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#That would be so Pointless to EVERYONE'S stories PLEASE -
rileyglas · 2 days
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The List ~Pt. 7.5 - Clarity~
Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader
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Summary: Written from Alastor's POV, this chapter gives insight of what the Radio Demon is up to during Part 7. Feeling like you (Alastor) are going mad, you makes a visit to your dearest friend leading to a shocking confession to Husker.
Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Rosie is the sweetest, slow burn, poor Husker, and of course 18+
A/N: This part isn't necessarily needed to follow the story however it was fun to do something a little different. I tried writing in Alastor's voice and give a (small) glimpse into his side.
3.6k Words
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Seven.A (You're on it!)
**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader/Alastor
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This is maddening. You buried yourself in pointless work. Anything to refrain from having to leave your tower and see the others around the hotel, especially her. The foreign ache in your chest only throbbed more at the thought of seeing the hurt in her eyes. Reckless fool! How could I allow her to make me feel such emotions? Almost a hundred years of creating my image and some sinner has the ability to destroy me like this - no - of course not…she was never just some sinner…
Slumping over the scattered paperwork across the desk, you bury your head in your claws. Time was non-existent. Has it been hours? Weeks? Months? No, couldn’t have been that long since you watched her entire being shatter right in front of you. The pain was too much for it to have been that long. This was supposed to just be a partnership, a power grab…How did I end up like this? The radio tower has been your home since she left. You were far too prideful to go back to your room, too afraid of what would happen the moment you caught a whiff of her perfume that surely lingered in every grain of wood and every fiber of your sheets. 
A few soft taps at the door pull you from your tormented mind. Quickly standing from the desk, you straighten your shirt and throw on the same suit jacket you’ve worn for who knows how long. I must keep up appearances, no one can suspect anything otherwise. 
With a shake of your head, you plaster on the usual smile and open the door to see Charlie and Vaggie. “Hey Al! Just wanted to let you know we are about to head up to Heaven for a few hours. Mind keeping an eye on the hotel while we are gone?” Charlie beamed with an excitement that quite contrasted her partner's uncomfortable scowl. 
“Of course my dear! Your hotelier has everything covered.” you chime with a half-hearted bow. Vaggie steps forward, obviously annoyed, “Don’t set anything on fire, don’t destroy any more walls, and please for the hundredth time - keep Nifty out of our room. Last time she tried to throw out all my clothes!”  You hum in acknowledgement and follow a concerningly bouncy Charlie down to the lobby where, like clockwork, a portal to Heaven opens. “Common Vaggie! Bye everyone!” Charlie hops through the portal, dragging a less than amused Vaggie behind her. 
“Sheesh Smiles, you look like -” Angel starts to say before promptly shutting up and going back to his phone after seeing the glare you shoot towards him. Twirling your cane, you walk over to the bar where Husk tentatively pulls out a glass as if silently asking if you wanted a drink. You wave him off, “No need Husker. I have much to do today and need to be of a clear head.” Yeah right, like I’ve managed a clear head at all lately. “Though I am curious, where is our charming little friend? I heard she had fallen ill.”
Husk shrugs but Angel is quick to chime in, “Oh Charlie sent her to get some things from town and take them to Lucifer. She’ll probably be back soon…as long as Lucifer doesn’t take up too much of her time - if you know what I mean.” Angel mutters the last part seductively with a wink. A fiery rage burns through your veins. How dare he insinuate something so repulsive!? The urge to shred the sinner limb from limb boils over and your eyes flash to him, “It’d be wise to keep such vile comments to yourself spider.” you hiss through gritted teeth. A relaxed smile returns as you regain composure and walk away. Without her around, you figure you’ll have some time to freely move about the hotel, busying yourself with the usual to-dos.
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You finish the last of your tasks and begin to head back to the tower when Vaggie and Charlie come flying back through a portal, landing harshly on their backs. Tears flood Charlie’s face. She pulls out her phone to make a call, “Dad, you were right. It was horrible!” she says before hanging up. Within seconds another portal opens within the lobby, this time Lucifer coming through. Of course he has to make a grand appearance. 
Your attention snaps back to Charlie in time to see her shove Vaggie away and bolt up the stairs. Now would be a good time to make quite an impression on the girl. You attempt to follow the princess but Lucifer drives his elbow into your side, forcing you into the railing. Every muscle in your face twists in annoyance at the pretentious little “King”. The urge to go after him is quickly snuffed by the feeling of eyes burning into your back. 
A glance over your shoulder makes your heart drop into your stomach. There she is, staring into you. Her eyes didn’t have their bright sparkle and she looked utterly exhausted even with all the makeup. Did she always put on so much? No, she hated caking it on. I really did a number on her didn’t I? Her usually bright smile is replaced with a grim look of…Anger? Concern? Pain? You don’t have enough time to read her before Lucifer makes his way back down the stairs. 
“She seems to need some time alone.” he announces as he makes his way back over to the shell of a woman standing before you. You watch as he pulls her flush with his body, greedy hands snaking up her sides. He mumbles something before placing his foul lips against her skin and disappearing into red ribbons. 
Her face mirrors your feelings of disgust at his touch. Did he force himself on her? I swear if he hurt - You catch yourself stepping towards her. Every ounce of your being longed to wrap her into your arms. Your heart begged to pour yourself into her, to remove every trace of Lucifer from her body. Her gaze meets yours again. You freeze. The pain behind the eyes that stared back at you made your knees nearly buckle. What is wrong with me… With a nod you slink into your shadow. I believe it’s time to visit someone who can help.
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It was always a pleasure to be in Rosie’s presence. You can’t quite remember how you met but you knew she was easily your oldest, truest friend here in Hell. Usually you didn’t dally much about romance, her self-proclaimed specialty, but right now you could use any insight she could give. 
“Alastor! How I’ve missed seeing that dazzling smile of yours!” Rosie pulls you into her ever smothering hug,  “Come along, I was just getting some tea. Tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of such company?”
You remain quiet as you sit at the table to pour two cups of tea, smile faltering just enough to tell her something was very wrong. “Oh darlin’, what’s going on? I can’t recall a time you’ve looked so distressed.” It was strange hearing yourself try to explain these last few months. You’ve always made it a point to be very well spoken, years of broadcasting have ingrained it into your mind. But today you fumbled your words telling Rosie how you wound up in this position - with these…feelings.
“Oh my stars. I never thought this day would come.” She sits back in her chair in astonishment. Your ears perk up at her short response, “What do you mean dear?” Rosie leans back towards you, gently placing a hand atop yours, “Alastor darling, you’re in love!” 
An uneasy feeling washes over you. Your hand quickly retracts at the mention of that word. Love? What a ridiculous notion. It’s fruitless…unnecessary…weak…
Her face softens at your doubtful silence, “All of those moments, the desires, even the pain…it’s obvious you’ve fallen head over heels for that gal. She must be quite a charmer to get you this worked up!” she laughs giddily but you’re far from amused at this assumption. 
“Rosie dear, I’m not some hopeless romantic. I don't have the time nor the need for such frivolous things.” She frowns at your bitter denial. You can see she’s reeling, trying to find her next words. She stands up and begins pacing the room, still unable to conjure the right response. Your frustration grows as you try to reason with her, “Look, I just need to figure out how to be rid of this. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely think without her somehow worming her way into my mind.”
Her dark eyes snap to you, “You admit you want more than just a mutual partnership?”
“Well yes -”
She steps closer to you, “And you crave her presence, her touch, her voice?”
“Always but - “
“Do you desire a future with her and only her?”
Irritated, you try to answer once again, “At one point yes howev-”
“Alastor, do not deny yourself love just because you don’t fully understand it! It is not a weakness - no sir - it’s quite the contrary.” 
“Enough!” The table jolts beneath your now balled up fists, “What does it matter!? She loathes me! I set fire to her and burned any trust or feelings she could possibly have for me! I ran her off - straight into that imbecile's arms!” you snarl with a heavy static filling the air. 
A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. You look up at Rosie like a remorseful child, “She’d never believe me even if I told her…” you say softly. She squeezes your shoulder before returning to her chair and taking a sip from her cup. “Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth. Don’t allow your pride to get in the way of what you could have.” Her tone turns sharp and concise, “Now, I know you and I know you’re not one to hold onto what ‘could have been’ or fret over past mistakes. But I’m telling you from experience, if you don’t at least try with this girl, you will regret it.” The words drive into you like a hot knife.
A heavy silence falls between you two while a battle rages in your mind. She’s never steered me wrong before, but how can she be so sure? She hasn’t even met this girl and she can already make these incredibly bold assumptions. You finish your tea and stand from the table. Walking over to Rosie’s chair, you bend down to peck her cheek with a quiet, “Thank you.” before stepping into your shadow to return to the hotel. 
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In the past you’d have a drink or two to celebrate a victory or to get Mimzy off your case about ‘the good old days’, but tonight you wanted to be numb. “Another.” you demand, slamming the glass against the hotel bar. 
Husk cautiously pours more into your cup, “Uh boss, you doin’ alright?” Before he can finish his question your glass is empty and pounds the bar again, “Another!” you repeat. Husk couldn’t figure out if he should be amused or scared about your sudden change in demeanor. He pours you more, not daring to say no to the demon who owned his soul so tightly. 
You weren’t keeping count of how many drinks you managed to take into your body. Truthfully you didn’t care. The liquor was supposed to make the thoughts stop and numb everything but you found it only amplified with each glass. “Husker…Did - did you see him?” your speech might have been perfect but your mind was definitely beginning to blur. 
“See who?” Husk asked nervously looking around, wondering what strange delusions you might be seeing. 
You hiccup and laugh at his oblivious reaction, “That King…putting his hands all over her. He’s trying to take what is rightfully mine. He has no business touching her in such ways!” you growl as another hiccup leaves your chest. 
“Oh - uh yeah I saw that. She didn’t seem too happy about it either -”
“You’re damn right she wasn’t!” you shout louder than intended.
“Right…” Husk trails off, unsure of how to handle you in this new state of drunken anger, “Look, you don’t have to tell me but you’re definitely drinkin’ to forget something.” he says, trying to tread lightly. 
You signal for another drink while shaking your head in response to his question, “My dear Husker I - I think I’ve developed…feelings - “ The sudden sound of a bottle shattering makes you jump out of your chair. Looking over the bar you see Husker frantically cleaning up the bottle he dropped out of pure shock. 
He looks up at you, eyes wide with bewilderment, “Fuck sorry, I just thought I heard - feelings? What kind of feelings are we talkin?”
You slam another drink back, “Seeing him with her did something to me. It…hurt…It felt like a knife plunged into my chest.” If you were paying closer attention, you’d hear his snarky retort, “If only it was a real knife….” but you’re too preoccupied inside your own mind. Husk finishes cleaning the floor and leans against the bar, grabbing a new bottle and pouring you another without asking.
Why am I even talking with him? I didn’t think liquor could affect me so much down here. Ignoring instinct, you happily down another without wasting any time. The burn washes over your body and a peculiar sense of clarity suddenly hits, “I love that girl.” you say plainly, without a shimmer of doubt. 
Another bottle shatters against the floor along with the glasses Husk was starting to carry to the sink. “Fucking get it together Husker! Do you need gloves or something?! You’re wasting perfectly good rye!!! They would have had your head back in my day for such careless actions!” you shout at the now completely stunned bartender. He stares at you, eyes wider than saucers. Annoyed with the sudden lack of conversation from the demon - It is quite rude of him to just keep staring, I mean really - you slink away into your tower to be left with your thoughts. While you climb the stairs, you don’t bother looking back to see Husk’s mortified face as he mumbles frantically to himself, “What…in the actual fuck…just happened…I need a drink, wait no, I need ten drinks...and where the hell is Angel when you need him!?”
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Your buzz begins to fade as you pace your tower, somehow causing everything to hit you tenfold. Rosie was right, I can’t deny this any longer. What am I going to do…hell what can I do? Why is this so hard to -
Three loud knocks reverberate through the tower. You still, not daring to give the person on the other side any clues as to if you were there or not. Please just go away, I don’t have the patience or clear mind for anyone right now. Your shadow tugs violently at your pant leg, signally the urgency of answering the door. You warily turn the knob and focus your eyes on the dimly lit woman in front of you. All the air leaves your lungs.
F-fuck…
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Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)
@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 @eris-norwega @kaylopolis @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @laudrawin @qu1cks1lversb1tch
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benetnvsch · 8 months
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just had a dreadful fucking vision where bones makes an anime original ending for bsd since it'll be caught up with the manga next episode but there's still more season left after that and in that ending chuuya doesn't actually shoot Dazai or whatever and the two go off to beat Fyodor with the power of love/friendship/whatever and just oGHGHGKH ISTG they better not fuck things up like that or I will literally eat dirt-
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cuddlytogas · 1 year
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entering my bitch era (trying to get more into twitter fandom and finding my tl flooded with people talking about A Certain Popular AU Fic that is, frankly, mostly just fine, and being overwhelmed with some of the pettiest little jealous rages you ever did see)
#pointless post is pointless#like damn at least [other popular au fic] is extremely fucking good#where's MY fandom-within-a-fandom?? where's MY pages and pages of fanart??#plus i'm so sick of smau's since joining twitter it's going to drive me crazy#everyone and their god damn dog has about four on the go what the shit#not that the format /can't/ be used well but so many of them are boring and badly written#and still have big followings because - ???????#because i have no idea why#also reading fic on twitter is a nightmare and i don't know why anyone would prefer it over ao3#broken threads and the inability to edit and jfc#when you COULD have centralised tags and word counts and chapter breaks and edits#is it just because it's suited to mobile format????? what IS it about these things that seems to have captured everyone so much??#UUUGGGHHHHHHHH#please no one take this as an attack i am fully aware i'm being a mean and jealous little killjoy lol#maybe i really do just have an overinflated sense of my own talent lmao#edit: OH AND OF COURSE on twt you need to ADD ALT TEXT TO IMAGES THAT ARE NOTHING BUT SCREENSHOTTED PROSE#because the basic premise of a smau is actually really fucking difficult to execute#(a story told primarily through the medium of images text messages and social media exchanges)#so most of them resort to PRIMARILY using prose interspersed with flavour images#in which case WHY would you post it on TWITTER#the defining feature of which is A VERY SMALL CHARACTER LIMIT
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Well, it's been a year since the last episode came out, and the rest of ch2 still isn't done. I am well aware that this is the case so there is no need to remind me.
Working on ch2p2 is very difficult and tiring, and it is more time-consuming than usual. So it seems it will take a long time. I will not go into reasons as to why this is the case. I rewrote this post many times trying to express my feelings or explain the reasons things are taking this long, but it seems like it always comes out as sounding really miserable. So instead, I'm just going to say nothing about the matter and move on.
It would be nice to post some preview of ch2p2, but it would either be spoilers, or it would be so generic to avoid spoiling anything that it kind of looks indistinguishable from the first half of the trial. It feels pointless. That is why, for the time being, it's possible I might be posting a lot more about things unrelated to ch2p2, like my other Fangan. This is just because I feel compelled to make a post once a month, yet I am running out of things I can say or show about DRDT.
I can make no promises about the release date of ch2p2 at this time. But I promise that it will be done one day. No matter how painful it becomes or how many difficulties I face, I want to see it through to the end. It might take a long time, but I can't give up. So please put your faith in me.
As always, thank you everyone for the support you've given me.
Some addition things that are of no concern to the casual viewer ↓
There is a lot of discussion about the "progress bar" and sometimes I receive questions about it, so I will talk about it for a bit.
Yes, I update it frequently. But it reflects "time left in the story before completion", not "time left in real life before completion."
Basically, it poorly accounts for things that take a long time to make, like the argument armament, the closing argument, the execution. For example, it's lucky if I can sketch out a single panel of the closing argument per day, but once it's all finished it will only look like a few percentage points increased. Even if it's at 90% I feel like there would still be a long time before things were finished.
As they say, "the final uphill stretch is the hardest of all"... Or something like that................
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Drabble List #9
75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.
"This is just pointless."
"Fine, I'll just do it myself."
"Don't make me jealous."
"Want to watch a movie with me?"
"Much ado about nothing, right?"
"Keep me in your memories."
"I will miss you, I guess."
"Wow. You're phenomenal!"
"That is actually not comforting to hear."
"I want to show you what I can do."
"You guys are toxic for each other."
"Let's live in a cottage far away from everyone."
"Can you please just shut up for once?"
"I would rather not talk about it."
"No worry, you weren't that obvious."
"Do you want me to hit you?"
"I should really stop being a coward."
"Who did you ask?"
"Let's go on a walk."
"You're the one in control here."
"It's enough for now."
"Single, definitely not ready to mingle."
"Could you please repeat that?"
"I've got a very important question for you."
"We're all getting older."
"Did you drink anything today?"
"Not a single thought was put into this."
"Don't be so pessimistic."
"I think we've done all we can."
"Let's call the number and see who answers."
"Well, what's plan B?"
"A funny story actually..."
"I'm officially out of ideas."
"What a mess you made."
"You will not believe it!"
"I feel like I already lost."
"Care to explain all of this?"
"But I didn't do anything!"
"How can I help you today?"
"Please, get away from there."
"No, you didn't connect anything."
"Yeah, I'm okay, thank you."
"Don't shh me!"
"Hey, a little help please?"
"It's a sad sad world."
"Oh no, we're not going there!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Can you please call my mom?"
"If you want to be an idiot, be an idiot."
"That's how it's going to be, I'm afraid."
"Why do you need my approval?"
"Check mate, my mate!"
"I'm not going to jail for this."
"Such a sweet, innocent angel."
"Don't risk your life for me."
"Oh, I like a challenge."
"Not bad, but also not very good."
"Fine, I'll play along."
"It's not in my job description."
"A good question that I don't want to answer."
"Not going to say, 'cause I ain't a snitch."
"Stop this nonsense right now!"
"Think about me however you want."
"I'm not leaving so get used to me."
"Oh, the consequences for bad decisions."
"Just saying, but I'm much better for you."
"How are you holding up?"
"All the love to you, my man."
"Not my fault at all."
"I may have made a tiny little mistake."
"That is way above my pay grade."
"How the hell would I know?"
"I'm not exactly a fighter."
"So sweet of you, you're an angel."
"Thank you for bringing me home."
Drabble Masterlist
Have fun creating and writing!
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
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rileyslibrary · 11 months
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How about this: After some especially rough missions, Ghost is on edge, his mental health hanging by a thread. Of course he doesn't admit it and powers through training and everything, but everyone knows he needs help, something to balance him out again.
Even the doctors are on their wits ends with him at this point, so they try a new approach and assign him to some animal assisted therapy. OF COURSE he hates the idea - waste of time and he is fine anyway...
So reader and their animal are invited to base to try and help him. (Or reader is the team mate, and the therapist an additional character - how ever, you know best.) I'll leave to you which animal it will be. ;-)
Ghost & Peppa (the dog)
Anon, hold my purse while I fill this with warnings:
Brief mentions of war
Mentions of physical & emotional trauma
This story is purely fictional and should not be considered an accurate representation of the practices and/or effects of Animal-Assisted Therapy
I did NOT cry while writing this. I’m fine.
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He’s fine. Of course, he is.
Nothing wrong with collecting mutilated bodies after a bomb explosion—It’s part of the job.
What about him getting shot? Ah well, it got him on his shoulder—that doesn’t count. It wasn’t life-threatening, according to him. He was fine.
He had to talk to someone. You all tried to pass the idea to him. Everyone except Gaz, who didn’t want to get involved since he, too, was going through some shit.
Soap told him straight away. “Mate, you need to talk to somebody”.
“I got nothing to say”, was his response.
Price was more subtle. Such a tactful guy, your captain. He tried to bring the subject up by sharing his own therapy experiences.
“Opening up and feeling vulnerable was difficult,” he said, “but I pushed through.”
But all he received was a shrug and a stern “glad it worked out for you. I’m fine.”
And you? You tried to cheer him up, calm him down, make him talk.
Nothing.
For the past two months, he has been training daily, hitting that punchbag and bench pressing like a maniac. He was pushing his physical limits, attempting to lift barbells equal to his weight, and you were looking at a person struggling to lift the weight of his conscience.
But he was fine.
Until Gaz came one day and pitched an idea to the captain: “Animal-assisted therapy” they called it. The doctors assigned it to him, and it helped. So, why not give it a try with Ghost?
The lieutenant hated the idea. Hated it. Why? Because “it was pointless and stupid” to him.
Plus, he was fine.
But Price placed his thumbs under his shoulder straps and told him it was an order. And nobody messed with the captain when he put his thumbs under his shoulder straps.
The therapist arrived the following week with Peppa, the dog.
“Peppa, like the pig?”
That was Ghost’s first question. And upon the therapist’s first nod, the follow-up question came.
“Why the fuck would you name the dog Peppa?”
The therapist explained that Peppa’s first patient was a little girl who struggled with anxiety. She named her Peppa after the cartoon character, and the name stuck.
Days turned into weeks, and although he initially protested against the therapy sessions, he was now willingly participating in them. Almost looking forward to them.
“Can’t come to training today; got a meeting with Peppa.” He would say.
Such compliance? From Ghost? How?
You all reached a conclusion because you needed an explanation that could make sense—Ghost wasn’t engaging with the therapist as much; he was opening up to the dog.
Peppa became his silent confidante.
He was playing with her and scolding her for eating too fast. Sometimes, he would ask her “why she was so sad” or “so devious” and why she was always drooling. In response, Peppa would just whine, wiggle her tail, or tilt her head, and Ghost would interpret her reactions as he pleased.
Although you could all see the improvement in his demeanour, you still worried about his well-being.
But whenever you asked him how he was, his response remained the same.
He was fine.
You tried to shift the focus and ask how the therapy was going instead. Yet, Ghost would still cling to his standard response.
Fine.
And then, the therapist advised to do something else instead.
“Ask him how Peppa is doing.”
And that simple question, about the dog’s well-being, unveiled the hidden side of his emotions. He would open up, and recount how Peppa was feeling a bit down one day, seemed too scared another day, or ate very little. He projected his own feelings and experiences onto the dog. He used her as a vessel to express his inner turmoil, revealing his struggles in a way that felt more comfortable and less vulnerable to him.
After all, it was the dog’s struggles, not his own.
He was fine.
“Do you think Peppa gets a payslip every month?” you joked one day as you looked at Peppa lying next to Ghost. “For having a job and all?”
“Peppa was a stray, you know; she always fought to survive.” he replied, kissing her head, “poor thing.”
“Poor thing,” you repeated, this time looking at him.
He knew he wasn’t fine. You all knew.
But Peppa didn’t pressure him to do or say anything.
She wouldn’t urge him to “talk to somebody” or “try meditation.”
She would insinuate, in her own way, that she was there for him.
Looking at him with her tongue out and a wide smile across her face.
Whining and demanding more pets.
Giving him the ball so they can play fetch.
Reminding him that caring for himself was just as important as those gentle scratches behind her ear.
“We’re in this together, human—you will be fine.”
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oneawkwardwriter · 4 days
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So High School
pairing: James Potter x fem!reader warnings/tags: none except some teeth rotting fluff, possibly inaccurate Quidditch team (I didn't know everyone's positions), allusions to suggestive content?, no use of Y/n summary: just James being an absolutely amazing boyfriend totally not self-insert what- a/n: and thus begins the saga of me taking Taylor Swift songs and turning them into stories about fictional characters. Don't even act like you're surprised, you shouldn't be by now <3 Also, I've been wanting to write for James but couldn't get it right, so a little thank you to Miss Taylor for making this possible wc: 0.8k
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"And another goal made by Gryffindor chaser James Potter!" Remus shouts into the microphone while he reacts to the latest Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. "That is three in a row for Gryffindor. Sorry, Ravenclaw, it seems like you'll have no chance of winning today, better forfeit already-"
He is cut off by Professor McGonagall taking the mic out of his hands, "Don't get forget to stay objective, Mr. Lupin," She says, just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, but the crowd is too busy cheering to hear it.
James does a victory lap on his broom, flying close to the crowd. When he comes close to your section, he sends a quick wink in your direction. You lightly chuckle and roll your eyes when a couple of first years nearly faint from being so close to their unrequited hallway crush.
Not that you can entirely blame them, seeing as you yourself still can't shake the giddy feeling of butterflies whenever James wraps his arms around you. Sure, you'd been dating for about half a year, but somehow he still managed to make your heart skip a beat.
Not long after, the match is over when Marlene manages to catch the Snitch. Louds cheers erupt once more from the spectators on the stands, and soon enough, they're running onto the field to greet the victors.
You're pulled along in the flood of people, practically carried towards the field until the crowd parts for the Gryffindor team. You smile as you lock eyes with James, who practically storms right at you before trapping you in a bear hug, slightly lifting you off the crowd.
"That was amazing!" You say as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You did so great out there."
"Only because my lucky charm was in the stands," James replies, burying his face in your neck as he grins, "Couldn't have done it without you cheering me on." You chuckle, knowing arguing against him would be pointless even though you know he's a great player whether you're there or not.
The celebrations continued in the Gryffindor common room, the firewhiskey flowing while people cheered, laughed and talked to each other. Throughout the entire night, James held you practically glued to his hip: always an arm around your shoulders or waist, kissing the top of your head or your cheek.
"-And then Mary fired that Bludger at the Ravenclaw Seeker, and I ducked down for the Quaffle, and then-" James rants about the game, completely caught up in his story.
"Remember to breathe, James. We don't need you passing out," Remus says, making everyone laugh and James shake his head.
"Oh please, as if I could breathe when this one here takes my breath away the entire time," James quips, "Not that I mind, though. I'd gladly pass out if it meant you sitting next to me in the hospital wing."
"James!" You exclaim.
"What? It's true," He responds shamelessly as he shrugs, making the others shake their heads and chuckle.
As if you weren't already glued to his side, James pulls you even closer to him, making you laugh when his breath tickles the nape of your neck.
"Oh come on, can you two act even more like high school sweethearts? We're getting cavities from looking at you " Sirius groans, to which you only raise an eyebrow and reply with, "That's rich coming from the guy who had his tongue down his boyfriend's throat less than a minute ago."
"I don't see the relevance of you pointing that out, but alright," Sirius replies with mock-ignorance as he sits close to Remus, who nuzzles his face in Sirius's nape and softly smiles.
As the night progressed, the firewhiskey started to take over your systems, making you a bit more bold and unfiltered.
"You know, sometimes I still don't understand how we got together," You say, slightly slurring your words as you look at James.
"Oh god, here we go again," Sirius sighed, turning to Remus, "James is going to confess his undying love for her again."
"Hey, I can't help it that this perfect angel walked into my life, you have Remus to blame for that," James shrugged as he kisses your cheek for the millionth time that night.
You and Remus had been friends ever since first year, finding companionship in your shared love for literature and classic history. James swears he fell for you when you were rambling about the works of some ancient philosopher, claiming that you could light up an entire city with the energy you put into it.
"Well, I don't know about perfect angel, but thank you anyway," You say, resting your head on James's shoulder as you whisper in his ear. "I love you, James."
"I love you too, love."
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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 months
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JJK crew with Fem sweet S/O who’s been heavily abused verbally and sometimes physically by her relatives, the only family she has left. They make her do chores and they make her sleep outside in a tent. She feels like she owes them for taking her in so despite being hurt and malnourished, she does whatever they say. JJK crew including Gojo, Itadori, Megumi, Nobara, and anyone else in mind?
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A/N: Honestly, the majority of the students are throwing either hands or words. I combined two requests because I felt like I would’ve been repeating myself otherwise, and the requests share more similarities than not so smoosh! The main difference was the second request asked for a reader immuned to cursed techniques because their family would curse them out of jealousy and for being mixed/hafu. I also tried to focus more on the reaction than the actual abuse.
Tags: non-graphic abuse mentions, hurt/comfort, fem!reader
•---------•
Maki
Maki has seen this story before – the hateful stares and the mocking laughter, stepping down on even the smallest hope to dream. Being told again and again how useless you were, how worthless, that clinging to dreams, wanting more was all pointless.
When you reveal that the reason you’re so strong is because others made you feel weak, she encourages you. “Then, prove them wrong. You don’t have to live your life the way others believe you should.”
She tries to get you to speak up more, not necessarily to your family but about everything. You’re a kind person and quiet but she feels like you never truly speak your mind, wanting to please everyone.
Whenever she sees someone trying to berate or annoy you, she’s quick to ask why they’re fine talking down to you in private and not in front of her. She may never say it out loud but she’s a bit overprotective of the people she likes.
She eventually offers you a choice: when she takes over her clan, you should join her in building a place where you both can be accepted.
Geto
He’s intuitive to tell you don’t like your clan. The few times he’s met them, they weren’t the politest to him either since he comes from a non-sorcerer family but it’s still strange that they treat a total stranger way better than their own clan member. It clicks more when you explain he’s “pureblood” and you’re not, so they like you even less.
He becomes a bit more protective of you after that, inviting you to hang out with him since you two non-sorcerer blooded people should stick together. It seems to take some of your apprehension away.
It still makes him angry to think about though, even more frustrated whenever your other clan members ignore his speeches on how you’re all sorcerers and that they should treat each other with more care.
They obviously don’t appreciate it, but you do. So, his main goal is to at least make you feel better about the situation through little jokes here and there and trying to convince you that you shouldn’t worry about them because the school can be your family now.
He knows it doesn’t completely fix everything, but he hopes you can see that at least the rest of them care about you.  
Megumi
Like Geto, he can tell beforehand that you’re uncomfortable talking about your family. You get the same look he does when someone new accidentally asks him about his family, both his father and his connection with the Zen’in clan.
Megumi always figures it’s not in his place to ask, when you’re ready to talk about it, you will. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t really become an issue until he sees you actually interact with your family, and how nasty they could be with you, overtly and the disgustingly passive, micro-aggressive way that only old family lines could pull off.
As much as you hate how your family treats you and as much as you hate explaining it to him, you’re more worried that telling others will make them realize that you’re no good and that the other students wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore if they found out about your status and the fact half your family weren’t from here, let alone sorcerers, which is a big reason why you never shared the information.
Megumi doesn’t really care about what most people think especially people who he considers trash. You’re sweet and kind, and that’s really all that matters to him, so you shouldn’t think that he nor the others wouldn’t be your friend because of your birth.
He has no problem telling your nosier cousins that he’s friends with you because he thinks you’re the most outstanding member of your clan—only when asked though.
He will never give you the time to question him or to doubt your relationship together. Any “buts” or “Megumi—” about you not wanting to bring him into your family life or to try to distance yourself is met with “Don’t care” or “No,” to shut down that line of thoughts.
It becomes a little more common for you to spend the night over in his dorm instead of going home at night but he’s still working on convincing you to give up your family entirely like he did.
Gojo
Gojo keeps trying to wiggle himself in your life any chance he gets. He really likes meeting new people especially during high school, you’re included in that when you join his second year.
Unfortunately, you don’t like him for some reason, you don’t like him. You keep avoiding him and barely talk to him, and it’s killing him to know why. Because who could hate him?
It takes a long time of poking at you (your sides specifically) and teasing you to finally get you to admit that your family told you not to talk to him, not to draw his attention, don’t so much as breathe near him. Because you should be lucky to go to the same school as a member of the Gojo Clan, let alone THE heir, and that you shouldn’t be a burden to him.
“Oh, is that right?” Once you tell him your clan’s name (the name you couldn’t use because they didn’t want you representing them) then he fully understands. He knows them well enough.
He immediately wants to go to your house. He wants to visit, in fact Suguru should go! And why not Shoko, too? He’s going to live up the royal treatment from your folks, even as you protest for him not to go. Maybe he’ll ask for all the good drinks and put his feet up on their fancy table?
But why not? He just wants to talk to them and tell them about his new best friend in the world: you. He wants to tell them how he’s so happy how well they treat his adorable little underclassman. And, oh, your room is so tiny, smaller than his walk-in closet, and there’s nothing in there, almost like they only now remember the room exists since he asked about your room. Haven’t they ever thought about getting you a bigger space? Oh, they were planning to let you move into the guest room? Great idea! Wow, then you’re definitely going to need some new clothes to fill that nice new closet, he’ll have to send some. And it’d be rude if he sees someone else in the clothes his clan gifted specifically for you, huh?
When asked why he decided to do that, he says he already told you why: you’re his cute little underclassman.
And he always treats you as such too. Always buying you things to take home and pampering you. Always inviting you out to eat with him and telling you to eat up because he can’t finish it all by himself, and that pretty girls should eat a lot and that you should try every dessert at a new bakery with him.
He constantly asks about your family life now too, to make sure you’re still doing okay, and that when you graduate you should leave them because you don’t owe them anything for being a child who needed help.
Nobara
She’s seeing red when she sees you hurt or when she sees you cry. Society already treats women so awful, and it hurts seeing you be treated evilly by people who are supposed to care about you.
There’s no stopping her when she puts her mind to something. Normally, you could convince her not to retaliate against your family but when she sees any mark on you it’s the last straw.
She’s going to gather your things and kick over that stupid excuse for a “room” they’ve given you and bring you with her. She doesn’t care if she has to share her small space with you as long as you’re safe. She’s sure Gojo can get a new dorm ready for you in no time flat, so it isn’t even a big deal to be sharing a bed for a little while with you.
It feels warm and safe in her hold, and she doesn’t forget to ever tell you how much she loves you and how wonderful a person you are, that she admires you for always being so kind despite your upbringing.
She isn’t afraid to tell you that you don’t owe those people shit while also promising to take you out for new clothes and something to eat. The guilt eats at her for not protecting you sooner, and it makes her want to punch the wall every time she’d think of how dizzy you would get somedays. She had her suspicions but didn’t trust her gut. She promises herself not to make that mistake again.
Anytime you need to do anything with your family, she makes you promise to tell her and let her come with you or one of the others.
Itadori
You manage to pull the wool over his eyes for longer than you expected. You tell him that your family means well and that it’s tough love. Itadori understands that to a small degree. His grandpa was a little ornery, but Itadori always could tell that his grandpa loved him. Megumi can be a bit abrasive, but Itadori can tell Megumi cares about them. With your family, he doesn’t get that vibe.
It’s even worse than he thinks when he finally hears from your own mouth what’s going on, so much that he wants to cry for you because you won’t do it for yourself because you’ve gotten so used to the treatment that even your own body adapted, all because you feel like you can’t be ungrateful and leave your family.
He’ll do the best that he can to help, assisting you in running your errands so that you can have a break, but he still feels so lost because even if he wanted to fight them, he can’t attack an entire clan, and he doesn’t have the weight to do something about it himself especially when you beg him to keep between the two of you.
He’s trying so desperately to convince you that none of your home life is normal while you bury down that fact that you know he’s right.
Itadori quickly makes it one of his ultimate goals to save you like he wants to do with everyone else he meets. Sure, he can’t save everyone, and sure, he can’t exactly get rid of Sukuna just yet, but you’re right here in front of him, and he should be able to save you because he loves you.
•---------•
P.S.A. Please remember to reach out to someone if you’re undergoing any type of abusive situations from family members or other domestic partners, or if you suspect someone is going through those things.
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soupthatistohot · 9 months
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BSD 109 Spoilers!!!
I will always always ALWAYS come back to this panel when talking about Asagiri’s storytelling.
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At its very core, BSD is an absurdist text, Kafka Asagiri having been inspired by many absurdist authors. Franz Kafka, who he took his pseudonym from is one of them. Albert Camus, basically the most well-known absurdist is referenced with the Mersault prison, the name of which comes from a character in his most famous absurdist work, The Stranger. 
Absurdism is the belief that the world around us is irrational and inherently absurd and that explicitly seeking meaning is pointless. In his essay The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus explains, that there is value in the act of rebellion, though. Sisyphus, who has been doomed to roll a boulder up a mountain only for the boulder to tumble back down each time he reaches the peak, finds meaning in the act of continuing to push the boulder. Even though he will continue this cycle for all of eternity, he doesn’t just lay down and give up, he rebels against the absurdity of his situation by continuing to push the boulder, despite the seemingly futile nature of the act. 
As I said earlier, BSD is an absurdist text. All of the animanga’s main characters are on a journey of discovering their meaning in life, and their place in the world, and they do this by rebelling against its absurdity — especially Dazai. 
Dazai sees the absurd world for what it is, and when he was in the PM, he hated it. Thus, he sought suicide as a solution. I will note here that absurdists generally view suicide as a failure to rebel against the absurd, just giving up and giving into hopelessness. But ever since Dazai left the PM and took Oda’s advice, he’s been rebelling against this, doing good despite his inherent beliefs about morality and the world, and he’s absolutely gotten better for it. 
Other characters embody this idea of rebelling against the absurd, hell, that’s kinda what this whole arc is about. The world is literally ending, and things seem to be at their absolute worst, but someone like Atsushi still has hope that he can change the minds of the hunting dogs and save reality as we know it. He even has hope that he can get through to a vampiric Akutagawa when the guy is literally brainwashed and attacking him. Aya as the “last hope” right now embodies this, too, deciding that she can’t just sit around and do nothing and then trying to remove the sword from Bram even though the effort appears futile. 
But everything is going wrong right now. Fukuzawa is bleeding out, Dazai has just been shot through the forehead and appears to have died, Atsushi’s had his limbs ripped off and is at Akutagawa’s mercy, and Fukuchi is literally going to end the world! How can we have hope?!
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Think about BSD. Think about the story that’s been told so far. Surely Asagiri isn’t killing everyone right now, surely the world isn’t gonna actually end. I’m not entirely convinced Aya’s plan is gonna work— but please consider that the point of absurdist storytelling is that even when everything seems to be at its worst, even when life seems completely meaningless, there is inherent meaning in still continuing to fight against this. 
BSD has never been a story where the villains win, and I don’t think it’s gonna start being one. I think, as usual, Asagiri wants to scare us, to make us feel hopeless about the situation, only for someone to pull through and completely turn the tides.
Dazai laying down and accepting his death at Chuuya’s hands is not going to be the end of his story, because it goes against everything Asagiri seems to stand for. Dazai wouldn’t just give up in his fight against Fyodor, because he needs to prove he’s right about what he says in this panel:
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"The ones who actually make the world turn are those who scream within the storm of uncertainty and run with flowing blood."
I think this reflects Asagiri's own beliefs and is also the reason why he is not going to let Dazai die like this, because in a way, that would be proving that Fyodor is right. From a storytelling perspective, it’d be saying “everything I’ve communicated up to this point actually means nothing and life is truly hopeless!” 
Dazai has cheated death before, as has basically everyone else in danger right now. I promise you, something is going to happen and they’re all going to survive, because BSD is not trauma porn, for lack of a better term. It’s a story about how a group of people fight against the absurdity of their reality, even when everything seems completely and utterly hopeless. 
There’s a lot of theories circulating about how things could work out, especially Dazai’s “death,” and I’m not here to repeat all of them, but I will say that a lot of them have credence, especially because Asagiri isn’t the type of author to make mistakes, every single detail has a distinct reason. 
So even though I don't know how things are going to work out, I have full faith that they will, including Dazai's current situation. None of these characters are done just yet, they've got too much fight left in them to just give up.
[original twt thread]
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somedaylazysomeday · 2 months
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Shared
You catch Silco's eye at The Last Drop, but he isn't the only one interested in you.
Silco x fem!reader x Sevika
Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.
Word Count: 5,900
Warnings: Clubs, predator/prey vibes, sex, interrupted sex, minor voyeurism, threesomes, anal fingering, double penetration, anal sex, sex toy use.
Masterlist
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You were on a bed, sandwiched between two warm bodies. You were trying to stay afloat in the wash of touches, your body stretching in ways it never had before. With the all-encompassing sensations, you were struggling to remember exactly how you had gotten to this point. 
You hadn’t been drugged or anything. That much needed to be said, especially somewhere like The Last Drop. But no, the fuzziness of the evening had started from the first time you had caught the Shimmer-glowing eye of Silco himself, and you were drunk on everything that had happened since.
Catching Silco’s attention wasn’t something you had set out to do. Just the thought would have made you dizzy with nervousness and intimidation. Those weren’t emotions you had very often. Growing up in the deepest shadows cast by Piltover had left you with the distinct impression that there was no further you could sink. 
And there were always predators in the deep. 
When you had first noticed that mismatched gaze fixed on you, you had put on your best blank expression. Every Undercity resident worth their air knew that Silco wasn’t someone to fuck with. And if he had decided that he didn’t like the look of you, it would be better to leave The Last Drop before he had a chance to kick you out personally. 
Admittedly, he would be more likely to send his second-in-command, Sevika, to get rid of you. That didn’t make it any more pleasant, though she was easily as attractive as he was - just with a different sort of danger. 
In any case, you lost sight of him after that, though you couldn’t help but scan the crowds regularly for a sight of that glowing eye. Every time you didn’t see it, you relaxed a little more, though you couldn’t help recognizing that there was a part of yourself that rode a wave of disappointment. 
Silco was known for being dangerous, but he was also undeniably handsome. That trim body and sharp fashion sense were paired with the keenest wit the Undercity had seen in decades, and he used it to his best advantage. Silco could take apart his enemies with a few well-placed words and a single command to his army of followers. 
And he fucked.
Very few people could claim the distinction of having been with the Eye of Zaun, but everyone seemed to have a story about the time their friend’s older sibling’s cousin had spent a few glorious hours in the chem-baron’s company. 
You would be willing to dismiss those stories as urban legends, a simple desire to make Silco’s power personal by having it exercised over you directly, but the stories all shared a few too many details. Firstly, they almost always started with someone catching Silco’s eye in The Last Drop. 
Second, he was always very much in charge. It wasn’t something you would struggle to believe. If Silco was going to hook up with a stranger, it was only smart to make sure he was in control of the situation, if only to keep from being double-crossed. 
Third, the person was never contacted again after their initial encounter with Silco. If they met him somewhere else, he was cool and indifferent toward them. It was clear that he was interested in short-term pleasure, not long-term commitment. 
There were a few other factors that featured in most stories, but they weren’t entirely consistent and you didn’t count them. For instance, a lot of stories had Sevika involved, but not all of them. Some listed favorite positions or toys that were used, but those reports were so varied as to be pointless. 
Overall, you considered the stories a fascinating look at how folklore supported shadowy figures in the Undercity. It was an interesting way to pass your time, even if it felt a bit voyeuristic. But you were simply interested in a major Undercity player, and found the pursuit of trends in stories a good indicator of that. You were watching solely as an academic exercise, not from any personal interest. 
That was why you had regularly chosen to drink at the Drop for the past few months. The only reason.
Still, despite the stories - nay, Silco’s sexual exploits had reached the level of legend - you hadn’t expected to actually make eye contact with Silco himself. Even then, your tipsy-but-watchful demeanor hadn’t been enough to see him a second time. 
Perhaps it had been a fluke. You weren’t stupid enough to think it had been anyone other than Silco, but you were also willing to concede that he probably observed the goings-on of The Last Drop. It wasn’t impossible that he had been watching the crowd at the same moment that you had been looking around. Still, there was something about the way his gaze had slowly slid away from yours that made you think he had been watching you for a while.
And you had to consider the tingling feeling of being watched, dancing invisible fingertips between your shoulder blades.
But you hadn’t seen Silco again. Not until you had gone to the bar. The bartender had slid you a drink before you had even ordered, directing you to a hallway that led from one side of the room. There, you found a staircase, and the door at the top had been unlocked…
When you opened the door and stepped into the darkened room beyond, Silco had been inside. You couldn’t claim to be completely surprised - who else would have a bedroom in The Last Drop? 
You also weren’t stupid enough to believe that the room was actually where Silco slept. No, the bed was ridiculously big and the shelves against the walls held a variety of lascivious-looking toys. This was clearly where Silco hooked up with people from his club. 
That, at least, ended up being correct. Silco had shared a drink with you, telling you bluntly that he was interested in fucking you that night. He asked if you were interested in that, too. Your immediate and resounding ‘yes’ was embarrassing, but he only gave a small smirk and told you to finish your drink while you discussed preferences and limits. 
When that was settled, you found yourself on that giant mattress, flat on your back under him as he ravaged your mouth. He explored you thoroughly, taking control so casually and naturally that it only seemed to make sense. 
And then he was inside of you, pushing himself deep as you arched your back and cried out for him. Your voice was loud in the room - too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was thick and hot, and you could feel him throbbing. Or maybe you were the one throbbing, your inner muscles working around him as your body tried to decide whether to pull him deeper or push him out of you entirely. 
Just as you were beginning to relax around and under him, a loud bang made you jump. You couldn’t see much from under the canopy of Silco’s body, but you managed to spy that the door was now open. More importantly, someone was standing inside. 
“Scoop told me to come find you- Oh.” 
The voice was low and rough, so much so that it took a moment for you to realize that it was female. And there was only one person you could think of who wouldn’t be apologizing profusely by this point: Sevika. 
To your mingled surprise and embarrassment, Sevika stepped around the bed until she could see you more clearly past Silco’s shielding body. Her lips curved into a sardonic smirk as her dark eyes wandered over every bit of you visible in your current position. 
“Nice going, boss,” Sevika congratulated lowly. “If you didn’t wreck that pretty pussy, I was gonna do it myself.”
Your breath caught at that, the muscles of your core fluttering at the unexpected filth. 
Silco rolled his hips, pressing further into you and driving a gasp from your lungs. “Mmm, she liked that. And, as it happens, I’ve already started working on ruining her.”
“Everything I’ve seen so far seems pretty tame,” Sevika said with a scoff. “I think you’re losing your touch. Maybe you should let an expert take over.” 
Silco bared his teeth, holding your hips tight against his to keep himself buried deep as he rolled. When you were on top, still laying with your chest pressed to his, Silco raised his eyebrows at Sevika. “I am the expert here. If you don’t believe me, perhaps you should see for yourself.” 
Sevika grinned, teeth flashing brightly in her smile. Her lightning-quick wink was the last thing you saw before she stepped out of view once more. 
When you would have turned your head to keep her in view, Silco gripped your chin and held it steady to press a kiss to your lips. When he let you pull away, he murmured, “Pay attention. You’ll hurt my pride.” 
The feeling of his chest rubbing against your stiffened nipples made your eagerness surge, but the sharp gasp was pulled from you by a different sensation: fingertips running upward along one side of your entrance, trailing around where Silco’s length had you spread wide around him. You couldn’t help a squirming shiver when that touch traveled up and between your cheeks. 
“Sensitive little thing, isn’t she?” Sevika asked, a warm chuckle rumbling through her voice.
“If you could feel her the way I can, you would not need to ask.” Silco punctuated it with a pulse of his hips that made you gasp and cling to him. 
Normally, this was not your kind of thing. You preferred to be an active partner in your sexual encounters, and the fact that most of the comments being tossed around were pointedly not directed toward you should have made you nervous. Probably would have in any other situation, if you were being honest. 
But you felt exposed like this, knowing someone was watching. Someone who had plainly stated that she was also interested in your body. That, combined with the knowledge of how dangerous both of them were, kept you calm as they spoke around you rather than including you in the conversation. You felt as if you were slowly turning into a pile of flesh and nerves, able to do nothing but limply receive the pleasure you were offered. 
Somehow, it was working for you.
“But you have yet to tell me,” Silco continued, giving another lazy thrust that made you squirm down onto him more firmly. “How does she look?” 
“Needy. Hot. Desperate. Sexy,” Sevika said with a hum. Her attention was still between your legs as she scattered adjectives through the conversation. She played idly with you and - if you were to guess from his low growl - with Silco as well. Her fingers pulled you wider, as if testing how far your folds would spread. “The only way she’ll look better is dripping with cum, too fucked-out to move.”
You were listening intently to her, but a sound in the room made it hard to focus. It was only when they both chuckled that you realized the sound was a whine, coming from between your own parted lips.
“I can think of something else that may be better still,” Silco mused. His voice sounded teasing, but he didn’t continue. The silence felt heavy, weighed down with expectation and more than a hint of anticipation. 
Silco’s hand smoothed over your temple, making you twitch with surprise. You glanced up to find him watching you. “What do you think, pet? Shall we invite Sevika to join us?” 
Your mouth went dry. You didn’t want to risk trying and failing to speak, so you settled for a fervent nod. Silco’s lips curled as he glanced behind you. There was a knowing light glowing in his mismatched eyes, but they were aimed at Sevika, not you. 
“Where do you want me?” Even Sevika’s low voice and brusque tone couldn’t disguise her interest. There was a stab of satisfaction in your gut - you may have been needy, but she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to seem. 
"Hmm…" Silco drawled, tracing circles on your skin that made you shiver. "If we truly want to ruin her, there would seem to be an obvious choice." 
His touch lifted your chin once more, pulling your touch-drunk gaze toward his. With that orange eye burning deep into your mind and soul, Silco asked, "Shall Sevika and I share you? Take you at the same time?" 
You nodded again, but Silco stared harder. "And has your lovely rear ever taken anything before?" 
Feeling inexplicably disappointed in yourself and your past sexual partners, you slowly shook your head. 
"And would you like to try?" 
Your eyes snapped back to Silco's face, core throbbing. "Yes, I would." 
Silco's lips curled into a pleased and slightly predatory smile. 
Behind you, Sevika barked a laugh. "She can still speak." The chill of metal fingers against the side of your face made your eyes flutter closed. "We'll fix that." 
"Get harnessed," Silco ordered, and Sevika's artificial touch disappeared from you. "Use the smallest toy. I want her ruined, not destroyed." 
Even as your body gave a throb, clearly of the opinion that it wouldn't mind either way, Sevika said, "I’ll get ready. You keep doing what you were doing."
Silco took her at her word. He started slow, guiding your hips up and down on his length. When you had found the right combination of movements on your part and the right amount of Silco thrusting into you from below, your pace naturally built back to where it had been before. 
The sound of your panting breaths filled the room, pairing chaotically with the sounds of sex. You had almost forgotten about Sevika entirely in the sprint toward your impending orgasm. But Silco stopped you with a steady press of fingers against your hips, his attention moving to something behind you. When he gave an approving smile, you glanced back as well. 
Sevika was standing behind you, baring more skin than you could remember seeing her display. Her muscular arms were on full show, leading up to broad, strong shoulders. She was wearing a black breastband, but it could hardly contain the rounded swells of her breasts and your mouth watered at the idea of seeing them without any cover at all. Her abdomen was taut, a hint of muscle definition casting shadows on the flat expanse of her stomach. There was a suggestion of a rounded lower belly that made you itch to touch Sevika’s dusky skin, but that bit of softness was covered by a pair of black, form-fitting boxers. 
When your eyes finally fell between Sevika’s legs, you could see that the boxers doubled as a harness. The toy held in place by the boxers was also black, and you struggled to pick out its edges against the darkness of the background. Sevika helped you - perhaps inadvertently - as she worked the short shaft, coating it with shining lube. 
You watched her fist the toy, laying a thick coat of slippery gel over the surface. Your mouth was dry, but you did your best to pretend that you weren’t utterly entranced by the sight. 
Silco gave a rumbling laugh, and it buzzed pleasantly through you. “Like what you see, pet? Do you think you can take her?” 
Sevika smirked at you, hand spreading open between the toy and the boxers so you could see it more clearly. It was… smaller than expected. 
“That’s it?” you asked, cringing at yourself a moment later. 
Sevika laughed out loud. “For your first time? It’s plenty, trust me. Anything bigger and we really would destroy you.” 
You smiled back, but Silco was already moving on. “Sevika is going to prepare you. I want your eyes on me.” 
When you turned back to face the man beneath you, Silco nodded slowly. “One moment.” 
Silco’s hands were firm around your hips. He used the leverage of them to spear himself as far into you as he could get, pressing deep and deeper until there wasn’t a fraction of space between your pelvis and his. Your mouth had fallen open somewhere along the line as you dealt with the flood of sensations, but he wasn’t done. 
His palms slid up either side of your spine, pulling you forward until you were lying flat against him again, your breasts crushed to his chest and his length shifting oddly inside of you. You weren’t sure what look you were wearing when you stared down at him from inches away, but the pupil of Silco’s green eye was blown wide and you thought you would drown in the darkness of it. 
Sevika’s touch made you jump just a bit, but it was enough to pull you free of the trap in Silco’s gaze. She must have been touching you with her metal arm, since her hand was cool and firm against you. She found the place where your spine met your ass, the spot where the sway of your spine rose past your tailbone and into the swell of your hips. 
When her hand was on that anchoring spot, Sevika pressed down. It wasn’t painful, even with the unyielding metal of her replacement arm. However, it did lock you in place against Silco, holding you steady even when you tried to squirm at the feeling of him inside of you. 
The feeling of warm, slippery fingers came a moment later - hardly a surprise, even as a gasp fought to escape you. That touch traveled closer and closer to the center of your ass, working its way toward that secret place hidden between your lower cheeks. 
She quickly found your rear entrance and pressed a finger against it. You made an inhuman sound at the firm touch even as you fought to wiggle your hips closer. When her hand on you and Silco’s anchoring grip made that impossible, you settled for arching your back to give her better access. 
Sevika laughed, and the sound warmed your face. “Responsive. I like her already.” 
“Just wait,” Silco told her lazily. “She’s the best I’ve had in some time. Not overly chatty, either.” 
“Just the way you like ‘em,” Sevika remarked. Her fingers playing against the small of your back made you shudder - or perhaps that was the way her other hand was poised and ready to breach you. When Sevika spoke again, her voice was closer to you, as if she had leaned in. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some sounds outta you either way.” 
Somehow, you managed a halfway sexy laugh. "Promises, promises." 
A firm slap to your ass took your breath away. It was a good spank, but it also forced you further into Silco's cock and ground your clit against his pelvis. 
"Sevika," Silco's voice lashed lowly through the room. "Enough teasing." 
As if to prove his own point, Silco used his grip on your hips to pull you up off of him and slam you back down. The suddenness of it made it all the more intense, and you started riding him without any further prompting.
"We'll start you off slowly," Silco said, offering a nod past you. 
A cool drop of liquid landed just above the crack of your ass, sliding slowly downward. The first drop was followed by another and another, until the slippery gel had started working its way down to your heated core. 
Searching fingers slipped between your cheeks and you tensed reflexively. Sevika's voice was low and close as she said, "Relax."
That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not with her touching what she was getting ready to, but you made an effort anyway. The tension drained slowly from your muscles, and you were so focused that you hadn't noticed the way Silco had stopped moving again.
His hands traveled upward to splay across your back once more, holding you steady as one of Sevika's fingers found your rear entrance and began to press against it. 
Your vision seemed to dim. Not from the sensation itself - though that was certainly a source of interest - but because you were concentrating so hard on the way it felt that you weren’t fully using your eyes anymore. Beyond a vague recognition that Silco was watching you closely, all of your focus was on something you couldn’t see. 
With the lube that was coating you, Sevika’s finger provided almost no friction. If not for the press of her knuckles against the softness of your cheeks, you would hardly know what she was doing. Her finger was equally slick (you suspected it had been coated with a fresh sheen of lubrication), but far more noticeable with the way it pressed against you. 
Your entrance braced against the intrusion, fighting to keep it out. As the pressure increased against you, you drew tighter and tighter. Silco made a surprised noise at the way your inner muscles squeezed around him. It was quiet, but just enough to distract you. You relaxed as you glanced at Silco, and that was all it took for Sevika’s finger to breach you. 
Naturally, you tensed. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Not uncomfortable, but different in a way that stole your focus. That ring of muscle seemed to stretch impossibly wide around the invader, and that feeling only grew as more and more of her finger sank into you. 
“You’re a fool not to take her ass yourself,” Sevika informed Silco. “She’s gonna be perfect.”
“Perhaps I consider the privilege a reward for your excellent work,” Silco countered. “Besides, she is strangling my cock now. I think this will prove pleasurable for both of us. And even more so for our lovely guest.” 
Sevika hummed in agreement, the fingers of her free hand dancing over the small of your back. “If she can walk after this, we haven’t done enough.” 
With a twisting motion, Sevika curled her finger all the way into you, stopping only when her knuckles were pressing against the cheeks of your ass. The noise you made was short and sharp, an audible expression of your pleasure. 
“Are her eyes crossing yet?” Sevika asked. 
Silco caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, carefully turning your face from side to side. “I do not believe so, but we have plenty of time. Sevika will keep her finger in you, pet, while we resume our activities. I want you used to taking something in two places at once before we start in earnest.” 
It wasn’t a question - no part of it had been, but you nodded anyway. Silco grabbed your hips again, guiding you in a new rhythm. He stayed deep inside of you, his tip never quite leaving your core even as he thrust. You picked up the pattern and started to follow it eagerly. There was a different dimension to the pleasure with something in your ass. 
Sevika followed your movements with her hand, keeping her finger buried in you. It spurred you on, adding spice to every thrust as you adjusted to being stretched in two places. 
A warmth at your back warned that Sevika was leaning in again. “Let’s take him apart.”
Your movements stuttered when her finger started to move inside of you, but she didn’t start to fuck you with it. Instead, she curled the digit, timing each curl perfectly to catch Silco’s tip at every thrust.
Silco’s brows furrowed, a harsh curse leaving him. He picked up speed when yours faltered, holding the rhythm even when you were completely distracted by the feeling of Sevika pressing against the thin wall that separated her from Silco. 
At last - and long after your brain had melted entirely - Silco seemed to have had enough. With his chipped teeth bared, he hissed, “Sevika. Take her.” 
The abrupt feeling of Sevika’s finger sliding from you made you gasp. She and Silco both chuckled, though Silco’s voice sounded a little strained. 
“Ready?” Sevika asked, ducking forward so you could see her without straining your neck. Her eyes seemed even darker, excitement sharpening her features. You could only nod in silent agreement. 
Her hands pressed you forward against Silco’s chest once more. You felt them travel down slowly, teasing where you and the chem baron were joined. Her touch dipped briefly lower and Silco cursed again. “Focus, Sevika.” 
As if enticing her to do exactly that, Silco grabbed as much of your ass as he could possibly hold, spreading your cheeks wide as your face went hot. Sevika’s hastily stifled groan eased your embarrassment, but your breathing had picked up and you were fighting not to push back toward her. 
A metal hand against the base of your spine drew your attention from your own eagerness for a moment. “Keep relaxed for me,” Sevika urged. 
It was an impossible thing to ask, but you did your best as she placed the tip of her toy against your ass. You felt your eyes widen as she started to push into you. 
You had seen the toy. It was small, almost laughably so. But now, it felt immense against your rear entrance. As it started to spear into you, it seemed to stretch you impossibly wide. The intrusion burned slightly, even with the generous amounts of lube that coated both you and the toy, and you would have shifted away from it if Silco weren’t holding you so tightly. 
Your mouth opened, ready to call things off and walk away, but there was a slight popping sensation that made you jolt. “Head’s in.” 
Sevika’s explanation answered your unasked question, but you couldn’t acknowledge her verbally. The steady slide of the toy into you was smooth and inevitable, your body letting it in with minimal struggle. 
The firm press of her boxer-clad hips against your ass made you jump again, but Sevika’s hands smoothed down your sides. “Doin’ good for me, pretty girl. We’re gonna stay like this for a minute.” 
You nodded, agreeing to yet another thing that hadn’t truly been a question. Slowly, Silco urged you to sit upright on him. You winced at the feeling of being stretched in two places, but it wasn’t painful. Silco wasn’t a small man and it was always odd to move this way with someone inside of you. Sevika’s toy was small, but it was odd and different enough to make you double-check every sensation to see whether it was good or bad. 
Sevika started things, gently massaging your breasts from behind. Her touch was gentle but insistent, bringing your body back to eagerness. Silco joined in soon afterward, focusing his attention between your legs. His nimble fingers teased your folds around where he was speared and further back, but most of his attention was fixed on your clit. 
Your lips parted as your breathing picked up. Silco and Sevika’s motions synced up, and Sevika’s fingers rolled your nipple just as Silco gave your clit a firm rub. You moaned aloud, head tipping forward in time to see a smirk spread over Silco’s face. 
“It sounds as if our pet is ready to be fucked,” he remarked conversationally to Sevika. “Shall we?” 
“Hmm…” Sevika hedged, rolling her hips against your ass as she thought. The motion knocked you off-balance, pushing you forward along Silco’s cock and spearing you back onto both of them when you corrected your position. You let out a plaintive sound. “How can I resist when she sounds like that?”
“Are you ready?” Silco asked, grabbing your chin once more. 
That grip kept you from nodding. With your three functional brain cells, you managed, “Yes. Please.”
“Please,” Sevika repeated, amused. “You don’t have to beg. Yet.” 
And then they started to move. The first few thrusts were disjoined, leaving you tossed back and forth between them like a toy boat in a storm. But they found a devastating rhythm soon enough. Silco pumped in and out of you, using his length to best advantage. Sevika had less of a shaft to work with, but she focused her energy on giving a little swivel of her hips with every stroke. The combination was lethal. 
It seemed that you had just started when your body tightened. Tension was screaming through every muscle, warning that you were only moments away from utterly imploding. 
“I- I’m–” you stammered, someone taking the words from your lips before you could get any further than a single word into your warning. 
“We know,” Silco said, smugness written across his face. 
“Surprised you made it this long,” Sevika agreed. 
You decided that the best revenge would be to come. Your body wasn’t waiting for permission from your brain, but the timing was great - no sooner had you made your decision than every muscle in your body locked down. 
Colors burst behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm you’d ever had roared through you. You had always imagined going through a hex-gate would be like that: an all-encompassing experience that robbed you of every sense until you were through. Of course, if the hex-gates felt anywhere near as amazing as it did to come on Silco and Sevika’s cocks, you would understand the exorbitant prices for passage. 
If not for Silco’s hands on your hips and Sevika’s arms around your torso, you would have stopped moving entirely, other than to collapse forward. Somehow, they kept you upright, even when they edged you toward overstimulation. 
Silco let out a low, wordless growl as he fucked up into you hard for a thrust, then two. When he was buried as far into you as he could possibly get, he came. The condom he wore kept you from feeling its heat, but his staccato pounding pushed you into a strong aftershock. 
He was almost pretty like that, you reflected, watching Silco writhe beneath you. Fierce, of course, and always imposing, but somehow pretty. Maybe it was the way his eyes flashed, or how his face narrowed even more with the intensity of his pleasure. Or maybe it was the way his jaw dropped, a helpless sound of pleasure leaving him even as his brow crinkled with irritation at his own vulnerability. 
Eventually, Silco lay slack on the bed, watching you and Sevika as his cock slowly softened inside of you. You were still pushed forward and back on him, moving slightly with Sevika’s thrusts. It felt inappropriate somehow, having your ass fucked while you were watched by the man you had started the night with. But Silco seemed unbothered, tracing lazy circles against your hips as he held you still to receive Sevika’s thrusts. 
You could come again this way, you decided idly. Anal was a slower build to orgasm than you were used to, but it was certainly more powerful when it got there. 
“Close yet?” Silco asked eventually. It could have sounded impatient or jealous, but his tone was nothing more than curious. 
“Close,” Sevika confirmed. “It’s a smaller hilt than I would have wanted.” 
“Did you choose the one that vibrates?” 
You couldn’t see Sevika’s expression, but there was something close to glee in her voice as she said, “Forgot about that, but yeah.” 
“Allow me,” Silco offered valiantly. He reached to grab something from a nearby table, and then you were too busy writhing to worry about what he was holding. 
Sevika’s toy buzzed violently in your ass, and you were choking on air at the unexpected sensation. You could only squirm with the surprise of it, but when you had regained some control of your muscles, your instincts hijacked your brain. The only thing you could do was lean forward onto hands you had planted against Silco’s chest, pulling away and thrusting yourself back onto Sevika’s toy as quickly as you could manage. 
Between your sudden eagerness and Sevika’s continued thrusting, the toy pulled free of and punched back in far more often than it had up to that point. A small, almost silent part of you recognized that the ache would be fierce the next day, but that concern was overwhelmed by the vast majority of you that insisted this was necessary. You needed to come again. If you didn’t, you would die. 
At last, Sevika gave a sharp, staccato cry and buried her face in your neck. The flexing of her hips buried the toy as far inside of you as it could get. The buzzing brought you to a small but powerful second orgasm. You reveled in every second of it, even as Silco turned off the toy’s vibrations and soreness immediately set in. 
Sevika pulled out of you, and the resulting motion of your hips allowed Silco to slide free as well. You collapsed on the surface of the bed, your fall cushioned by blankets and the arms of the two strangers you’d had sex with.
They started a low conversation above you as you throbbed and basked in the afterglow. Either they were speaking too quietly for you to hear or your brain wasn’t quite capable of processing speech yet. Either way, you were largely left to your own thoughts. 
You hadn’t watched Sevika come. That was the only part of the experience you regretted. Silco was beautiful when he came, and you were willing to bet that Sevika had been the same. Unfortunately, she had been behind you and there were no mirrors that you could see. You felt cheated, almost, robbed of the chance to see a strong, stunning woman brought to her knees with pleasure from your body. 
But you couldn’t truly complain. The rest of the night had been incredible. Silco truly deserved to have so many people talking about his talents in the bedroom. If he had orchestrated the whole scenario - and you strongly suspected that he had - he was both a master manipulator and someone with a keen need for pleasure. 
Yes, if you were only going to get one chance at this, you were satisfied in how things had played out. And you had been with both Silco and Sevika! Two of the most dangerous people in the Undercity had let you share their bed, and they had cared enough about your pleasure to be sure that you came twice. 
Now, you had your own story to share… but you didn’t think you would. This felt like something to keep quiet and close, to treasure for the rest of your life. And, of course, to get off to when you were feeling particularly lonely or needy. 
“Is she wrecked enough for your tastes?” 
Silco’s quiet question was the first thing you had understood in quite some time, and you realized with a start that he was talking about you.
“Mmhmm,” Sevika hummed, sounding wickedly satisfied. “Look at her.” 
Since they were sitting at the right angle to be staring at your sensitive core, you didn’t bother to keep your eyes open. You were tempted to be shy, but sleep was calling louder and louder. They had made a mess of you, after all. They could look at that mess if they liked. 
“I would like to try her mouth next time,” Silco added, almost absently. 
Sevika let out a short laugh. “Works for me. I wanna bury my tongue in that pussy until she’s sobbing.” 
“We’ll have to do this again soon,” Silco agreed. 
You could hardly believe your ears, but even your excitement couldn’t keep you awake. You faded into soft and filthy dreams, the words ‘next time’ echoing in your ears as you went.
---
Author's Note - The reader character does and says a lot less than I'm used to writing, so my apologies for that. Honestly, this was fueled by scraps of a weird dream after I had too much wine one night. My excuse is that it was a very overwhelming dream for an ace-spectrum writer, so I just got it all down on paper as soon as I could!
Thanks for reading!
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blackbleedingrose · 2 months
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part Three
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Emily x reader (platonic), Sera x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Betrayal
Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal
Notes: This is the third installment of LLM. This part will be shorter than part 2 and will finally go over the trial and (Y/N)'s reaction the extermination. I'm going to be honest, I'm dropping my other hazbin mini series. This is only until I can find the time and motivation to write it. I'm really busy with school and work, and lately my obsession with Hazbin has started to die down. I still love the series and fandom, but that's just something that happens to me from time to time when I watch a new series or get into a fandom. It comes and it goes, and I've been reading a lot of hazbin stuff but now it's starting to feel like an obligation I've set for myself and it makes reading less fun and more like a chore. I have no doubt my obsession will come back when the 2nd season comes out. This happens will all the fandoms I am apart of - like right now, I'm obsessing over Avatar the last airbender again after rewatching the series (not the live action). Don't worry, I'll continue this series as I don't want this to end up unfinished. I have the outline pretty much written, but it will take time to finish - so, please, bare with me.
Singing Colors: Adam, Lute, Charlie, Emily, Sera, (Y/N).
Words: 1631
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
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As the time of the trial drew closer, there seemed to be a few hiccups on Heaven's side of things.
The angel who was supposed to be the trial's stenographer got a nasty cold and all the replacements had their own responsibilities to attend to. The only angel available just so happened to be (Y/N) herself.
When one of the court angels asked (Y/N) if she could do it, she didn't hesitate to accept.
Now she had the perfect excuse to watch Charlie's trial without having to sneak in!
Imagine Sera's surprise and horror when she saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk.
"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Where's Angela?" Sera asked. She was a bit panicked, but did her best to hide it. (Y/N) smiled politely at the higher seraphim, clearly oblivious to Sera's rigid demeanor. "She got a pretty bad cold last minute and all of the other replacements were busy today; and since I was the only one who was available - here I am!".
Sera gave her an uneasy smile, "I see. Thank you for your help today, it's much appreciated". This was the last thing she wanted. The resemblance between (Y/N) and the Princess of Hell was very difficult to ignore and could raise questions if it wasn't for the stardust story Heaven fed everyone.
Sera had wanted to keep (Y/N) away from the trial in hopes of avoiding any contact between her and Charlie. She didn't want (Y/N) to accidently discover the truth about her lineage.
Sera loved (Y/N) like a daughter.
When (Y/N) was younger Michael would sometimes have Sera babysit while he attended to his more serious duties.
She practically helped raise her and she refused to let some misguided demon princess and her partner ruin that.
Unfortunately, the court needed a stenographer.
With no one else available, she was left with no other option.
Sera thanked (Y/N) for her hard work and for stepping in.
She gave the girl a gentle forehead kiss before leaving her to prepare for the trial.
It was only for today and once this pointless trial was over everything would go back to the way it was.
And (Y/N) would be none the wiser and away from that misguided influence.
However, things weren't as perfect as Sera had hoped for.
The moment Charlie and Vaggie entered the courtroom and saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk, the two cousins eagerly waved at each other.
Sera's eyes widened in horror. No. This wasn't supposed to happen - it was the worse case scenario.
When did those two meet?!
She sighed in frustration already knowing that (Y/N) must have sought the girl out herself.
Dammit Emily.
(Y/N)'s curiosity was her biggest flaw and was going to end up getting her into serious trouble if not handled properly.
Sera quickly composed herself. No point in losing herself and catching any unnecessary attention.
She still had a trial to run and then she'll have a talk with (Y/N) later.
Now, (Y/N) was nice to just about everyone. She could get along with just about anyone she's ever met. But there was one person, or rather two, she just couldn't stand.
Adam and his little crony Lute.
These two irritated her to no ends with how high and mighty they acted. How either of them managed to stay in Heaven was beyond her.
Her father just told her to bare it, despite him also disliking the two of them - especially that narcissistic douchebag Adam.
(Y/N) did her best to hide her grimace whenever Adam spoke during the trial.
As the trial went on (Y/N) felt a little nervous when Charlie was shut down from making anymore definition references. She could see how nervous her poor cousin was getting.
When Charlie looked over at her, (Y/N) made sure to give her a small smile and mouthed, "You've got this".
This managed to help calm Charlie's nerves enough for her to regain her composure. Charlie got a little more confident when presenting Angel Dust, the hotel's first patron.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes when Adam spoke up again trying to discredit her cousin.
"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?".
Charlie's question stumped more than just Adam. (Y/N) had to take a moment to think - how does someone get into Heaven?
Being Heaven-born (Y/N)'s never had to be on the other end with humans who had to earn their place in paradise. And if someone as crude and vile as Adam can get into Heaven then what did it take for others, especially the damned who didn't deserve Hell - like children, for example.
Adam quickly wrote on a piece of paper before giving it to Vaggie to read aloud.
"'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?' - are you fucking serious?".
"Uh, yeah. Sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?".
(Y/N) raised a brow. That's all it took to get someone into Heaven?
Charlie tried to argue Angel was doing all of those things, to which the court decided to observe Angel through the courtroom's orb. At first, things weren't looking good for Charlie when Angel gave into peer pressure.
(Y/N) bit her lip, silently hoping this would somehow take a turn for the better. She really wanted Charlie to show her hotel worked and for Adam to eat his words.
Luckily, things did start looking up when Angel took care of his friend, Nifty, and defended her from that awful moth demon.
"Then why isn't he here, huh?".
(Y/N) paused her typing - why isn't he here?
This started a whole argument at the unfairness of it all. How even those in Hell could be redeemed if only given the chance. (Y/N) and Emily saw the change in Angel and how he did everything on Adam's list.
"A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month".
. . . Wait what?
(Y/N) furrowed her brows in confusion. One month? What was he talking about?
"Gotta say I can't wait to-"
"Adam".
(Y/N) looked up at Sera, did she know what he was talking about? What the hell was going on?!
"Come down and exterminate you".
. . . WHAT?!
(Y/N) and Emily looked horrified at the shocking news.
"Wait!".
"Shit!".
(Y/N) and Emily fly over to Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lute looking sadly at the orb showing the residents in Hell being mercilessly killed by the exorcists.
"What are you saying?"
"Let me get this straight".
"You go down there and kill those poor souls?".
"You didn't know?".
Charlie was shocked to hear that not all of Heaven knew about the exterminations. She was relieved to hear that her cousin didn't know and that she seemed to be against it.
"Whoops!".
"Guess the cat's outta the bag!".
"What's the big deal?".
(Y/N) and Emily turned and looked up at Sera.
"Sera tell us that you didn't know".
"I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder".
"No".
"You have to listen, it was such a hard decision".
Sera flew down from her seat.
"I wanted to save you".
She took (Y/N) and Emily's hand in her own.
"The anguish it takes to, do what was required".
The hellfire reflecting in Sera's eyes unnerved (Y/N) and Emily - almost like she enjoyed the suffering and senseless murder of the sinners in Hell.
The two glared at Sera.
"To think that we admired you".
They tore their hands from hers and flew back away from her.
"Well, we don't need your condescension! We're not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretention? Were we too naive to expect you, to head the morals you're purveying?".
The two flew back down in front of the orb.
"That's what the fuck I've been saying!".
Charlie walked over to the two angel's grabbing their hands.
(Y/N), Charlie, and Emily moved up and stood on top of the orb showing the exorcists killing sinners.
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
"Emily! (Y/N)!".
"If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky!".
The three jumped down and stood before Sera.
"The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say! When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!".
Things only continued getting worse with Charlie finding out Vaggie was an angel and an ex-exorcist, Sera's final ruling of no evidence of sinners being able to be redeemed, and Adam's threat of coming to their hotel first.
"Charlie, it will be okay! I'll find a way to help you - I promise!" (Y/N) called out before Charlie and Vaggie were forced to back to Hell.
After Sera had finished talking to Emily, she went after (Y/N) who had already left the courtroom.
"(Y/N)! Wait, please!" Sera begged grabbing (Y/N) by her wrist. "Please, let me explain!".
(Y/N) turned her head and glared at Sera with such intensity it sent shivers down the High Seraphim's spine. She's never seen (Y/N) look at her like that before.
It broke her heart to see the girl she's helped raise and thought of as a surrogate daughter look at her with such anger and disgust.
"Explain what, Sera?! That you've been here playing God and allowing the murder of sinners! They're already in Hell, what more could you possibly want?! They don't deserve this!" (Y/N) yanked her wrist from Sera's hold and flew away.
She couldn't believe this had been going on and she never even knew! Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her poor cousin. She knew needed to do something to help Charlie.
But first, she needed to see whether or not her father and the other archangels knew about this all along.
Taglist:
@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc
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Where I’m From
Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]
3.6k | Jake Seresin could handle lots of things. He was the only naval aviator of his time to have a confirmed kill - two, actually. He kept forgetting about that second one. It was newly under his belt, and, considering the circumstances surrounding it, he hadn’t felt too inclined to brag about it. Still, the point remained. Jake could carry the weight of taking a life, of saving a life, and of putting his life in harms way. 
What he could not handle was the weeping girl in front of him, brushing away tears on their first date.
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Genre: Fluff, slight angst
CW: swearing, kissing, mentions of past relationships (neglect)
Author’s Note: Is Jake slightly ooc? Yes. I just wholeheartedly believe this man would be a gentleman on a date. Also, soft!Jake >>>>>>> || cross-posted on Ao3
Part Two
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“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.
Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.
So, when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.
And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”
Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are yours, darlin’.”
The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”
“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.
The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.
“I’m sorry-”
“You need to stop apologizing.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”
An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”
There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.
Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.
You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”
“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.
You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.
“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.
“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”
Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.
Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.
“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”
Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.
“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”
“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”
“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”
Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”
“Oh, a cowboy?”
“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”
“So, I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.
“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”
Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.
He pulled into a spot, and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.
“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.
“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.
“Sersin. Party of two,” he tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.
Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.
“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”
You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”
Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”
“So is mine.”
“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”
Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”
You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”
“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”
“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they call you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”
He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.
“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“You remember my last name?”
“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”
He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”
“Yup.”
“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”
“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”
“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”
“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”
Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit, and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down, but the power went out.
“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”
“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”
He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”
“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”
“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”
The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works its way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.
“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”
“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”
And so, you swap plates with him taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”
He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.
“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”
You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”
You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.
“I’m sorry.”
“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”
“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”
With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”
There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”
He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.”
“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-” Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.
“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”
Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.
He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.
“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”
More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.
“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.
“What?”
“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”
With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”
“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”
===
Bonus:
Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife, so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.
“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.
“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”
“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”
He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“I was waiting for you to ask that.”
Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long-term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.
“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”
You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”
Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.
“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”
He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”
You thought he’d never ask.
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goldsbitch · 3 months
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I gave so many signs
summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.
song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)
exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters
warning: Present time, the past
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Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.
They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.
I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice
Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.
Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.
It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep
"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."
I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all
She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.
They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.
It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"
Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury
They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.
We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.
"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."
She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.
All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)
Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.
You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.
Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right
It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.
And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress
It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.
So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway
It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.
She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before
Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.
It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.
I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs
The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.
And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
part 2
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uglypastels · 10 months
Text
Not Wholly Evil |IV| pirate!eddie
a/n so sorry for the long wait. Let this be a celebration of the beginning of summer :) and lets hope for many fics to come (i cant make any promises tho) I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Please remember to support by reblogging and leaving comments on what you think of the story <3
Series Masterlist
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word count: 7.5k
"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. religious (Christian) references.
There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.
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Chapter 4: Columba 
A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question. ― Neil Gaiman, Stardust
‘We’re… lost?’ You stared blankly ahead.
‘I’ll admit, lost is a strong word, princess— Misdirected feels more accurate. Sailing off-course.’ 
You stammered for a response to the confession you just heard. ‘How– How could we be off-course?’ The captain’s words had not fully come through to you yet, perhaps by his casual stance and lack of urgency for a solution or panic. He stood there, arms behind his back, studying his map like one of the painting hanging on the Queen’s wall. And yet, according to this man, you were heading into uncharted waters. You have been heading towards them for God knows how long.  
‘It is quite simple. Here–’ he was still analysing the markings on the wall as he spoke, and he must have wanted you to step closer, for he looked at you expectedly. Something around his mouth twitched when he looked your way. The eye contact was piercing both ways with so much said between the two of you, and yet not a single word had been exchanged. With two ringed fingers, he pulled an invisible string that he hoped would have some effect on you. 
It did not. 
All you did was raise a brow in your expectation, ready to see what the captain would do now. Arms crossed, you remained in your place. 
‘Do not make me come over there, princess.’ 
‘Do not make me come over there, Munson.’ The words were bitter but tasted sweet, like honey on your lips. If you had blinked, and as luck would have it, you did not, you would have missed the captain’s reaction; a deep breath in as he hollowed out his cheeks, pushing back any clearer indications of frustrations or signs of weaknesses. The patience ran out of his dark eyes. Then, with a stretch of his neck, he returned to his first problem as if the short interaction between you had never occurred. He sounded entirely unphased as he, despite your distance, went to explain the conundrum. ‘Several days ago, the Hellfire stumbled upon a certain ship,’ he tapped one of his fingers on a small mark south of the map. It then dawned on you that, by surrendering to your stubbornness, he had won the bigger battle. Your curiosity was gaining on you, and from where you stood, you could not put much more meaning to his words, as the islands around it were unfamiliar. He knew this and could tell you were frustrated with yourself, but you were too stubborn to walk up and look at what he was showing you… yet where you stood now was no good either. The captain continued explaining as if you were right by his side, not addressing anything else of the situation. ‘Tonight, we were meant to have only been a week’s travel away from our destination–’ your home. This shocked you, for before, you had no indication of how much longer it would take—a week. What was supposed to have been a week is now an undetermined eternity as the ship sailed on.
The mention of your home hit you at the deepest level, overshadowing any other emotions you felt. Any stubbornness was pushed aside for anger as you crossed the room. 
Nothing was exchanged as you moved past the desk towards the captain. He did not look your way, but the grin on his face was undeniable. You could still feel it when he brought you closer to him with a quick pull, shaking you around practically like a rag-doll. You now stood between him and the map, his shoulder against your back. His breath on your neck. His muscles brushed over you as he moved his arm to point out the locations on the map. The flash of heat coming over you could not have been anything but the anger you felt at yourself for letting this happen.
‘To sum up, we met here, darling,’ he reached to tap the map again at a southern point, bringing himself closer to you with the excuse to reach the chart. His chin practically leaned on your shoulder, and his hot breath became overbearing to all your senses. All you could focus on were the rings that adorned his fingers in front of you—one of the few aspects of him you could always trust to remain constant. You watched him move his hand across. ‘—were meant to arrive here—,’ One straight line towards home with a dark, blotted circle on top of it. It made you wonder how long that ink sat upon the canvas. Had he written it once you came aboard, or had he been planning something much longer? Had your abduction been a plan all along? It was hard to imagine but not impossible. 
‘And now we’re… well, God knows where we are,’ he chuckled with wicked amusement, and you did not see the humour in being lost at sea. You did, however, see the irony of him speaking of God. He, a Satan’s spawn himself. It is ridiculous to think that he had the gumption to speak the Lord’s name so casually, especially with him being who he is. It simply did not sit right with you.
However, none of your concerns seemed to have drawn his attention as Munson went on: ‘I felt something was wrong as we were supposed to have arrived at Escondrijo last night, a rest stop we often sail past,’ he read out the name of this island right at your skin, the S slithering from his tongue onto you in shivers. ‘I thought maybe my calculations were simply off; the wind, after all, had not been the kindest. Of course, it could have been a delay– but alas.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘What we stumbled across was–’ He slammed his fist into the map, making you jump at the extreme action,  ‘Such a useless piece of land no one bothered to give it a name!’ He laughed away his frustrations, which chilled you to the bone. ‘Not even the damned sould that live there.’
Damned. That’s what he was. What all of you were as the ship sailed on.
You tried to take in everything that he had just told you. All the locations he had pointed to. Considering the unknown status of your location, the world must have turned upside down for you to arrive here. The fact the Hellfire had stumbled upon the nameless island must have been dumb chance in itself, and just as quickly as it had made itself shown, it was now becoming nothing more than a memory. 
Still, this island could be anywhere on the map, but it must have been close to the planned destination. The climate would have raised suspicions much earlier if it had been otherwise. And that is precisely what you suggested to the captain, hoping that giving him some kind of positive idea would direct him away from the anger he must be feeling. Not to mention, at this moment, you were both in trouble, in danger, and the only way out of it was to help him… as much as you disliked the idea of doing so. It was the only option. 
‘Yes, exactly. All my calculations had been perfect. That is why this is all so perplexing.’ 
You could name several more reasons why the situation was “perplexing”, including one thing you did not yet understand: 
‘Why did we even leave the harbour? Why not stay and orient yourself?’ There were people there, other sailors; naturally, someone could have helped track the right direction to sail onward to. Someone there might have had more information. Anything. 
And yet, the ship had already set sail into the abyss of the night. You could hear the waves sloshing around you, and when you turned around, the fiery light coming from the island was thinning on the horizon. 
‘You overestimate the usefulness of a drunken man. Or the charitability of a passerby in a midnight alley.’ Munson spoke, ‘Or perhaps, you simply underestimate my willingness to find a solution, for that matter. As if I did not try to ask for help—because, whatever you may think of me, I am not ashamed of seeking out outside recourses—’ There was that clicking sound of his tongue that announced nothing but smugness. Next thing you know, his arms had snaked their way down, wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms within his hold. His lips were at your ear, freezing you like a spell. ‘And here I thought you would know me better by now.’
You wished you did too, but the truth was much more brutal. With every moment you spent in the captain’s presence, he only seemed to be becoming more and more of a mystery to you. None of your million questions regarding the notorious Captain Munson had been answered. 
With a slow intake of breath, you spoke to him as calmly as possible: ‘Get off of me.’ 
‘Mmm,’ he hummed, swaying you back and forth, enhancing the ship's movements, ‘I don’t think I want to, princess.’ In reality, it was a loose grip that held no power, authority, or fear over you. All it did was plague you with his touch, scent, and sound; it was all over. You could feel him everywhere. The heat of his body was radiating onto you, boiling you alive. 
From this position, you could not see his face. Your peripheral vision only gave you a blurry profile of his features without indicating what he was doing. You both stood there for a long moment, looking at the map as if it would reveal some secret message. Something to magically guide you back on the right path. It was quiet around, with nothing else but the waves outside, the fire of the candles in the room flickering, and two pairs of lungs breathing. Two hearts, beating fast. 
His grip loosened, but you did not move. Too scared that any movement would remind him of you. Although, maybe he had not forgotten but simply lost interest, for the captain took a step forward, passing you right by. His eyes were locked in on a spot on the map. 
This silence had given you one thing, and it was the time to think. Maybe not clearly—that was barely ever possible with him around—but long enough to devise a train of thought. With that, one more question struck you. 
 ‘Why tell me all of this?’ Was he confessing this all to you because he was not planning on having you stick around for much longer? Airing out a confession to a soul that he had already sentenced, either way, leaving no trace of his mishappening behind? If that was the case, you had to leave this room quickly. Tell someone about all of this…Because what stopped you from going out there and telling everyone that their captain had failed them? Led them to be stranded at sea. This may be what you need. This may get them on your side. Maybe– 
‘Oh, it is wonderful how your mind works, princess.’ He turned around on his heels, and his hands found your shoulders, dug in like claws, shaking you lightly. Shaking you straight out of your escapist fantasy. ‘Truly, fascinating.’ The two last words burned with a growl. He chuckled a little bit more before redirecting himself towards his desk. The captain did not bother walking around the desk. Instead, he sat down on it and let his legs swing around, knocking several stacks of parchment onto the floor in the process. He did not even look down at the mess he caused. Instead, he slightly bent back to look down. His eyes shot down, an eyebrow was raised, and then he looked back at you. 
‘Nosy, were we, darling?’ There was a metal twinkle that piqued your interest, and you noticed the silver key hanging around his neck. He pulled it off and unlocked the drawer you had been toying with before his arrival. 
Had it surprised you that he pulled out a bottle of rum? 
Slightly. 
But you watched the captain uncork the bottle and take a large sip as he sat on the armrest of his throne. He was sloppy, and the liquid spilt down his chin. He was wiping it off as he extended his other arm towards you, inviting you for a drink. When you did not respond, the captain shrugged, mumbled something about stubbornness, and drank until barely anything was left. He put the bottle on the disorganised desk and roughly wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 
 He let out a satisfied sigh. ‘Mmm. Now, where was I,’ he tapped his fingers on his thigh, trying to remember the last seconds. Once he did so, he laughed.
‘It is so easy to think that one tiny mistake could cause a man’s respect, but these men—together with me, may I add—have been through a lot. We are a family, sweetheart, and family isn’t so easy to get rid of. No matter how hard or often you try.’ His dark eyes pierced through yours. ‘So, I hope you do not set your hopes on a mutiny too high because that just won’t happen. If my men wanted to get rid of me, they would have done so long ago. 
‘I’ve made much bigger mistakes that could have cost me my head, yet…’ he knocked his knuckles on the side of his skull, giving you an almost apologetic expression, indicating that he was still present and accounted for. ‘I’m sure they’re all aware of our little problem by now. Hell, it’s their fault, but I don’t want to vex them with this. They have enough work on their plates.’ 
‘So?’ You did not see the point of this anymore, not believing that he had no one in his crew that could help him right now. That would have been more helpful than you.
‘So,’ he mocked your inquisitive tone. ‘Out of everyone on board, you’re probably the last that needs a good night sleep–or at least can miss one.’ 
You wanted to argue with him, call him a monster for depriving you of simple decency such as a night’s rest, but then it dawned on you that he might have actually been right. While the floor gave you no comfort, you had, in a way, the luxury of sleeping as long as, and whenever, you pleased. Meanwhile, the crew got barely any sleep and then had to work most of the day to keep the ship afloat. That was a rationalisation of yet another lost battle, at least. 
‘Even if I did want to help you,’ you sighed in defeat, ‘how could I?’ You didn’t know how to steer a ship, let alone guide one back onto a correct route in the middle of the deep waters at night. Munson looked at you, still very much amused, and clearly held back his tongue with a comment on your words. Instead, he answered your question genuinely. Possibly doing so for the first time.
‘It is the middle of the night; the sky is clear,’ he spoke as if this all led to the most obvious of conclusions, ‘why not let the stars guide you?’ 
‘What makes you think I know how to?’ Did he think you had any experience in this field? ‘Well, I doubt you keep looking up there just because the stars shine oh-so charmingly.’ 
‘You do not think the night sky to be beautiful?’ You asked curiously. It would explain so much about the captain if he could not appreciate the simple beauty of such things. But, the man threw you in for a loop.
‘I do, but I also know it has many more functions than decor. You must know it too.’
‘I do.’ That was basic enough knowledge that you had picked up on as a young child, but was that it? Just because you were fascinated by the heavens did not mean you had any expert knowledge on the subject. Besides, where would you have even been able to acquire it? ‘And this makes you think I can steer us back on the right path?’
‘Call it intuition.’
‘And on the principles of your intuition,  you dare to put your fate in the hands of a…prisoner?’ You had never heard of such a tale for a captain to let his prisoner take the lead on the ship. Giving him their trust.
‘I think we are past such formalities, are we not?’ Were you? He must have read the doubt on your face, for he took the task of explaining: ‘You are no longer locked away; you have the freedom to go anywhere on this ship. I brought you a delicious meal—which I would still like to have received some gratitude for, but that is beside the point—and now I am asking you for your help. Some would say you are going up the ranks quite swiftly, princess.’
‘Funny, I do not recall you asking for my help at all? Just being locked away in a room for hours and given no choice but to do as you say.’
‘The pirate life!’ Munson spread his arms wide, slipping down into the seat of his thrown. You thought it would be futile to argue with him, seeing what humour he was in. The way he had just devoured the bottle of rum would not be helping your case.
‘Why me then? Why not do it yourself since you seem to know as much as me about the stars?’ You thought it would be easier and faster if he had done the work independently. It would already cost less time not to go through this discussion.
Like a thunderbolt, anger struck his face. ‘Because, I say so,’ he snarled before returning to his previous self, ‘and I thought you might like having something to occupy yourself with. Pushing around crates must become boring after sometime, does it not?’ 
‘How do you–’ He had seen what you had done with the lower deck. But… when would he have had the chance? You could not recall many instances, if any, of the captain coming down to see you after he freed you from your cell.
He pushed himself up from the throne and walked back over to you. Then, he began walking in circles around you, and you tried to keep up with him, but it quickly strained your neck. ‘Yes, I know all about your organizing down there. And about your inquiring nature.’ He nodded over to the desk you had tried to pry open. Something must have given it away. He clicked his tongue.  ‘Remember whose ship you’re on, darling. There is nothing that goes by around here without me knowing about it. If you do something, it’s because I let you do it.’
‘I hardly believe that.’
 ‘Well, believe this then: on any other ship, you could have gotten into a lot of trouble if someone caught you going through another man’s things—’
  ‘Don’t try and tell me all of that is yours. I know you stole it off other ships.’ You rolled your eyes. Munson played a victim, placing a hand over his chest, pausing in front of you with his big eyes, imitating hurt. 
‘Some of it very well may be. This,’ he flicked the collar of the shirt you were wearing, ‘for sure is.’ His fingers grazed at your skin, brushing over your throat hastily. ‘I could have you hung, you know. Or at least take off a few fingers.’
‘I doubt it considering you need me in one piece if you want my father’s money.’ 
‘Did you know there are hundreds of other man out there who’d pay double for a pretty face like yours?’ He waited for a crack to reveal the fear on your face and didn’t say anything until it showed. ‘Not to mention, I would not be risking arrest with them. Luckily, I am a man of my word. So, to your daddy you shall return.’ He reached for your shirt collar again, flattening it out carefully with a smile that could make you forget any of the horrific things he had just spoken of. ‘As I was saying, darling… I have a feeling you’d rather not end up like the other dirty thieves, so be a doll and prove to me that there was a use in letting you out of your cell after all.’ 
There it was. The reason for all of this. This was your punishment. Or some kind of redemption. He caught you going through his belonging, and now you had to pay for it— and pay with performing something you already felt to be impossible. 
 With him standing in front of you, hand still on your shoulder, you looked him directly in the eye. ‘How long do I have?’ 
The captain puckered his lips in thought and looked out the window. ‘As long as you can make use of the stars. Then I would really like to get back on course.’
Until sunrise, however long that could be.  You had a few hours to find your current location and a path back to where you were headed. 
‘What if I can’t do it?’ you pushed the question out of your tightening throat, scared of what the answer might be. 
‘That is no mindset for you, princess.’ He brushed some hair out of your face. ‘You’re too smart for that. Now go on; no need to waste even more time.’ And with that, he set you on your way. Or, more accurately, he let go of you and made his way to the bed on the opposite side of the room. In the meantime, you felt like your feet were nailed to the ground, unsure of what to do next, scared of taking the wrong steps. All you could do was look around as if the answers were hidden in the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you could feel your heart getting stuck in your throat, panic setting in. To give up had never been a feasible option for you before, and it still pained you to think of doing it, but the words were ready to leave your mouth. You win. Your lips parted, and your vocal cords croaked when you noticed something. 
The letters were partly worn from contact but still reflected in the light. Either way, it wasn’t so much the letters that spoke to you, as you could not clearly read it from a distance, but the symbol above it. A golden star set on top of a leather book spine, winking at you in the fire.
Now with much more confidence, you took the needed strides towards the bookcase. It was pitch black leather, wrapped in a string to keep the delicate pages together. The book was situated on a lower shelf, pressed between other volumes, making it hard to remove. 
‘Need help with that, princess?’ Munson sounded from behind you.
Instead of responding, you pulled at the book again, and this time, it fell out from the shelf with a stir as a pile of books near it moved about. Still giving no reaction to the words spoken, you got up and moved to the desk, unwrapping the tie from around the covers and letting it fall open in front of you. The pages were nearly pristine, the ink dark, as if it had never seen the light of day. This ink depicted excellent illustrations of creatures and men. 
Despite being ignored by you, for once, the captain kept his distance and let you work while you searched for the correct pages. You could tell from notes that this was definitely the book you needed, as it told you everything you had to know, but the writing was small and not always legible. The pages were thin but rough to the touch. The writing was small, fitting as much information as the writer could cram between the covers. Most of it felt familiar, bringing you back to tales you had heard from your father or the governess. But navigating oneself with the stars' help required much knowledge and skill you still needed to possess. 
You tried to focus on it as much as you could, and yet, despite the silence and the space between you, you couldn’t stop glancing his way. The captain lay on the bed, his head toward the door, facing you. Each time your eyes met, you pulled yourself away from it, returning to the words and drawings on the pages, but you could constantly feel his gaze on you. It was unnerving. It was as if he was standing right there in front of you.
‘I promise you, I will be more effective if I do not have to endure your constant breathing down my neck.’ Maybe it was your surprisingly peaceful few hours in solitude on board, the tankard of ale streaming through your blood, or even the overall situation placing the captain in a new light, but you felt bold. ‘So, will you please stop staring.’ You looked up, not even surprised to see him still looking directly at you.
‘What would you rather have me do, darling?’ he asked, almost affectionately… though that could not possibly be what it was.
‘For you to leave, and do not call me darling,’ you dared to express. 
‘You want me to leave my own quarters?’ He raised a brow in humour. 
‘Yes, that is exactly what I want,’ you explained. 
‘Ah, well,’ he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes, ‘if it is exactly what the lady wants, that leaves me with very few options, doesn’t it?’ You watched him walk towards the door, perplexed at the ease with which he moved, …just to swerve around and lean against the door. ‘Oh, no, I suppose it doesn’t.’ He shrugged. 
You did your best not to pay attention to whatever the captain was doing—which, in that instance, seemed to be humming some song. You did not recognise it, nor did you have a need to learn it. Especially since, at this moment, any sound from him boomed in your ears like a canon. 
‘Must you be doing that? I am trying to concentrate for your own ship’s sake, if you do not recall.’ 
‘Apologies.’ He stopped, but the energy transferred into his legs, which shook his whole body with them, only softening the sound slightly, but the creaking of the wooden panels underneath him wasn’t much better. You couldn’t do this any longer. 
The only thing on your mind was frustration as you slammed the book shut, picked it up and walked towards the door. The captain took one smooth step to the side and, when you pulled at the door handle, had expected it to remain in its bolts, but it opened so quickly that your slight pull was enough to throw you sideways. The night darkness welcomed you together with the cold sea air and confusion.
‘How long has this been open?’ You did not want to look at him and did not need to. You could tell what kind of smile he wore and how he must have enjoyed this moment as he answered. 
‘Ever since I came back, princess.’ You could have left any time. You just took a deep breath and counted to three before turning his way and calmly saying something you had thought ever since your eyes fell upon him.
Well, at least better late than never. You stepped out onto the quarter deck without closing the door behind you. A man was half-asleep at the wheel, his entire body leaning on it. Luckily, someone had blocked it, avoiding the ship sailing in circles. 
Besides the sleeping helmsman, no one else seemed to be above deck, most likely in their beds as deep night had arrived. There were no lights besides the fire lit in the captain’s office, so you let the darkness take you as you walked down the stairs…. But midway, as the light from the captain’s cabin remained in the distance, you realised your mistake. 
‘For Heaven’s sake,’ you muttered under your breath and turned back around, climbing the steps, ignoring the burning hatred you felt in your body. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, you trotted your way back in. While your steps felt heavy, protesting your return into the room mentally, it was strange to walk so freely without all the layers your dress consisted of. With only a shirt over your upper body, you could feel each punch of the air on you, but in a strange sense, you welcomed it. 
But stepping back inside, you felt your body heat up again, mainly from embarrassment rather than the soft fire lighting up the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you were passing the threshold again. You had not expected, nor wanted, to have returned so soon. If luck was ever in your favour, you would never see the interior in your life again, but, unfortunately, there was no escaping from this room for you, as you seemed to be coming back no matter what.
‘Back so soon, princess?’ In the short time of your absence, Munson had returned to the bed and tilted his head at your entrance, grinning, ‘You must have missed me more than I thought.’ 
You scoffed, ‘for your information,’ and grabbed a lantern on a dressing table closest to the door… which was still too many steps inside for your liking, ‘I am simply gathering some light. It is too dark outside, I cannot read what's on the pages.’
‘Ah. Is that all then?’ he asked, returning his head onto his pillow, closing his eyes as if he was ready for sleep, ignoring his clothes and the stoic position in which he lay. But as you moved around the cabin, he had opened one eye to look your way. ‘I’d suggest you take a jacket, princess. It can be quite cold out there.’
‘You could have made a fine gentleman, Munson.’ You held your head high, not looking at him. ‘It is a shame you let yourself deteriorate at sea like your ship.’ 
‘That actually almost hurt me, darling. I’m impressed.’ He chuckled, eyes already closed again. With nothing else to say, you passed the large wardrobe and walked straight out of the room. Once again, you walked down the stairs, celebrated when your feet touched the last step and walked onto the ship's centre. Along with the crashing of the waves, you could hear each of your footsteps. 
Something must have been in your favour, for the sky was without a cloud and in the darkness of the ship, you could see millions of stars twinkling. The moon was still but a sliver. It brought a similar-looking smile to your face. 
You searched for the page you had deemed the most useful beginning and spread the book in your arm. Now, with the book open in your arm, with the flames lighting the pages from above, you gazed up at the stars. After a short moment, this position would not be possible to uphold. The two objects you held were too strong to keep up in the air. Remaining as calm as possible, ultimately pressing the captain out of your mind, you reread the pages. 
To navigate through the stars, one must first find Polaris—the brightest star in the sky, right at the end of the Ursa Minor. The sky was clear, handing you the constellations on an onyx platter. The silver balls of fire were peppered around like crystals, gleaming and shimmering, but without a doubt, there was one that shined just a little bit brighter, calling to you with the direction of True North.
You had heard men talk of these methods at home and aboard the Red Tail, and they had always sounded relatively simple. If anything, you considered their constant complaints simply a part of manhood. Now that you were straining out your neck to look around at all the corners of the galaxy, you still did not think it to be much more complicated and so knew that the captain could not have felt any other way. 
You had figured out his plan to punish you, and now the rationale behind this specific task came to you. It would not have been unexpected if he tasked you with this hassling job simply because he was too much of a sloth to do so himself. There was still a dim light in the office quarters, so you assumed he had not gone to sleep yet… or perhaps fallen asleep with all the candles still flickering. For a moment, your mind wandered to where the candles tipped over, caught some of the wood around, and never stopped burning.
Just for a moment, until your lantern started to feel hot against you as you held it too close. It felt so heavy.  You had to set it on the ground, then sat down beside it with the book in your lap. 
Some time passed, but who knew how long precisely you had been sitting out there. Your knees had started to hurt, as well as your spine, but giving up was not an option. The ship swayed back and forth against the waves, blurring your view, only making things more complicated. The wind kept lashing out, but you persisted, trying to calculate the ship's position, flipping back through the book to the pages on which a map had been etched out. You would do this if it was the last thing you did. 
‘I will be done by sunrise, ’ you shouted as you heard footsteps behind you. The jingle of chains could have only been one person. You wiped some hair away that the wind blew in your face as you felt the captain’s presence behind you—like a deathly spectre hovering over you. ‘I– I promise.’ You said so more to yourself. Because while you had to prove yourself to him to live, you needed to prove to yourself that you could do this. You would persist and manage to find a way back home. 
The captain said nothing; he did not linger around, watching you. The only thing he did, was throw down a large coat onto the ground, which fell onto the floorboards next to you with a thud. You blinked slowly, then turned around to him, but he was already returning to the cabin. 
‘It will all be pointless if you freeze to death.’ And with that, he took his last steps and shut the door behind him. The light in his room immediately blackened, obscured by the stained glass in the small door window. 
You looked down at the jacket. Like all those the captain wore, it was black but heavily layered. Decorated in what seemed like hand-stitched gold but not in any fashionable manner. The stitching was uneven and needed a clear pattern. The sleeves were falling apart but tied together with what once must have been a silver necklace. Several of them, even. You glanced once more in the direction of the captain’s cabin before putting the coat on. It swallowed you up but immediately brought over a sense of comfortable heat over your body. The soft material protected you against the wind. Now not feeling like your bones were becoming icicles, you began to feel some pleasure in the whole thing. As you kept working, you slowly forgot why you sat in the middle of the ship and let yourself be emersed by the stars. Being out there on your own was actually freeing in a strange sense. The darkness locked you out of your extended surroundings, placing you virtually anywhere.
Well, not anywhere. The constellations held the password to where you found yourself, and you would decrypt it anytime now. 
But first, you needed to stretch your legs. The cracking of your joints was enough of a sign that you had sat on that floor long enough. With the lantern in hand, you walked in circles around the ship. The light swung in motion to your steps, in motion to the waves. When you looked out at the sea, you were greeted with two moons. One hung still in the sky while her sister swam in the waters. Mirrored images of each other, smiling and frowning in both directions, but never in reach. Conflicted, perhaps or maybe they simply managed to show you bits of yourself there?
You wanted to say something to them as you stood there, but no words felt right. So, peaceful silence it was. However, the longer you stood there, the more of an effect you thought from the hours you spent on the deck. And there was still so much you had to do. But you could do it. 
Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you leaned against the railing, placing the lantern beside you. The yawn pushed passed your lips without a choice but plenty of resistance. If you stayed there, you would probably fall asleep soon, which is ineffective. So, you grabbed the light, and with your free hand deep in your pocket to keep warm, you returned to your star gazing spot. But not one step in your brisk walk back, you halted. A feeling of something cold and hard against your hand occupied your entire mind there and then. When you pulled it out, you were unsure what it was, but the mechanism must have worn out through the years because it fell open in your hand, revealing a rose. Its arrow pointing right at you. 
A compass. 
Your head immediately shot toward the captain’s cabin, but the lights had gone out, and there was nothing more to make out of the darkness. Your eyes shut into narrow slits. He had brought you his own jacket and must have known what was in it. 
The question now was, why? Why did he give it to you? Was he trying to help you by giving you this tool? Did he think you needed help to get anywhere? Well, you certainly did not. Especially when it could be a trap. The device could very well be defective and put you on the wrong trail, and then, if you were to give the captain the wrong directions, you knew he would not waste a second by punishing you. And this time, correctly. 
Still, according to your calculations, North was meant to be behind you, so in that, the compass was correct, but you did not want to risk anything. An instinct told you to throw the thing away, right over the railing into the sea. Let it sink and make the captain watch. Just like you had to watch, your own ship disappear into the waters. It would have been a small taste of revenge, but it was a start. 
The idea faded as soon as you shut the compass. You looked at the engraving on it—a detailed depiction of a bird–which kind, you could not quite tell. Perhaps a hawk… could it be… no, you doubted it was a Redtail. It could not be. The simple idea of that brought chills down your spine. How could Munson possess such an item; engraved with your town’s crest? 
And it was old. As you had noticed, the clip keeping the two halves together was tethering on falling apart from frequent use, and the window of the rose was cracked. The metal of the shell had finger marks faded into it from the usual position it was held in by hands much larger than yours. 
Not wanting to see it again, you pushed the compass deep down the pocket you had found it in. Determined to have the images erased from your mind by the rest of your task and the time pressure put on it, you retrieved your book. 
It was harder done than said.
As you stood there, book and fire in hand, spinning around to position the stars as you pleased, the tiny silver lights blurred in your eyes. But you were so close, you could not stop now, not when you were so close. Ignoring the burn of the compass at your thigh as your mind whirred with solutions. With North decided for, and with the latitude… no longitude— and if the charts were pointed this way— then, God, you could not keep this book up anymore. Your arm screamed from the weight of the pages. 
Back on the ground, you resumed your final observations. Flipping between the map and the charts, exchanging glances with the book and stars. Yes, if that was North, then… then… you checked the map once more, locating your home definitively. 
You did it. You actually did it. It could have been minutes, maybe hours; you could not tell with certainty how much time you had spent on the task, but as you shut the book, so did your body. You fell back onto the deck with a tired smile. It could have been the fatigue, but the stars shone slightly brighter for you, gleaming with pride. 
They also became blurrier. Your eyes turned heavy. But you kept staring up with a smile. At least, you do not remember ever stopping. Even if it is possible you fell asleep at some point, you could not tell at what point exactly. All you knew was that you dreamt. And for once, your mind was free of nightmares. As much as your world was free of them, at least. But it had to be a dream. 
How else would he appear out of the shadows?  Why else did you see him looking down at you; impossible to tell for how long. His features free of anger, mischief or bad intentions, unnatural. He stood there at the balustrade next to the helm. It was impossible to tell how long he had stood there in the dark. 
And his walk. It was utterly silent, free of chains or heavy steps. That could have been only your brain letting you rest. His touch was feather soft as he picked you up in his arms. 
You shouldn’t have stayed out here this long. He sighed in disappointment, but not in you.
You told me to— you mumbled. 
I know. The floor became unstable. You were floating in the air, rising up. Only his hold there to keep you grounded. The one time you should have been stubborn and not listen. Why did you not just go to bed?
I want to go home, Eddie. Why else would you say this if it was not a dream? You could never imagine yourself opening up to him this way. Let him carry you like that. And if you had, it would never feel this good or safe to be held by him. 
I know. He repeated himself. There was a shift. No longer in his arms, you were floating on a cloud, but his voice echoed around you. I’m sorry.
None of this could have been real. These could not be the words of captain Munson. But they still stayed with you as your dreams ventured on into other stories. All just as pleasant, the nightmares of all the nights before merely bad memories, never to be repeated again. 
I did it, you said quickly before he disappeared, to be replaced by your new figment. North East. Go Northeast.
Here is your final reason. The proof you had dreamt it all. A silent moment, full of hesitation. Then, a fluttering touch of lips on your forehead and a hand brushing your cheek gently. If this had been real life, you would have turned away and let yourself burn in anger, but instead, your lips formed into a smile, and for the first time in forever, you felt at peace. 
And just like that, like in any other dream, he was gone while your mind brought you to other fantastical places and told you stories you would not remember. It was a night of wondrous bliss, of rest. Filled with dreams as the stars watched over you. 
Only at daybreak did it all change. When the morning sun glowed golden through the large window. Only at that moment you began thinking that maybe, just maybe, you were wrong. Perhaps not all of it had been a dream, for when you woke up, you were not on the ship's deck nor down in your cell. When you woke up, you did so in a bed.
The captain’s bed, of all places. 
Chapter 5
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‘BINGO: hi so can u do a ‘YANDERE’ with Finnick Odair and prompt #2? can you make it a mutual yandere so that they are basically obsessed with each other. they are in an established relationship which just makes it even more intense ig? and could u at some point maybe give ppl reactions to them from their perspective? like how they are basically obsessed with eachtoehr and stuff if that makes sense
—𓆩[on show]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Victor! Younger! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - kinda fluff (for you), smut (lots and lots of smut), slight gore
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick has always taken care of you, and he had shown that by murdering everyone that ever touched you and winning you over just as easily as you did him. The Quarter Quell has come, and he will never let anyone lay a hand on you again, and neither will you.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - age gap (4 years) || relationship has always been legal || mentions of forced prostitution || later, Finnick kills everyone who ever touched you and you want to do the same for him || Finnick is literally insanely in love with you and you are for him || mentions of killing || harsh language || Finnick covered in blood is a huge turn on || this is very unethical health wise, don’t do this (words of a med student) || smut warnings are public sex, multiple rounds, blood kink, pain kink, marking kink, you carve your name into Finnick’s collarbone it’s the yandere block man I gotta go with it, blood eating? (You like lick blood off Finnick), Finnick carves his name into your thigh, degradation, uses of names (slut, whore, cumdump, etc.), slight choking kink, riding, no full penetrative sex
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Finnick. Finnick.
Who else was as gifted as you to have Finnick fucking Odair by their side every day? No one else, and you made sure of that.
But Finnick? Finnick spending every got damn day of his life with you? He wouldn’t rather be with anyone else.
And by hell's name did he make sure you knew that, especially before the parade.
“Oh come on darling, you’re doing so good for me. You like the thought of going out on that parade all filled of my cum? Hm?” He basically growls into your ear, his hips thrusting against your ass, cock continuing to hit all those slots inside of you that made you claw against the wall.
“Yes, yes I do! I do, I do,” you babbled without end, mind blurry and hazy as his hands squeeze at your sides, eyes rolling back as his hand slowly slips into the front of your dress, rubbing at your clit. “Fuck, fuck Finnick!”
He laughs, fingers rubbing firm circles before he hears footsteps, quickly looking to the side to see one of the tributes just standing there. Finnick’s other hand goes around your neck, putting soft pressure as he kisses against your neck as he maintains eye contact with the tribute.
Your moans grow louder, realizing it was pointless to hold back when Finnick was fucking you like you would never see each other again. To be quite honest, you couldn’t wait for when you both were put into the games and you could fuck in the arena. You both knew y’all were getting out of the arena alive and together, so there of course was a victory in fucking on live TV.
The pressure on your throat made your mind hazy, whines leaving your lips as Finnick hushed you softly, the other tribute finally having enough sense to leave. “Try to stay quiet, alright darling? We’re in public, you can’t act up like you do in bed.”
You nodded, quickly covering your mouth. “I’m so-sorry, I’m so sorry Fin.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, darling, you’re doing so good, so fucking good. Love it when you’re my own personal cumdump, desperate and milking my cock for everything I have.”
You whine, nodding along with him. “Yes! Yes, I’m your cumdump, Fin, I want everything. Please please please!”
He grunts loudly as the fanfare starts to play, desperately trying to hit that blissful edge as he thrusts faster, the sound of wet squelching filling the entire corridor. Your moans added to the sound, Finnick’s deep thrusts and loud moans making whines add to the symphony of sex.
“Tell me how bad you want it, you little slut, come on, tell me how much you want my cum.”
You babbled on endlessly just like he wanted, praising every inch of his cock and saying cock drunk things. “I want your cum, Fin, I want it! Please, please I want to be filled up again and again, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
He grunts loudly as he slammed himself into you, eyes rolling back as his cum spurts inside of you, a loud whine leaving your lips as he pants heavily behind you. His hand moves from your throat, your clenching pussy almost burning from overstimulation and the fact you had cum right when he did made your stomach churn.
“You alright, darling?”
Immediately, you nod, head lulling slightly. “More than alright, Fin.”
He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he slowly pulled out, fixing his outfit after pushing the cum dripping out of your pussy straight back in. The feeling makes you shiver before he pulls them out, licking his digits clean as you slowly turn around to pull him down for a firm kiss. He hums loudly, pulling you closer.
Oh he really wanted to fuck you again now.
“What the hell are we waiting for?” Katniss asks Haymitch and Peeta, Haymitch laughing.
“You didn’t hear them?”
Peeta basically gags. “How could I not? I swear, all of Panem probably heard them!”
“Heard what, what's going on?” Katniss asks, Haymitch humming as you and Finnick slowly walk out.
“Finnick and Y/N Odair. Freshly married, been together since birth, absolutely infatuated with each other. Finnick has blood on his hands from people who looked at her wrong, and Y/N has the same. Oh shit, here they come,” Haymitch fixes himself as quickly as he could as you walk tall and without a single falter, shocking the three of them after how loud Finnick’s thrusts were.
“Katniss Everdeen, as I live and breathe,” you say, giggling slightly as Finnick pressed a soft kiss to your head and smiled at Haymitch. “My name is Y/N, this is my husband, Finnick.”
Katniss nods slightly, how could she not know who you were when you both were fucking like rabbits in the corridor? “It’s nice to meet you,” she lies. “We heard the symphony of your arrival earlier.”
Finnick clicks his tongue. “Told you people could hear the cum dripping out of your cunt,” he whispers, making Katniss’ face flush as he laughs. “I’m joking. Kind of. We’ll see you both later. Haymitch.”
Finnick nods at their mentor before guiding you away, your fingers intertwined with his as he helps you onto the carriage before quickly following.
“They’re crazy, I love it,” Haymitch says as Katniss gapes at him.
“You don’t think that’s fucking weird? At all?”
Haymitch shrugs. “It’s not my place to think it’s weird. They’re in love, no matter how psychotic that love is, but it works. Besides, they’re the most dangerous people in that arena. If they lose each other, the other will go fucking haywire.”
During training, Finnick only left you for one thing — to spar with the mother fucker who didn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.
You stayed at the rope tying station, practicing your knots before you saw Katniss and Peeta walk in. “Katniss, Peeta!”
Your yell makes Finnick look away just for a minute, sending a grin to the pair before getting back into his fighting stance. It had taken a minute for the other tribute to agree to spar with Finnick, but after quick persuasion, he was finally able to actually get it done.
The first hit to the face was a surprise for Finnick, especially because he didn’t think the other man would play dirty with weighted beads in his hand. It makes Finnick pause, a slight scoff falling from his lips as he wipes the blood from over his lip that was coming from his nose while staring straight at the tribute.
Really? He knew he couldn’t win that much that he needed to use fucking weighted beads?
Finnick laughs as he wipes his blood onto the uniform, licking his lips and getting just a bit of that coppery tang on the tip of his tongue.
When you went silent, it actually scared Katniss and Peeta. If looks could kill, the entire room would be dead from the way you were staring at the man who hit Finnick.
“Excuse me,” you say, your bubbly mood gone as you walk toward the rope tying station.
Peeta nods slightly, his eyes following you to see how the hell you and Finnick were seen as the most dangerous in this competition. It made sense, yes, but he wanted to see why.
“Oh my god,” Katniss whispers, Peeta finally looking at Finnick who was truly showing how dangerous he was. It was obvious that he was skilled in water combat, but the way he fought even out of the water made Peeta want to sob.
Finnick easily caught the man’s wrist, knocking the beads out of his grip before quickly maneuvering to the ground to knock him off of his feet. He quickly straddles his abdomen, his fist slamming down over and over into his face.
“Get off!” A voice yelled, but as soon as Finnick did - his face splattered with blood - the man was pulled into the air by a rope, the man dangling upside down.
You jump down from the rafters, quickly making your way to Finnick who wrapped his arm around you. You giggled as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple as you smiled up at him. “You need to wait until the games, Fin.”
He rolls his eyes. “He can’t keep his eyes off of you.”
You shrugged. “That doesn’t matter, it’s not like he’ll be able to touch me, right?”
He grinned down at you as you wiped the blood from his nose, humming as you licked it off your finger. “Never, honey.”
You giggled as he pulled you toward the exit, looking back just enough to wave at Peeta and Katniss, their eyes wide.
“Did she just-?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“Am I the only one who thought that was kind of hot?”
“I don’t know what I thought of that.”
Finnick led you back up to the apartment, and as soon as the door closed, your hands were pulling off his clothes as he pushed you up the stairs, easily pulling off your suit. You could taste the coppery-metallic taste of blood on your tongue, his bruised knuckles easily opening the door to your shared room before throwing you onto the bed.
You giggled as you bounced on the mattress, watching as Finnick slipped off his suit and wiped off the blood of the other tribute. It makes your pussy clench, just the sight of him covered in blood, a whine leaving your lips as he wiped it off. Your fingers easily slip inside of your cunt, the feeling making your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slowly crawled on top of you, his nails dragging along your thighs. You whined loudly as he slowly reached into the nightstand, gasping as he slowly pulled out a small needle.
“You trust me baby?”
You nodded immediately. “Yes, yes I do.”
He smiled, kissing against your thigh before slowly standing. “You keep stretching yourself out darling, I’ll come back and treat you real nice.”
You nod, following his orders as he goes into the bathroom to pull out the first aid kit, grabbing the gauze and tape. He takes some, with the addition of some ointment because of course he’d take care of you no matter what, first and  foremost at any point in time.
He slowly walked back out, smiling at the sight of your hips rutting up into your fingers, loud whines coming from your mouth. “Can’t get it, baby?”
You shake your head. “N-No, I can’t, can’t, not without you!”
He smiled, quickly pushing himself between your thighs as he kissed along your thigh. He takes the needle, slowly dragging it against the skin, just not enough to draw blood just yet. You groaned loudly, your fingers pushing into your mouth to lick off all of your lewd juices making his eyes roll back.
But no, no he had to focus, he had to make his name look all pretty on your skin. Your hips buck as he puts more pressure, finally drawing blood as you cover your mouth instead. “F-Finnick? Finnick, it hurts.”
“I know baby, just give me a minute, alright? It won’t hurt for long.” He can see your pussy drop even more with arousal, a smile on his face. “It hurts but makes you feel good at the same time baby?”
You nod. “Mhm! Yes, yes it does!”
He smiled at the crimson blood dripping down your thigh, the ‘FIN’ of his name already done. “Almost there baby, almost there.”
Your skin burned, it truly did, but your body was so hot. You whine as his hand holds your quivering thigh, kissing along your skin. “Oh honey, calm down. It feels good, right? Just focus on me.”
You nodded, staring down as he stared at what he was doing with such focus that he almost forgot he had to stop at the K. He stares at the dribbles of blood running down your thigh, looking up at you. “Can I, darling?”
You nodded immediately, leaning forward to press his lips to your skin. Your eyes rolled back as he licked along the letters, sucking to get that addictive metallic taste into his mouth. You moaned loudly as your hands tug on his hair, whining loudly as his tongue trails over your skin before he pulls back. His teeth trail over the laceration he made, the marks that he made on you to claim you.
Your stomach tightens, hips bucking as your mind goes blurry, your orgasm hitting hard as a broken moan leaves your mouth.
Finnick inhaled as he watched your cum dribble down your pussy, his blood covered mouth immediately pushing between your legs. You squeal, hands tugging on his head. “Wait, Fin! I want you, I want to d-do it too.”
He looks up at you, grinning. “Let me clean you up, then you can.”
You nodded repeatedly as he rubs ointment on your thigh, covering it with the gauze and taping it down before putting the needle between his teeth and grins as he offers it to you. “Your turn darling.”
With that, he laid back and watched as you shakily straddle him, hovering over his waist as you hold his cock and slowly sink down onto him. You whine loudly as you take the needle and slowly drag it over his skin, not yet drawing blood.
“C-Can I do it here?” You whisper, settling on his collarbone as he nods.
“You can do it anywhere you want, darling.”
Slowly, you push the needle into his skin to draw blood, gasping as he lets out a loud groan and tilts his head back. He could’ve came then and there, hips bucking making you whine.
“D-Don’t do that,” you squirm, inhaling deeply. “I’m just… I need to focus.”
He smiled, nodding. “Alright darling, you make it pretty for me.”
You continue, the slight pricks of pain and the addition of your hot cunt wrapped around him almost made him cum then and there. He was so so close, but when you finished and set the needle to the side before leaning down and dragging your tongue over the mark.
He lets out a loud groan, holding your hips as you suck softly, thrusting up into you before you pull away with a whine. “You don’t want me to cover it up?”
He laughs. “No darling, of course not. Want this all on show.”
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omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
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𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪
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© asterias-record-shop
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hisui-dreamer · 1 year
Text
a world without you
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader
Synopsis: When Leona hears the Shroud brothers' plan, he thinks back to his herbivore, and how their existence has changed so much for him.
Tags: spoilers up to Ch 6!!!, established relationship, angst but fluff, drama, bot proofread
Word count: 878
Notes: this can be read as my view of leona's character, so please accept my leona brainrot <3 just some thoughts I had when I read ch 6. also leona might be a little ooc but it's his internal thoughts so I like to think he's more emotional :3
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"It needs to reset before we can start a new game."
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Shocked expressions were exchanged across the room as the implications of the younger Shroud's plan slowly settled on everyone's mind.
Leona couldn't help but think that, if the opportunity had been given to him a year ago, he'd likely have accepted whatever the robot kid was going for.
Leona always felt that he had been cheated in life. Ever since he was young, he was constantly compared to his older brother, who was seen as the epitome of success in their family, the perfect heir to the throne. Everyone would constantly praise his brother's achievements while dismissing his own accomplishments as trivial. It didn't matter that he was working hard to prove himself, that he could wield such powerful magic as a child.
He often wondered why he had to be born, if he was only meant to stay in another person's shadow to make them seem brighter in contrast.
No matter how hard he studied, how mature he acted, or how strong his magic was, it was all pointless. The ghostly whispers of the palace staff continued, and the judging remarks from the council intensified.
He was born as the second prince.
And he was destined to forever be just that—second.
When it finally clicked for him, he stopped trying. Why make an effort in anything, when time and time again, he had given his all only to end up with nothing? They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, yet expecting different results. Despite what others might say, Leona was incredibly brilliant, with a sharp mind fit to be a wise ruler. He knew, without a doubt, that it was pointless to continue down the road of insanity.
Instead, he continued down the path of sloth, eventually finding everything, the entire world, pointless. He found himself skipping classes and taking naps whenever he could, hiding away from the world where he would never be able to stand under the sun, but at least comforted by the serene embrace of his dreams.
He had wanted to turn the world to sand and start over.
It had been a wild thought, but here the Shrouds were, proposing an entire reset of the world.
Leona's mind raced as he contemplated the consequences of such an ordeal. Indeed, he had always dreamed of a world where everyone had an equal chance to succeed, where people were not judged based on their social status, birth order, or magical ability. A world where he was no longer burdened by the expectations of his family, where he was free to be who he truly was, a world where everyone was given a fair chance to succeed, and where no one was left behind.
And yet, without realising it, the thought of starting over in a new world had left his mind ever since you came into his life. You were everything he had ever wished for but never deserved in a partner—kind, caring, and endlessly supportive, always by his side despite his crude demeanour and harsh words. You showed him that there was meaning to living, opening his eyes to the people around him. He had friends who cared about him, incredible talent that could bring great changes, and most importantly, you, his dearest herbivore who shone like a beacon in the shadowed depths of his heart.
For the first time in his life, he felt truly content with what he had, despite all the flaws and problems that persisted.
He had never cared about resetting the world and losing everything he had to start anew. But it was a different story now.
What would happen to the people he cared about in this new world? What if he never met you? What if everything he had ever known and loved was erased? And what of the memories that he made at NRC with you, with Savanaclaw, and everyone else?
Leona's thoughts drifted to his memories of you, your fierce eyes staring directly into his, determined to befriend him; the quiet evenings you had spent together under the starry sky sharing stories and enjoying each other's company; the way you would instinctively lean into him for comfort; the dazzling smile that graced your face when you spotted him in a crowd.
He made up his mind then.
He didn't want, no, he wouldn't risk losing you. Your presence had given him the joy he had never experienced, the hope for a better day tomorrow, and he wouldn't give that up for anything. He would continue to work towards a fairer world, but he would do so without resetting everything that he had come to cherish.
He had learned to appreciate the people in his life. He had found happiness, despite the unfairness of the world. He knew that he had found something precious in this unfair world—someone who cherished him wholeheartedly for whatever he may be.
No, he doesn't want to reset the world.
"I'll grant you one thing. The world totally sucks as it is. But I don't think your new one would be any more to my taste. So I'm going to stick with this one. It's less of a pain."
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