. He’s not even half my body weight. I’m not fucking scared of him—”

The abrupt sound of your front door being kicked in aggressively stops him mid-sentence, and the sound of heavy boots stomping towards your bedroom causes him to freeze. Your ex shifts so he’s more upright and looks behind him, giving you a clear view of your doorframe; only to see Dabi standing in it, looking absolutely feral.

His dark hair is wilder then usual, obsidian spikes sticking up every which way, and he has on the dark, torn duster you’d first seen him in over his usual dark pants and white tee-shirt, giving him a an almost deranged look. He has a mean glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and he looks almost predatory as your bedroom casts odd shadows across his face. You’ve never seen him this pissed before, and all of your instincts are screaming at you to run as you take in his disheveled appearance. 

“You’re not scared of me, huh?” Dabi chuckles, but there’s no humor to it. His voice is as cold as ice, but his eyes are like blue fire, and are locked on your ex.

“You should be.”

It’s the only warning you get before he lunges at your ex. The sudden tackle rips him off of you and Dabi wastes no time taking him to the floor as you bolt upright. You look on in shock as both men wrestle on the floor before it turns into an all-out slug fest between them. You leap out of the way as they make their way off the floor and crash into your walls, never once taking their hands off of each other as they yell obesities and filth that you’re certain your next-door neighbor can hear through your shared wall. 

Honestly, you’re shocked at how well Dabi is handling himself – you didn’t think he was weak, but he’s much leaner then your ex and not as tall – yet, he’s clearly got the upper hand as he cracks your ex across the face in rapid succession. You freeze as his nose explodes into a mess of scarlet, splattering across his face and your wall as he yells out in pain, taking his hands off of Dabi to hold his nose in a pathetic attempt to stanch the bleeding. The sudden display of gore has the opposite effect on Dabi.

He stares at the blood flowing from your ex’s nose like a faucet, before shooting you an almost apologetic look. 

“Sorry you have to see this doll.”

You don’t have time to ask him what he means before he seems to shift right before your eyes. The shadows of your room seem to warp and twist around him, and you think it’s just a trick of the moonlight streaming in from your window; until you watch his obsidian hair turn stark white.

You feel your eyes widen as his form shifts – you ex is too busy trying to keep his nose together to pay attention to what’s happening in front of him – but you notice a horrible burning smell wafting through the room as his once pale, flawless skin morphs into a patchwork mess of dusky, wrinkled burns, held together to the few patches of visible healthy skin by what looks like silver surgical staples glinting wickedly in the pale moonlight.

You have no idea what’s happening to him or who or what he is, but you feel your knees give out as he flashes you a nasty looking grin, giving you a full view of the wicked sharp fangs sliding down past his burnt lower lip.

“You—” you whisper, but you don’t manage to say anything more, before Dabi turns back to your ex, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him down to his level, before sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the side of his neck before the larger man can even register what’s happening.

Your ex tries to fend him off, but Dabi is stronger. He ends up relinquishing his hold on his hair in favour of wrapping his arms around him in a death embrace. You can’t pull your eyes off of the scene in front of you, as your ex’s struggling gradually grows weaker, while Dabi laps at the blood flowing freely from the deep puncture holes in the side of his neck.

You hear your ex gargle wetly in the back of his throat before he goes completely limp in the white-haired mans grip. After a moment, Dabi retracts his fangs from his neck, before tossing his motionless body to the floor. You whimper involuntarily as you cover your mouth, staring at the lifeless body of your ex-boyfriend as Dabi whirls around to face you, his piercing eyes finding yours.

“You killed him.” You whisper. Dabi only glances down at the still-warm corpse on your bedroom floor for half a second before locking eyes with you again.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“He was assaulting you.”

“Oh.” You croak lamely. You try not to stare at the red coating his lips and dripping down his chin, staining the white of his shirt.

A moment of silence descends on your room. The only thing you can hear is the frantic pounding of your heart in your chest – it’s so loud in the resounding silence, you’re sure Dabi can hear it. The air is so tense you can cut it with a knife, but neither of you make a move. Finally, you clear your throat.

“I think I’m going to call the police.”

“You’re not going to do that.”

When the ivory-haired creature speaks, his voice is low and quiet, but you can tell just by looking at his eyes, he means business. You swallow thickly and nod to the corpse behind him.

“There’s a dead body in my apartment Dabi, I need to call the police. I—” you cough, trying to reason with him. “I’m not going to tell them about you. I won’t say anything. I know you were trying to protect me, but I can’t just ignore a dead body in my bedroom—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dabi interrupts you, waving a hand at the corpse dismissively. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What do you mean you’ll—”

Dabi snaps his fingers, and before you can blink, the corpse of your ex-boyfriend bursts into bright blue flames. You scream as you scramble backwards, pressing yourself further against the wall, as the flames rage and quickly consume the body before your eyes. Dabi only grins savagely at your reaction.

“Don’t be scared sweetheart. He’s trash. The least he can do is become fuel for my flames.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, watching as the cobalt flames extinguish themselves, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. “What are you?”

Dabi only stares you down as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think you already know the answer doll.”

You do. But you don’t think you can voice it out loud. You don’t know what it means for either of you now.

Dabi licks his mismatched lips, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his red tinted fangs. “You’re coming with me.”

You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart.”

He’s on you faster than you can blink. He slaps a brunt hand over your mouth before you can cry out. He grabs your chin with his free hand as he presses you up against the wall, forcing you to stare into his burning irises.

“Sleep.” He commands.

You feel a wave of sudden fatigue pass over you, and your eyelids flutter shut against your will. The last thing you remember is feeling his insanely warm arms wrap around you and a sudden feeling of weightlessness, before sleep takes you.

You wake up with a pounding headache.

Blinking away sleep, you slowly sit up with a groan and rub at your eyes, wincing internally as you feel your eye makeup smear even further. You slowly look around, only to freeze as it suddenly dawns on you have no idea where you are.

You’re in what appears to be a bedroom, but it’s hard to tell since it’s so dark. The window coverings block out any form of light from outside, keeping you quite literally in the dark. You have no idea what time it is or (more concerning), who’s bedroom you’re in, until the events from before you passed out come flooding back to you.

Your ex. Blood everywhere. Dabi. Scars. Blue flames. Fangs.

You shudder at the last thought. Had you hallucinated the whole thing? It didn’t seem real. You think back to feeling the heat of the flames that had consumed your ex-boyfriend on your skin, and you rub at your arms involuntarily.

No, they had definitely been real. Which means everything else was real too.

Currently, you were certain of two things:

One: your shitty ex was dead. Drained of his blood before being incinerated to a crisp before your very eyes.

Two: Dabi wasn’t human.

Before you can sink too far into your thoughts, you’re suddenly aware of a prickling sensation dancing along your skin. You know the feeling all too well, and as groggy as you might feel in the moment, you’re painfully aware someone’s watching you.

You’re not alone.

A slight shuffling noise from the far corner of the room catches your attention. You slowly turn in the direction of the sound with baited breath, only to see an abnormal looking shadow faintly outlined in the surrounding darkness of the room.

You already know who it is without him having to say anything.

“Dabi?” you call out to him timidly. A deep sigh answers you.

“Good, you’re awake. You’ve been out for a while.” He rasps quietly.

“Where am I?” you ask, squinting at his outline. The more you try to make him out, the more he seems to try and blend into the pitch of the room.

“My room. Back at the house. I drove us back here after you passed out.” You hear him kiss the back of his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sleep for so long.”

“Wait, how long have I been out?” you question, as you feel around your surroundings, only to realize that he’s put you on his bed.

“About an hour. Dawn’s coming soon. I couldn’t leave you alone after you saw all… that.”

He doesn’t need to clarify what he means.

You both laps into an uncomfortable silence, before you finally gather up the courage to ask him the question that’s plagued you since he took you.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Silence answers you, and you feel yourself start to shake as every horrible scenario you can think of races through your head. Almost as if he senses the what you’re thinking about, you hear Dabi take a hesitant step forward, only to catch himself at the last second.

“…No.” he finally admits. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” you sniff, as you try to control the tears you feel pricking at the corners of your lash line. “Why do any of this. What are you? Who are you?”

He doesn’t answer you. You squint into the abys of the room where you know he is, and you can faintly see his deep blue eyes gazing back at you, looking like twin flames in the gloom. You swallow hard and try a different approach.

“It’s too dark in here… can I have some light?”

Dabi sighs, but you hear him snap his fingers, and suddenly a candle you didn’t know was nearby, bursts into blue flames. The wicks hiss and sizzle before settling, casting an eerie blue glow around the room, illuminating it slightly. You glance to the corner where you know Dabi is, and you can see him a little better, though he seems to be trying to keep himself out of the light as much as possible.

You frown slightly. “Come here.” You tell him quietly, patting the space beside you on the bed. You know you’re tempting fate, but you believe him when you say he won’t hurt you. He had multiple chances to kill you, and yet; you’re still here.

You hear Dabi snort. “I don’t think you want that.”

You shake your head. “I do. C’mere. We need to talk.”

Dabi falls silent, but you see him turn towards you, and slowly makes his way over to you. The flickering blue light the candle provides casts twisted shadows over his lean frame as he stops just in front of you, and bends down so he’s eye level with you.

You find yourself face to face with a mess of painful looking burns covering the majority of his face, held together with countless surgical staples. The burns are everywhere; under his eyes, his neck, the entirety of his lower jaw, and even his ears. Now that you’re up close, you can see he even has some staples decorating his ears much like regular piercings, and he even has three studs dotting the right side of his nose. They suit him in a way, and you can’t help but find him handsome, even with half of his face completely ravaged by burns.

Dabi’s eyes glint savagely as you take him in slowly, his two-toned lips pulling back and exposing the deadly sharp fangs inside his maw. “Not pretty, is it?”

“What happened to you?” you whisper, hesitantly reaching up to touch his burnt lower jaw. Dabi seems to want to flinch away from your touch, but he forces himself to stay grounded as your fingertips gently brush his destroyed skin.

He laughs breathlessly and rakes a burnt hand aggressively through his now very white hair. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He agrees, pulling away from your gentle hands reluctantly. He trudges over to a small loveseat pushed up against the wall opposite to his bed and sits down on it, shrugging off his torn duster, before putting his head in his hands with a sigh, giving you a painful view of the long wine-coloured burns tracking down his arms and ending at his knuckles.

You try not to focus at the dried blood that’s still decorating his shirt and hands.

After a moment he props his head up on his hands, fixing you with his intense gaze, but still doesn’t say anything. You realize he’s waiting for you; but now you’re at a loss for words. The agitated vampire across the room from you sighs, and you can see the veins in his neck become more prominent as he forces himself to try and relax.

“I know you have questions, so ask.”

“So, you’re really a—” you cut yourself off and swallow thickly. Even though you know what he is without him saying it, you still can’t quiet bring yourself to say it out loud. He leans forward, smiling meanly as he rests his forearms on his knees, eyeing you with his burning stare of his, that suddenly seems so cold.

“Go on, you can say it.” He prompts you, finally getting you to unfreeze.

“—A vampire.” You finish lamely. He nods, leaning back and draping both arms over the back of the loveseat.

“You got it sweetheart.”

“But how?” you prod, finally finding your voice. “I thought they were myth?”

“So did I, until one bit me.” Dabi snickers unkindly across from you, before quieting down, allowing you to ask your next question.

“How did you become one?”

“I died.” Dabi tells you flatly, avoiding your gaze for the first time since he brought you here. His nose scrunches up after he says it.

“Well, I almost did. Technically I was walking the line between life and death when the old fucker found me.”

He sighs and runs a blood-stained hand through his spiky white mane, leaving faint russet streaks behind. You force yourself to maintain eye contact with him as he speaks again.

“When I was alive, my name was Touya Todoroki.” He admits softly, giving you his real name for the first time since you met him.  “I was taking a walk in the woods near my family home when a forest fire broke out, burning everything. I got trapped in the blaze and I ended up with these.” He gestures to the dark patches of gnarled skin covering the majority of his visible skin.

“I’m not sure how I managed to survive, and I don’t know how long I was left there for; but it was the vampire who ended up turning me, who found me in the aftermath. I was in bad shape and probably would’ve died if he hadn’t given me his blood, turning me into this.”

He says it so scathingly. You know he’s frustrated without him having to tell you. Still… the horrific burns that mar his skin tell you a story of unspeakable agony. There’s no way a normal person would’ve been able to survive what he went through without help. His help just happened to have come from an unexpected source.

“He saved you.” You murmur quietly, causing Dabi… Touya… whatever his name was, to snort bitterly.

“He didn’t fucking ask, he just did, consequences be damned. Believe me, there was plenty of days at the beginning where I wish he hadn’t and just let me die.”

His bluntness causes a deep ache to bloom in your chest as you take in the vast amount of damage covering his body. You can only imagine how much worse the burns had been when he’d first been turned, on top of dealing with becoming what he is now. Before you can say anything, Dabi continues on, still refusing to look at you directly.

“After he turned me; my sire brought me back with him to recover. I ended up staying with him for a few years while I was figuring out my new body before I eventually left. Found my way here a while ago and never ended up leaving. Been here ever since.” He looks at you pointedly. “Don’t ask me how old I am. I stopped keeping track a while ago.”

Normally you’d be content to leave it there (honestly, now that he’s said it, you’re not sure if you want to know exactly how old he is anyways), but he has a car, which means he must have a license of some kind, which then begs the question how he was able to get one in the first place.

“Wait, so if you’re a vampire and you’re… older than you look, how have you been able to get a drivers license, or any I.D. for that matter?” Dabi snorts.

“Remember how Compress works as an entertainer?”

“Yeah…?”

“Turns out he’s really good at forgery too.”

“Oh.” You furrow your brows at his explanation.

“So… Compress knows about your… condition?” Dabi smirks at your hesitance.

“Oh yeah. Fully aware.”

“Is he… I mean… is everyone in the house a—”

“We’ll put it this way doll: nobody in this house has a heartbeat except for you.”

Well, this just kept getting better and better. Not only was your crush and his friend’s part of the undead; they were also committing fraud. You definitely knew how to pick them.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are upon hearing the rest of Dabi’s roommates are also vampires. All of them operated at night, and they definitely had quirks that set them apart from other people. Not to mention it would also explain the feeling of unease you always experienced around them. You’re more shocked at how many there are, which brings you to your next question:

“So, your sire—” you look at him questionably, waiting for him to explain. Thankfully, he provides you with an answer.

“—is a term referring to the one who turns you, yeah. Mine happened to be a particularly old bastard. Strong as hell, but old as time. He had a lot of influence over my kind back in the day. Pretty sure he died some years back. No idea who killed him, but I’d thank them if I knew.” He pauses before laughing lightly.

“Come to think of it; Shigaraki and I share the same sire, but he stayed with him way longer than I did. I left as soon as I could.”

Well, that was interesting news. “Why?”

“He played favourites.”  The snowy-haired vampire grins at you from across the way, but there’s no warmth behind his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure he turned me first, but I was already gone by the time Shigaraki came into the picture. We knew of each other, but our paths never crossed. He sought me out a year or two before our sire bit the dust, and I’ve been stuck with him ever since. As for the others…” he waves his hand dismissively. “Hell if I know. They just sort of showed up one day, one after the other. I don’t know how they found us, s’not like I was broadcasting we were here, but they still came regardless, and then they never left.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to your sire.” You tell him. “It must be hard, loosing your mentor like that.” To your surprise Dabi only laughs, waving off your concerns.

“Don’t be. In fact, I’m not. I’m glad he’s gone. Shigaraki was more torn up about it then I ever was, but even he got over it. There’s a lot of perks that come along with your sire dying. Powerful perks.” He leans forward, pointing to the blue flames chewing away at the candle wicks.

“When it comes to vampire hierarchy, the most powerful vampires are the older ones who create the majority of newer vampires. The vampires they turn are basically their pawns – never to get any stronger – unless, their creator dies. Then they can inherit some of their former sire’s abilities through succession.”

He grins darkly at the confused expression you know you must be wearing on your face, because he elaborates before you can ask. He taps the marred skin of his lower jaw.

“If you haven’t noticed, I can shift between my real face, and the one you’re used to seeing; minus the burns. I didn’t used to be able to do that. Do you know how fucking difficult it is to go out in public when your face looks like this? Even at night, all people do is stare. It’s fucking annoying.” He shakes his head, allowing the dim candle light to reflect off his pale hair, giving it a blue tinge. “There’s a bunch of other things I can do now, but this is the most useful.”

“Like the flames?” You ask. Surprisingly, Dabi shakes his head.

“No, that I’ve always been able to do since I turned. My own special ability if you will. Normally you get one when you become a vampire. Shigaraki can decay shit; Toga can transform herself into a different person if she’s drank their blood; Twice can create multiple copies of himself; you get the picture. there’re some weird ones out there. Mine’s a sick fucking joke, considering it’s what killed me in the first place, but it’s powerful, so I can’t complain too much.”

“Oh.” You mumble, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s telling you, but you know you’re failing miserably. You’re not worried about him killing you, but you still don’t understand why he’s telling you all this.

“So… you don’t want to kill me.” You clarify gently. Dabi only shakes his head.

“No. Wouldn’t have bothered tell you all that if I did.” He confirms softly.

“Then what do you want with me?” you ask him again. Dabi sighs.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that I like you princess.” He tells you with the faintest hint of a smirk, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. “—and I know you like me too.” He adds after a pause.

Your mouth twitches and you nod slowly before looking away. “I do, it’s just... this is a lot to take in.”

A thought occurs to you suddenly, an awful thought. One that you wish you didn’t think of, but now that you have, you have to ask.

“All those people… the missing ones from the boardwalk… that was you, wasn’t it?”

His silence is telling.

“Oh my god Dabi…” you whisper, running a hand through your hair as you let out a breathless laugh. “There’s so many people… how long have you been doing this for?”

“To be fair, not all of them were me.” He corrects you, but his answer lacks any of his usual fire. “There are five other vampires here. I can’t drain over a hundred people by myself. Besides, I don’t need much to survive. I can go two or three weeks without feeding, but the longer I go without blood, the worse the thirst is.”

“Over a hundred?” you sputter. You think back to all the faces you’d seen posted on the bulletin board. Some postings had been quite old while others had been days old, and there had probably been more before them – many more.

“Like I said; we’ve been here a long time. We never get old, and we basically never die… but we have to feed. That’s the trade off.” Dabi tells you solemnly.

“We normally try to go for people who won’t be missed; drunks, the occasional asshole who pisses us off… and some piece of shit abusers.” He growls ominously, and you know that he’s referring to your ex without him having to say it.

“… But some people just end up coming across us at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He admits after a moment. “We try to be selective about who we feed off of, but if we’re starving, we have to feed, otherwise we would go feral.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” you hate that you have to ask him, but you need to know. “To feed off of?”

“Hell no.” Dabi reaffirms. “Of course not. Your blood smells incredible, and I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought about drinking from you...” He bites his burnt lower lip as you visibly cringe in front of him, before quickly adding: “But I’m not going to feed off you. I enjoy having you around too much. You’re different from the other humans I’m forced to be around. Besides, I’m not hungry anyways.”

You try not to read too much into that.

“So then what are your plans for me?” you finally ask, as you pull one of the blankets you were laying on over your legs. “Why bother telling me any of this? Do… do the others know I’m here?”

“They know. If you’re worried about them getting at you, they won’t. They’d have to go through me, and I’m not someone they want to fight anyways. I’d light their asses up if they got within ten feet of you. But they don’t want you harmed either, so don’t worry about them.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Dabi scoffs. “Shigaraki isn’t happy that I brought you back here, but he’s a miserable bastard on a good day. I couldn’t very well leave you back at your place anyways.”

“So then what happens now?” you ask quietly. “I don’t think things can go back to the way they were before.”

Dabi shakes his head; his ivory spikes sway sightly at the motion. “No. They can’t. I figured if I brought you back here and tried to explain what was going on, you’d understand at least a little. I wouldn’t have bothered saving you from that piece of shit if I didn’t somewhat care for you, you know.” 

“I know.” You pause before averting your eyes, and mumbling bashfully; “Thank you for saving my life. I have no idea what he was going to do with me, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I was… so scared.” You admit as you drop your gaze to your hands.

You ex had never acted like that before in the past – even when things were at an all-time low between you, he’d never physically assaulted you. The look he’d had in his eyes could’ve fooled you into thinking he was possessed by a demon. You don’t want to think about what would’ve happened had Dabi not intervened.

At your silence, Dabi stands from his spot and slowly makes his way over to you, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted, but you let him approach. He cautiously kneels on the bed in front of you, and slowly takes your hands in his large, scarred ones.

“Look;” he tells you softly, but firmly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I like you. There’s something about you I find irresistible – and it’s got nothing to do with how I find the smell of your blood intoxicating either. I want you to stay… with me, that is.”

You feel yourself soften at his admission and he groans in the back of his throat, squeezing your hands. “Look. I’m not good at this shit. I’ve been around a long time and I’ve never been good at it – never needed to be – but ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to keep you all to myself.” He bites out a laugh at his admission.

“It’s selfish of me to say that; especially considering everything that happened with your ex – but you make me want to be.” He licks his lips before quietly admitting;

“I may be a monster, but I certainly won’t treat you like one.”

You mull over his words for a moment. His eyes convey nothing but sincerity, and you find yourself believing what he’s saying to you. You squeeze his hands back.

“I feel the same way about you.” You admit, watching as a variety of emotions flicker through his eyes. Shock. Surprise. Acceptance, and something else you couldn’t quite place—

“Can I kiss you? He suddenly blurts out. You blink, realizing he’d gradually gotten closer to you, invading your space and crowding you in. If it’d had been anyone else, you’d be uncomfortable with how close they were to you; but it’s Dabi, and even with the knowledge of what he was, you don’t feel anything but calm.

Odd, considering you’d watched him murder a man right in front of you not too long ago – but even knowing that, you know he won’t hurt you.

You nod, your eyes slipping closed, and he leans in and presses his two-toned lips to your own. The texture of his lips is unlike anything you’ve ever felt; his upper lip is soft while his bottom lip is rough and chapped from the burns, but the contrast is nice, and you feel yourself sigh into the kiss, giving him further access to your mouth. The scarred man takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, as you feel his hands leave your own to cradle either side of your face. You realize how big his hands are when you feel his fingers splay out across your lower jaw and sweep over the pulse point in your neck, keeping you tethered to him as you fist your hands in his shirt.

You only pull back when air becomes too much of a necessity, but not before you boldly run your tongue over the too-sharp teeth hidden in his mouth, causing Dabi to laugh slightly as he watches you regain your breath. His hands never leave the sides of your face, as you reach up to cover the backs of his stapled covered hands with your smaller ones.

“You’re playing a dangerous game sweetheart.” he chuckles, slowly rubbing circles onto your face with his fingertips. “Keep doing that, and I really won’t be able to control myself around you.”

His statement makes you blush and you squeeze his hands. “Dabi I—"

“Touya.”

“What—?”

“Touya. My real name. It’s Touya.” He tells you breathlessly. “You asked me when we first met what my real name was. It’s Touya. Just call me Touya.”

“Touya.” You test his real name out gently, and a pleased rumble escapes the back of his throat.

“Fuck, it sounds good coming from you.” He tells you, eyes half-lidded. “Really good.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as he closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips to your own, only this time, he’s bolder and allows his hands to wander down your body until they settle on your hips, hot as a brand.

“Shit.” You murmur as you wrap your arms around his neck. Touya chuckles against your lips before tilting his head so his head his mouth is right next to your ear.

“If you want to keep going, just know I’m not going to stop.” He rasps as he squeezes your hips. “I won’t force you, but if you don’t want to then you have to tell me now—”

You cut him off by turning your head and pressing your lips to his again, prompting him to pull you closer until you’re practically straddling his lap.

“Fuck.” He snarls as he shifts and pins you down on his bed. “Here I was trying to be nice. Trying to be good for you, but you had to go and rile me up—”

“Touya.” You whimper as you feel something hard pressing into your inner thigh. “Touya please. Don’t tease.”

“Fuck sweetheart, I know. Don’t worry I’m going to take care of you.” He hisses as he paws at your shirt. “Fucking—take this shit off. I want to see you.”

He helps strip you out of your clothes in record time, and suddenly you find yourself bare before him. You move to cover your exposed breasts but Touya swiftly pins your hands. He doesn’t bother to try and hide his unapologetic gaze as he takes in the sight of your naked body on his bed.

He looks at you as if you’re a work of art, you realize, and he seems to be completely lost in you. You call out to him gently, snapping him out of whatever trance he’s fallen under.

“I can’t believe you’re letting someone like me do this to someone like you.” He admits. “Even after I told you what I am. After you’ve seen what I can do. What I’ve done.” He shakes his head, but his eyes light up as a wicked smirk overtakes his features, allowing his fangs to peak out from under his lip.

“Think you might be as fucked up as me, pretty girl. No woman in their right mind would let a monster like me fuck them after watching me kill their shitbag ex. You’re a sick little thing, aren’t you?” he teases you, but you only shake your head.

“You’re not a monster.” You tell him sincerely. “I don’t think you are.”

Touya only smiles down at you as he touches his forehead to yours. “Think you might be the only person in the world who thinks that sweetheart, but thank you.”

You fist your hand in his bloodied shirt. “Take this off.” You tell him, and for the first time, he hesitates slightly.

“It’s not pretty underneath.” He warns you. “The burns go all the way down.”

You help him out of his shirt in response.

He’s not wrong: his torso is a mosaic of dark purple burns and staples crossing over his shoulders, stomach and back. His legs aren’t much better once you shimmy his pants down his legs, but you couldn’t care less once you see his cock.

It’s beautiful and pale like the rest of his unmarred skin, it’s a good length, and decently thick. The tip is flushed red and you can’t help but swallow in anticipation as he kneels between your legs again. Touya grins as he hovers over you.

“I can hear your heart about to burst out of your chest princess. You might wanna calm down; don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Shut up.” You mumble sheepishly, prompting him to laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve—well…”

Touya chuckles at your hesitance. “Me too.” He admits, and for some reason, it makes you feel better. Touya’s eyes rake down your exposed form, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drags his eyes up to your neck. “You smell so good.”

“Do you want to?” you ask breathlessly, turning your head slightly to the side. “I could let you—”

“No, not yet.” Touya murmurs, bending down to kiss you. “Let me try something.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him what he means before he’s bent down between your legs, and licking a long stripe through the middle of your pussy with the flat of his tongue.

You let out a load moan and throw your head back as he begins to lap at your pussy like a man starved, his large hands hold your thighs open as he licks at your center. You whimper and moan as he eats you out with vigor – your cries only increasing in volume as he introduces his fingers to where you need him most.

He starts with one pushing deep into your core, but it isn’t long before he’s adding a second digit, scissoring you open as he eats you out like he’s biting into a ripe fruit, and you feel divine.

It’s not long before you feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you close your eyes as you prepare to fall – only for your eyes to suddenly snap open as you feel something sharp digging into your inner thigh. You bolt up with a gasp only to see your vampire’s fangs buried in the meat of your thigh as he continues to pump his long fingers in and out of you.

Your blood dribbles down his chin as he continues to suck on you – moaning around your leg – and some sick part of your brain thinks it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You reach down and fist your hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly and watch his eyes close as he groans something that sounds suspiciously like “harder.”

His fingers brush up against your sweet spot when you tug on the blood-streaked strands again, and you buck up into his hand, causing him to stroke the spot again and again has he drinks your blood. You’re getting light-headed and you can’t tell if it’s from your impending orgasm or the blood loss, before Touya pulls away from your leg, and twists his fingers just right, causing you to fall over the edge with a loud gasp as you feel yourself come undone.

“Fuck me.” You hear Touya snarl, and suddenly he’s looming over you again, caging you in with both his arms on either side of you, mouth dripping red with your blood. He grins down at you sadistically, elongated fangs streaked red with your blood. “That’s so fucking hot.”

You only moan in response as you feel for the puncture wounds he’s left in your thigh, but he swats your hand away as he lines himself in with your entrance. He pins both of your hands above your head with his free hand, and swoops down to press a heated kiss to your neck before slamming himself home – filling you up in one fluid motion.

You feel your back arch off the bed, and your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ as you struggle to adjust to his size. Above you, Touya hisses, as he struggles to keep himself in check.

“I can feel you squeezing down on me.” He pants. “You keep doing that, I’m not going to last long.” He warns you, but you shake your head.

“Don’t care. I just—I just want to feel you Touy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s moving within you. His movements are deep and deliberate, leaving your breathless as he snaps his hips against yours at a brutal pace. He’s relentless, almost as if he’s trying to make a home for himself in your depths. You notice that his pupils are dilating and shrinking rapidly as he struggles to hold himself back break completely breaking you.

“Fuuuck.” The white-haired vampire groans as he slides his hand down to your hip, holding you in place as he pounds into your gummy walls. “You’re perfect. I knew you would be. I wanted you. I wanted you from the moment I smelled your blood. I’m glad I didn’t—” he cuts his ramblings off, and buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you moan his name.

You feel his fangs ghosting along your neck, and it brings you back to reality. You weakly tap at his hand holding both of yours prisoner with your fingers, and he quickly releases you. You opt to wrap your arms around his burnt neck – being mindful of the staples holding his skin together – trying to keep him as close as possible, as his other hand finds your free hip, and grips you hard enough that you know you’ll have handshape bruises by the time you’re done.

But that doesn’t matter, not when he’s trying his damnedest to rearrange your insides.

“I’m close.” You murmur in his burnt ear, and he grunts in acknowledgment.

“Me too.” He rumbles, pressing his warm body to yours. “Need you to come for me doll. Need to feel it—” he sneakily reaches down to rub at your clit, and that does you in. 

You come with a choked scream and he follows you with an almost feral snarl. You feel his cock twitch and are rewarded by the warm stream of his dead seed deep within you. It’s too much stimulation, and you try to move away, but he follows you, holding you down with his body weight. You feel the press of his fangs like a whisper against your neck, but he doesn’t bite down, much to your surprise.

You stay glued together for what feels like an eternity, only for him to pull out of your body with a huff and flop down next to you on his bed. He doesn’t go far though, and opts to pull you close to his scar-ridden body so you’re practically laying on top of his chest; not that you mind though.

It’s funny, now that you’re so close to him – it’s only now that you realize he doesn’t have a heartbeat.

It should be concerning. It should have you running for the hills. You should be panicking at the knowledge of the literal undead roaming around, draining unsuspecting victims of their life blood – and while you’re still not sure what to think of the last part – you also know the vampire next to you wouldn’t hurt you. He’s protected you in his own gory way, and while you know you probably shouldn’t; you feel safe around him.

You trace the seams of his scars, and feel him hum contentedly in the back of his throat as he shifts you slightly against him. Peering at the dark window coverings, you can see the faint traces of dawn light trying to break through. Touya follows your gaze through heavily lidded eyes.

“Guess you’re staying here doll; I’m not going out in that. I’ll take you home later.”

“What, so you can make me do the walk of shame in front of your roommates?” you ask him, causing him to laugh.

“They won’t say anything. Not if they don’t want to get turned to ash.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and flashes his fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the low candle-light. You tap them hesitantly.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Bite me. You could’ve.”

“Your leg says otherwise sweetheart.”

“Not that.” You brush him off. “I mean my neck. I know you wanted to. I could feel you.”

Touya exhales loudly through his pierced nose. “I did.” He admits. “The problem is, if I did, I probably wouldn’t stop.”

“Ah.”

You lapse into silence for a moment more, before you go back to tracing seams of his broken skin. “Can you turn people? Into what you are?”

He only nods, closing his eyes gently. “I can.” He confirms. “Never done it before though. Never had the need or want to.”

You feel your heart speed up in your chest, and you know he must be able to hear it as you force yourself to ask; “What would you do, if I asked you to turn me one day?” Touya only chuckles.  

“I’d turn you into my own personal thrall. Keep you by my side.”

“Oh, so like some sort of slave?” you tease weakly, but Touya only shakes his head with a slight grimace.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a Dracula’s Bride sort of arrangement actually. I wouldn’t put you through the shit I went through when I first turned.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air between you, but he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You twist and prop yourself up on your elbow so you’re looking him dead in his eyes, only to see he’s deadly serious, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“You mean that?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” he tells you gruffly, placing one of his large hands on your head and pushing you back down to his chest. “Don’t ask me shit like that unless you’re actually serious though. It’s a one-way street. The change is permanent. You’re this forever.” He warns you.

He must see the hesitation in your eyes, because his voice softens, and the hand that’s currently holding your head down switches to lightly combing through your hair.

“Live your life for now sweetheart. My offer still stands: If you really want to toss your mortality out the window. I’ll be the one to take it from you. But for now, just think about it. You can give me your answer when you’re ready.”

“…and what if I decide I’m never ready?”

Touya chuckles. “Then you’ll have my undead ass as a boyfriend when you’re an old lady up until the day you die.”

“A boyfriend huh?” you tease, grinning up at him softly. He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I just told you I’d make you my thrall, that’s all you’re getting from me pretty girl.”

“You basically said you’d make me your wife. Dracula’s bride, remember?”

Touya rolls his eyes, and you swear you see the faintest dusting of pink flash across the parts of his cheeks that aren’t brunt, but it’s gone as soon as it came, prompting you to giggle, and you both fall into a comfortable silence.

He squeezes you once after a heartbeat. “I’d take care of you, you know; if you wanted me to turn you. I’ll take care of you now, but I’ll look after you if and when you decide you want me to change you. You know my secret so you’re stuck with me now. It’s not like I can let you go. You don’t have a choice.”

You laugh in spite of yourself and snuggle closer to him. “I could think of worse things.”

“You say that now…”

“and I’ll mean it later.” You tell him as you reach up to stroke the burnt flesh of his jaw. “Really, I do.”

You feel Touya press a light kiss to the crown of your head, “Yeah I know.” He confirms, murmuring into your hair. “Now, sleep. I’ll take you back to your place once the sun has set. We’ll figure out what to say to your landlord about the scorch marks I left behind. Worse comes to worse, you can just move in here with me.”

You feel your eyelids droop at his words and you snuggle into his burnt flesh, trying your best not to apply any more added pressure to the sutures keeping him together, as you feel his arms settle at your waist, keeping you close to him.

You weren’t sure what the future held for you now, but you were sure that whatever it decided to throw your way, your vampire wouldn’t be far behind you.  

FIN

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x you #touya x y/n #vampire!au #vampire!dabi #smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader smut #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: cigarettes #tw: smoking #tw: death #see a03 for more detailed tags

[thebadgerclan]

Reunited

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sister!reader, Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: After 15 years, you are reunited with your brother...

Part 2 to “Sister”

A/N: I appreciate all the love that “Sister” got, but I will be capping this at 2 parts.  School is, unfortunately, more important than fanfiction 😂❤

Also yes I made Wesper married, I fucked with canon enough, enjoy

The King of Ravka watched as you shrugged off your silk dressing gown and joined him in bed, opening his arms to you.  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” you said, extinguishing the lamp on your bedside table.  “My brother’s coming to town.”  Nikolai raised a brow.  “He is?  Why?”  “Apparently he and his friends have been hired for a job.  A job they need my assistance for.”  The King cocked his head as you snuggled into his chest.  “What kind of job?”  “All I know is that they need to get into the Religious Archives alone.  Beyond that, I have no idea.”

You’d told your husband about your brothers, about Hertzoon, how you’d come to Ravka shortly after your wedding.  It was only thanks to Nikolai, well, thanks to Sturmhond, that you’d been able to locate your brother and contact him.  Over the span of several months, you and Kaz had caught up on the 15 years of lost time, learned everything you’d missed on.  You’d discovered that your eldest brother, Jordie, had not survived, that Kaz had risen to prominence in the Barrel and was set on bringing Rollins, the man who had masqueraded as Jakob Hertzoon, to his knees.

And Kaz had learned that you were Queen of Ravka.  Part of him seethed with jealousy: you’d been brought up in the lap of luxury while he’d had to fight for every scrap, every penny, but he supposed he couldn’t be angry at you for that.  And your position had turned out to be a boon to he and his Crows; giving him a way into the Religious Archives.  As soon as Kaz had received the letter confirming you’d help, he’d gathered his flock and set off for Ravka.

***

“You’re fussing.”  “I am not fussing.”  “Yes, you are, my love.”  Nikolai took your hands, pulling them from where you’d been fidgeting with your hair, drawing your attention to him.  “I haven’t seen my brother in 15 years,” you said, letting your nerves bubble over.  “I don’t even know what he looks like now, let alone what he’s like.  Saints, I don’t even know wha-”  “Hey, hey,” your husband soothed, kissing your forehead.  “Take a breath, lovely.

“I know that you’re nervous, and I know that you’re a little bit scared, but I promise you that everything will be alright.  He’s your brother, and even though it’s been a long time, that hasn’t changed.  Just be yourself, Y/N, he’ll love you.”  Before you could respond, before your thoughts could spiral, the doors to the receiving chambers opened.  

“Presenting Mister Kaz Brekker, Miss Inej Ghafa, Mister Jesper Fahey, Mister Wylan Fahey, Miss Nina Zenik, and Mister Matthias Helvar.”  Your brother and his companions entered, and the guard bowed to you.  “His Most Royal Majesty, Nikolai Lantsov, and Her Most Royal Majesty, Queen Y/N Lantsov.”  With another bow, the guard departed, leaving the eight of you alone.

“It’s really you,” Kaz said, both to you and himself.  Gone was the little girl from Lij, afraid of the bustle of Ketterdam.  In her place stood a woman; a regal, beautiful woman, clothed in sky blue silk and diamonds, a Queen.  “It is,” you said, a tearful smile on your face.  When you stepped forward, arms extended, hoping for an embrace, your brother stepped back, drawing a sharp breath.  At once, you recalled one of his letters: Since that night on the Barge, I can’t bear to touch anyone.  Every time I brush against someone, I’m right back there with Jordie.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, quickly composing yourself.  “These must be your friends you’ve told me all about.”  Kaz cleared his throat.  “Yes.  Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, and Matthias.”  Nina was the only one who dipped into a curtsey; as she was the only one who recognized you as her Queen.  “Please, sit.  I gather we have much to discuss.”  Nikolai seated himself with you on a loveseat, and your brother and his Crows gathered around.  Your husband and Jesper fell into easy conversation, and you smiled when he took your hand.

“So Kaz,” you said, clearing your throat.  “Tell me about this job in the archives.”  “A Shu priest claims that the remains of one of Sankt Kho’s clockwork soldiers resided in the archives,” he said.  “We’ve been tasked with returning it.”  You nodded, rising to pour yourself tea.  “There are indeed remains here, but whether they’re authentic is unclear.  Only a highly skilled Durast could tell, and even then it’s not certain.”

Kaz nodded, slowly spinning his cane between his hands.  “The priest said as much.  We’ve been guaranteed payment even if the remains aren’t genuine.”  “That’s all well and good, but how do you plan to conceal the fact that you’re taking the remains?  Those Archives are open to the public, people will notice their absence.”  Your brother rolled his eyes.  “If only I’d thought of that.  Jesper.”

The lanky Zemini stood and opened the satchel as his side, showing you what lay within.  “I happen to have  Durast on my team,” Kaz said.  “One who has become rather proficient in replication.  It’s not perfect, but to a casual viewer, even a monk, it’s identical.  If the clockwork soldier’s remains are real, then you have a nearly perfect replica.  If they’re a fake, then you’ve got yourself a new fake.”

You nodded.  This wasn’t the first heist your brother and his team had pulled off, you knew, but it was fascinating to watch his mind at work.  “Very well.  I can get you in at 10 bells tonight, but you have to be out by 1 bell.”  Kaz nodded.  “Done.”  You rose and called for a servant, who entered an instant later.  “Please show Miss Ghafa, Miss Zenik, Mister Helvar, and the Misters Fahey to rooms where they can rest.  I wish to speak to Mister Brekker.”  “Of course, moya tsaritsa.”

When it was just you, Kaz, and Nikolai, you resumed your seat.  Your husband sensed your nervousness and took your hand, kissing it softly.  “Did you ever think about me?” you asked, your gaze in your lap.  “After I left?”  “Of course I did,” your brother replied.  “Every single day, Y/N.  You and Jordie.  I swore that I’d get revenge for you, and maybe with this job, I’ll be one step closer.”  You lifted you face to find Kaz looking at you, and for a moment, it was like you were back in Ketterdam.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered.  “You have suffered so much, and I…”  You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.  “I grew up with every privilege, anything and everything I could ever want.  But I never forgot about you, Kaz.  Or Jordie.  Even when I didn’t know if you’d survived, I prayed for you.  To the Saints, to Ghezen, to anyone who’d listen.  And I am so, so sorry for everything you’ve gone through, and if I’d known, I’d ha-”

“Y/N,” Kaz said, leaning across the space between you and taking your hand.  You froze, knowing how much effort this was likely taking him.  “Y/N, you don’t have to apologize to me.  What happened to us, to me, no one could have stopped it.  Yes, I’ve suffered, but I’ve also fought for what I have.  And I’m so damn grateful that you didn’t have to suffer, that you didn’t have to fight.  Look at you; happy and healthy, a husband who loves you, you’re a Queen.  And if an ounce of my suffering bought you this happiness, then I am glad to have done it.”

Cautiously, you took his hand in both of yours, and while he squeezed his eyes shut, he did not pull away.  “Kaz, I–”  “You’re still my baby sister, Y/N,” he interrupted.  “Queen or not.  And I will do whatever I can to protect my baby sister.”  “By 1 year!” you said, and your brother laughed.  You and Kaz rose at once, and to your great surprise, he pulled you into his arms.  “I love you,” he said.  “Sister, I love you.”  “I love you too, Kaz,” you replied, tears spilling over.

When you broke the embrace, Nikolai extended a hand, which Kaz took, clasping it for a bare second.  “You know,” your husband said.  “If you ever want to get rid of this ‘Pekka Rollins’, I might be able to help with that.”  Kaz cocked his head.  “How so?”  “Well, he is indirectly responsible for your brother’s death, am I right?”  A nod.  “In that case, he’s responsible for the death of the Queen of Ravka’s brother, which is punishable by life imprisonment.”

Kaz nodded.  “I appreciate the offer,” he said, adjusting his hold in his cane.  “But when Pekka Rollins is brought down, I want it to be at my hand.  For Jordie.”  He looked at you, smiling softly.  “And for Y/N.”  Nikolai nodded.  “Very well.  But should you change your mind, the offer still stands.”  “I’ll keep that in mind.”  Your brother and husband exchanged a few more words before the former departed, leaving you and Nikolai in the receiving chamber.  “Do you think they’ll pull it off?” he asked, draping an arm over your shoulder.  “He’s Kaz Brekker,” you responded.  “Of course he will.”

#kaz brekker x reader #platonic ship #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone reader insert

[bagopucks]

Q. Hughes - Wildest Storms

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): anxiety/panic attack, mentioned kidnapping, Mentioned therapy? Is that considered a trigger? I’m still learning.

—————————————

“I love you! We’ll be back around twelve, I promise!”

Quinn promised…

I never told Quinn no to anything when his team won a game. The Canucks always seemed to be struggling, and Quinn was always tense. So on the occasions when he did win, and when he felt on top of the world, I never held him back.

Some nights after a big win, Quinn would spend copious amounts of time with me. He’d come straight home and we’d sit and talk for hours, splurge in bed on snacks we shouldn’t before sleeping, or hop in a bath together to relax. My sleep schedule was never the greatest, so it was natural for me to be up past one am. Especially when Quinn was playing hockey, or out of town for a road trip.

Other nights however, Quinn would come home, change, kiss me and ask if he could go out, and then off he went.

Usually I was good with Quinn leaving and being out past midnight. He was responsible, and loyal. If he was having fun, I saw no reason to stop him. But this night in particular just seemed to be going wrong.

I’d had a therapy appointment earlier in the day. Usually they leave me tense and sometimes emotional depending on the conversational topics that are discussed. But I went to therapy for my anxiety, so each discussion was a simple reminder of all I had to worry about in my life. After my appointments, I liked to call Quinn or I would return home to rest with him for a few hours. But he had a practice that had been pushed to the middle of the day due to a bad snowstorm. By the time I got home, I assumed he was already on the ice and prepping with his team for the game this evening.

I had no lifeline but myself.. and my mind was never as helpful as it ought to be. I spent all day ruminating in my thoughts, going through the motions in a blur. The only thing to break my anxious trance had been Quinn calling to say he wouldn’t make it home before the game. I did get a bit irritated, but I tried not to let my frustrations out on him. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

I spent my evening watching the game and eating a bowl of soup. The dark cloud of anxiety that loomed over me only thickened throughout the day, and I knew I was liable to dry heaving in the midst of anxiety or panic attacks. So I tried not to eat anything that would have been hard on my stomach.

The game was used as a distraction. And admittedly it had been a good one, until I got a text alert on my phone about a local kidnapping. They didn’t happen often, but the eerie text tone that accompanied it always made my stomach drop.

After that, I spiraled. I tried to watch the Canucks game, but my mind was hyper focused, and my senses were tuned in to every little thing in the apartment around me. The wind outside was whipping, another snowfall painting the once cleared roads with another coat of white. It was pitch black out, and pitch black in our apartment aside from the tv illuminating the living area.

A sense of dread washed over me, so heavy that I never noticed the game had been over. The Canucks had won, and it was the end of a horrible losing streak. My eyes shot toward the door when I heard the handle move, drawing in a sharp gasp as I scrambled off the couch, just in time for the door to open and a whole group of guys come barreling in. Led by my boyfriend, his hair slightly damp from a shower, dressed in the suit he’d left in around lunch.

“We won!” He sounded so happy, but my ears began ringing when everybody started shouting too, scattering about our apartment for who knows what.

“Quinn..” his name quivered off my lips, too quiet for him to hear across the room. Quinn immediately made his way over, snatching me up in a tight hug that made me feel like I was suffocating. “Quinn-“ I repeated his name in a choked out manner. As he pulled back, his smile remained. I tried to stop the shaking in my hands as I reached out to grab his arms.

“I’m gonna go out, okay?”

He promised he’d be back.

It’s past two am now, and I’m shaking in the corner of my apartment, pressed against the living room wall. I deemed it the best place to see everything in case somebody came in the door or out from behind a wall. In the bedroom I would have been cornered, same as the bathroom. The kitchen didn’t give me proper sight of the door, and the closet.. well that was just a dumb idea. My hands were resting on the floor. At first I found comfort in the chill from the wood tile, but at some point the chill was replaced by my body heat. My hands were clammy from sweat, and my heart was racing.

I felt like I was in the midst of some intense workout. My mind was racing, causing that dread to fall upon my shoulders again. The clouds of anxiety above my head had finally begun to rain. My thoughts were too heavy for them to hold any longer.

What if Quinn wasn’t okay? What if he was drunk and his friends left him alone? Oh god, what if somebody took him? What if somebody was coming to take me? I would have felt safer with Quinn around.. where was Quinn?

Heavy tears began to flow down my cheeks. I was shaking, but frozen in place. Emotional, and yet disconnected from my reality at the same time. Sounds and movements I’d once been hyper focused on, were now going unnoticed. My flight response had kicked in, but by that point, my mind had shut down too much to actually fly away. I was a mess of emotion on my living room floor. I was going to die.

The door opened for the second time that night, and I felt my heart drop. I began sobbing, shaking endlessly as that familiar turn in my stomach made me shoot off the floor. I was going to throw up. I didn’t notice Quinn sprinting across the room to grab me as I stood and collapsed directly into his arms.

“No!” I pushed against him violently, punching and flailing every limb to fight off my attacker.

Quinn held me tighter.

“Baby! Baby.. hey, everything’s okay!” Quinn could sense my distress, trying to keep my trembling body from losing its balance while he leaned his head in next to my ear.

When I heard his voice, the realization that I wasn’t being snatched up had dawned on me. I collapsed against his chest, my legs practically falling slack as I began to sob into Quinn’s body. My cries shook my own body, back rising and falling at a sporadic pace while Quinn tried to hold onto me and drag me to the couch.

“Baby..” he cooed, dropping carefully onto the couch. I fell into it with him, finding myself in his lap as he tried to situate me in a good spot. My cries never ceased, but they did quiet as Quinn stroked my back with one hand and ran the other through my hair.

“I’m right here..”

“I’m not headed anywhere.”

“This is just your anxiety,”

“You’re safe.”

“I’ll protect you.”

Quinn always knew. He never called my fears irrational or stupid, but in times when it was hard for me to differentiate normal concerns against anxious ones, he was always there to remind me. Always there to assure I wasn’t dying or having a heart attack, and that it was all my body’s response to something in my head.

“Quinn..” I whispered shakily against his chest, hearing him hum to acknowledge me.

“You’re okay, baby.” He slowly moved from beneath me, “I’ll be right back.” This caused another bit of dread to form in my gut.

“No,” I sobbed, my body leaning against the couch, helpless as I watched my boyfriend whisk away into the kitchen. He came back moments later with an ice pack and a bottle of water, which he placed on the coffee table.

“See? Im right here.” Quinn shrugged off his suit jacket, tucking a hand between my shoulder and the couch cushion to push me upright. He draped the jacket over my shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to my head as he did so.

The warmth of the jacket was the last thing I needed, but the scent shift from my perfume to his cologne helped calm me somewhat. The tears still flowed down my cheeks, but I felt I had a slightly better grip on my surroundings.

“Take a sip?” Quinn grabbed the water bottle and twisted the cap off, tossing it into the coffee table. He sat down and held the bottle out, though when I reached for it, my hand was still shaking. A quiet cry escaped my lips at the realization that I couldn’t do something as simple as holding a water bottle.

“No worries,” he spoke softly, assuring me it was fine as he set the bottle down on the table, exchanging it for the ice pack. “We’ll just try the ice pack for now.” He slowly moved in, resting his back against the couch and gesturing for me to lean into him. I did, scooting over next to Quinn and resting my back against his arm and half of his chest. One of my hands came down to grip the thigh closest to me.

“You’re my favorite girl in the whole wide world,” Quinn whispered as he wrapped an arm around me, carefully resting the ice pack on my leg. The sensation was distracting, as was the strategic statement about me being his favorite girl. I thought his mother was.

“What’s my hockey number?” I rested my head against Quinn’s shoulder as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Forty three..” my voice still quivered, but it sounded more firm than before. I had a grip on pieces of my reality now.

“That was an easy one,” he teased softly in response. “Whats my favorite pair of shoes?”

I had to roll my eyes at him. “Dumbass fuzzy slippers…” I spoke. That was our ‘matching ensemble’ one Christmas. Warm, fuzzy slippers. They didn’t count as shoes in my book, but he wore them all the time around the apartment or at the lake house.

Quinn managed a quiet chuckle, the movement of his chest and the sound of his deep laugh causing another wave of anxiety to settle.

“When did we say our first I Love You’s?” Quinn moved the ice pack to my shoulder. I let out a quiet sigh, then sniffled. I carefully reached up to rub the tears from my eyes as a sad smile formed on my lips.

“When we took Tyler’s son to the aquarium..” my grip on Quinn’s thigh eased.

“And what do you remember?”

“I remember you,” I paused for another sniffle. “You couldn’t get him to walk away from the puffer fish. You tried to pick him up, and he got a little mad.” A little was a vast understatement, and we both knew it, causing us to laugh softly together.

“You wanna know what I remember?” Quinn asked, and I nodded, slowly picking my head up and turning to look at him, draping my legs over his lap.

“I remember watching you take him down the little tunnel where you could stand in the turtle enclosure. And I remember watching you pick him up and hold him on your hip.. and thinking how much I love you. And how much you’re gonna make a great mother some day.”

My heart fluttered at Quinn’s words, but this type didn’t make me panicky or anxious. I smiled at him. Quinn carefully pulled the ice pack off my shoulder, tossing it onto the couch behind me.

“And I remember saying how much I love you when you guys got back.” Quinn reached to cup my cheek in his hand. “All of you. Every single part of you.” He smiled at the sight of my own.

I leaned in to press my forehead against his own, sighing softly.

“Thank you Quinn,” relief finally flooded my voice. He pulled back slowly, nodding.

“I’m always here for you. You’re my girl, I’ll take care of you no matter what.” Quinn rested a hand on one of my knees as he leaned forward to grab the once forgotten water bottle.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, holding the bottle out. This time I took it with a steady hand.

“I had soup.. but if you pop something in the oven I might snack on it.” I could tell by the smile forming on his lips, that he knew what I wanted. A warm pizza.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow.” Usually Quinn would suggest a nap after a panic attack, but if I didn’t eat before sleeping, I’d wake up with a headache. Another reason to be miserable.

“Put a pepperoni one in,” I spoke before taking a sip of water. Quinn rolled his eyes at me and laughed.

“Adventurous,” he teased, making me giggle softly. “Do you want to rest here, or come with me?” He slowly moved my legs from his lap.

“I’ll come with.” I sniffed again, slowly standing up with Quinn. He reached for my free hand, intertwining our fingers as we ventured into the kitchen. We spent a good few hours talking about the hockey game and other little topics over pizza. We never made it to the table though after it came out of the oven. We simply stood, leaning over the kitchen island side by side, giggling and whispering back and forth like teenagers. Only I could make Quinn act like a child, and only he could calm my wildest storms.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes

[shadowkoo]

A Sweet Mistake

→ Summary: Your boyfriend texts you something rather surprising that sends you spiraling through past memories.

↠ yeosang x f.reader | 1.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, meet ugly au, (there’s also a dash of fluff bc why not)

→ Prompts: #32. “I dare you.” + #48. Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

→ Warnings: getting dumped via text, praise, being called a good girl (bc you are duh), talking on the phone while being fingered, Yeosang is kinda depicted as an dumb asshole but you’ll forgive me (and him) by the end lol

→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting @anyamaris I hope you enjoy! Learn more about my mini requests here. As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

Your phone dings, drawing your attention away from the book you’ve been devouring for the last hour. You blink several times before staring at the text you just received in total disbelief.

[ From Y♡ at 3:15 PM ]

‘I think we should break up’

A few seconds later another message pops up.

‘I’m sorry’

Your heart races as you reread both. He can’t be serious. No way. After how you spent all evening together? The fresh memory floods your mind…

- Flashback begins -

Yeosang smirks as his fingers curl inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Wait, wait!” you rush as you reach for your ringing phone, “That’s my boss's ringtone.”

“Go on, answer it.” His eyes flare, “I dare you.”

You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you do. And at that very same moment, his lips find their way around your already sensitive clit.

“H-Hello,” you answer shakily, “Yes Ma’am, your schedule? It’s been confirmed and emailed to you. Uh-huh. Yes, okay. Will do.” You answer your boss's questions quickly and silence your moans with a hand over your mouth as she rambles on about flights for her upcoming trip.

Your breath catches in your throat as the heat grows hotter in your lower belly, you’re almost there.

Yeosang groans as your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before licking you right where you need him. “Let go for me, baby.”

“I’ll look into it and get back to you!” you rush out, quickly hanging up before she’s suspicious, and come undone onto your boyfriend's fingers and mouth, leaving behind a soft sheen of your release.

“That’s my good girl. I love you.”

- Flashback ends -

And that was just the start of the night. So what changed between then and now? He suddenly doesn’t love you anymore?

That thought sends a sharp pain directly to your chest and tears well in your eyes while you type a message back to him.

[ Sent at 3:30 PM ]

‘Why??? What’s going on?’

[ From Y♡ at 3:31 PM ]

‘I just think it’s for the best…’

‘I’ll come by your place later to pick up my things.’

So his mind is already made up. It’s a good thing that your workday is almost over. You need to go home and cry. Maybe you’ll doordash some dinner and ice cream too. You certainly deserve it.

The ride home on the train is quick, and thankfully no one pays any attention to you as tears fall silently. And before you know it, you’re staring at a box half full of things that belong to Yeosang.

Your fingers play with the bracelet around your wrist, the one he bought you for your three-month anniversary. Its charms are a sun, strawberry, and pie slice, all of which are a small reminder of the day you first met.

- Second flashback begins -

The soft spring sunshine tickles your skin as you walk to the train station in the mid-morning light. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and it seems like it’s going to be a good day.

You smile. Not just a good day, a great day.

All of those happy thoughts come quickly crashing down when something from above smacks onto your head, easily knocking you down to the ground.

You gasp after the sudden impact. “Ow. What the fuck?” Your fingers reach up and touch something gooey that’s now covering your hair and face. “Ew.”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a stranger asks, kneeling down beside you to help. “Here, I’ve got a couple of napkins in my pocket. Let me help you.”

“What is it? Why is it warm and sticky?!” you panic, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.

“It seems to be a type of dessert? A strawberry pie, perhaps?”

“You’re kidding,” you groan. “So someone decided to just throw a pie out a window? The universe hates me.”

The kind stranger laughs, “Or maybe the universe thought you could use a little more sweetness in your life?”

“Unlikely, but thanks,” you say, using one of the napkins he handed you to wipe your eyes clean. You can see better now, he’s a cute stranger - if you have to be totally honest. Of course you would meet someone attractive in a ridiculous way like this. It’s just your luck.

You lick your lips, it’s tasty at least. “What a waste of good pie.”

“I can’t believe it landed directly on your head. I watch the whole thing happen in slow motion,” he says, struggling to hold back another laugh. “I’m Yeosang. Normally I don’t laugh at pretty girls who almost get knocked out by flying desserts, so my apologies.”

“Apology accepted. I’m Y/N, normally I don’t smell like I came directly out of a strawberry bake off but here we are.”

- Second flashback ends -

And that was the beginning of it all.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently. For instance, if you would have been slightly late to leave for work you wouldn’t be sobbing while packing up his things right now. Which is the last thing you thought you would be doing after falling so easily for him.

But you’ve never been one to beg for someone to stay. You’ve always said, if they wanna leave, let them.

‘He’s worth fighting for.’ The voice in your head practically screams at you. ‘Don’t give up so easily.’

Your doorbell chimes, breaking your thoughts and letting you know that he’s here. He has a key, which is how he normally lets himself in, but you guess things are different now.

You take a deep breath before opening the door, not sure what to expect exactly.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously and looks down at his hands which are holding…flowers? “Can we pretend the last four hours didn’t happen? I had a momentary freak-out and realized that texting you about breaking up was a mistake.”

“What?” your brows furrow in confusion.

“I still want to be with you. It just kind of hit me earlier how much I love you and I can’t imagine you not being in my life. But everyone leaves me at some point, and to make it hurt less I thought that by breaking up with you, it would make a future difficult thing less painful in the present.”

“Well,” you ask, crossing your arms. “Did it work?”

“No, I’m an idiot.”

“That may be true, but I love you anyway.” You hug him tightly and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Next time you want to run because you’re scared, just remember that I will always love you, even when you make mistakes - like believing that I’m going to leave you.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m still sorry.”

“Good. You should be.”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez drabble #yeosang #yeosang fanfic #yeosang x reader #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #ateez x reader #yeosang drabble #yeosang fluff #ateez fluff #ateez angst #yeosang oneshot #ateez oneshot

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧.

✦ info: this is a piece for @soleillunne's event, saudade. the first half was written by @llovelessly and i picked it up from there.

✦ featuring: kamisato ayato.

✦ warnings: some angst (?), not proofread.

✦ notes: hi hello my apologies for the lateness life has been life-ing real hard </3 i've done my best, but i still think it could've been better lmao

it’s strange, you think.

you sit in the comforts of expensive silk and lustrous linen, being doused into the arms of sleep and the soft sheets bit by bit—yet your eyes are laden with everything anxiousness has to offer. with a stifled sigh, your hand moves to lift you off the bed, and your feet start its nightly spiel. wooden floorboards creak beneath your step, and you do your best to focus on the crevices of your timber footing rather than the unease that begins the prelude of many, many endless and sleepless nights.

the hands of the clock by your bedside dance between the hour of midnight and eleven thirty, with a sharp yet almost inaudible tick when each second passes by.

it’s driving deeper into your anxious spiral.

why is your lover, ayato―not home yet? oh, but he promised he’d be here some time after dinner, saying in-between a quiet laugh that by the time he greets you with a sarcastic bow the food is still warm and you’d have plenty of time to ramble on about what happened in the midst of your day—however he’s nowhere to be seen. your ears are accustomed to the sound of his grimy soles, always noticing the close sound even in a crowded room—so he couldn’t be inside the house (and the chances of him toying with you were low since he loves you like the sun).

but—of course, finally—the impeccable timing of the clicking of key and lock never fail to snap you out of your strung-out haze, a welcomed arm pulling you by the waist into a quick hug before your lover places his muddy shoes under your shared bed and asks,

“how was your day, darling?” with that familiar, august tone you know dearly. you pull him into a sweet yet short, kiss—and glance at his soiled shoes.

you note they’re less dirtier than usual, and when you check upon the doormat by the entrance, it’s smeared with less sod and ground than the night after you washed it.

“. . . it was nice.”

a smooth, somnolent voice drawls between your worry and gut; reminding you that the carpet doesn’t matter more than the hours of slow dawn with your lover—so you prompt yourself to bed and forget anything but him the next morning. . . . . . it’s strange, you draw out on the patterned cloth, leg bouncing up and down from both stress and strain.

ayato has yet to arrive at the restaurant you sat in—with your hair done the way he likes it and clothed expensively in his gifts from various other nations. you bit your bottom lip each time the rusted bell that hung atop the door jingled, only to signal someone else entering and not him.

you straightened your posture, feeling your spine protest while you shift in your seat; moving your hands to either fidget below the table on your lap or on the table, where the knitted red material creases because of your awaiting and nervous actions.

just when will he arrive and kiss you like the sun?

it was as if time had grown languid with a single flutter of your lashes, watching painfully as each shift and hail had amounted to mere seconds when even just one breath had begun to feel like it weighed an hour of misspent moments on your shoulders. the quick veers from an edginess bordered by humiliation to a forced politeness (that you try to keep as light as possible to make it more believable), become more and more habitual with the minor bow of your head at the waitress checking in on your table, asking if you’d like to order something or be served more water—to which you answer that you’re good,

you’re fine,

you’re just waiting for someone—and she asks who it is—but your vocals thin to prevent you from saying anything other than,

“oh, just someone i know.”

then she nods and goes back to the mazes of the dirty kitchen, leaving you to count how many minutes it’ll take for her to come back again and ask the same questions again.

—

and so the ticks continue to sound in your head, a clock of your mind’s own making reminding you of the passage of time far better than the sounds that chime through the restaurant. and your presence feels like a statue made of stone, weighing heavily into the fabric of your surroundings. the eyes of people who entered long after you linger on the empty seat in front of yours, pity and curiosity dancing together in their gaze. 

 it’s strange, you think. he promised to be here before eight.

you’re intimately acquainted with waiting for him, the sounds of time passing by a bosom friend, the silent agony of anticipating his presence a slowly compressive pressure on your being. but he’s never made you wait this long.

not without a message, a lick of correspondence, an apology via one of his assistants, something, anything. 

where is he? 

anticipation twirls and swirls until it turns to anxiety, a glossy spill of viscous worry atop clear thought.  

where are you, ayato?

the grandfather clock made of gilded oak chimes nine, and you rise. you cannot bear the waitressess’ pitying looks anymore. to wait alone is easy enough, but under eyes that glow with condolence?

there is lighter torture in hell.

tears prick the back of your own eyes, and you cannot tell if they’re of frustration, worry or a combination of both. nevertheless, you hold your head high. the screech of the chair as you move it back rattles your skull.

the wait makes the journey home feel as if it merely flew by, as fast as lightning, the briefest flash of white in stormy skies. yet the ticks of the clock you cannot see haunt you all the same. 

hours later, long after you reach home, the hurried footsteps beyond the door, the click of the keys in the lock and the turn of the handle alerts you to his arrival.

“kamisato ayato.” you say, without bothering to turn. “where were you?” a waver betrays your emotions, your concern, your worry.

he rushes to grasp your hands in his, rare sincerity in his eyes. the raw emotion etched across his face, a clay tablet engraved by a stylus, is uncharacteristic.  “look at me, please.” his voice breaks.

slowly, you raise your gaze to meet his own.

“darling, i—” he pauses to swallow at the sight of sadness lining the rims of your eyes. “i’m so sorry.” 

“you said you’d be there before eight.” your words sit heavily in the air, laden with emotion you can’t quite verbalize. “i waited.” like i always do, you think, bitterness sharpening the edges of your thought.

“i know.” he hangs his head, moving to look at the silken lavender sheets. “i…i fell asleep. on my desk, after a meeting.”

the admission takes you by surprise. 

you glance at the shoes by the fireplace. though the luster of shoe-polish is no longer as distinct, you cannot see any evidence of dirt or sod or sand marring the sleek blackness. he really was in the office, you think. 

he loves you like the sun. you know he does. but not all of us have the luxury of basking in it when we want to. life binds our hands and our feet together in the dark.

and just like that, your heart softens against the resolution of your mind. the bags under his eyes are heavier than you’ve last seen them. “you look tired,” you murmur.

“i’m never tired for you,” he replies.

“i was worried.” you say, holding his hand tighter. i was worried about you not sending a message. i was worried that you forgot about me. i was worried that i’m not as important to you as the things that occupied your mind. 

he pulls you closer. i’m sorry for making you feel that way, he says wordlessly, with the way he draws circles on your skin.

and at last, his lips are upon yours, desperate, wanting, rushed despite exhaustion, so unlike the thorough, careful, controlled man he is. 

 “i’m sorry,” he whispers fervently, over and over, as his hands worship your skin with reverence. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder when you lay fast asleep. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers to your hair, in hopes you hear his apologies in your dreams.

this time, he makes another promise. to never promise you time out of his schedule that he cannot give. to never make you wait longer than you should. to learn to put his burdens into the hands of those willing to help, so he can swear to devote days to you, and only you. he knows both his happiness and his love revolve around you, and they will for as long as the heart in his chest beats.

after all, he is but the earth to your sun. 

#saudade; milestone #—🖋 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #ayato x you #kamisato ayato x you #so uh this definitely could've been better #but i tried my best #as always feedback is always appreciated <3

[ghostchems]

For the horror prompts: 19 and/or 28 with Copia? Perhaps with some sexy vampire action? 👀 love youuu ♡

boys suck

that gut feeling something is following you & having blood smeared all over you

a/n: mdni! 18+! there’s smut and blood and drama. tw for blood, death, mind-control, and mooooore. about 1.8k words! ao3 link.

You know you shouldn’t be out in the park this late at night but you need some fresh air and some space away from your boyfriend. The situation is spiraling out of control between the two of you and it’s getting exhausting trying to hold a doomed relationship together. You need to be able to think, to try and clear your mind so that tensions could at least go down before speaking again. You know that this is the big one, the last fight you would ever deal with and you are ready to tell them now - you just had to think about how.

The brisk air sends chills down your spine as you snuggle up in your oversized sweatshirt. Your mind is far away, so much so that you’re not paying too much attention to where in the park you’ve wandered off to. It isn’t until you start to get the feeling of being watched that you’re brought back to reality, finding yourself in the far, dark corner of the park. The sound of the wind through the trees distracts you for a moment, and then you hear it: a deep, throaty snarl ripping through the quiet night air.

You don’t know what else to do other than run, a fear striking through you that you haven’t felt since you were a child. Grass and leaves crunch beneath your sneakers as you race back to where you came. A hand grabs you by the arm, the grip impossibly tight and it brings you to a halt.

“Why are you running, dolcezza?” His voice is smooth and has a heavy Italian accent. You turn to look at him and you’re immediately struck by his sharp, white eye. He is wearing a cape, a bat clasp keeping it in place over his shoulders and his brown hair looks a bit wild.

“I… I heard something. Growling.” You manage to say between heavy breaths but your eyes fall to his grip on your arm. Danger is ringing in your ears and you start to feel like there is something not right with his man. The more you look at him, the more his features change to appear more pointed - his eyes, his eyes… his teeth. You swallow thickly once you notice blood on his check. “Y-you…”

Before you’re able to say anything more he has you pinned against a nearby tree and his hand is clamped over your mouth to muffle your scream. He presses his lips against your ear and draws in a deep inhale through his nose, a low moan spilling from his lips.

“You are lucky that I’ve already been sated.” His hot breath fills your ear and he pushes in closer to you, his body firm against yours. “Ohhh… but you smell so delicious.” He groans into you, his breath shaking as he pressed his nose against your neck. You try to push away him but he is far too strong for you, his gloved hand so tight on your face that all sounds are swallowed by it. His lips brush your neck and heat spreads along your skin. There’s a small moment of silence before he sinks his fangs into you.

The pain is blinding. Your vision starts to blur and a scream rips from your throat, the taste of his leather gloves filling your mouth. Your entire body feels like it is on fire, growing to a point that you’re sure you are about to burst into flames. And then, the pain is suddenly gone, replaced by comfortable warmth and numbness. His hand drops from your mouth and you give a shattered exhale. You have no urge to scream even though your brain is telling you to. His tongue laps at the wound on your neck, breathy moans and huffs coming from him as he grips at your waist.

“I need your help.” He whispers as he pulls away from your neck, his mismatched eyes gazing into yours. You want to run or to at least tell him no but you can’t bring yourself to speak. He leans in and brushes his pointed nose against yours. The warmth within your spreads and your cheeks grow rosy. “Be a good girl for me, dolcezza.” He murmurs against your lips and you can feel the tickle of his mustache. His tongue licks along your lip, the salty taste of blood starting to seep into your mouth. You are only able to give a small whimper before he forces his tongue into your mouth.

It’s then that you feel an ache between your legs as he kisses you. It’s desperate and demanding, the taste of your own blood coating your mouth while he grips your chin, forcing your mouth open even wider. All thought has left your mind. All that matters is him and what he wants. You don’t fight anymore. Your body melts against his, your hands drifting up his chest and feeling the soft velvet of his cape. It’s like you can’t control yourself anymore — it’s like he has taken over every corner of your being.

“There is a body not far from here.” He whispers and his voice echoes in your mind, to the point that it’s all you can hear. “I need your help moving it, dolcezza. Will you help me?” You nod slowly. His lips curl into a blood-stained smile. “Atta girl.” He grabs you by the arm again and starts to lead you back toward the dark corner of the park. You allow him to pull you and you feel like you are merely along for the ride at this point.

A little further past the spot you had turned back from is where the body is laid out in the middle of the path. It’s completely unrecognizable with blood completely covering him and his face mangled. It would make you scream normally, in fact, you are screaming in your head but on the outside it’s like it doesn’t phase you. He lets go of your arm slowly, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he motions to the body.

“Grab him by the arms.” The suaveness of his voice has gone and is replaced with a deep, commanding growl. You don’t hesitate, reaching for the man’s arms and lifts them as the stranger grips his feet. Blood spills from his neck and head all over you, but you’re too focused on following your orders despite how uncomfortable it feels and how badly it smells. The two of you make quick work of moving him, dumping him into some nearby bushes.

Blood clings to your gray hoodie and is smeared all along your face. You look at him with bright eyes, waiting for his next order. His lips twitch into a wide smile, blood still dripping from the sides of his mouth from when he bit you. He circles you, his cape blowing in the evening breeze before settling behind you. His hands fall to your hips, tracing lazy circles along the outside of your thighs, further staining your sweatpants.

“You’ve done so well for me, dolcezza.” He hums, his nose lightly brushing against your ear. “You’ve helped me out of a tight spot, si. Perhaps I owe you a bit of thanks.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and slips one of his hands to your stomach, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants. You give a soft yelp and try to push back against him. He shushes you, his lips pressing against your neck. “Do not worry. He won’t find out.” He presses soft, wet kisses to your neck that lights a fire in your abdomen.

All of your worries wash away as his hand dips into your pants. The feeling of his leather glove against your bare skin makes your breath catch in your throat. He cups your sex and presses his palm firmly against your clit, your eyes fluttering and your back arching against him as he moves his palm in slow circles. You can’t hold back a moan, your hands moving to clutch at his arms while your hips rock against his hand.

“You haven’t gotten attention like this in a long while, have you, dolcezza?” He tsks as he presses his palm firmer to your clit. You can’t bring yourself to speak, the building pleasure is all that matters now. It’s like he’s closed you off to the world, causing you not to care that you’re out in public or that you don’t even know his name as he continues on with his intimate touches. His fingers dip lower and run along your wet entrance, humming in approval before he easily slips two fingers inside.

“God!” You moan, your chest heaving and your legs trembling. His fingers dip in and out of you, then eventually he curls them inside with each dip, massaging that deep, sweet spot. He chuckles against your neck, playfully nipping at it. Your body is burning now from the overwhelming sensation and you suck in a sharp breath as your head tilts back against his chest. You close your eyes and part your lips, a steady stream of breathy moans flowing from them as you let go, your hips rolling against each of his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby…” He growls before nibbling on your earlobe, rolling it between one of his sharp fangs. Your toes curl in your shoes and a sharp cry rips from your throat as shockwaves grip your body, coming hard against his fingers. You slump against him, his arms loosely holding you up as you catch your breath. Silence falls over the two of you and you lean your head back to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t want to go back.” His voice is light and it sounds like he is sad for you. Emotion swells in your chest, tears forming in your eyes. How does he know what you’re going through? “You don’t have to go back.” He tugs you against his chest and wraps his arms securely around you, tucking you underneath his cape. You feel safe and warm snuggled against him, like you never want to leave his side.

“You don’t ever have to go back.” His voice drops to a low growl, his mouth hovering just over your neck. He sinks his teeth in again, this time deeper than before. The familiar warmth overtakes you and you lean into it, closing your eyes as his arms tighten around you to the point that you can hardly breathe. You welcome the feeling and you press into him further while he drinks from you with deep gulps and soft, pleased moans.

Your eyes flutter open and shut as numbness spreads through you and your mind starts to drift far away…

#cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #copia requests #spooky requests #Cardinal Copia #papa emeritus iv #copia #i don’t know how i feel about this but i tried my best

[aerkame]

I’m curious what the others finfolk forms look like, what kinda tails and colors do they have, markers, etc. I’m so excited for the au!

I am not feeling well enough to really draw so I will just give descriptions instead! I'll be sure to draw everyone at some point though, but if you want me to ping (or just message) you or anyone else just private message me or let me know in replies.

__________________________________________________________

For all neighbors minus Home:

Each and every neighbor will grow claws, teeth, increased height, increased strength, and webbed hands when fully transformed. As for clothes, they're designed to change with their form.

Wally Darling

Wally may still be the shortest of the neighbors, but he's still quite tall when compared to normal puppets (most finmen are huge regardless). When he comes off as a normal-looking puppet, he wears a blue glass colored (blue glass is a color, it is my favorite color-) clothing, or sometimes loose-fitting beach clothes if he feels like relaxing. He often keeps a red shell pendant around his neck area and a black single earring on his right ear.

When Wally is a finman however, his yellow felt turns to scales that range from yellows, purples, teals, and different shades of blue. His ears become thick and finned, each end going up into a small S-shaped curl. Underneath the clothing, his body is covered in soft red swirling and spiraling markings, something you can he on his cheeks. Unlike the finwomen, finmen don't turn into mermaids/mermen, so he does not have a tail at all and he instead grows various fins on his body, all very colorful. Oh, and don't forget the fangs and claws...those are pretty sharp.

Barnaby

Barnaby is one of the taller finmen, but not the tallest. You can usually find him wearing shorts, sandals, shell necklaces, and a sunhat. It's just so darn hot sometimes so don't expect to see him in a shirt really. If anything he'll probably be under a shady area or relaxing in some cool water.

While he does already have teeth and claws, they are pretty dull until he transforms, having his teeth become more shark-like and claws much sharper than anyone else's. However, Barnaby is the only one here who does not grow scales at all. Instead that blue felt skin will turn into something far more smoother and paler in color almost becoming grey but not quite grey. The spots all over his body stay of course, but they become darker and more larger, creating marbled patterns. Not only is Barnaby the only one without scales, but he is the only one to grow a tail and keep his legs. The once small fluffy tail turns into a strong shark-like one, being capable of causing someone a concussion or head trauma if he really swung hard enough with it.

Sometimes everyone suspects he isn't a finman, but even if Barnaby wasn't, everyone would still love the big guy.

Howdy

Being a fisherman has its perks. One being that it tends to be a good workout, another being that you can get all kinds of stuff from the ocean. That being said, Howdy is a giant when compared to the others. In his normal form, the fisherman has medium long blue hair that's often slicked back or just braided all under his hat. You'd think that running a shop and being a fisherman would leave little time for this man to tidy up his clothes but you'd be wrong. Everything remains completely clean no matter the weather, it's almost scary. Even the shell pendant he wears on his apron is constantly shining.

Obviously having double the legs and arms leaves him with double the amount of claws to tear someone up with. As a finman, Howdy's height becomes outright terrifying to anyone he meets. Forget the scary claws and fangs, his height alone is enough to scare the fear of God into anyone.

The colors of Howdy's scales match himself much like it does with Wally and the others. Green scales fade from blues to teals and tiger-like stripes decorate his body, leaving oval spirals on his cheeks.

Eddie

Probably the friendliest captain out there with the coat to match! Often times Eddie will be wearing his white captain's coat and hat, having a shell pendant pinned to the black suit he wears under. He always stays tidy, keeping his red hair slicked back under his hat.

As a finman, Eddie will also grow in size. This is when his usual friendly appearance turns more scary to some. Being large and having a giant captain's coat squaring your shoulders can look intimidating. Along that, Eddie's hair tends to get more rougher and slightly wavy, so he lets it down every once in a while.

Frank

Frank is the only one that wasn't a finman before moving in on the island, having been a normal puppet before. He still prefers to remain as his normal puppet self on most days unless it's rainy or stormy. Usually he is wearing vests, casual clothes, and colors that are muted in color, preferring to keep the shell pendant he has on a butterfly bow, keeping the bow as a reminder of his old life.

In the rare times that he decides to be more fin-like, the only things about Frank that change is that he grows teal, purple, and grey scales, square-ish finned ears, squared swirls, and fangs.

Julie

Being a finwoman (or mermaid) has it's perks.

Julie will on most days wear light colored fluffy dresses with thick high sandals, a large sunhat, and a shell necklace to match. If not a dress, then she'd be happy to wear anything good for the beach so she can go ahead and jump in the water at any time.

As a mermaid, Julie transforms her legs into a long and strong tail, being just as strong as finmen (no really, you do NOT want to get hit with her tail). Her scales often reflect the dresses she usually wears, which are deep shades of coral reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows. The fins at the end of her tail are wide and flowing, sometimes she'll even wrap herself up in them for fun.

The ears differ slightly from the others as they appear more softer and fluffy with light pink swirls and sparkles dusting her face.

Sally

Sally is sometimes nicknamed Sally Scarlet for several reasons. One reason being the clothing she wears. Everything is always extravagant or just screams passion, having everything in shades of red and black.

Sally is the only one who is almost always in her mermaid form. No really, she even has a part of her house with an indoor pool that leads to the ocean because she just doesn't feel like getting out of the water yet. Her tail is much longer than Julie's but more slim and much sharper, some scales being so sharp they can be flung or used as throwing knives. The weapon tail is made up of blood red scales with speckled black and gold scales scattered on her body.

She often wears a golden crown around her already existing crown (she's a star so duh) and dark makeup to compliment her scales. Of course, she painted her claws black to match. Dramatic...

Poppy

Poppy is probably the most colorful out of the neighbors, having literally every color in the rainbow on her. You can usually find her outside gardening with Julie, wearing nothing (because she has feathers) or just wearing a light colored shawl with a matching sunhat. She often carries her shell or clips it to a shawl.

However, Poppy is a little bit different like Barnaby when it comes to her original form, but no one questions it really. Like the other mermaids, Poppy will form a tail consisting of the rainbow, but the rest of her body becomes much larger and longer, resembling something closer to a serpent. The feathers soon turn into long spikes and sharp scales that could easily cut through steel. Her wings become giant fins and her beak grows a sharp curved end. She doesn't transform ever much like Frank due to her scaring herself and others sometimes.

Home

It is known that Home has a physical body, but no one other than Wally has talked to him. The only time anyone ever gets a glimpse of Home is when a shell is being given to a neighbor. Large clawed and black scaly hands reach out from the dark whirlpool to take the shell and imbued his magic into it before it's given back.

Sorry for any spelling errors, I'm a bit tired right now.

#welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home finfolk au #finfolk #au #welcome home wally darling #wally darling #welcome home barnaby b beagle #barnaby b beagle #welcome home howdy pillar #howdy pillar #welcome home frank frankly #frank frankly #welcome home eddie dear #eddie dear #julie joyful #welcome home julie joyful #welcome home poppy partridge #poppy partridge #welcome home sally starlet #sally starlet

[n3onstarss]

TMNT boys x terror bird yokai reader

reader can kinda shift between fully anthro yokai and more feral looking, for context reasons

Raphael

Ohhhh he's TOTALLY down bad. down horrendous, even

like, this man is the definition of a brawler on the team, but having a S/O who can take care of themselves in a fight

let alone a S/O who's species is made for hunting/fighting

just turns him to absolutely putty

especially if you have a softer side outside of fighting villains

cause, this person he loves can somehow be rage fueled and the most loving person ever?? at the drop of a dime? teach him your ways. /lh

definitely runs his hands through your feathers when y'all cuddle

the texture is nice and he's borderline never felt real feathers before, besides the down that rained from broken pillows after pillow fights-

will be small spoon if you're even a little taller than him, there's no fighting it. half an inch height difference? less? who cares. he's small spoon, period.

which is nice cause it proves he trusts you enough to be vulnerable and let you be the protector for once

lots of beak kisses and beak-to-beak boops

at first he's afraid to cuddle and crush you, but eventually you both take turns flopping onto each other and every opportunity. spikes and beaks be damned, you're GETTING those cuddles and so is he

Leonardo

bro BEGS you to let him ride on your back into battle

just once!

if you give in, you never hear the end of his exaggerated stories

Buddy doesn't even spoon

he just flops on top of you and passes out

down horrendous, period.

tall (probably-), strong AND he somehow bagged you? he firmly believes he peaked /lh

seeing you in battle? badass.

constantly bragging about you to Hueso, who doesn't believe you exist for a long time

until you suddenly roll up to Run of the Mill for pizza night

Leo definitely draws all over you if you let him, cloaking brooch or not

honestly doesn't care for the cloaking brooch, just loves seeing you however you prefer

he's just gonna.. hang off you sometimes. arm around your neck and make you support his full weight. eventually he learns he can just flop across your back whenever you're less anthro and chill and bam, new fav resting place

Donatello

this man can't decide if he wants to bite you, study you under a microscope or just stare at you forever u til he magically figures it out (affectionate)

what is he trying to figure out?

good question.

definitely makes you tech if you let him

and if not? makes little metal armor bits for the tip of your beak and claws, sharp and strong to help in battle

you're probably one of three people who can break him from his spirals

a single disapproving gaze and he is running to actually take care of himself for the first time in days.

i mean, gave you ever seen a shoebill stork mad?? now imagine that with a giant, carnivorous murder bird

little spoon but face to face, only way he accepts cuddles for the LONGEST time

absolutely tries to french braid your feathers to the point it becomes a stim when you're both just there, you're gonna end up with braided racing stripes from eye to tail someday

man you GOTTA just pick him up and hold him at some point. at first he'll dangle like a soggy kitten but after a while he mellows out and gets comfy.

make sure to check it's okay first, because he might fall asleep or it might be a no touch day, you'll never know until you know

Michelangelo

hhhhhhhhhhh bird

that's like the one thought in his head 40% of the time during battles

can't really process that that's.. y'know, his S/O, fighting villains and tearing shit up at first

DYEING FEATHERS HELLO

buys hair dye and prays it works on feathers, and it does! maybe. he uses the fast wash out stuff so he can do it again sooner

if a feather falls out and is given to him? (in passing or as courting) he makes a necklace out of them. he's got a little golden chain with a big ass feather on it that he wears sometimes for 'good luck'

cuddling is big, he's the smallest of the brothers and you're so fucking tall, he's gotta be touching you nearly constantly

if you're touch adverse he'll try not to, but sometimes he slips and grabs your hands or jumps into your wings Scooby Doo style

brags about you to Draxum. who, like Hueso, doesn't believe your real until he meets you at a family dinner.

He's a little cautious at first, worried about scaring you off or offending you, but once he learns you really don't care he uses you as a personal jungle gym. almost always perched on you somehow

#yeah no im not tagging this rn #its 3 am and i need sleep sordy #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #raph x reader #raphael x reader #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #leo x reader #leonardo x reader

[autizmoeddiemunson]

Hormones

Transmasc!Eddie

Sumary: Eddie needs help taking his testosterone

Warnings: Needles, panic attack

If theres one thing Eddie hates more than douchebags throwing balls in laundry baskets, its needles. Eddie hasn’t had an injection, blood draw, or IV in years.

Eddie had been on a testosterone cream for about 8 months but he’s horrible at doing anything daily. He had finally decided to switch to weekly injections and today was his first dose.

He called steve to do the actual injection, he knew there’s no way he’d be able to do it himself. Just the thought of needles made him nauseous. He was starting to spiral, he couldn’t stop staring at the materials.

Then, his panic was interrupted by a knock on the door of his trailer. He answered the door and was relieved to see the tall, beautiful haired man standing in front of him. He embraced him wordlessly, just wanting the comforting touch of his boyfriend.

Steve pulled a way and moved the hair from Eddie’s face. “Are you ready, hon?” Eddie could only nod anxiously, he didn’t trust himself to speak without bursting into tears. Steve gave him an understanding look and walked him to the couch.

“Close your eyes, it’ll be easier if you don’t look” Eddie shut his eyes and turned his head to face the wall, his entire body tensed in anticipation for the needle but instead Steve held his hand.

“Let’s just take a moment to relax first, okay?” Steve spoke softly, trying not to frighten him. “O-ok…” Eddie opened his eyes and looked at Steve.

Steve placed Eddie’s hand onto his chest. “Try to breathe with me, honey. Inhale for four seconds.” Steve audibly inhaled, making sure Eddie was following his lead. “Hold for four… and exhale for four.” He dramatically exhaled. They repeated this until Eddie finally relaxed. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“Ok, are you ready?” “I think so.” Eddie looked away again as Steve picked up the prepared syringe and held a section of Eddie’s stomach. “Ok, deep breath in, one… two… three… exhale!” As Eddie exhaled he felt a sharp pinch. “You’re done!” Steve placed on a bandaid and hugged his boyfriend.

Eddie was ecstatic! He did it! He faced his fear! “Thank you Steve. I love you so much!” He covered Steve’s face in kisses, practically tackling the poor boy as he did.

It made Steve so happy to see such pure joy on his face. Once they had calmed down, they settled into a loose cuddle, enjoying the bliss of the tender moment.

This was going to be ok.

#eddie munson #autistic eddie munson #trans eddie munson #testosterone #steve harrington #steddie #🩺writes

[good-night-doll]

Tis the season~      

•Part 2–Movies

: Tis the time of year where families gather around their desired destination for a relaxing day spent purely on Christmas movie marathons and a long lay out of foody delicacies to accompany the hunger experienced throughout these extended hours.

Word count: 786

Warnings: None

The voices of actors alike have grown akin to my ears over the course of my life, the story plots all seeming the exact same but never failed to hit that requirement box for entertainment and interest nevertheless.

Movies bring people together, spiritually and physically and the freezing fingers of Wednesday Addams hadn't failed me yet. 

Our fingers are sewn together like a neatly knitted sweater of a sort. Where red fabric meets blue in a cross over against the cold weather and the warm fireplace. Our palms press together for comfort and just purely for the sake of knowing the other one is there.

But despite the comfort I'm feeling, Wednesday's face says otherwise as a green man, tall and hairy, waltzes across the TV screen, his little fluff ball of a pup following closely. Her eyebrows are stitched together and jaw clenched with uncertainty.

I know that look all too well.

I squeeze her hand reassuringly, leading to her turning her head to face me. Her lips tilted in a frown and eyes sparkled with the soft lamp's reflection. The golden hue of the light makes her face seem soft and smooth, like it were a soft gold itself.

"What's up?" I inquire, shifting a tad bit closer to the mystery girl I had fallen for months prior.

"What is this?" She asks, looking evidently intrigued by the colour scheme of the one known as the Grinch. "This is for kids"

"It just started, Wednesday, give the movie a chance to prove itself" I share a small smile with the girl as she cautiously turns back to the movie.

I rub the pad of my thumb reassuringly over the back of her hand, feeling every inch of her dead cold skin before I too turn to continue watching the movie.

However, as the movie progresses, so does Wednesday's timid shuffles for closeness. And it had eventually reached the point where we were so close that the side of her chilly outer thigh brushed mine every dozen seconds and our intertwined hands now rested upon her lap.

It's nice to have her this close considering we haven't sat so content like this in a while. I had grown accustomed to the faint chatter of my heart playing its love drunk melody- making it feel like it's pumping at double the normal rate. 

But what I hadn't yet grown so accustomed to, was the serious pummel party I received inside my chest when Wednesday's head had sneakily slumped against my shoulder. The organ had malfunctioned, hissing in a fit of both lovestruck and dread as it sparked a sharp pain through me- like my heart had overdosed by blood vessels on some unknown medication. 

Looking down upon the smaller girl, I can't help but smile at the adoration I feel for her.

Her breathing is perfectly level. Her unbraided, ravenette hair is spiralled across my limb, stretching and reaching out in the most diverse directions in hopes for a glimpse of freedom, resembling that of the tentacles on an octopus.

Her face is bare and relaxed, calm over her inner thoughts as she imagines herself into a world of make-belief where her mind controls everything from the people in it to the conversations they have and even to the bugs and insects that live under their feet.

Her mouth draws open a few times, airy mumbles escape past her plush lips every now and then- clarifying her dreams/ nightmares through the subconscious action. The words are mostly complete gibberish- but still as equally adorable in a way.

Her scented perfume raids my nose, flooding my every sense and damaging my ability to work as a human even more. It's a unique smell- one that only God dreams of creating- and it's oddly addictive too. It's warm but cold, nice but mean, sharing but secretive.

The movie had all but faded into the background, meshing into the whispers and cries of my inner thoughts as I stared at the sleeping beauty on my shoulder. 

My heart still remains strong with its threatening routine- viciously hammering against my ribcage as if it were trying to break out of prison for that independence it so desperately wants but can't have. And I can't help but wonder if it'll ever become tamed again.

Not like it mattered though, because I know it's only bound to happen again for I had fallen for the most naturally beautiful woman the world has ever seen.

#wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #christmas imagine #imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday x reader #reader insert

[jreads]

Unexpected Constellations (Part 05)

Rating: I have no idea how to do ratings, can you tell? Let's say PG-13.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Angst, Canon level violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of alcohol, Insinuation of SA (but not really), Dark Themes, Foul language, Bad writing

A/N: I sort of hate this but I get guilty when I haven't uploaded in over a week. Also, I have no idea where to draw the line, do you guys prefer light and happy reader inserts or do u like this stuff. Let me know what the people want, I'll deliver. Next part is more fun, I promise. Again, thank you for all the love, this is more attention than I ever though this fic would get. Please check the masterlist for tags and other parts. If you reblog, I'll fly to your place and propose to you while across the stars plays in the background.

Din woke just before sunrise, fragments of his dream chasing him into consciousness. The way your breathless moan had sounded when he closed his lips over the pulse in your neck, the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, the way your body fit so perfectly under his.

He dreamt of you more often than not, sometimes relishing in the ability to touch you, taste you, even if it was merely a figment of his imagination. Some nights, his dreams would be terrible and violent, ones he couldn’t wake from, in which some elusive enemy would seek vengeance against him, and you or the child would get caught in the crosshairs.

On those nights he was glad for the separation between you, if only so you wouldn’t witness the way he jerked upward, gasping, sometimes removing the helmet to take down gulps of cool air.

He felt around in the darkness for it now. The door to the sleeping nook was closed and all of the lights were off, affording him the luxury of sleeping without it. His fingertips made contact with cold metal, and he sat up to retrieve it. Dull pain lanced through his side.

Right. He had forgotten about the injury, how you and the kid had healed him and then… He had told you not to sleep in the cockpit and you had stiffened so visibly…

He had overstepped. He cursed himself silently in the dark.

Sliding the helmet over his head, he felt along the wall for the button to open the door. It rose with a sharp noise, and he scanned the hull, darkness leaking through the ship. It must still be early then.

He’d go to the cockpit, wake you, and tell you to take the bed until the suns rose. He had gotten enough sleep; he would spend the rest of the dark hours trying to figure out some sort of strategy regarding the impossible job he had been presented with. 

Sliding out of the alcove, he looked up towards the flight deck, the visor’s night vision helping him to make out the ladder and the door. It was open.

And the seats beyond it were empty. A dark, yawning pit opened in his mind. You were gone.

He sat at the edge of the bed, unmoving. After last night, after he had asked you to stay, after you had told him you weren’t leaving. He must have made you uncomfortable. He had known this would happen, had expected it. It was why he had tiptoed around the truth for so long. He had shown you just a fraction of what he felt, and it had sent you running. Of course it had.

As if in a daze, he began collecting bits of information throughout the ship. The child, still dozing in his cradle. The medkit, bloodied cloth still strewn atop it, sitting on a stack of crates. Your bag, full, perched against the hull wall. 

Strange. You wouldn’t have left without supplies. Warning alarms blared in the back of his mind, snapping him out of his spiral.

Closing the top of the child’s cradle, he was out of the Razor Crest within moments. The sky was still dark, stars just barely visible against the black backdrop. He scanned the hangar for you. It was eerily quiet.

Wasting no time, he activated the analyzer in his helmet. The footprints that the tracker picked up were several hours old, partially obscured by the constantly shifting sand. But just to his left, a fresher track, with a sole tread he knew to be yours. The prints led directly to the doorway of Peli Motto’s office.

The small lady was curled on a cot to the side of the space, snoring. The candles burned low, fat pools of wax cooling on the stone surface. A small labour droid buzzed around, seemingly aimlessly. He stood in the doorway. The prints led here, but there was no sign of you in the room with Peli.

As if on cue, she coughed herself awake, letting out a hoarse yell when she beheld Mando silhouetted against the doorway. Had he not been wound so tightly, he might have laughed at the sight. Instead, he wasted no time.

“Where is she?” His voice was low, hesitant. Briefly, he wondered if he really wanted the answer.

Recognition crossed Peli’s face. “Oh, yeah, right.” She sat up. “See, I told her you’d have a conniption when you woke up.” The woman ran her hands over her face and through her curls, taking a deep breath.

His hand rested on his belt. “That doesn’t answer my question. Where did she—”

“Yeah, yeah, okay you big mother hen, calm down.” Peli rubbed sleep from her eyes. “She said she was going to go out looking for information, since your intel mission went so splendidly.” The sarcasm was evident in her voice. 

He was far from amused. He barely even registered the fact that you hadn’t left for good. The loss he had felt earlier was immediately replaced by something sharper.

“And you let her?” Mando might has been shaking, just a little. “Go out into Mos Eisley. Alone. In the middle of the night.” He knew he was being too hard on Peli. It was difficult to keep you from doing anything once you had set your mind to it.

Her hand stilled in her hair, as if she realized that she had, in fact, done just that. He turned from the doorway.

She was up and following him at an impressive speed. “She can take care of herself.”

He kept walking.

Peli called after him. “And you’re still injured!”

Still, he didn’t falter.

“How are you going to find her? You don’t even know where she went!”

He replied over his shoulder. “I’m a hunter.” He had cleared the hangar doors. “I find people for a living.”

While the port had quieted significantly since he had been out, there were still all sorts of species out enjoying a night of debauchery. He walked past another human, barely upright, arm slung over the shoulders of a pink Twi’lek. She laughed shrilly at something he said. 

Tracking you shouldn’t be hard. He knew you, the way your mind worked, the mix of logic and intuition in your decisions. But he’d never needed to track you before. Underneath the thick layer of worry, part of him sang at the idea. He set off down a side street, coming out onto the wider stretch.

You were rational. He knew you’d keep to the main road because it was busier. You’d be most likely to overhear something in the more bustling areas of the space port, and you would try to avoid venturing into the darkness.

You had been drinking with Peli earlier, so you would avoid places that would make you look conspicuous for not ordering alcohol. That crossed out the bigger cantinas and the underground haunts. He walked rather briskly down the sandy laneway, narrowly missing an overexcited Ronto.

In the following minutes, he continuously scanned the ground for your prints. He found a match just off Spacer’s Row, but high traffic meant there was no easy track to follow. He took a gamble and turned down the lane. 

Drunken patrons stumbled past him, often quieting as he came near. Having a reputation meant easier pay, and the shining beskar body armour was an effective protector, but he absolutely despised the lack of anonymity. He was out in the open, a veritable beacon, and right now, especially in this space port, he could have used a bit of obscurity.

Too frequently, his hand flexed to his blaster when someone’s eyes lingered just a moment too long. He knew and had heard of many of the hunters associated with the Guild, but he’d be a fool to think that Guild members were the only ones who had gotten wind of this job. He would have to be wary of everyone.

Very few people knew of the Mandalorian’s involvement with you, which was certainly one point in your favour. Obviously, Boba Fett and Fennec Shand were aware that the two of you travelled together, and the nature of your powers. But Boba had dealt with force wielders before, and he trusted the man not to say anything or put you in unnecessary danger. Greef Karga knew Mando now travelled with a companion, but he had not shared any further information about you. Karga had pushed to meet you before and Din had rather passive aggressively declined. He didn’t want you mixed up in the Guild and its politics, but he also didn’t want Karga to have intelligence he could share to other parties.

Altogether this meant, to his displeasure, that you probably would be more effective at eavesdropping and picking up information. But that didn’t stop a selfish part of him from wanting to keep you hidden, safe on the ship, where you could happily play with the child and not share in the life that had coated his own hands with so much unnecessary blood.

His train of thought was broken abruptly as something caught his eye.

Colours. Vibrant and captivating, offset against the drab and monochromatic backdrop of the town. A row of bright banners hung across makeshift scaffolding, interspersed with small, warm lights. An open-air bar, quite busy given the activity he could see, even at a distance.

He knew before he moved any further that he’d find you there. You were always attracted to unique and vivid scenes such as the one before him. Like called to like.

Ducking behind a stretch of domed structures, he closed in on the bar. A Devaronian and a modified protocol droid were making a show of mixing drinks, eliciting oohs and ahhs from the customers watching. You had your back to him, but he could tell you were following the display, the angle of your head and shift of your hair indicative of your interest. The weight on his chest lifted, just a fraction.

The bartender tossed a shaker in the air, twisting with ease before catching it in the opposite hand, not a drop spilled. The protocol droid was cutting a jogan fruit with such speed that its blade tipped arm was a blur. Din wished he could see your face, the way your eyes were sure to light up at the theatrics, an easy smile likely gracing your features. He would have watched you openly, unabashedly under the safety of the helmet. 

Unfortunately, the Weequay across the bar did not have such a luxury. His attention on you was glaringly obvious and clear with intent. As you angled you head again in his direction, the man raised a leathery hand and waggled his fingers suggestively at you. Mando had to curl his hand into a fist to refrain from reaching for his blaster. You didn’t shift. 

Oh. He knew what you were doing. 

Slowly, he took in other details of the scene. Specifically, the six other males the Weequay sat with. Their expensive-looking weaponry scattered atop the table and leaned against its legs. An endless number of blades, blasters, rifles. They were hunters… all of them.

The group’s table was also littered with empty cups of varying sizes, which would have painted a clear enough picture without the loud, slurred speech that Din could pick out through the sensitive audio receptors in his helmet.

If he were to emerge from the shadows and cross the street, drop credits on the counter and tuck you into his side, would they try to stop him? Given how earnestly the one hunter was surveying you, he supposed so. A million scenarios flashed through his mind. The priority was getting to you, he could handle whatever came next. Perhaps that incessant twist in his chest would ease once he could feel you closer to him. 

He reached for the darksaber at his side, the weight of its hilt reassuring. He couldn’t make such a scene here, as much as a very selfish part of him would love to sink the onyx blade into the man’s chest for looking at you that way, for even daring to breathe in your direction. That left his blaster and a few hunting knives. I he could just—

But your seat was now vacant, the protocol droid reaching for an empty mug of what Din could only assume was caf, scooping up the credits beside it. He watched as the Weequay got up too, receiving nudges and claps on the back from his mates as he made his way around the edge of the bar. Following the man’s line of sight, Mando saw red. He was pursuing you, just a few steps ahead, blissfully unaware of his presence. Shit.

He couldn’t just run after you. The armour alone was a dead giveaway, and the hunter’s friends were all watching him stalk after you with wicked expressions. He wanted to hurt them all, slowly, in the worst way imaginable. He would have enjoyed it too.

You turned right into a dark lane between buildings, the Weequay ducking in just paces behind you. Farrik. He’d have to take a longer way around, to avoid being noticed. Ignoring the ever-present ache in his side, Din broke out into a run.

You were hyperaware of the footsteps behind you. The man was trying his best to mask them, but after the amount of alcohol he had ingested with his friends, he was clumsy and uncoordinated. 

You had led him into a darker area of the town, one you had scouted out beforehand due to its confusing, maze-like layout. 

You had sat in that bar for almost an hour, noting the table of hunters in the corner. Mention of a dangerous job and promise of riches had confirmed your suspicion, and you had dutifully listened to what felt like a moon cycle of useless information to try and glean anything important. It was then that you had noticed the man’s interest in you, crooked teeth glinting in your direction. You had supressed a shiver. But if the table wasn’t going to share any more about the bounty, then you would have to get your information through different tactics. So begrudgingly, even though every fibre of your being was screaming at you to stop, you sent a shy smile back. 

Fast forward to now, and the man was probably a few metres behind you. You had taken two lefts, a right, a left again, and two final rights before you ended up exactly where you had planned: a dead end.

“Are you lost, princess?” His voice was a rasp behind you.

So slowly, you turned. The man had his hands braced on his garish belt buckle, blocking your escape from the alley. He bore no weapons; he must have thought you an easy target. A vile grin painted his features.

You took a few steps towards him, close enough that you could smell the liquor on his breath. Yes, this would do nicely.

 “No.” You replied. “Actually, I’m right where I want to be.”

He reached for you then and you dodged, his arm stretching wide. One twist of your hand and his bone severed cleanly just above the elbow. He let out a howl, falling to his knees. You circled him while he cradled the limp arm, huffing and whining.

He hissed. “Witch.”

“Not quite.” You were at his back now, trapping him in the same place he had trapped you just moments ago. “You have some information I want. Tell me, and I’ll let you go.”

He twisted to look at you over his shoulder, spitting at your feet. Sighing deeply, you rolled your eyes. Seconds later, he was choking and flipping to face you, eyes wide. Hands enclosed around his throat, he shuffled backwards on his ass until his back hit the wall. You released and he gasped.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” Your voice was sweet. For the first time, he regarded you with real fear. Good. Your eyes were probably beginning to take on that saffron tint that came with the use of the dark side of the force. It had taken you months on Sorgan, constantly checking your reflection in the still water of swamp pools, to finally see the colour completely fade from your irises.

“I want information on the bounty your group was talking about. Everything you know.” The man was still heaving, trying desperately to take down gulps of air. He was silent for too long and you lifted your hand again, staring him down.

He crossed his one working arm in front of his face. “Wait! Wait. I’ll tell you—I’ll tell you what you want just…” You lowered the hand, motioning for him to continue. 

He took a few more wheezing breaths. Finally, he rasped: “Raider’s Cove. The person who has the bounty told people to come to Raider’s Cove on Rishi if they wanted to buy it. Bootlegger’s Market, I swear… just let me go.”

Rishi. You had heard of the planet before, but never set foot on it. You wondered if Din knew anything about Bootlegger’s Market. 

Maker, Din.

You felt his presence behind you as if you had summoned him. You shouldn’t be surprised that he managed to find you. Without turning, you addressed him.

“You should be resting.”

His answer was curt, sharp. “You should be on the ship.” Oh, he was not pleased with you.

You twisted to give him your best smile. “I guess we’re both misbehaving then.” You could have sworn even the dark visor looked slightly murderous. A thrilling feeling coursed through you at the sight of him.

Reluctantly, you returned to face the man in front of you, still cowering on the ground. “Why don’t you tell the nice man here what you just told me.” You motioned to Din with your head.

You would have thought it impossible for the hunter to look more frightened than he had moments ago, but now, as he surveyed the both of you, he looked about ready to puke.

Swallowing audibly and still cradling his arm, he spoke directly to Din, avoiding eye contact with you. His rough voice wobbled. “We were told we could find the bounty in Bootlegger’s Market. Someone was taking bids there and would sell to whoever paid the highest.”

“Who gave you that information.” You could have sworn Din’s voice was rougher than usual. He felt tense and unfocused beside you. 

“It was an anonymous tip.” He cringed. “Please… that’s all I know, I swear. Just let me go.”

You turned your back to the man, instead facing Din. You wouldn’t have to worry about the man trying to attack you from behind; you knew Din would have him down before he could even lay a finger on you.

“We can’t just let him leave.” Din’s voice was hushed.

You exhaled. “I know.” 

He regarded you for a long moment before reaching for the blaster at his side. “I’ll do it.” He moved to push past you, but you stopped him with a hand on his pauldron.

“Wait.” Surprisingly, Din obeyed.

You spun again, walking back towards the Weequay on the ground. You had only tried this once, and the results had been less than impressive. But murder hadn’t really been on your list of things to do tonight.

He was scrambling again. “No.. wait please, I’ll do anything you ask.” 

You didn’t have to reach far to bring your palm to his cheek. His skin was rough, textured, like aged Bantha hide. “I know you will.” You whispered.

Unconsciously, he leaned into your touch. You closed your eyes.

Memory rubbing was an old Sith technique, one you had been trained in just once, and succeeded only partially in performing. The results wouldn’t last forever, hopefully just long enough for you and Din to finish the job and get out unscathed.

You filtered through an overload of memories: being cast out by his family, the cruelty of his father, turning to bounty hunting for money, the horror of his first kill, the fine piece of traditional Weequay jewelry he had purchased with his pay, a band of pirates back home, the people he considered friends. Slowly, you witnessed the tainting of his personality, you watched the line between moral and immoral start to blur, bit by bit. Finally, you came across what you needed, the image of you and your Mandalorian in the sandy alleyway coated thoroughly with the tang of fear. Slowly, methodically, you unwound it.

He would remember drinking too much, going for a walk, passing out behind a residential hut. When you were satisfied with your work, you spooled bits of your consciousness back into yourself. 

The physical toll hit you like stone, and as the man collapsed into slumber, you faltered as well.

Strong arms caught you around the waist, keeping you upright and practically hauling you out of the alley. You wanted to say something to him, but your mouth was so dry, your mind wouldn’t work.

A few paces away, he set your back against cool stone, propping your body up against his own. You were already slowly starting to get your strength back, but you weren’t inclined to tell him to move. You kept your eyes closed, breathing through ebbing waves of nausea.

You could feel the waxy leather of his gloves, tilting your head this way and that, likely trying to gauge injury. 

“I’m okay.” You reassured him. “I’m sorry.” You added. There were too many things to apologize for.

There was a moment of silence. And then…

“You can’t keep doing that to me.” He sounded angry, tortured, in pain. You weren’t sure.

Your eyes shot open, looking straight up into the darkness of the visor. He was so close; you could see the yellow of your irises reflected in it. You squeezed them shut again, not wanting to see it, the tangible proof of what you had done.

You drooped you head, mumbling your apology again. “I know we came here for intel and I didn’t want us to come up empty. I thought I’d make it back before you woke. I never intended… I never planned to hurt him… I mean I knew he’d come after me I just… I didn’t mean to.” You were rambling. Taking a steadying breath, finally, you admitted: “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

“You think that’s what I’m upset about?” There was such incredulity in his modulated voice that you opened your eyes and looked at him again. 

“He made the choice to come after you.” He was shaking his head. “You had every right to defend yourself.” Guilt settles in your gut like a leaden stone. You had exchanged smiles with the man, encouraged him to follow you. It wasn’t self defense. It was an ambush. You had been fully aware of your actions. At what point had that part of you taken over? You hadn’t sensed a shift in yourself.

Din interrupted your train of thought. “I’m upset because I keep thinking I’ve lost you. When I woke up and you were gone…” He trailed off. 

“You should have woken me. I could have trailed you at a distance, at least made sure you were okay.” He was right, of course. It was foolish of you to go off on your own; though perhaps some darker part of you had persuaded you to do so, knowing that things would end up this way.

“I’m sorry….” It felt like you were constantly apologizing. “…for leaving without telling you and for… this.” You motioned back towards the alleyway, where the Weequay lay unconscious. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” He inclined his head over your shoulder toward the same alley. There was true sincerity in his voice. “Everyone gets carried away like that sometimes, it’s normal.” It sure as hell was not normal. You avoided his gaze.

“You’re not evil.” It was your turn to shake your head. He caught your chin between his fingers. “No. You could have let me kill him, but you made the choice to let him live. Even though you knew his intentions when he followed you here. You would have had every right to want him dead.”

“You’re not a bad person.” His breath was shaky. “I know you’re not, because you taught me that I wasn’t.” 

And just like that, your resolve faltered. 

“You don’t ever have to justify that part of yourself. Not to me.” He released your chin to grab your hand. “We’re the same. You and me, remember?” Again, you saw the reflection of your own irises, staring back at you through the darkness of his visor. 

For the second time, you closed your eyes. 

His thumb rubbed soothing circles just above your hip. “It’s okay, they’re already starting to fade.” You nodded, trying not to focus on the feeling of his hands on you. You couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken this much. He had this uncanny ability to calm you down, to ground you, anchor you when you were at risk of losing yourself.

“Thank you.” It was all you could offer. It was an absolute role reversal; he had all the right things to say, and you were practically speechless.

“We should get back to the Crest.” Opening your eyes again, you noticed the lilac tint of the sky, just peeking over the top of the nearest domed hut. The suns were beginning to rise. 

“Can you walk?” Din asked.

You didn’t want him to move. He was so warm, the weight of his body so pleasant against your own, even with the unforgiving armour plates.

Begrudgingly, you nodded. You felt the loss of him like a physical blow.

The walk back to the Crest was a quiet one, as the suns began to appear over the horizon. You seemed less burdened, but Din knew you hid it well.

He hadn’t expected you to feel such guilt from your actions; he thought you had handled yourself admirably. In fact, there was a part of him that delighted in the sight of you commanding the attention of the man on his knees before you. He tried not to think too much about the rush of heat that went through him at the sight of it, so distracting he could barely focus on the words of the bounty hunter you had trapped. The information that you both had come to this planet to retrieve.

Bootlegger’s Market. He had visited a few times before on Guild business and had some contacts there that he could call upon to help. Still, the anonymity of the source baffled him. If someone was trying to make a sale, wouldn’t they leave a way to make contact? There was still so much he didn’t know about the bounty, and he hated to be in an uninformed position. 

You both rounded a corner, finally arriving at Hangar 3-5. Walking through the doors, Din beheld Peli, sitting on a stool watching the sun rise, bouncing a giggling Grogu on her lap. The child had a fistful of worms and was alternating at high speed between laughing and eating. He tilted his helmet, just enough to witness the real smile that broke across your face. His knees almost wobbled in relief. 

He placed a hand on the small of your back. Any excuse to touch you, it was shameful really. “I’m going to go warm up the engines.”

“Okay.” The sun’s warm light was catching the edge of your face, lighting it up in a way that made him feel a little dizzy. The gold tint of your eyes had faded completely on the walk back.

He moved past you, striding up into the coolness of the Crest. So faintly, he could hear you talking to Peli.

Moments later, finally seated in the cockpit, he fired up the engines and set course for Rishi. Looking out the window to his right, he could see the lady engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, pushing you away to give you what looked like a rather stern lecture. You were nodding your head and smiling faintly. She then shook you back and forth, your head bobbing with the force, until you broke out into a laugh. It might have been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Within minutes, you were in your usual seat to his right, the child happily collapsed in your lap. The haunted look from earlier was gone, replaced by a muted version of your usual vivacity.

As the landing gear rose from the ground and retracted into the hull, he noticed the metal ball unscrewing itself from the dashboard lever. Twisting in his seat, he fully expected the kid to have narrowed eyes and outstretched claws. Instead, it was you, hand lifted, gaze fixed on the sphere now floating leisurely through the air. 

You gave him a smirk and a shrug as Grogu caught it and let out a squeal of excitement. Din huffed and spun back around, taking control of the ship. He was relieved, so relieved to be leaving Tatooine with you. He had almost lost you twice in the space of one day, and he had no doubt that the tension would catch up with him in the form of fatigue once the ship entered hyperspace.

But for now, he was content to hear to roar of the Razor Crest’s engine, interspersed with coos and cackles from the child at his side, and the comforting presence of the travel companion who had become both the leading cause of stress in his life, and his most unfathomable obsession.

“Anything I should know about Rishi?” You asked.

There was really only one thing to say. 

“It’s hot. It’s really kriffing hot.”

Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @aavengingbucky

#star wars #the mandalorian #sw the mandalorian #din djarin #sw fanfic #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin blurb #din djarin headcanon #din djarin drabble #din djarin angst #din djarin imagine #din djarin x female reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #my fic #jreadswrites #unexpected constellations

[knightinink]

20 pip

OOO YES I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS OKAY LET'S GET INTO IT!!!

20. Scars Pip, I think, would have a lot of scars, considering that he is life's doormat, punching bag, etc. He would have scars of all kinds, & each one has a story to tell.

Head Scars Throughout his life, Pip has sustained head injuries on multiple occasions, starting out in England first. He mentioned in his titular s4 ep that, when Estella says they're going to play a game called "smack the blond boy in the head with a large log", that "my sister and I play that game at home all the time!". Getting hit like that multiple times by an (assumedly) heavy hitter would definitely break the skin & bleed him, & if intended, it would be deep enough to scar over. He's got scars from that on the top of his head hidden by his hair, & a few on his forehead, which he covers with his hair as best he can.

He's also cracked his noggin on the concrete! When he went down the slide at recess & smacked right into the swing pole, & then on the ground, it bled him quite bad (as we saw him in nurse Golem's office bleeding profusely).

He was also headbutted during a football game & bled pretty badly, as Chef wouldn't let him wear a helmet during the game. Knowing how hard those helmets are & with Pip being as small as he is, it probably caused a fair amount of damage.

Forge Scars Let us not forget, Pip was Joe's apprentice for a while! & as a blacksmith, he was around many sharp tools & weapons, as well as fire & flying sparks, so it only makes sense that he might get hurt while in there. They would all be accidents this time around, & will be the only time his scars are accidental. Joe would never want his boy to get hurt, & if he does, the man's right there with some first aid. He's got some small burns on his hands & arms, but nothing serious or very noticeable. If he ever grabbed a hot handle, whether it be a tool or something they were working on, it would only be for a second, & Joe would dress it accordingly with some wrappings he keeps in the forge for just such an occasion.

Bite Marks Remember the s1 Halloween episode? Where Pip was turned into a zombie for a short period of time? Well I like to think that he's got a scar from being bitten by zombies on his left forearm & right shin. They're a bit faded, but they did break the skin & bruise at the time of receiving them.

Burn Scars Now these are my favorite ones to talk about, as he received them in both in GE & SP, albeit in different ways, & they're an intergyral part of his character that I love. Keeping with the SP theme, in the s1 episode "Damien", the antichrist set him ablaze in a grand firework show, explosions and all. Since hellfire is hotter than normal, he was burned pretty quickly, despite not having been on fire for long. These were by far his worst injuries, as he suffered 3rd degree burns that scarred from the right side of his face, his lower jaw, trailing down his neck & around his collar bones, down his torso & spiraling around his arms & fingertips, & ending just below his hips. Miraculously, he survived the incident, but he scared all over, & these are the most visible scars he has, & still has as he grows older (I do plan on making a reference of all these scars so I can draw him more consistently).

Thank you so much for sending this in! I love talking about this, & it was a great opportunity to do so!

#pip pirrup #south park headcanons #south park #my askbox

[ennaku-sirri-da]

He's my best friend best of all best friends💏

[ Plain text: He's my best friend best of all best friends💏( men kissing emoji)]

So @boo-bookeys-reblogs left very kind tags on a post of mine for my AU....

[ID: A screenshot of the tags from the blog Boo Bookeys Reblogs. They read 'baby i love this. I absolutely love it when draw characters in their own interpretations." Then " and "wow! This is such a design for them! It's gorgeous! I'm obsessed!" And then general tags regarding the game Smile For Me, the ship Habismal and GIFs. End ID]

Live Habismal reaction!

[ Plain text: Live Habismal reaction! ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart of the game Smile For Me involving the characters Kamal Bora and Dr. Habit, but my versions from my AU Roseverse. The sketch is done in blue pen and uncolored. Lightly rough pencil lines are seen as well. It is their reaction to the previous tags.

In the artists AU interpretation Habit has marionette features such as segmented, jointed dark line-cuts around his mouth, hands that are visible. He looks thin. A bit of a small droopy chests outline is visible. Stitch-scarring is seen on arms. He is also fur covered. His face is gaunt and freckled with protruding furry cheeks, then fur-ruffles under his makeup-applied eyes, then a thin pencil stache with surrounding chin and neck hair. The middle of the neck is surrounded by a scar, and he has an Adams apple. His teeth are broken and he has one snaggletooth fang. His voluminous curly hair poofs out into drawn spiralling curls, but he is clearly balding on one side too with stray hairs perking up. Here Habit wears a half-handed buttoned shirt tucked into his pants a bit, rounded off with a belt. From his collar is a tie with polka dots. The shirt is modified with a frilly collar, poofy shoulder parts. The pants are jeans.

Kamal meanwhile has a more aged appearance as well-- wrinkly face, sagging jowls and crooked nose. He has a clear middle-tooth gap. He looks of a more average size. Some acne and sharp stubble. He has a less prominent Adams apple. He has white streaks in short dark hair, has puffy eyebags paired with bushy brows. Here Kamal wears his hair in a really short ponytail. He has on a lint-ball covered hoodie that looks scratchy, its strings at the front hang unevenly. A bit of a black shirt underneath is seen. For minimal jewellery, he has a teardrop-shaped chew necklace and a single small gold earring on the left.

Habit stands straight up while Kamal hunches over. His height reaches up to just about Habit's chest.

Habits pupils are constricted as he shoots his hand up in a gasp of surprise, the other one tight behind his back. Kamals eyes are a bit wide and he smiles, reaching up from his posture, as if pleasantly surprised.

In black cursive text below is the compliment they're reacting to, "You're gorgeous! I'm obsessed. " Gorgeous is underlined in pink with a heart on the exclamation mark. End ID]

....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..?

[ Plaintext : ....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..? ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart, continuing the part above. This one is fully colored digitally. The sketch lines are scanned thick and black, defined.

Kamal has a warm medium brown skintone and dark tousled grey hair with white streaks. His hairband is dark blue with glittery spots. The facial places with his acne are reddened and darkened, few white pimples. His hands have hairy knuckles and darkened finger areas. There are Beau's lines on his nails. His hoodie is a soft grey with pastel red undertones and a darker hood area. It has a yellow patch on the lower right arm which says " We will always love you( This is threaded in red and cursively) Kamal(Kamal is threaded with gold in Assamese) OUR SON( this is thickly threaded in teal ) ( The transgender symbol is seen )". Meanwhile on his red chew necklace with rose-pink string, a simple design of a twisting flower with bisexual colors is drawn, its leaves are purple.

Habit has apple-green fur and shades of deep rose-pink hair. His facial hair and the balding spot is of a darker shade. The sclera of his eyes are a light pink to indicate loving adoration, his pupils are dark brown. He has on purple eyeshadow, red lipstick and nailpolish. His eyebags and fur-ruffles are of a deep red sort. Some of his cheek-sticker freckles are white. The stitch-scars, ball joints, joint-cuts and wrinkles are done in a much darker green. Habit's shirt is a light rose-pink with a pale shade of it for the collar frills. His tie is yellow with green polka dots. His belt is standardly brown plus silver-buckled and his jeans are a pastel yellow and pink.

Kamal pulls down Habit by his tie lightly, and Habit willingly leans down too, one hand resting on his leg to balance. Kamal talks to him, looking playful, brows furrowed and grinning wide in challenge. Some sweat trickles down. He is looking up, his hair being pushed up by Habit's face touching close to his. Some of the other's lipstick smudges Kamal's nose tip red. Habit rests his other hand on Kamal's shoulder, twirling two of his fingers in strands from Kamal's ponytail. He too talks back, smiling unevenly big, looking coquetteish. A deep pink blush blooms from across his face to a bit of his neck. Habits hair falls down and covers Kamal amidst it.

The BG is a emanating yellow that gets softer starting from the bright light behind Habit's head. There are very light pastel rainbow flares in wide arcs throughout. Red hearts are drawn from Habit, and smaller blue hearts from Kamal. End ID]

Dialog!! Please read!!! Habitspeak translation provided below for those who need.

[ Plaintext: Dialog!! Please read!!! Plaintext and Translation provided below for those who need. ]

" I yam very b-eàu-tiful but I onlee rlly believe it when someone with a soul as irriziztebly sexy as ur face is tells me that. I can tell that mie current shrink doesn't mean it like u do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLES, I had the third real religgious ex-perience in my whole lyfe, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body u've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote)Oh bb.. I can't resist the attenshun of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit ov every-thing and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making a heart emoji) "

" And how do "U" feel? :- ) (smile emote)"

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Lov u 2💋( lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--Habitspeak Translation

" I am very beautiful but I only really believe it when someone with a soul as irresistibly sexy as your face is tells me that. I can tell that my current shrink doesn't mean it like you do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLEASE, I had the third real religious experience in my whole life, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body you've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote) Oh baby.. I can't resist the attention of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit of everything and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making heart emoji)"

" And how do "You" feel? :- ) (smile emote) "

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Love you too💋 (lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--

THANK YOU @boo-bookeys !!!!! IM REALLY GLAD PEOPLE LIKE MY HARD AND ALSO GAY WORK!!!!

[Plain text: Thank you @boo-bookeys !!!!! I'm really glad people like my hard and also gay work!!!!]

#HOLY FUCKING FUCKED FUCK BALLS THAT TOOK TWO HOURS TO WRITE UP #PLEASE FEED ME IM THE SWEET SUMMER CHILD AND I NEED FOOD #AKA YOUR COMPLIMENTS TO THE CHEF OUHFUFHGH #ART IS HARD #AND THESE BITCHES ARE SO DETAILED MY GODST #ANYWAY #kamal bora #dr habit #habismal #roseverse au #boo bookeys #gift art #gay #SO gay #gay bros #gay muppet and uncle #s4m #smile for me game #au #my art #fanart

[killingick]

CHAPTER 2 — GREED ♱ JASON THE TOYMAKER

❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 ɢʀᴇᴇᴅ ❞ ༄

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐲

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝

ᴛᴡ: ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

You'd been infatuated with the blonde haired toymaker.

Everything about him stood out in a way that appealed to you, how no other could.

For starters, his clothing choice was one that was eccentric, though reflected the stories he'd had compiled on shelves in the forms of memories behind those emerald, green, eyes; He'd spent more time on this Earth than most of the mortals of your generation had even lived to see, and collected garments which he'd pridefully worn to reflect such.

Resultingly, he'd seen it all, felt it all, had it all and was the hardest person for you to please.

Mimicking his work, you'd created something from nothing. Pricking your finger with a needle and drawing spirals and petals and flowers on a white canvas, which you'd gifted to him to show your admiration towards the man, he'd only scoffed and brushed it off, seemingly being no where near impressed with your attempt to satisfy him.

It often hurt to see your hard work go to waste.

No matter how hard you'd tried, you were never able to conjure up anything for the man that would impress him.

With eyes that had stared at the Earth as it aged for two whole centuries, he was more keen to educate you with his knowledge and impress you with his antics, than he was to accept these pitiful gifts that he had seen and made himself long ago.

"Selfish fuckin' cunt." The black haired killer spoke as he'd allowed the sharp blade to dance along his fingers smoothly.

Jeff had been unlucky enough to watch you effortlessly tear yourself apart for the man, to not even receive a glance in return. It angered him, seeing the person he'd grown terribly fond of hurting, because the toymaker had better things to see, than pay attention to the only person that was open to listening to him.

Your lower lip trembled as you stared down at your feet, eyes welling with tears for what'd felt like the hundredth time this month. You'd really tried... truly, but with every attempt you'd felt lonelier, and embarrassed for thinking the man would have a change of heart.

You'd met the toymaker at a time when you were desperate.

You were lonely, seemingly neglected by anyone that crossed paths with you.

When Jason found you, he'd acknowledged you, and you'd listened to the toymaker profess his love about his rotten illusions, which'd seemingly appear to be the most beautiful creations in the eyes of a mortal.

He'd never really offered you a time to speak or enlighten him with the few things you'd thought were interesting about yourself, but you didn't care. You were just happy enough to have someone pay attention to you.

A year had passed since that day and you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered at the thought of the man smiling at you, or praising you for the work you'd wanted to give to him.

You'd wanted this man to love and appreciate you, but apparently that was too much to ask for.

At first you'd understood and dealt with it, but as time went on you'd cry more and more.

Even though you'd befriended Jeff along the way, you were already far too attached to Jason to look for that kind of worship from another person.

You'd wiped away a loose tear that had slipped as you'd wallowed in this emotion.

"He's not selfish. He's not a cunt. I'm just not enough for him and I never will be." You'd spoken almost as though it was an affirmation for yourself, which would repeat over and over in your head.

The smiling killer gave you a side eye, unsure of what to say that could be of any use to you in that moment. Emotions were never really his strong suit anyways, so he just played with the knife in silence.

"I'll talk to you later Jeff." Without a further glance, you'd left, progressing further into the dark woods.

You'd felt worthless.

And though you'd known it would've been better for you to work through this sickening emotion, you couldn't.

You were tired of trying.

The long trunk of the tree creaked loudly as you'd tugged on the stray piece of rope with all your might, tying it around another branch as you'd stared blankly at the small loop that dangled from it. Gently twirling in the gentle breeze.

You'd long ago silenced the warning voices in the back of your mind, that aimlessly tried to reassure you about how much you were really worth.

As you climbed up the trunk of the tree, you'd accepted the fact that you'd never really be able to feel content with yourself until the person you'd practically worshipped was pleased with you.

And if that was something you were never going to get...

...

You tightened the rope around your neck and silently sat in thought.

Your blank gaze piercing at the dirt of the forest floor below you that you were never actually going to hit, or touch again.

A soft breeze kissed your skin as if to bring you the sense of comfort you had constantly been denied. And as you embraced the cool touch of nature, you slid off the branch.

An eery creak was heard as you dangled, struggling profusely against the rope.

You'd fought desperately to keep your hands at your sides but couldn't help the frantic yelp that left your lips as you clumsily clawed at the rope around your neck, until your body finally grew limp and weak.

The Toymaker smiled as he'd felt his heart sink to a depth he'd never felt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

Like a doll, limp and lifeless, ready to be moulded to the user's desire.

Your corpse fascinated him, and though painful may have happened to be the best gift you could have given him.

He was like a child.

Egotistic, only willing to show praise towards the work of his own because he craved the attention you would give him.

Now he could only wish that he'd stopped acting so snobby and showed you how much he'd actually appreciated your efforts to give him the grandest gift of all.

He'd collected them all.

Every time you'd grow anxious, dropping it on the floor of his workshop and storming off to cry about his ignorance, he'd pick up and store every gift and trace his fingers along every part he'd believed you'd touched to sate his desire for you.

You were as precious to him as he was to you, but he would never say that.

And as he gently freed your lifeless body from the constriction of the rope and laid you in his lap on the forest floor, he sighed.

His fingers cupped your chin and he opened your mouth to speak, miming words as though they were actually coming from you, responding to him as he once again aimlessly went on about himself and nothing else.

Gloved hands stroking the messy locks of your hair, before he froze mid-sentence in silence.

Choking on a sob, he pulled you into his chest letting out cries that echoed throughout the dark forest to be heard by nobody.

Once again, he was alone.

Just like he had been for two hundred centuries and maybe many more.

𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍 ✟ 𝙳𝙾𝙾𝙼𝚂𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta headcanons #headcanon #ticci toby #jack and sally #slenderman #clockwork #masky and hoody #jeff the killer #proxy #wattpad #creepypasta proxy #laughing jack #cp masky #jane the killer #jason the toymaker #seedeater #fiction #n #jason the toymaker x reader #seven deadly sins #greed

[scltnsea]

“ there are always repercussions. ”

❛ are there, peter ?? are there truly repercussions ?? ❜ hook snarled, eyes illuminated with hatred and centuries of pent of anger that made the tip of his tongue razor sharp, words coated in a thick venom that slung itself in peter's direction. ❛ you have taken more from me than i myself can even fathom and yet i don't see a single HAIR missing from that pathetically wicked head of yours. ❜

it was true, though simultaneously, pan had given james everything. he had taken him from the other place, and who is to say that james would have been any less miserable back where he was before pan took him to neverland. there was a time in which peter was james's entire world, where he spoke nothing but the gospel truth that young, naive jamie followed with blind faith. looking in peter's eyes now, his face still the same, a bit rougher now, but his eyes gave away how much he had changed ( if only one knew to look hard enough ).

❛ is wanting to keep someone safe a deed that required the price of an innocent life, peter ?? if you wanted to punish me why did you do it at her innocent expense ?? ❜ thinking about sally just sent james's rage spiraling, a vortex swirling around the two of them that james's silently prayed would swallow them both whole. ❛ i am the way i am BECAUSE of you. everything i do... think...believe has been planted within me by you and your own mercenary, impish tongue. you have no right to not act as if the scarlet on my sleeves isn't the same that stains your palms.❜

the little boy inside of his heart wailed hysterically, beating small fists on his rib cage and pleading for him to stop being so cruel towards peter- to see him as the young boy he once loved so deeply. the man inside of james's head pleaded with him to draw his sword and steer it through peter's heart, despite knowing the effort would be fruitless, just wishing to have some satisfaction of bringing peter even a sliver of the discomfort james felt every day of his life.

❛ you are not GOD, peter pan. you are just a pathetic boy entrapped by an island and your own selfish, narcissistic madness. the only repercussions i am TRULY facing are as a result of me ever trusting you. ❜

#*𝖘𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚: PETER #this is awful im so sorry KAJSNREFKAODJS

[sir-klauz]

Okay sooo I have some OC characters in the mix as I’m focusing on getting my mind creativity flowing some more this month and I’m feeling inspired at the moment so I’m going to take it by the horns.

Each and every member of this universe are either gay men, lesbian, queer, hetero trans or gay trans.

Let me introduce 2 of them today! I might post some more later, I have a 3rd person coming along but I’ll leave it at this for now. I’ve partly drawn some of Zaph but if anyone wants to feel free to have a go at drawing them if they peak inspiration.

Rosen Lovell

She is 42 and lives a happy life married to her wife, I’ve not met her wife yet but this will be the plan for her. They own a one bedroom ground and first floor house, one room for each floor.

She’s known to be a little bit of a comedy queen, laid back and yet serious with a good work mind head on her, though, she’s pretty unkempt and doesn’t care much from keeping up appearances particularly aside from her casual chosen clothes that have a bit of flare in colour and detail. She’s also not much of an owner of a filter and can be judged for being rude within her way of talking, but honestly she just swears a lot and isn’t interested in manners which aren’t necessary, like wasting time holding the third fork on a table rather than just getting on with eating the tasty meal she would scarf down.

With that mouth of hers she does mess up social time with people but the friends she has love her for her brashness and honesty. Though don’t get too close to her or she’ll trip you or her up pretty fast as she’s rather clumsy. She’s terrible at planning anything but nothing makes her more happy that polishing up metalworks she enjoys creating at home before opening her market stall she occasionally opens to sell her wares on to make money for the family. Her wife will not be working for she is signed off for having depression, but she likes going to the market or the seaside sometimes with Rosen and enjoys gathering herbs as she’s a ferocious forager.

Favourite food? A good Cornish pasty, but vegetarian, as she remains not a fan of meat.

Rosen typically wears a yellow long shirt sleeveless tunic with red ruby buttons going up the middle. The tunic length just falls below the waist with a white billow sleeved shirt underneath. She wears blue skin fit trousers and brown shin high boots with a silver single buckle button on them on the foot.

Her voice is deep, her body muscular but slim with wide set form shoulders. Her hair is light brown woven into a crown braid with white ribbon. Her eyebrows are dark and firm set, serious.

Her eyes are pale blue, as light as the sky or baby blue pastel, her eyes surrounded by dark kohl liner with small swirling spirals for the decoration sweeping across the areas of skin set next to each eye. She wears no other makeup aside from this. With a wide set sharp jawline, she’s the envy of men who may believe themselves to be on par with her strength, and she could honestly cut a slab of wood with her jaw if she tried. Her wife certainly loves tracing her fingers across it in moments of loving marital affection.

Zaph

Zaph is 26 and a trans man. He’s currently single and does not wish to get into a relationship of marriage with anyone, but he does sometimes enjoy the company of women and men mutually. He’s not particularly keen on caring much for the people around him and is a loner but has a good and strict work ethic in which he succeeds in and does his job well.

He is talented at strategy and practices every day for at least 30 minutes with his live in housemate Locke, he enjoys dancing with a good sword or dancing for entertainment which is the only thing he doesn’t find boring about attending social parties or aristocratic balls he must attend until “marriage”, which is a knot for him as he never plans to get wed. Nonetheless, his fighting proficiency is high, even though he is slim, he is dreadfully strong, and his height aids well. He still cannot win against Rosen and admires her abilities and she regularly spars with him. He’s a big fan of her metal work and gets all his metal pieces and weaponry from her directly, they are good friends.

He enjoys witnessing the misfortune of others, and is vain and enjoys keeping his appearance up to scratch to his own liking, you won’t catch a hair out of place on his darkly dyed long slicked back purple hair. You can guarantee he has a mirror in every room and whilst being vain he is incredibly self conscious and often gets obsessed with making sure his hair and clothes are clean, plucked of flint and run away hairs set back in place.

Favourite food? Roasted trout with a side of roast potatoes, broccoli, parsnips, gravy, and a small side portion of turbot or cod. He loves fish and can’t get enough of it. He enjoys a good flask of honey and apple rum, but is happy being treated to an ale at a bar.

He enjoys playing tennis in leisure time and owns a set of professional rackets and equipment and plays with the local men from the Goths United Regional Tennis Club.

He’s agnostic and sees to remain that way, he’s very focused on work and doesn’t have any beliefs at the moment but he is a descendant of human and elves. He doesn’t follow his families elven faiths.

His voice is deep and lulling, his partners enjoy hearing a soothing lullaby of song for them to drift off to sleep and he is an accomplished singer but never had any interest in pursuing this. He’s not particularly considerate but this is a small area where this shows a little.

He wears a modest amount of rings on his fingers, but they do contain precious stones in them, and his attire is mostly purple garments with a high collar and brown shin high boots. He also wears a thick silver chain necklace around his neck.

His cheeks are powdered with rouge and lips painted with grey lipstick. His eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. His irises are white.

#ocean of rengezfir #ocs #original character #my ocs #my oc stuff #my oc story #my oc character #my oc writing #queer artist #queer writers #queer characters #trans characters #trans fiction #queer fiction #queer fic #mlm fiction #wlw fiction #transgender fiction #bisexual fiction #lgbtqia fiction #lgbtqia #lgbt writer #lgbt artist #gay artist #gay writer