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justanotherarmyfangirl · 9 months

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In Heat! 4/7

They're in heat, and you smell so hot...

Warning: 18+ smut, noncon, hybrid!bts, snake-hybrid!jimin x human!reader, dark yandere, Jimin is a stalker, and kinda a psycho, corruption, somnophilia, biting, paralysis, technically its not tentacles but I meannnn 👀 lemme just warn you in advance YOU CAN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU, Jimin has two penises because snake???

Slithering, he moves closer.

The snake watches as you sleep, inching towards your bed. He lifts his head up, tilting it curiously towards your outstretched arm, right by your hand lying over the edge of your bed as you sleep peacefully. The snake hybrid moves closer, slithering back and forth, left and right until he's wrapped himself around your slender fingers, closer, closer, around your wrist, forked tongue licking the faint outline of the vein in your arm, he's so tempted to pierce his fangs into you.

He slithers under your blanket, into your sheets, moving across your body as you shift in your slumber.

His cold snake form enjoys the warmth of your bed, of your heat. He moves across your thighs, curiously exploring his surroundings, over and under, until he settles himself right under your night shirt, in between your breasts, resting his head on your clavicle.

As you breathe in, he moves slowly across your chest, until he's comfortably wrapped around you and satisfied.

The snake hybrid has done this every night since he first met you, getting comfortable with your body, learning what you like most.

It is your luck, or perhaps your unluck that he's patient and enjoys the slow exploration into your world.

---

"Hey Jimin."

"Hey, y/n."

Your neighbor smiles wide, holding the door to your apartment building open. "Let me help."

"Oh! Thank you!" you stumble into him as he lifts the heavy weight in your hands, taking your grocery bags.

You stutter out your apologies as your body knocks into his frame clumsily. Jimin laughs heartily, only making you fluster even more.

Ever since you've moved into this area, your new neighbor has been so helpful and kind to you. Yet however many times it's been now, his attention continues to make your legs buckle.

What is it about your next door neighbor Jimin that makes you a stuttering mess? Is it his charming smile? His silky voice? His beautiful features? The way he steadies you with the softest touch while he manages to hold your bags easily?

He's just so...perfect.

"You okay?" He looks towards you, a smile curling up at the way you stare at him entranced.

"Huh? What? Yes, right, I'm f-fine," you stutter, jumping into action and rushing towards the elevator.

You stand in awkward silence as the elevator doors close. "Let me help," you felt bad having Jimin carry all your groceries. You try to grab at least a couple bags to lessen his load, but Jimin moves gracefully to the side and out of your reach, tsking.

"It'ss okay, I'm stronger than I look," he teases.

"You look strong. I think you look strong! I mean, you are strong, that’s obvious..." you laugh nervously.

“Obviousss?” His smile widens. “You have to pussh the floor number.”

“Right!” You press it a couple times out of your nervousness.

What is wrong with you? Why do you always have to embarrass yourself in front of Jimin? Why must you always act so stupid in front of your crushes?

Ever since you were a kid it's been like this, you would have hoped with age you would have gained some wisdom on the matter, and you had gotten better at overcoming your awkwardness, but there's something about your neighbor that makes you so jittery, makes your heart race and palms sweat and your body react in the most mortifying ways...

You wipe your forehead, looking away as the elevator rises higher and higher. It's hot in here, isn't it? It's stuffy. You're sweating like you're under the sun when you're only under Jimin's gaze. You fear you might even pass out if he keeps looking at you like that.

Ding.

You rush forward, pulling out your keys and racing to your apartment door. "Thank y-you-" Jimin walks in, right into the kitchen and sets the bags on the counter. "You don't have to do that!" But Jimin is already opening your fridge and putting away your groceries for you.

"Sssoooo...what are you making for dinner?" he asks.

"Oh! I was thinking pasta?" You grab one of the tomato cans before he puts it away, smiling shyly. Jimin shuffles closer to you, reaching behind you to open the cabinet and putting your coffee away on the highest shelf.

You try to move away to give him space, but you're trapped against his body, trying unsuccessfully to steady your heartrate the closer he moves.

"I looove passta!" he chirps in his soft melodious voice so suited to him, enthralling like everything else about him. He is seemingly unaware of the affect of his body pressing up against yours as he moves the pantry food around to better organize your cans.

"I'll make extra and bring you some! If you wanted me to, I mean."

You wait, unable to decide if this sweet torture is worth it. Sure, you have Jimin so close you can smell him, the muscles of his body rubbing against you with each movement, but the ache of his presence was almost too much to bear.

For the second time today you fear you might pass out as you pretend not to be wholly besotted by your naive neighbor.

Once he's done, instead of moving away, Jimin rests his hands on the counter behind you, caging you in and escalating your heartrate even more.

"Okay, but this time, you have to eat with me, promise?"

"Eat with you?" you repeat, "Eat dinner together?"

"Yess! Y/n! C'mon, you never eat with me," he whines, moving forward so close you have to lean backward, too shy to get any closer, your head knocking into the cabinet door in the process.

The idea of getting ready to eat dinner with Jimin seems like an impossible feat. The last time you agreed you took so long trying to find the perfect dress, redoing your make up over and over again that dinner time had long passed, and you pathetically packed his food and left it on his doorstep, hiding away in shame.

"Okay, yeah...yes!"

"Promise me."

"I promise!"

He smiles wide and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. "You're the beessst, y/n!"

Dinner with Jimin was perfect, just like him. He came over instead, probably worried you were going to stand him up again, and surprised you with flowers from his favorite garden. It felt like a date, was this a date? It didn't feel real, it felt like a dream.

A dream that turned into a nightmare.

---

"Y/n? What happened?!" Jimin opened the door, pulling you into his apartment.

You tried to stop crying, but you were a blubbering mess. Yet somehow you were able to explain to him what had happened to you.

There was a snake in your house! The largest snake you've ever seen. You couldn't stop shaking. Snakes terrified you, and to wake up and have one...in your bed...

You were frozen in fright, unable to do anything while it moved and constricted around your body. You don't know how long it had been, the minutes stretched to hours, and you couldn't do anything but lie there while it slithered on top of you! Under your clothes! It tightened around your stomach every time you tried to escape, making you terrified you were going to die if you moved too much.

Jimin held you delicately until you calmed down, then he made some tea for you. "Are you hurt?"

"The snake..." You couldn't explain everything to him, it was too shameful. You just nod, unable to speak, pushing the edge of your left short leg up slightly to show Jimin.

Jimin looked down at the rope-like bruise across your thigh, chest tightening at the sight.

He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight? And I can check your apartment in the morning."

You nod again, covering your face before tears escape once more. Jimin wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, offering you his bed instead.

You tried to rest, but your dreams were consumed with snakes. Horrible slimey snakes. You dreamed you were in a pit full of them, slithering over you like that snake had done. You woke up crying again.

It had felt so real...

"Well, he's gone now," Jimin sighed after looking through our apartment one last time.

"What if it comes back?" you mutter, eyes tearing up, worried he didn't really believe you, you barely could believe what happened yourself. "Jimin...I'm scared."

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

Your sweet next door neighbor Jimin spent the night.

He wouldn't let you sleep on the couch, and you couldn't let him either, so you shared the bed. Even if your heart was jumping to have him so close to you, it felt comforting to have Jimin in your bedroom, you didn't want to be alone at all.

Jimin reached for you in his sleep and you were able to finally shut your eyes, letting his embrace lull you to sleep.

Jimin watched your chest rise and fall as you slept in his arms. His finger ran along your collar bone, trailing down, between your breasts, over your belly button, stopping when his fingertip hit the fabric of your shorts.

He pushed the band down, revealing a bit of your skin, humming delightfully at the sight.

'So soft,' he thinks. He felt bad for you, you were so terrified, even now he could tell you were afraid, he could smell your fear...

Even if your fear smelled sweet, he didn't want you to be afraid...

Jimin dipped his fingers under the band of your shorts, lower and lower until he could feel wetness.

Jimin held his breath, biting his lip.

He can't help but smile, to feel you so wet.

He resists pressing inside, happy to feel you shudder as he runs his digit left and right across your mound, softly, slowly.

And like always, the slow rubbing heated you from within, until you were gushing, shaking, whimpering from Jimin's touches.

---

Jimin didn't like when you were gone, but he could explore and learn more about you in your absence. He looked through your photo albums, took note of your favorite music, went through your closet and found the clothes you were too shy to wear yet bought on a whim. He went through your drawers, picked out his favorite panties and placed them on the top of your pile in hopes you would choose to wear the pair for tonight.

He took his time going through every corner of your bedroom, until he heard the door to your apartment open.

You sigh, undoing the buttons of your blouse, pulling the tight fabric off you, and pulling off your bra, heading for the bathroom. Work was stressful today, you need a nice long bath first and then you'll invite Jimin over to watch a movie.

Your smiled, thinking of him.

Jimin and you had gotten so close now, and even though you knew he was just being nice, it felt like maybe he was starting to think of you as more than just a neighbor. At least you hoped. It was what you longed for, cuddled into his embrace on nights alone together. And you were hoping tonight maybe his soft touches would become something more. Maybe, maybe, tonight Jimin will kiss you.

You texted him your plans and relaxed into the warm bath. The hot water felt so good on your tired muscles and you felt yourself drifting asleep…

You woke up suddenly.

The water was cold now, your neck ached. You stretched and sat up.

And then you screamed.

Over the edge of the tub, the head of a large snake peered up at you, forked tongue poking out.

You reached for your cell and knocked it over onto the floor as the snake slithered curiously closer.

Should you scream for Jimin? He was right next door, but would he hear you? Was he even home?

You jump up, backed into the farthest corner away when the snake plops itself into the water. But before you can escape it slithers quickly around your ankle and you panic, falling over and banging your head-

You groan as you stir awake. The tub was only half full of water now, and you shivered wet and cold, realizing your predicament.

The snake was wound tightly around the lower half of your body, and tighter around your wrists, your arms stuck under you as you kicked and splashed.

This is not real, this is not real. It's all you could tell yourself, all you could hope for.

You had almost believed that night was a lie, a horrible apparition when it never returned.

Jimin and you had taken turns sleeping over at each other's places until you were comfortable enough to sleep on your own. Yet at that point, Jimin was always over, never leaving your side, so even when you had those bad dreams, you woke to him beside you and never worried.

But tonight you were all alone, reliving your nightmare.

You began to cry.

The water made it easier for the snake to slither it’s body around, it seemed quicker, it seemed rougher.

You trembled, in cold and in fright. You shivered. You wept, unable to lift yourself out of your tub.

You whimpered, please, please, please, please, repeating the phrase, unable to articulate anything more.

The snake moved up higher around your wet body. It's head was now right above yours and you finally found your voice and screamed.

You screamed for Jimin.

The snake hissed and wrapped around your neck, silencing you almost instantly.

You couldn't move.

You couldn't scream.

You couldn't call for help.

You could barely breathe, but at least you could still do that.

The snake had you caught.

It was wrapped around you like a rope, like it knew exactly where to place it's body so you couldn't escape. And it was tightening around you, around your wrists, around your stomach, around your legs…

---

Jimin wished you would just love him!

Of course he treasured those moments when you would embrace his human form, of course.

But why couldn't you love all sides of him! The real him!

He had watched you so longingly from his garden when you moved to the city. When you would visit and watch the flowers, he watched you. You were more beautiful to gaze upon, you were like a flower to him, just bloomed and unfurling in front of him. He picked you, you were going to be his.

But you screamed when you noticed him in the rose bushes, leaving before he even introduced himself!

So he had to find another way, a better way. Something about you, there was something about you that changed...altered something in him, like a chemical reaction. He changed for you, because he loved you. He changed so you could love him.

He found you cute, the way you would react to his human form like a timid mouse.

It delighted him, the way he could entrance you. Jimin was always very skilled in charming his conquests.

When you were asleep, you were such a sweet treat for him, he could gaze upon your whimpering face all night, embrace you in his favorite way, run his whole body along your curves and watch you unfurl again and again, his own beautiful flower, he only wished to pluck your petals until you loved him.

But you loved him not.

Then after he had finally slithered his way into your day to day life using his human form, he began to feel more confident. After such a successful dinner date he visited you that night again. He rested his head against your heart and tightened himself around you, the urge to get closer to you overwhelming him. Jimin had woken you up, and your fear was another overwhelming.

Jimin tried to calm you, do all the things he knew you liked, slowly and steady tickle your body until you were shuddering, until you were tightening your legs around him.

Yet you only looked more horrified after, so Jimin sulked away. But you went to him once again, found comfort in him, and it only confirmed what Jimin already believed, that you were meant for him.

Jimin enjoyed you, pleasured you, treasured his time with you, but he knew it could be better than this. You just needed to accept him.

If you could just love him how he loved you, everything would be perfect, it would be sssssssooo much better.

---

Your muscles ached, you were starting to feel the coldness travel into your nose and in the back of your throat, you started to feel sick.

Jimin followed the familar track along your slick body again and again, touching every part of you.

You grunted tiredly. You couldn't do it again.

You knew what this terror seemed to want from you, the way it slithered in between your legs over and over again. The very first time, that night long ago, you had thought it was a freak accident, something so shameful for you to have reacted in such a way, something wrong with you. But no, it was the wish of this monster wrapped around you, controlling you.

You had no way to escape, you had no way to hold it inside, you couldn't ignore the rolling pressure against your most sensitive parts, the rubbing across your clit nonstop and precise, the kneading of your flesh, the way your breasts were pressed together, how it tightened around each one, torturing you until the friction against your core became too much and you writhed along. It kept going, even when you thought you couldn't any longer, you somehow came harder.

But now you really really couldn't, you felt yourself slipping away, exhausted, your temperature dropping.

You whispered meekly, "No more. I can't. Please." Before darkness settled in.

---

"Jimin?" Your voice was hoarse from the pressure around your throat for so long. You tried to sit up, but you couldn't. Your muscles were too tired, and the way your neighbor had his body wrapped around yours, you couldn't have moved anyways.

Jimin sighed, relaxing more against you. "You're finally awake."

"What...what happened...there was...the snake...help..."

Jimin had received your last invitation to come over just before he was about to slither away back home. Listening to the soft rumbling of water as you started your bath while he was hidden away in the darkness of your bedroom peaked his curiosity. He decided to go to you then, he decided it was the perfect time. "It'sss okay, don't worry. I'm here now, and I'll never leave you."

You grunt, dizzy, looking around, you notice the familiar bedroom was Jimin's instead.

"Wait."

Jimin sighs lazily.

You're dry now, but your clothes...

And Jimin's clothes, where are his clothes?

Jimin feels you tense in his embrace, he shushes you softly, nose nudging your neck as he kisses your shoulder.

"I don't understand." You want to cry. "What's happening?" you ask him.

Jimin lifted his head, staring down at you, at your lips. And he slowly lowered his head again, softly kissing you.

For so long you had wanted this, you had longed for a kiss from your beautiful next door neighbor Jimin.

His lips were just as soft as you imagined…but they were cold.

Jimin deepened the kiss, licking across your mouth and forcing you open. His tongue roamed your mouth, invading inside and stealing your air. It felt like his tongue never ended, filling your mouth and down your throat until you begin to gag.

You cried against his lips.

"Sssssshhhhhh."

Jimin cradled the back of your head, he didn't want to do this, but it was the only way! Eventually, you'll learn to accept him. This time, to make things easier, he will indulge in his primal instincts, since it's been so long since he's used his fangs anyways.

They were part of him, meant to be used, so you should accept them too!

You whimpered as he opened his mouth wide and you saw the length of his teeth. Jimin mouth clamped down on your throat, right under your ear, fangs piercing deep into your skin. The pain was quick and then it was gone, and you felt no pain as his venom coursed through you. You felt nothing at all actually, you couldn't move.

Jimin's venom had paralyzed you.

Your breathing slowed down, you were no longer hyperventilating.

Jimin smile brightened, his fangs now showing, his long forked tongue darting in and out reminding you of...

No no no no!

"Oh y/n, you're sssooo beautiful." He pulls the sheet away from your body to admire your curves, the marks of his constricting love across your skin.

Jimin wanted to claim all of you, and in his human form he could do even more to you.

He pulled your leg open, frowning when he touched your center. You were usually wet. He smirked as he moved your leg open wider. This time, he wanted to try something new just for you.

Jimin settled between your legs, pulling you to his mouth.

You felt his slippery tongue enter you, going deeper than even his fingers. You let out a shuddering breath. Jimin hummed happily, lapping your growing wetness up. You couldn't tighten around him, but that was okay, his venom would began to wear off eventually, and you would be able to clench around his tongue soon enough, you would be able to moan out his name.

Jimin had been too eager and given you too much venom, now he knew and could give you the appropriate amount to calm you down just enough next time. For now he could enjoy you as much as he wanted, Jimin had all the time in the world and the patience of a saint.

The patience of a saint, and the tongue of a devil. What kind of twisted nirvana had you found yourself in?

This was a different kind of torture, Jimin putting you right on the precipice of orgasm and you unable to climax. Tears began to fill your eyes as he continued to wiggle his tongue around your insides for hours, massaging you until you were begging, screaming in your mind to come. Jimin happily continued as you gushed more wetness for him to lick up, until finally your muscles deep inside started to tense as the pressure built.

You let out a quiet broken moan as you clenched over and over around Jimin's tongue.

Jimin's tongue finally slithered out of you, and you finally met his gaze, his face glistening with your wetness and his eyes sparkling down at you.

"Oh, you're sssssoooo fucking perfect." Jimin groaned as he slipped his cock in easily.

You inhaled sharply when you felt another pressure further down, against your second hole. He pulled away, watching with glee as the sudden realization washed over you like cold water, because you realize the snake hybrid had a second cock. He pumped both cocks in his hands, both thick and long and intimidating.

He pressed into your slick again with the head of his first cock. You tried to plead with him with your eyes, but he looked back excitedly, rubbing his second cock against your hole, ecstatic to feel your body wrapped around him another way. He smiled wickedly, features shinning so beautifully your mind reeled and you wished to cry out in frustration.

Your slick helped as his other cock pierced into you, Jimin now inside both your holes. He settled down on top of you with a deep groan. He kissed you, tongue prodding to make a point, that you were his inside and out, and there was no place he wouldn’t reach.

He was so long you didn't believe he could fit himself all the way in, but Jimin was determined to mold you to him, his skilled hips rolling against your sex, pressing himself in deeper and deeper, and though you couldn't voice your grievances, his venom thankfully dulled the pain at the very least as you grunted the softest whine.

"Yesssssss, fuck yesssssssss." Jimin was lost inside you, feeling the most euphoria he's ever felt in his human form. "Ssssssoo fucking good."

Jimin hugged you tight, pistoning into your heat, faster and faster, both cocks growing thicker and thicker until he burst. You eyes rolled back, you were fuller than you've felt before, the tightness was overwhelming. He used you, fucked you and made sure to stay secure and suffocatingly tight around you as his long cocks throbbed and filled your cunt and ass full of his cum.

You were still paralyzed when he dismounted, kissed you and transformed back.

You were still paralyzed when he wrapped his snake form around your neck and shoulders and fell asleep across your chest.

Thankfully, you were still paralyzed, because who knows what Jimin would have done if you had started screaming.

this took such a turn IDK WHAT HAPPENED I mean I hope you liked it, hopefully I left the appropriate amount of warnings cause a whole lotta shit went down t-t KNJ | KSJ | MYG | JHS | PJM | KTH | JJK | BTS

#yandere bts #bts yandere #hybrid bts #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut

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dollfxcx · 11 months

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penny p... pussy eating 🙌🏻 (love your blog btw!!)

Context: after spending the night with a man named Robert Gray, reader wakes up from a nap with someone between her legs. but he's not who she expected to be.

TW: nsfw, mentioned tentacles??

Word count: (1.2k+)

***

You don't see him until late at night. When you woke up, after crawling, the night before, into your undone bed, the blankets fern green, you didn't find him by your side, neither in the kitchen, nor in the living room, as if he had dematerialized. But it's just as you're waking up from a nap, which surprised you in the middle of a movie you've put on to pass the time, that you feel his presence between your legs.

You try to move, idly, eyelids half closed and numb with sleep, but your wrists are locked firmly, as if bound by an invisible rope, above your head, resting gently against the back of the sofa. When you finally manage to open your eyes, a head of red hair happily emerges between your legs, a sight that makes you crane your neck to take stock of the situation. The slight expectant smile that had made its way across your face abruptly disappears when, to your horror, it's not him. Not anymore, at least, better way to say it. Pennywise smiles, bunny teeth peeking out of his cherry red lips, head tilted slightly to the right in a mocking way.

"Aw, is my Y/n disappointed? She doesn't like the way I look anymore?" he questions, his hands slide on your knees to spread your legs and make more space between them. You frown, slightly concerned as the grip on your wrists is getting tighter with every passing second, reducing your chances of escape.

"Oh, but yesterday she looked so happy, sucking on ol' Robert Gray's cock like it was candy, huh?" One of his gloved hands reaches for your cheek, gently grasping it, while the other, fingers light and teasing, caresses your inner thigh. He must notice your confused look as you feel him huffing against your crotch in exasperation, shaking his head slightly with an expression of disgust on his powder white face.

"Silly, silly humans. Always stop at what they see, never go beyond that." One of his fingers flies dangerously close to the zipper of your pants, a gloved touch so faint it almost tickles you. You lean your head back on the couch, lips slightly parted, as you wait for him to speak again.

"The man you so desperately crave is gone. I am him and he is me." Deep down, you knew it very well already and when he takes off your pants with hatefully studied slowness, you stop thinking about it completely .The man from last night must be in there somewhere, anyway, right?

"I gave him one of my favorite forms, the most human of all, for you." You open your eyes again, jerking your head up to meet his golden gaze. He grins at you, but it's not a sweet smile, it's hungry. Craving.

"Mh!! You get it, yes?" he asks, the pad of his index finger traces an invisible line from the elastic of your underpants to your throbbing cunt, slowly poking it with unexpected curiosity. You inhale sharply through your nose and try to wriggle out, lazily, you hear him chuckling in amusement.

"Get what?" you hiss as he pushes your panties to one side, fully exposing you to his critical gaze.

"That you've always been mine, doll." he murmurs, too engrossed in what he has in front of his eyes to pay any attention to you. You moan as he runs the tip of his nose over the skin of your thigh, gingerly sniffing your scent, you notice how his eyes have turned blue again and the sight seems almost enough to make you dizzy.

"Yet, as I am to adapt to the form I take, he gave me a part of his humanity." he explains as his now ungloved middle finger presses against your opening, spreading and stretching your walls with little to no respect, eliciting a whimper from your throat, your hips jerking in a vain attempt to meet and follow his movements, which are excruciatingly slow.

"And his physical needs. And his innermost desires. Oh, you'd never guess what he wanted to do to you, what I want to do to you." His finger curves into you, bumping into a spot you didn't even know you had and making your eyes burn with evil tears you try, in vain, to hold back. He grabs your thighs and yanks you violently off the couch, then pushes his finger back inside you now that the position allows it better, your back arches when his index finger is carelessly inserted too. He starts pumping them slowly, then faster and faster, thumb tracing light, devious circles against and around your clit, until you can't mutter anything but his name, over and over and over. Pennywise leans towards your chest, his free hand, previously gripped around the flesh of your thigh, thick claws now exposed, rips through your shirt, allowing him to dip his cherry-colored nose into the skin between your breasts. Since your wrists are now free, your fingers fly into his hair, tugging at it to pull him closer to you. Pennywise, however, doesn't allow it and stops thrusting his fingers inside you, he blinks quickly as if he has just discovered something new. Something very interesting. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them and if you weren't totally about to pass out, just the sight of it would make you cum.

"Oh yes, now I understand why he liked you so much." he licks his lips, golden gleam back in his eyes, and, without giving you time to say anything, he grabs you by your legs again, this time making the backs of your knees rest on each of his shoulders, cunt dripping right in front of his mouth. And it's a very uncomfortable position, you're already shivering, but you don't care anymore when his tongue, rough as a cat's and disturbingly long, begins to push inside. Your fingers try in vain to find something to grip, but there's nothing, there's just you and him and your whimpers, and they get louder and more shameless with every inch his tongue manages to reach, which is a lot, it seems to be endless, it wiggles and flicks and savors. His claws dig lightly into the flesh of your thighs, which he's still squeezing as if he's afraid you might escape, fine streaks of blood drip from the lacerated skin. When you cum on his tongue, however, after making sure he's sucked, tasted and swallowed every drop, he moves it to your new wounds, lapping away the blood, the color of which blends in with that of his lips, which, for some strange reason, leave a few lazy kisses on your skin, as if to comfort you.

"You taste good." he notes to himself, clicking his tongue. It's horribly enrapturing to see him like this, completely fascinated by the sensations he's felt just now, his gaze darts between your legs, hoping to find some… leftovers. You start to get up, your knees shaking, but you don't even have time to try that he jumps on you, his hands, miraculously and magically gloved again, wrapping tightly around your exposed throat, a treacherous little smile on his lips.

"You know I want more, don't you?"

***

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YIPPIEEE

#it 2017 #pennywise #pennywise the clown #pennywise x reader #it (stephen king)#pennywise headcanon #fanfic #fanfiction #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise x you #it fandom #it fanfiction #ao3feed #clownlove

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imaginejamesandsirius · 2 years

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Can you do one where Sirius gets hit on by a very pushy and handsy jerk who makes him uncomfortable (maybe due to past experiences?) and James gets excessively overprotective even when they aren’t even together yet at this time? I’m thinking of a feelings realization story where when questioned, James realizes that his overprotectiveness is not just because they are best mates

Sirius wished they weren't in a muggle club, because if they'd been in the Wizarding World, he would've been able to tell the arsehole that if he didn't leave him alone, Sirius would hex him-- and he’d follow through with the threat-- but they were surrounded by muggles, and Sirius was trying to behave himself because exposing magic once had been forgiven, but that wouldn't happen a second time. Sirius was trying to be responsible and all the rubbish that went along with it, and that meant not hitting this bloke with a confundus charm so he would walk the other way.

"Look mate," Sirius said, struggling to keep his voice even, "I already said no. I'm not interested."

"It's only a drink," he insisted. "What harm is one drink?"

"I dunno, maybe the fact that I already said no five times now?" Also, the fact that Sirius was busy pining for his best mate. It took up a lot of time, which people (read: Remus) didn't seem to believe even when he did tell them.

"There's no need to get all defensive."

"I think there's every reason to get defensive," Sirius muttered.

"One drink isn't going to kill you. We can talk, you can get to know me a little better, and then you can make an informed decision."

"Why the hell would I want to get to know you better?"

"See," he said, draping an arm around Sirius's shoulders, "it's prickly answers like that, that tell me you need a drink to help you loosen up."

Sirius looked at the foreign arm on him like it was the Giant Squid's tentacle. Actually, that wasn't fair. He liked the Giant Squid. He did not like this bloke. This was more like finding a bit of vomit on his coat after a night out. It was wholly unwelcome, as well as disgusting. "I'm plenty loose, but not with you. Feel free to take this as your sign that you should find someone else to stalk."

The man laughed, as if that had been a joke instead of a suggestion.

"I think he told you to bugger off," James said from behind him. When Sirius looked, James was glaring and had a challenging tilt to his head to match his rather angry expression.

"Uh-huh," the man said, not agreeing but acknowledging that James had said something. "And who are you?"

"I'm his best mate, and he told you to leave, so I suggest you leave."

Sirius squirmed, hoping to shake off the unwelcome arm around him, but it didn't move.

James caught the motion, because of course he did. He noticed almost everything, even in situations where Sirius wished he wouldn't; how Sirius had managed to keep it a secret that he fancied him, he had no idea.

"We were actually about to get a drink-"

"No, we weren't," Sirius interrupted.

"You heard him," James said. "Go."

"That's not-"

"Now," James said, voice firm and unyielding. Now was not the best time to get a thrill from that tone, but it happened to Sirius anyways.

The stranger-- who wanted very much to not be a stranger to Sirius-- straightened in annoyance. He finally took his arm off of Sirius, so that was a bright side. It was likely the only bright side, since it looked like the two of them were about to come to blows. "Look, I've been working on him all night, so go find someone else."

"Working on him?" James repeated, his voice a mix of anger and incredulity. "You need to leave. Right now."

The man went to grab Sirius again, and James didn't hesitate. He tossed both of their drinks into his face with a scowl.

Sirius blinked in surprise, watching the liquid drip down one very shocked looking face. Just as that same face started to contort in anger, Sirius stepped between them. "Like he said, go." He gave a little shove to accompany the words, and it finally got through the guy's skull that Sirius wasn't interested in him.

He mumbled a few unsavory things as he went, but all Sirius cared about was that he left.

They'd garnered a bit of attention, what with the throwing drinks in someone's face thing, so Sirius lowered his voice and said, "Thank you. I kept trying to get rid of him, but he wouldn't leave me alone."

James continued to scowl in the direction he'd left.

Sirius waited, then frowned a little. It wasn't like James to keep dwelling on a problem after it was solved. Sirius, yes. He could never let anything go, but James went with the flow. After a problem was solved, it was out of his head for the rest of his life unless it would make a good story. Rescuing Sirius from some arsehole that thought he was playing hard to get wasn't the sort of thing that made a good story.

He waited a little bit longer, but James was still upset.

This didn't make any sense. The guy walked away, and James should've rolled his eyes and either made a joke or asked if Sirius wanted to leave. The silence and the glaring were new.

"You all right there?" Sirius asked.

"Fine," James said, but it was wholly unbelievable because he was still glaring after a person that had (by now) long since retreated.

"Sure," Sirius said, drawing out the word so that James knew he didn't believe him.

James finally looked over at him. "What?"

"You look like you want to run after him and beat him into the ground. He was annoying and pushy, yeah, but not worth getting into a fight over." Sirius knew how much he was stretching the truth with that, considering how close he himself had come to saying sod it and punching him, but it was different when it was James.

"He wouldn't leave you alone."

"I know, I was there. It's not like you to be this upset over it, that's all. He got the message, he left, and he won't bother me again. We're done. It's time for you and I to start enjoying ourselves like we came here to, yeah?" Sirius said, grinning at him.

For a second, he thought it wouldn't work. He worried that James was going to hold some weird grudge about that guy for the rest of the night.

Then James looked at him and smiled like nothing had happened. "Yeah. You're right. I should er get us new drinks," he said, a hint of abashment coming through as he realized they didn't have drinks anymore, having thrown them rather happily into the face of the bloke that had been bothering Sirius.

"I'll go with you this time," Sirius said, "since clearly you can't be trusted to get them on your own."

James rolled his eyes, but it was with his usual fondness and the small smile that usually graced his face, making him always appear happy. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Anyone would've done the same."

Sirius knew for a fact that neither Remus nor Peter would've stepped in like that. They would’ve stayed out of it and trusted, as they always did, that Sirius would want to handle it himself. In fact, if anyone had tried that, Sirius would've been pissed. James was the exception to that rule, the same way he was to all of Sirius's rules.

They turned to walk to the bar, and James put an arm around Sirius's shoulders, holding him close to his side. It wiped away the feeling of that other guy, and frankly, Sirius thought that his shoulders had been molded into this exact shape so that James's arm would fit there.

"Thanks," Sirius muttered, reaching up to five James's hand a squeeze.

"Of course," James said.

'Of course'. It was always 'of course' with him. Any time Sirius asked him for anything, he said 'of course', like it wasn't a question that had even needed to be asked.

Sirius’s heart warmed, and he tried not to put too much faith in it.

"-and he wouldn't leave Sirius alone even though he must've told him half a dozen times to sod off. Can you believe that?"

Lily tried not to sigh as she looked at the clothing rack. "Yes, I can believe it because you've told me this eight times." More like three times, but still. That was two more times than she needed to hear it. "Why is this bothering you so much? It's not like Sirius got hurt. The way you tell it, he forgot all about that berk by the time you left the club. Probably before that, even."

"It's not bothering me," James said, a blatant lie.

"Right, you always talk my ear off about things that don't bother you," she replied dryly. "Look, you don't have to tell me, but at least don't lie to yourself about it."

James was quiet for a minute.

He followed Lily as she decided to look at shoes instead of blouses.

It was only after she'd sat and started trying on a pair, that he spoke again. "I don't know why it's bothering me so much. It just feels like a big deal, you know?"

"I mean this in a supportive way, but no, I don't know what you mean. Talk it out, see if it makes more sense aloud than in your head." It always worked for her, at least.

"I didn't know it was weird until you said something. How am I supposed to talk about it now and have it make sense?"

"I dunno, give it a try. Brainstorm."

James looked at her for a moment. "If I'm ruining your shopping trip with this, you can say so."

"It would take a lot more than this to ruin the trip for me. This is more like gossip, which never ruins a trip. Besides, it's Sirius. You wouldn't be you if you didn't talk about Sirius at least once while we're hanging out." She stood and surveyed her reflection. Nice. Of course, when it came to James, he talked about Sirius a lot more than just the one time in a conversation. As she tested out walking, she continued, "You always talk about Sirius. Not sure if you noticed that."

"Everyone says that," James said with a sigh.

"Have you considered listening to everyone then?" she asked.

"What would listening mean? Yeah, I talk about Sirius. I am aware of that. He's my best mate, and we live together. Of course I talk about him."

"Right, but Marlene's my best mate and we live together, and I don't talk about her near as much."

"But you still talk about her."

"Yes, I do. Look," Lily said, trying on a different pair of shoes, "this isn't a question of 'do you talk about Sirius', it's a question of why do you talk so much about Sirius. You're close, I get that, but sometimes I wonder if there's any point in inviting you out but not him, because all you do is pine away when he's not around."

"I do not pine," James grumbled; he never grumbled when Sirius was around.

"Whatever you say. What do you think of these?" she asked, turning this way and that so he could see.

James looked and considered before answering, which she appreciated (he used to just say she looked good in everything which was terribly unhelpful). "They're a bit short for what you usually wear."

"Mm, you're right." She liked how they fit, but James had a point. If they didn't match her others, she'd never wear them, because all her outfits at home were made to match the style of shoe. Delightful though these were, she wouldn't wear them. She took them off, put on her own shoes, and said a quick, "I'll be back in a second," so she could find another pair, one more suited to her wardrobe. When she came back, James was still sat in the chair, a small frown on his face like he hadn't moved a centimeter in her absence. "You all right?" she asked.

"Do I really pine when he's not here?"

"I mean... yeah. It's not a bad thing, you just like to spend all your free time with him."

Instead of this comforting him, he groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I do pine. This is terrible."

"I think terrible might be an overreaction."

James did not look like he agreed when he took his hands away from his face and crossed them over his chest.

Lily tried on the new pair of shoes she'd grabbed and gave James another glance; he hadn't moved at all. "Okay, erm, I didn't mean to make you panic."

"I'm not panicking," he mumbled.

"Sure you're not. Look, I didn't mean anything by it." She checked the shoes in the mirror. A good fit, and in her usual style. This was a yes. She sat down and put them in the box and started packing up the others so she could put them back on the shelf. "You and Sirius are close, there's no harm in that, but I think you're going a little overboard by being this upset about something that didn't hurt him. And he doesn't care about," she added, because if Sirius cared, then it would make sense for James to care equally. But this was nothing. Sirius was fine, he didn't care, he probably didn't remember it, and here James was two days later, still stewing over it like it was an offense to nature.

James looked up at the ceiling, leant back so far in the chair it looked like he was going to slide right out of it and land in a puddle on the floor. "Yeah," he said, but Lily got the feeling that wasn't a response to her so much as it was to something in his head.

"Do I get to know what's going on in that mind of yours?" she asked as she stacked up the shoe boxes she’d rejected.

"Do you want to?" James asked, which was a fair point.

"If it'll help you, I'm here."

He hummed, considering that. "It's fine." He pushed himself up to a more normal sitting position. "Oh, are you done already?"

"Yeah."

"Here, I can hold those," he offered.

Lily passed them over and thanked him, but in the back of her mind, she wondered if their conversation had had a bigger impact on James than he let on.

"I'm in love with Sirius," James said. He was the only one in the room. He’d wanted to hear how it sounded when he said it aloud instead of thinking it.

It sounded more official out loud. Like it was real. He'd already known it was real, of course; he'd had that realisation while shopping with Lily. He nearly told her, but it didn't feel right for her to know something about James before Sirius did.

He sighed, turning to the side so he could lay down on the couch. Sirius would be getting home soon, and James should tell him. It was the right thing to do, but he wished he knew how he was going to react. Most of the time, he knew how Sirius would react-- they knew each other well enough. For this, he knew what he wanted to hear, but there was no telling how Sirius would actually react.

Obviously, it would be wonderful if, when James said, "I love you," Sirius said it back. That was the dream, but he wasn't sure if that was realistic to hope for. Wouldn't there have been some sort of sign if Sirius felt that way about him? James's possessiveness was a pretty good sign of his own feelings, but Sirius didn't treat him like that. James didn't think there were signs out there that he'd missed; he thought they weren't there at all. He could choose to read into a few actions, but Sirius had been doing those for years. It wasn't a sign, but Merlin, how James wanted it to be.

He sighed again. He was like a sighing machine ever since having this realization about Sirius. He felt a little melancholy now, and he'd have it for a few more days after Sirius turned him down before he finally went back to normal.

James wasn't meant for this. Useless pining didn't suit him, and he knew it.

Although, maybe it suited him more than he'd like to admit, because the one bloke he'd tried to date had been... well, a lot like Sirius. James hadn't realized it at the time, but he had been. Not so much physically, but the leather and the devilish smirk should've been a dead giveaway. James had thought that he had a type that Sirius also so happened to fall into when he'd thought about it, but the thing that had drawn James to him initially was his laugh. Now that he knew he'd latched onto the person that was closest to Sirius that he could have, he felt a little queasy. How had he not realized it sooner?

He was still beating himself up about it when Sirius got home.

Sirius took one look at him and said, "Okay, so did something terrible happen while you were shopping? Because you've been off ever since you and Lily went out."

"No, I'm fine," James said, heaving himself back into a sitting position. "I had an epiphany is all."

"Please tell me you and Lily aren't getting back together," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose.

James snorted. That relationship had been awkward for both James and Lily, and all of their friends hadn't liked the way they constantly sniped at each other over rubbish that didn't matter and no one cared about. "Definitely not getting back together with Lils. I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb."

"You're not dumb," Sirius said.

James gave a weak smile, and Sirius stepped closer.

"You sure you're all right?"

"You and me, we're- we're close, right?"

Sirius looked more concerned as he sat next to him on the couch. "Yeah."

"So erm, this doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to, but I was thinking that maybe we could go on a date. Sometime. If you want."

"I- sorry, quick question. Is asking me on a date what had you so worried the past couple days?"

"It's only been the one day," James hedged. "But yes."

"Why would that make you miserable?"

"It didn't make me miserable," James said immediately. "I was doing a lot of thinking. I didn't know that I fancied you until then, so it was a shock for me to find out."

"You learned you fancy me yesterday and almost immediately asked me out?"

"Erm. Yes?"

Sirius smiled slowly at him. "Wow. I'm beginning to feel like the world's biggest coward, in that case. I'd love to go on a date with you, by the way."

“Great,” James said, trying not to smile too wide, but it was a losing battle and they both knew it.

#prongsfoot #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #marauders #lily evans #filled #no voldemort au #getting together #post hogwarts #past james/lily #siriuslystarbucks

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jackalopes-pen · 7 months

Text

Chapter 1: Encounter

Summary: Human Kite gets a relatively normal call, that is anything but quick and easy.

Characters: Kyle Broflovski | Human Kite, XXXX XXXXXXX | Azathoth

Word Count: 926

A/N: So yeah, let's see if I can get notes on anything other Phone Calls. That would be great, huh? ;-;

The darkness of the night functions as a great cover for anyone. For heroes, it allows them a certain level of secrecy to maintain a normal life outside of crime fighting. For villains and vigilantes it allows them to cover their faces and bodies to an even further extent and prevent them from being arrested. It’s why most crime happens at night and why most heros are active at night. In a strange way, one couldn’t exist without the other yet both have ulterior reasons.

It’s on this particular night that Human Kite got a call about some suspicious activity around the shipping yard at the docks. Apparently, some people were around the area. It was probably just some idiot teens, doing something stupid and he would be in and out in a matter of minutes. Though, as he went to the sight some things weren’t adding up. For one thing, it looked much more planned and orchestrated, for another there were no bags or shoes at the gate. He sighed, this might be a longer call than he wanted.

Kite flew over the shipping yard, scanning around for any sign of a person at all. He saw nothing, no movement or any footprints. Then slowly, the sounds of metal banging, and things being shuffled. This was much more than some teens doing something stupid.

He landed, and decided to watch from afar at first, waiting to see the culprit in action. As he turned the corner, he saw tentacles that looked to be marbled black and some other colour, though the lighting was far too poor to see. They were taking things from the crate and shoving them into a bag. Kite narrowed his eyes, the tentacles were taking prescriptions, and he knew who those tentacles belonged to. Those bastards.

“Azathoth! I think it's time for the kite to fly in.” Human Kite boomed as he announced his presence. The tentacles kept going, but a short-ish looking man came around the corner.

“If it isn’t the biggest thorn in my side since my own team. Can you cut the quips for like.. one night?” Asathoth responded, in an annoying relaxed tone. He stood, his weight shifted from side to side.

“I think that's a pretty sour attitude. I’d recommend laser therapy.” Human Kite quipped, this time mostly to annoy Azathoth and shot super-heated lasers from his eyes. Azathoth was quick, using a storage crate and one of his tentacles to jump up and evade the blast.

“Seriously? You’re that annoying that you just have to be a fucking conformist and use those tired ass quips every line-” Human Kite shot another laser as Azathoth was ranting to cut him off. His quips aren’t that bad, right? “Whatever. Just hold still.”

Azathoth launched three tentacles to grab Kite’s ankles and wrists. It was a quick job of lasers to make them retreat though. One tentacle grabbed a shipping crate, and aided by the others it flung the crate at Kite. He quickly launched himself into the air to avoid the blow. From this vantage point, he could easily blast lasers down at the vigilante.

“Why don’t you try dancing instead of crime?” He shot the lasers down and Azathoth seemed to evade him with relative ease. He was using the tentacles to his advantage, creating slimy shields for himself to block the lasers he couldn’t.

As Kite was trying to aim he missed the tentacles curling up from below that pulled him back to the ground. They held him relatively still as a forklift was thrown at Kite. He barely dodged in time, and heard his back crack a little at the sudden bend. He pushed himself back up and struggled his way free from the grasp.

“You’re really fucking annoying, but I assume you know that.” Azathoth sighed and sat on the edge of the storage crate he was sitting on. He was practically taunting Kite, but just sitting there and waiting.

“Well, at least I actually have morals, y’know? I fight for good and justice and against villains like you!” Kite yelled, letting his anger boil. He hated being trapped, forced into a conversation with someone like this.

“You fight for good?! You fight for the rich, and they’re the worst of them all.” Azathoth scoffed and made a dismissive hand wave. His voice changer made him sound much more ominous but couldn’t disguise the venom in his voice.

“Thanks for the headache, but you’re all out of time.” Azathoth flipped off Kite and jumped down behind the storage crate he was standing on.

“Hey! Get back… here?” Human Kite raced to get around the crate but no sign of Azathoth was left. Only a small token, with ‘The Omens have struck’ engraved around a rune of some kind was sitting on the ground. It was almost more insulting than the middle fingers.

The Omens, as they called themselves, always left these tokens at the scenes of their crimes to claim them. The police station kept each token.. and they had roughly 134 tokens. Azathoth was one of four Omens, and probably their most active member. It was all too frustrating that they knew almost nothing about them despite the group being active for 3 months now.

“Fuck!” Kite screamed and punched one of the crates. His fist left a slight indentation in the shipping container. This happened, it keeps happening. One of these days, they’ll be brought to justice, but for now.. They still roam free. They still taunt him, just by living.

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 2 months

Text

Yellow City, chapter seventeen - a Malevolent AU

Parker finds his place, and it is more than he dared imagine.

More of Arthur's memory becomes real, and raises serious questions.

It's time to take a risk... and it's one the Keeper might not be willing to take.

Yellow City, chapter seventeen. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

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

It won’t be that simple, little one.

Arthur heard him.

And Arthur woke.

Arthur woke draped across Parker’s chest, while Hastur’s tentacles lay on them both like heavy blankets. He listened to Parker’s heart, strong and steady, and closed his eyes.

“Hey,” said Parker, low, and Arthur listened to the resonance of it.

“Hey,” Arthur said quietly.

Neither of them acknowledged the god in the room, watching them with rapt focus.

“So,” said Parker. “Like that, huh?”

After a moment, Arthur decided he’d meant last night. “Yes. More intense, though. He went light on you.”

“Fuck,” whispered Parker. “No wonder you’re bonkers.”

Arthur chuckled. “Nice.”

“Yeah. That’s me. Nice.” And slowly, carefully, as though afraid he would wilt Arthur like a flower, Parker placed his hand on Arthur’s head, dipping his fingertips into Arthur’s hair, against his scalp. “Pretty weird.”

“Very.”

“I dunno what to do with it. All this. Yet.”

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, listening to Parker’s heart. “Honestly? Me, neither. I’m still working on it.”

“So nobody knows what’s going on. Great.” Parker’s fingertips found their way to the back of Arthur’s neck, rubbing a little.

Arthur made a low, pleased sound. “We’re making something new,” he murmured.

“Sure.”

“I mean it. New.”

“Seems like those ladies had this figured out a while ago.”

“What we have isn’t what they have. It’s different.”

Parker sighed and slid his fingers down the bumps of Arthur’s spine, soothing, slow. “I don’t trust it.”

“You think we’re going to change our mind about you?” Arthur said quietly.

Parker bared his teeth. “No. I think something’s going to go belly-up.”

It won’t be that simple—

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, unable to hold on to that strange, intrusive thought. “If it does, then we should take advantage now. I mean, isn’t it logical? If doom is coming, and nothing we do can stop it, why not enjoy our path to destruction instead of suffering before we must?”

Parker’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Don’t scoff. It’s pragmatic.”

“It’s wishful thinking.”

“It’s logical.”

“It’s fuckin’ fairy tales.”

“It’s what we need.” And Arthur pressed up on his hands, braced on either side of Parker’s chest, and looked down at him, solemn.

Sunlight filtered between them. Hastur withdrew his tentacles and hovered in the shadows, audience, not performer. Parker stared up, studying Arthur’s face. “Whatcha doing, Lester?”

“Convincing you.”

“You can do a better job at convincing me.”

Arthur swallowed, looking him up and down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So what if I…” A little clumsily, Arthur lowered himself down again, and kissed Parker’s chest, sweet and slow.

Parker flipped him over.

“Hey,” said Arthur, bouncing on the mattress.

“You’re gonna convince me, all right,” said Parker. “Lie fucking still.”

“Really romantic, Parker,” Arthur teased.

“You know what you get with me. This is what,” Parker said, unblinking, and slid his hand down.

Arthur gasped and lifted his hips in obedience to that touch. “Wh-what do we…” Arthur forgot words. He arched up again, demanding this time.

“I wanna watch you,” said Parker, hands occupied, and he did—watched Arthur in the morning light, studied every hair catching gold from the suns, focused on the trembling of his eyelashes and the flush of his face—until Arthur cried out, taut as a wire, giving his pleasure as asked.

Parker watched Arthur’s skin where he’d reddened him, where he’d steered. “Yeah,” he said in a low voice like unpolished wood. “That’s what I wanted to see.”

Arthur panted, looking at him half-lidded. Then his gaze locked behind him instead.

Parker tried not to jump as Hastur picked him up. He knew this was coming, knew, had thought he was prepared—

Parker couldn't seem to slow his breath as Hastur turned him to face those shadows, where glints like fiery gold made their own light behind an unseen mask. Parker gripped the tentacle holding him.

“Poor little traitor,” rumbled the god of arts and madness and Arthur Lester. “Are you afraid?”

Yes. “No.”

To Parker’s shock, Hastur didn’t laugh at him. Enormous fingers traced his lips, big enough to crush his head, terrifyingly gentle. “A lie?”

“A fucking… I… sure. Yeah, I'm afraid, all right? Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Make this memorable,” said Hastur like a storm warning. “We will perform for Arthur.”

“Wha?” said Parker.

Arthur sat up. “If he's not ready—”

Parker twisted in that grip. “I'm ready! Fuck you!”

Hastur turned him back around. “You have done so. And I would now return the favor.”

Parker couldn't catch his breath. Afraid didn’t cover it. How could it be afraid when he wanted this so damn much? “Do it,” snarled Parker. “Just do it.”

“You are ready to be taken by me.”

Oh, fuck.

“Only if you’re sure,” said Arthur.

Yes? No? Now was the answer, and Parker nodded. His words had fled the coop, but maybe they weren't needed. He licked his lips.

“Say yes, little traitor,” Hastur bid, and it was not a command, and that made it so much more powerful.

He chose. "Yes," Parker said like a creaky door.

The sound Hastur made in response was layered and pulsating, like Parker was going to be eaten by a thousand bears. “Then at last, little traitor… it is my turn.”

Parker breathed fast and shallow, and clung—white-knuckled, unblinking—as Hastur slowly and deliberately lowered him into the roiling black sea of himself.

So there were some sounds coming from the temple. Asenath, being a grown-ass adult, ignored them.

She squatted atop the temple, fiddling with a small knife, waiting for her sisters to return.

There were times—just a few—when she missed smoking, but not for the nicotine. It was just nice to have something to do with her hands.

Jez flew up over the roof’s edge, her red curls tightly pulled back. “We found another one.”

“Shit.” Asenath missed stubbing cigarettes out, too. It made for a nice visual punctuation. She stood, sheathing her knife. “Show me.”

Together, they flew over Carcosa. Across fields of growing things for pleasure if not nutrition; past the Seering Pools, which granted banished gods glimpses of all that yet remained; through the thick and noisy trees belonging to smaller nature gods, their only remaining place of the verdant; around (far around) the slimed and pitted stone that Y’golonac called his own.

It was a different side of Carcosa this time, but the same trouble: something from Arthur Lester’s head had appeared while he dreamed.

She stared down at it from the wall. “What the fuck?”

Below sat an apartment that looked like it had been cut out of the human world with a pair of pinking shears.

Its windows, impossibly, showed Cloud City. Typical for that town, the view was a combination of huge windows and cramped spaces because the gods had wanted humans to walk around outside and be seen, not huddle in their homes like baby birds.

The city through those windows was gorgeous, stunning in curves and bronze, gleaming in spite of the constant cloud-cover.

The lights worked. It had no wires leading to any source of power, but by gum, those bulbs were burning.

“Okay,” said Asenath, and had nothing to follow it up with. “Okay.”

“Yeah, I don't know either,” said Jez. “It’s really close. Should we risk visiting?”

Asenath sighed heavily. “I don't know if I'm ready to risk us like that.”

“But we are already risked,” said Yulie, her blond head not even reaching Asenath’s shoulder.

“Just a little less than if we left the city's protection, don't you think?” Asenath said gently. “Let’s see if we can scry it.”

They could.

The small spark flew from Asenath’s head and down into the apartment, where it was her eyes, and her hands.

This place was exact. Down to the paths worn in the carpet, down to the contents of drawers. The notepad by the phone even had lines from the last note Arthur had written (which proved to be FUCK IT CALL ASENATH), which made her laugh.

“It’s incredible,” Jez murmured. “His power of recall…”

“He doesn't know he remembers it,” said Asenath, steering the view to the bathroom. There were even some shaved hairs near the drain. She shook her head.

“This is dangerous,” said Yulie.

“Maybe,” said Asenath.

“She’s right,” said Jez. “Can any of us really afford this risk? What the hell will happen next? What if he imagines the wall gone, or something?”

“He’s not imagining, though,” Asenath said, frowning. “He’s completely unaware it’s happening.”

“I think we have to take him down, Az,” said Yulie gently.

Asenath waved her hand, and the scrying mirror vanished in a puff of steam. “Nope.”

They both stared at her.

“Nope?” Jez finally said.

Asenath counted on her fingers. “One, we are assuming this is bad. We do that because everything’s been bad for a long time, but that doesn’t mean this is bad.”

“I suppose,” said Jez.

“Two,” said Asenath, “we’re all forgetting we’re not on Earth anymore. Sisters, this isn’t our job.”

Yulia stiffened. “We are chosen.”

“Yeah,” said Asenath. “And we did our jobs. This? Monitoring, taking out potential threats to the balance? That was our job on Earth. That isn’t our job here.”

“But—”

“Mother’s got it. We just… our opinions matter, but it’s not on our heads. Okay?” said Asenath.

They both considered. “Fine,” said Jez.

Yulia said nothing.

Asenath tapped her chin. “Ladies, I’m wondering.”

“Yes?” Jez prompted.

“I have a theory. Let’s go back to the temple. They’ve got to be finished by now.”

They were not.

Parker thought maybe they would never be. Maybe this was forever, this river-torrent-tide of pleasure just edging over the line into agony. He’d be okay with it, if this was forever.

This was—

He hadn’t realized. Hadn’t known why Arthur screamed. He got it now.

This wasn’t sex. This was penetration, but it wasn’t—

He made that sound again, a helpless sound, a prey sound, and clutched at whatever was nearest.

Nearest was Hastur. “You wish for more?” teased the voice thrumming in his head, rumbling in his bones, vibrating his soul like a godsdamned guitar string.

No, he’d explode, blow apart, fly into shreds like an unraveled sweater (and when he did maybe all the anger and wrongness would fall out of him like through holes in a bag), but if he didn’t get more, he’d die. “Yes!” Parker screamed, demanded, barely aware of anything except him.

Exposed, revealed, opened like a book, read and translated into a tongue he didn’t even speak though he recognized his own cadence. It felt terrible. It felt wonderful. Hastur was in his soul, just swimming around in the mess of him.

Maybe he wept. It didn’t matter. Parker’s heart was held open, gripped and ripped so its halves quivered, core revealed, and he didn’t want this to ever, ever end.

All things end, eventually. Parker could not give a flying fuck how much time had passed.

He lay, clean, folded together, feeling strange; he’d been seen, somehow, to the depths of him, in a way no one ever had (though the Defiler could have, and he’d never bothered), and it was…

He hadn’t been rejected?

That sounded so fucking stupid. So sixteen and unsure, so if I say the wrong thing they won’t kiss me back.

What the fuck, he thought to himself.

Yet he could not deny: his soul was warm, and calm, and still as placid water, as if Hastur had held him so tightly that he could no longer rage.

Hastur had seen it all and still wanted in on this, whatever that meant. Parker wasn’t sure what it meant. It was one thing to be in control, to hold them at arm’s length and be the one to wrench prey-sounds and desperation from their throat. It was another to be the one squeaking, begging and crying, pushed so far and just far enough that it was bliss and agony betwined.

Parker wasn’t sure he could do that again. He wasn’t sure he’d stay sane if he didn’t do that again. Oh, what the fuck, he stated to himself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, you dick. Dicking idiot. That’s right. A dicking idiot.

That made no sense.

Yeah, he wouldn’t be trying to say words for a while.

Someone was, though. Arthur. Asenath?

Hastur was still here. Hastur was still holding him in the bed.

Parker felt irrational for a moment, absurd, because of course Hastur had to go deal with whatever was happening on his doorstep, but Parker wanted him to fucking stay.

“Demanding little thing,” Hastur rumbled as if quite pleased.

“Fuck you,” Parker mumbled.

“I think you need a little bit of time before we do that again.”

Saying fuck you on repeat probably was dumb, so he wouldn’t. He thought it, though.

“Hastur!” Arthur came at a quick jog, sounding up. “They’re trying to close Fripp Park!”

“What?” Hastur rose (taking Parker with him, so that was okay). “And what does that mean, little detective?”

Arthur stared for a moment. “I suppose it wouldn’t mean much to you with your background. Hastur, this is the only park on the west side of the city.”

“The west side,” said Hastur. “So the side closest to the bridge into the Wastes.”

“They need Fripp Park,” Arthur said. “We have to do something!”

Asenath came slowly up behind him. “Yeah. We do.”

Parker twisted enough to glare at her over the dark grip that his him. “Is it urgent?” he said in his best cop voice.

It did not come out in a cop voice. He’d gotten real hoarse in there somewhere.

She looked at him. She did not, to her credit, laugh.

Parker decided the whole city had probably heard him getting fucked anyway, and yeah, they should be jealous, so he sounded however he sounded. “Well?”

“Listen, the Lady can help stop this,” said Arthur. “Or more importantly, Tabby—her wife. She’s from that side of the city, no matter how well she’s doing now.”

Uh-oh. Parker peered up to see if he could spot any fear.

Hastur rumbled. “Is this case his idea or yours, witch?”

“He’s translating what I said,” Asenath explained with a significant look at the back of Arthur’s head. “Fripp Park was a place for the poorest in Cloud City, near the bridge into the Wastes. Losing it would have been a tragedy for folks who weren’t swimming in cash.”

Parker knew Fripp Park. He also could read between the lines. “It happened again. Outside the walls.”

“Yep. It did.”

He remembered the looks the other witches had given Arthur (who was climbing with help into Hastur’s arms, muttering about swingsets). “So?” challenged Parker. “Some dream shows up in the Dreamlands, and you’re losing it?”

“They don’t do that anymore, detective,” Asenath said. “And you know it.”

Hastur’s growl pulsed. “He’d been here for many years before that started. It has nothing to do with him.”

“It’s started after he was marked,” said Asenath.

Parker tried to wriggle to face her head on, but it was a losing proposition—he was held, and caressed, and it couldn’t be for his own sake because he was immune to all of that shit.

(He was.)

Parker scowled harder. “Marking ain’t that weird. There’s other marked here.”

“Yes,” said Asenath. “But none who haven’t died.”

What?

No. No? “That can’t be right,” said Parker.

Asensth sighed. “The humans who survived the Fire were harvested—and stolen.”

Parker looked up. “You said you marked people before. What happened to them?”

Hastur was quiet.

“It’s one of the reasons he gets his way here,” said Asenath. “As he was building the spell-base that would become expanded Carcosa, his humans defended the temple. Three died.”

“Defended the—wait, the fuck happened?” Parker demanded.

Instead of answering, Hastur dropped a bomb. “I had marked eight before him.”

Asenath stared. “He’s your ninth marking?”

“Yes,” said Hastur.

(And Hastur kept touching him, all over, soothing, and Parker had the weirdest idea that maybe it was for himself soothing, and maybe all those times Hastur kept touching Arthur weren’t just the possessive show Parker had thought, but some self-soothing thing.)

“Well, that probably made a difference,” said Asenath mildly, eyes wide.

Yeah, it probably did. “What exactly are you after here?”

“I was hoping to borrow Arthur briefly,” said Asenath.

“No,” said Hastur.

“I didn’t say for what,” Asenath said reasonably.

“Hastur,” said Arthur. “We can save the park.”

“How?” Hastur growled.

“That ninth marking might have knocked this hypothesis off its feet, but there’s only one other human in this entire place who is both marked and has not died.”

“The Lady has enough pull,” said Asenath, “but it’s not like she ever lived in the North Four.”

“The North Quarter,” said Parker grimly, who’d never liked that place, that whole area near the bridge into the Wastes. It wasn’t a place anybody chose to live.

“The park is all they’ve got,” Arthur said.

“Witch,” Hastur growled. “What do you want?”

“We need Tabby,” said Arthur.

Asensth nodded. “She’s not just marked. She hasn’t died. Neither of them have ever died.”

And Parker’s brain was in a weird place because it went, Oh, so there’s no reason to mark me, then, and he took that thought out back and shot it in the face. “So what’s that mean?”

Asenath exhaled. “So I’d like to test. I want to see if it happens if Tabby sleeps in Carcosa proper.”

Wow.

Parker stared. If it did, if that worked—

“She would need to be kept safe, stepping out here without that unnatural indwelling.” Hastur was so grim now (but his little touches didn’t stop, the constant movement of tentacles over Parker’s skin).

“Like you wouldn’t do that in a heartbeat,” Asenath said. “But yes. With the vote coming up, uh. Just.”

“You think someone might hurt her?” said Parker evenly.

“I think someone might get desperate enough to try. I mean. It wouldn’t go well, or anything, but still.”

In a flash, he got it. If Tabby’s dreams manifested too—however weakly—then it meant they could possibly bring stability to the Dreamlands with humans who were in the same position.

Would it work? How would it work? Would it mean abolishing the Contract system (which, while flawed, prevented outright kidnapping)? “I’m going with you,” Parker said.

Asenath eyed him. “Why?”

“To see the Lady. We were already… we were already talking about something.”

She eyed him.

“This works, Hastur wouldn’t have to shrink the city,” said Parker. “I gotta go with you.”

Hastur startled. “You read the map.”

“Yeah, I read your map,” said Parker, trying to make it sexy and challenging, but only achieving grumpy. So that didn’t work, but Parker peered at Asenath over the tentacles. “I gotta talk to the Keeper, anyway. We had… we were talking about something.”

“So you said,” Asenath allowed.

“I’m telling you, it’ll help.”

“I don’t see the harm,” Asenath said.

“I have not agreed to this,” Hastur warned, growl rising.

Arthur probably would’ve felt his way through that one with his fucky accurate (Lestering) magic powers, or whatever, but Parker wasn’t wired like that.

Fact: Hastur was content right now, at least to some extent.

Fact: Hastur was a possessive son of a bitch, and easily moved to jealousy over fucking nothing.

Fact: Hastur didn’t need a lot to reassure him. He just needed to be reassured.

Weird gods. Eternal. Brilliant. Big fucking babies. “Hey,” Parker said, looking up. “It’s okay. Nobody’s gonna get snatched, all right? I’ll watch out for Arthur, and he’s marked, anyway.”

“But you wish to place yourself out of my reach,” said Hastur.

Fact: Hastur was the biggest baby of them all. “Naw,” said Parker. “I’m just goin’ along to make sure this goes right. I’m fuckin’ yours. Okay? Partners. Or whatever. I chose you, asshole.”

Hastur’s growl quieted.

Arthur cupped the tentacle nearest his face and bent his lips to it. “It’ll be all right. The Lady won’t do anything untoward.”

Parker snorted. “‘Untoward?’ Really, Lester?”

Arthur gave Parker a dry look.

“‘Kay,” said Asenath. “Whoever’s coming, put on some clothes.” And she walked off to sit on the temple steps.

Whoever’s coming turned out to be all three of them.

“No,” said Hastur.

“We won’t be in danger,” Parker said, thinking of what it might have done to Hastur to lose eight marked.

“It’s the right thing, and you know it,” said Arthur firmly.

“No,” said Hastur, but with them double-teaming him (and boy, did that conjure some imagery), he could not hold out.

The compromise was accompanying them to and fro, and lavishing some gift upon the Keeper. Hastur chose a thin, gleaming chain that tinkled and glinted.

Asenath did a double take at Parker, who for once did not match Arthur. He’d been given a sort of dark outfit, its top open to his waist, slit down his thighs, open at his back. “Not twins today?”

Arthur was in a diaphanous smock and didn’t know it. “Twins?”

Asenath nodded in Parker’s direction. “New look.”

“Oh, yes,” said Arthur. “Hastur’s the flashy one. I’m more middle-of-the-road with lighter colors, and Hastur said Parker’s the shadow.”

“Quite the gamut you’re covering there,” said Asenath.

“We try,” said Arthur.

Asenath led away from Dagon’s pavilion. Together, they crossed the massive and empty Golden Square, its gold tiles gleaming, its singing trees lightly warming up for a new performance.

Carcosa was quiet; it was night time (a rare state of things), and the stars were what had been dreamed centuries ago, constellations clear as drawings, numerous moons that changed with every glance, and a smooth, beautiful rim of deep purple-blue around the horizon, as if the sun had set in every direction at once.

“Surprised you’re walking,” Arthur murmured.

Parker glared. “Shut the fuck up, Lester.”

Arthur laughed at him. “Something, though. Right?”

A beat while they walked. “Yeah. Something.”

“You made him really happy,” Arthur nearly whispered.

“Sure.”

“He’s wanted to for years.”

Parker looked at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Hm. I been thinking,” Parker murmured.

“About what?” said Arthur.

“Just wondering how much of your act is really crazy versus handling the big guy back there.”

Arthur was silent for a few steps. “Maybe it just worked out.”

“Uh-huh.”

Asenath stopped and pulled a doorknob out of nowhere. “Everyone on good behavior,” said Asenath and inserted the knob into nothing and turned.

Great, spiraling fractal patterns swept out from her hand, twisting into the unmistakable shape of a red-painted door, perhaps ten feet tall, singular.

The knob turned.

“You bitches better have thin mints,” said Tabby, blocking the impossible glimpse through thin air directly into the Scriptorium with her short, stocky frame. Just as quickly, though, her face split into a warm smile. “Asenath! Hey! And you brought my best friend!”

Sure.

Parker looked her over. Yeah. Tabby looked okay. She hadn’t been harmed by whatever the goddess was doing. That mattered more than it had before. Mattered that at least some of these gods gave a fuck.

Arthur smiled and doffed his imaginary hat. “Hello, Missus Keeper.”

“No, no, nope,” Tabby said. “Please, dude, call me Tabby. Everyone does, except the wife when she’s mad at me.” She let out a bark of a laugh.

“Tabby,” said Arthur, like he was practicing it. “Only if you’re sure. I mean, you’re married to her, so you’re technically royalty.”

Parker side-eyed him.

“You’re my bestie’s bestie, bud, I think we can skip formalities for me if nothing else.”

Parker side-eyed them both.

Asenath grinned. “Did Keeps do that apple pie?”

“Keeps got the apple pie figured out, yeah,” Tabby added. “She also got bored and made a few more; we’ve got strawberry, key lime. She also made one hell of a chocolate cake, too, but I think she’s just stress baking at this point.”

Asenath groaned. “I haven’t had key lime since that fucked-up ritual screwed the ocean routes. Damn. Lemme at it.” She stepped inside.

Tabby paused, looking past their shoulder at the god hovering just out of reach. "Uh. Is he coming?”

“No,” said Hastur, weighing it down with great solemnity. “I will give a gift when they are returned safely.”

Tabby’s eyebrows rose.

“It’ll be okay,” said Arthur. “We have important things to talk about tonight.” He gave Hastur a warm, intimate smile, and stepped inside.

“Come on, bestie,” said Tabby.

Bestie. Best friend. What in hell was her angle? “Sure,” Parker said, and followed.

“Return to me,” said Hastur softly as the door closed, and Parker heard it, and added it into the evidence drawer of puzzles he was slowly unraveling.

“Glad he’s staying out. Spares me an uncomfortable conversation with Keeps,” Tabby said, a sigh worming out of her; she rocked back on her heels, giving Parker a once over. “Look at you! Got your own color this time and everything!”

Parker blinked at her. “Uh. Yeah. I asked for it.” He paused. “He’s not so bad if you know what fuckin’ tail to pull.”

Tabby watched him for a long moment, appraising; a soft smile slipped across her face, the expression making her seem younger. "Good,” she said, and then promptly gave him a playful shove. “Anyway. Keeps is gonna be so excited to see you. She decided on tacos.”

Arthur perked up. “What are tacos?”

Tabby stared at him. “Oh, my gods,” she muttered. “She’s going to blow your fucking mind. Oh my gods. And she’s making fresh tortillas right now, too.” She whirled on her heel, combat boots planted. “Asenath! Fuck the dining room, we’re going to the kitchen! These bitches don’t know what tacos are!”

Whatever they had been expecting from the kitchen, this wasn’t it.

A wall lay between two of the coffin-bookcases, and at Tabby’s approach, a wooden door melted out of the wallpapered surface. In the dim light Parker could see a faint, gentle pattern of whorls and arcs in the green paper.

The space was the sort of kitchen found only in the possession of royalty, and it was busy. The ceilings stretched impossibly high, draped with black cloth, and in the center—

“Hi, babe!” Tabby trotted up to the figure draped in black in the center, wrapping her arm around the full, silk skirt, and the Keeper paused in the middle of kneading a mass of dough to embrace the girl fully.

Parker stared around. It was as different from his last visit as his experience had been from Arthur’s. Bright, cheerful, living— “He did it,” he whispered. “He changed her. Fuckin’ Lestered.”

“How good it is to see you again, Mister Yang,” the Keeper said, craning her head to look at him; a black veil flowed around her face and shoulders, obscuring her features. “To be perfectly fair, my current manifestation is at the request of my wife.”

Of course it was. “Looks good.”

“To find yourself and Mister Lester here is a pleasant surprise.” She stopped, then, head craning upward; a low, angry growl began to reverberate through the floor.

“He’s staying outside,” Tabby said, sighing, hopping onto a stool next to her. “It’s fair. You have his husband, after all.”

“Hastur will be all right. I’m sure he’ll also be all right when he is finally invited in,” Arthur said firmly, as though overlooking a breach of etiquette.

“It’s not personal,” Tabby said with a shrug. “We aren’t suuuper fond of men. You know?”

“Of course,” said Arthur, who clearly didn’t, but was trying his best to empathize.

Parker stayed on the job. “Okay. So what the fuck’s a taco?”

“A traditional Mexican foodstuff consisting of a small, hand-sized corn or wheat based tortilla—”

“Babe, they don’t know what any of that means,” Tabby interjected.

“—typically folded around a variety of fillings and eaten.”

“Good shit inside a shell.” Tabby sighed. “Knowledge god.”

“A few more moments, and they will be ready,” the Keeper said; her four arms resumed work on the dough she was kneading, flour crusting around her long fingers.

“A shell?” said Parker, picturing the kinds of shells creatures that crawled from the Lake or the ocean wore.

“We need a hammer?” said Arthur, picturing, apparently, the same thing.

“Shell as in—”

“It’s just what you call the wrapping. It’s made out of like—like a flatbread.” Tabby snorted. “Anyway. Y’all want a drink?”

Parker frowned. “Why didn’t you say bread?”

“Look how thin it is,” said Arthur, leaning right into the Outer God’s personal space, unafraid.

“Shit!” Parker yanked him back.

“I am perfectly safe to be around, Mister Yang,” the god said with a soft laugh. “I mean neither of you any harm.”

Easy to say, but gods were temperamental as fuck. “He didn’t mean nothing by it, anyway.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur murmured to him. “It’s okay.”

Parker scoffed. He wasn’t Hastur and didn’t need to be handled and—

“It really isn’t personal, she just super doesn’t trust male gods,” Tabby muttered to them. “A tortilla is a kind of bread. It’s meant to be thin—she’s got a press, see?”

As if on cue, the Keeper portioned off a small piece of dough, setting it on a circular pair of disks; an arm sprouted from the wall and smashed the dough flat between, and the Keeper tossed it onto a pan that sizzled once the dough hit it.

“I fucking love having a housewife,” Tabby said.

One of the Keeper’s arms gave her a playful swat on the swell of her rear.

“Anyway, y’all want a beer? I’m feeling a Corona with a wedge of lime myself,” Tabby said like this was normal.

“I could use a beer,” said Parker, who really fucking needed it.

Asenath sighed heavily. “So tell me this, ladies: do we do the hard thing now, or after dinner and then enjoy the meal to unwind?”

Tabby paused at the door of an icebox, a quartet of the strangest looking beers Parker had ever seen held in her fingers. “Uh, what?”

“Did you bring Parker and Arthur here to try and manipulate me?” the Keeper said, voice silken.

“Hey now, no getting spicy,” Tabby said; she grabbed a small, green, egg-shaped thing from a bowl on a counter and a paring knife. Effortlessly she cut the green egg in half, a pleasant sour smell filling the air as she made wedges out of it.

“I absolutely did,” said Asenath, who would not lie to this god.

That subsonic, floor rattling growl started up again.

Tabby slapped the countertop. “Keeper.”

The god stood, stock still, a frozen portrait; the only thing that indicated she was still there at all was that rattle of the bottles, which sent bubbles to the surface of the beer within.

Tabby stared her down. “We knew there’s something Asenath wanted to ask. We agreed to hear her out.”

“I will not be subject to such an—”

“They aren’t asking anything yet,” Tabby said, voice low. “Hear them out. We agreed.” Tabby hopped off the stool and strode right up to her god, and with no hesitation whatsoever ducked her head beneath the veil.

Arthur turned away, blushing.

Parker gawked.

Asenath waited.

The growl slowed, stopped. Tabby’s voice was a quiet murmur beneath the veil, and she reached upward, pulling the god’s face down to hers before emerging. “She’s good. We’re good.”

“Let's get this over with, shall we?” The Keeper turned back to the food, and let out a sigh. “I burnt the tortilla.”

“Next one,” Tabby said.

“Next one,” her god agreed.

Asenath took a deep breath. “So Arthur’s brain did it again. Bits of his past, showing up just outside the walls—whole and perfect and beautiful.”

Parker knew that word choice was intentional.

Tabby opened the bottles of beer with a hiss, dropped her strange fruit-wedge into one, and took a deep swig.

“How very interesting,” the Keeper said, trying and failing to sound disinterested. Instead she kneaded the remaining tortilla dough more aggressively.

“We wouldn’t expect less of Azathoth’s special little boy,” Tabby said, dry.

The Keeper choked down a laugh, hands flying to her hidden mouth, and gasped. “Tabby!”

Tabby winked at Parker and raised her beer.

What was that about?

Parker stared at them. He picked up the beer. Finer glasswork than he was used to; he eyed the wedge on the lip, then did as she’d done, squeezing and dropping it in.

“So,” Asenath said. “We want the Dreamlands working again, am I right?”

“I take it people are getting a bit stir crazy,” the Keeper said.

“We’d know a thing or two about that,” Tabby said, placing a beer in front of Arthur and Asenath both.

“Well, and the whole looming destruction thing,” Asenath said mildly.

The god sighed, tired, bone-weary. “Come out with it, Asenath.”

Parker sipped. Held out his bottle. Stared at it like he’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“Theory,” said Asenath, gesturing with her beer. “The Dreamlands suffer because there aren’t enough humans to control its completely imagination-fueled existence. With me so far?”

“I am aware, Asenath.” The Keeper’s head swiveled on her impossibly long neck, facing them as she moved over and began frying tortillas on the pan.

“Except Arthur is affecting them.” She sipped. “I’ve been trying to work out why. You know what I think?”

“What do you think?” Parker muttered, still staring at his beer.

“I think it’s because Arthur is marked—and he never died.”

Parker looked at her. “Why does that matter?”

“Because after we die, whatever we dream feeds the Dark World,” said Asenath.

Tabby sat up. “Oh, fuck.”

Parker looked down. Yeah, of course marking worked that way if you were alive. He had to get this idea out of his head because it wasn’t going to—

The Keeper went very, very still. “I see,” she said, voice soft.

“Just a theory,” Asenath said again. “But there’s one way to prove it.”

“And I suppose that theory involves the only other known human like him being entrusted into the care of them, gods known for cruelty and madness—”

Tabby leaned forward, eyes trained on her god-wife. “Keeps, take a breath. You’re reacting, not listening—”

There was something happening with the god’s form; the edges of her body blurred, flaked.

“Why would I assume otherwise? That which was precious to me was stolen and maimed and slaughtered before my very eyes, over and over again—”

Tabby leapt to her feet, beer abandoned, and ran. “This isn’t like that,” she soothed, wrapping her hands around the god’s thin waist. “That isn’t going to happen again. Come on, focus on me—”

“And it wasn’t enough! It wasn’t enough then, that they wrung every drop of magic out of my acolytes, they still screamed their demands at me until I killed every fool who tried. And now, after the Mother DARED to wrench my heart with Hastur’s little PET—”

“That’s not fucking fair to him!” Tabby yelled over the god’s rising voice.

“And even after I chose, at risk to MYSELF, at risk to MY PEOPLE to AID YOU, YOU WANT TO TAKE HER TOO?” The Keeper shrieked.

Parker didn’t know he was going to speak up before he did. “Nobody’s getting taken. Fuck’s sake.”

Arthur bit his lower lip. “Parker, they were taken.“

“Yeah,” said Parker. “So we’re Hastur’s. Right? I’m right. So he gets it, and you’re not alone in your grief, and it sucked. And he wouldn’t just let it happen again.”

Did he know he was right? Of course not. But he was pretty sure.

Things really were bad for everybody in the Fires of Y.

“I think she’s worried it might start the situation again,” said Asenath.

“Even with the books you made people into?” Parker blinked. “They’re that dumb?”

“You tell me,” said Asenath.

Parker pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Fix: we take some books with us. Let those assholes hear the screams. That’ll make them think twice.”

“Or maybe we don’t do it at all,” said Arthur.

In a sudden, awful movement the Keeper collapsed into a pile of silk that Tabby immediately waded into. “Hey. It’s alright,” the girl soothed, plopping down in the center of it. “After everything we’ve been through? Knowing what you might do if I die? I think Hastur will trip over his own tentacles to make sure I get given back.”

Arms emerged from the silk, wrapping around the girl’s torso.

Asenath sighed. “Look, if it’s no, it’s no. It’s all right. It just means it’ll take longer. We’d do it, but none of us got here alive.” She wasn’t wrong. “If it’s no, it’s no. Okay? But all we need is for Tabby to sleep in Carcosa. That’s it. That’s all I’m asking.”

The hands trembled; Tabby pulled one to her chest, the red-stoned wedding band glimmering on the god’s finger. “Okay. I sleep over, and then I come right back. Right?”

“And if you do dream something that changes the Dreamlands?” There was a wobble to the god’s voice. “What then? What will you do when one night becomes two, becomes twenty, becomes your duty to aid Arthur—and what would that mean for other humans, if so? Assuming there are even ways to get humans into the Dreamlands still—”

“You’re still panicking,” Tabby murmured.

“What stops someone from playing matchmaker to mark enough humans with lesser gods to stabilize things? A marking must have two willing participants, but you and Arthur both are proof that informed consent is not necessary.” The Keeper let out a sob.

“I forgave you,” Tabby said, soft. “I know why you did it, Keeps. I forgive you, and I love you. But you’re talking in a lot of ‘what-ifs’, not in anything with proof.”

The pile of silk shuddered into the ground, fading slightly.

“She needs to hear why this will be safe,” Tabby said, looking hard at Parker.

“Okay. What stops the gods from doing all that now?” said Parker. “From entering Earth? From fucking over Contracts? There’s ways to rein them in, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation because I sure as fuck wouldn’t have been born.”

“He’s got you there,” Tabby said softly.

“The Mother did those things by forcing every god to agree,” said Aseneth softly. “One big contract they can’t break. I don’t know if even she could do that now.”

The hands clutched tighter.

“Look,” Tabby said. "Look at me.”

There was a shift, like Tabby was suddenly at the center of the universe, like the only thing that mattered was that girl.

“You don’t trust them,” Tabby said, soft. “I get that. I’m not asking you to trust them; they want that, they’re going to have to fucking earn it. I’m asking you to trust me.”

TRUST.

“Yeah. Trust, like I asked you to trust me when I said we should give Yang a chance. Trust, like I asked you to trust me when we first experimented with aetheric tethering.” She stroked the god’s hand, pressed a kiss to the ring there. “Can you do that?”

The god was silent for a long moment, and the world returned to its axis like a picture frame set delicately back upon a shelf. “I can do that,” the Keeper said, her voice soft.

Fuck, though Parker. Some of these gods really did love their people.

He wondered if Hastur had loved his eight more or less. He wondered how that loss affected him. “You really think there’d be a risk?”

“Maybe,” said Asenath.

Parker shifted. “So what if all eyes were elsewhere?”

They all looked at him.

“It is not an unwise choice of action,” the Keeper whispered.

Asenath handed Tabby a beer.

Tabby took it and drank half of it in one long gulp.

“If they were all distracted,” Parker said again, eyeing Asenath.

“If they were distracted,” the Keeper echoed. “Do you have a plan, Mister Yang?”

“Yeah. Let Arthur do a concert or something. Fucking everyone in the place would go watch.”

“I don’t… you know I don’t…”

“Yeah, you do,” said Parker. “And it’s fuckin’ mesmerizing.”

Arthur reddened. “But then I can’t be there to protect her.”

Yeah. Well. “No, but Hastur can hold attention, too. That guy could throw a party on the sun and still blind half the room. She can hide out in the temple with me and it’ll be fine.”

Tabby snorted. “Sounds like a girls’ night in lost Carcosa.”

“Dagon, too,” said Parker. “He owes us. He’ll help. Lots of people will be looking out for you.”

Tabby let out a soft laugh. “All right. Give us a minute, Parker. Please. It’s good for her; it’s helping her calm down.” She paused, then, running her fingers over the Keeper’s knuckles.

He just shrugged. “Mother at least having a good time watching all this?”

Asenath sighed. “Of all of them, the Mother is having even less fun than you two. Okay?”

“Are you worried?” said Arthur.

“Yes. Something died in her, or went to sleep, when everything happened. And it hasn’t come back.”

The Keeper was quiet for a long moment. “I should have talked to her,” she said, soft.

“Don’t blame yourself for that.” Tabby gave the Keeper’s hand a squeeze.

The god let out a rumble of discontent.

“I guess everyone’s going through the slog, huh?” Tabby said, giving the Keeper’s hand a tight squeeze. "I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. The Mother seemed really, really great, when I met her. You know?”

“Worth serving from a fucking distance for a thousand years,” said Asenath so mildly, like that hadn’t been a long and arid hell.

“I do trust the Mother,” the Keeper said. “I do not trust the other gods. But… I will. I want to help. I will help.”

“They don’t know you can’t leave?” said Parker.

“There are those whom I would have enacted vengeance on if I could; Y’golonac among them.” It seemed impossible, but the god sounded tired.

“You sure you could?” said Parker quietly and with some concern. “I mean, it’s better in here now, but books can get mold.”

The laugh echoed from everywhere like a passing train in four dimensions. “Oh, Parker. He tried already, you know. Revenge, when I refused to give him my volumes of the Revelations of Gla’aki. Stuffed one of my acolytes full of silverfish—bookworms—”

“Yeah. I know that spell,” he said distant, not looking at anything, and missed how Arthur’s fist clenched, how Arthur’s jaw set.

“His marked still remains on my shelf. Pristine. I have killed far more powerful than he, and I would do it again.”

Parker nodded. “Arthur does a concert, nobody will be watching your door.”

Tabby was giving him a look. It was a look of someone investigating a crime scene, of analysis, of someone seeing something that they found deeply interesting.

“If necessary, I could open a door directly into Hastur’s bedroom,” the Keeper sighed. “It would be rude to do so without permission, but… I could.”

“He’d keep her safe,” said Arthur, with absolutely no doubt.

“I think he’d try to, yeah,” said Parker.

"I will need to think.” The Keeper was quiet for a moment. “One of my acolytes was one of Dagon’s kin.”

Oh.

"Maybe this is a way to open up some communication, then,” Tabby said.

“No.”

“Now you’re just being obstinate,” Tabby muttered—and paused. “Is something burning?”

“Yes.” The god sighed. “I burnt the fucking tortillas again.”

“We can make more,” Tabby said, patting the god’s hand. “Maybe… Maybe you can think about all of this, and after dinner you can give an answer to everyone. Yeah?”

“For you.”

Tabby walked them through the assembly process. The Keeper had prepared a lot of food, including chicken and something called ‘birria,’ laden with spices and glistening with juices. Shredded cabbage lay to the side, flanked with diced onion and some sort of green leaves that Parker found to taste distinctly soapy (“Sucks to be you!” said Tabby, who heaped a bunch onto her tortillas-and-meat). There was crumbly white cheese, a mishmash of onion and chopped, fresh tomatoes, more lime to squeeze over top.

Asenath shared tales of her wild youth—including an adventure in Mexico via Japan through a bizarre set of circumstances including Portugal and pirates. “They didn’t know I wasn’t a man, and for that situation, I’m glad,” said Asenath. “I mean, I could’ve just fucking cursed them, but you don’t really want to leave a trail of fucked-up people in your wake, you know?”

“Cursed them?” said Parker.

“Yes.”

“But that was before the Reclamation. How did you have that power?” Parker said. “Until then, gods weren’t in this world.”

“I sought her,” said Asenath, which was apparently the only answer.

“Those wacky, wacky gods,” Tabby said with a snort. “Hey, are you older than Keeps?”

“Yep,” said Asenath. “You should have heard the gossip when your wife showed up. Nobody knew what was going on. Nobody seemed to have birthed her. Just boop, there she was. Fuck, I was jealous—I couldn’t see her. A new Outer God, and I was on Earth.”

“Before the Fire,” whispered Arthur.

“Yeah. Nobody knew that was coming.” Asenath’s tone went dark. “Would’ve done something. Killed a bitch, at least.”

“Happened everywhere,” said Parker. “Might have burned, even if you had.”

“Correct,” the Keeper said, voice sudden and startling. “Every timeline, all at the same instant. By the time any of us knew about it, it was too late.”

“Jesus fuck, we just got done being grim,” Tabby sighed, taking a swig of her beer. “This is the saddest fucking taco night I’ve ever attended.”

“But with hope,” said Asenath.

Arthur looked up sharply. “That’s what it is.”

She blinked at him. “What’s what is, now?”

“You never gave up hope.”

“Oops, found me out. My secret weapon,” said Asenath.

“I think I like that,” said Arthur.

Asenath was quiet for a moment, studying her plate. “Hope is still the most powerful magic I know. It’s why the Mother finally answered me. It’s why I could go so many centuries without seeing her, before and after the Fire of Y, and hold on to my faith and my responsibilities. But it does come at a hefty cost.”

“It isn’t anything, though,” said Parker. “Fuck,” he added, because that hadn’t come out right.

“Maybe I made it something,” Asenath said. “Like you made your rage into a weapon. Like Arthur did his Arthur thing.”

“Lestering,” muttered Parker.

Arthur startled. “Lestering? What the hell?”

Asenath started giggling. “Yep. Your own branch of magic. I don’t know anyone else who could doff an imaginary hat and charm a depressed god.”

Arthur scowled. “It’s just basic respect.”

“Do you have any idea how rare it is for a god of my caliber to be treated like a person?” the Keeper said, voice misty. “That ‘just respect’ meant everything to us.”

“Think that’s exactly it,” Tabby said. “Dude, it could have gone so bad for you. But you showed us that people still gave a shit, enough to risk their own hides for it.”

Parker eyed Arthur sidelong, thoughtful as he made one more taco.

Arthur sighed. “It’s not that weird.”

“Neither is my hope, then,” said Asenath.”

“Nope,” said Parker. “You’re both fuckin’ weird.”

Asenath laughed.

“All of us are fuckin’ weirdos,” Tabby said, grinning. “That’s why this is working. You gotta be a little fucked in the head to save the world.”

“We don’t know it’s gonna do that,” said Parker.

“But you’re willing to try,” said Arthur.

Parker shrugged. “It isn’t hope. You fight or you lie down. Fuck lying down.”

“Well, great news,” Tabby said, raising her beer. “If it doesn’t work, it very shortly won’t be your problem anymore.”

“You just chided me on being grim,” the Keeper sighed.

“I’m not being grim! I’m right!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” said the god, an arm unfolding from the floor to brush her fingers affectionately across Tabby’s cheek.

Tabby swatted the hand away. “You need some more limes, Parker? You seem to be bereft of ‘em over there.”

“I want a whole one,” he said. “For research.”

“Well, I want pie,” said Asenath.

“Did Hastur hurt any of your people?” Arthur said out of nowhere with his signature wild timing.

A hand unfolded, gently placing a bowlful of limes next to Parker’s plate. “Speaking of pie.” the Keeper murmured, and the floor lurched beneath them as the kitchen was pulled away, a wall rising like some organic thing between them. The hand retracted, and the Keeper sighed. “He did not, Arthur. I was angry with him for not interfering, in the beginning, but not for the last several hundred years. And I understand now that he lost his people, too, while preparing a home for all of his brethren. Perhaps we are not… completely at odds.”

The relief on Arthur’s face was almost painful. He looked down. “Good,” he murmured.

“Hastur is many things, but short-sighted is not among them.” The hands unfolded once again, placing several pastries at the end of the table; a warm apple pie, glistening red strawberry, a smooth and faintly green one with piped cream swirls, and a magnificently decorated chocolate cake. “Hastur is… I have never met him. But I have read his histories. I know what he has done in the past, Arthur. I know what he can do. And I know that he believes I am someone who can be bribed, which I do not appreciate.”

“We’re just man-hating lesbians,” Tabby said with a shrug, slicing a large portion of the presumably-key-lime pie onto plates. “Asenath, for you—Parker, for you. You want some, Arthur?”

“Yes, please,” said Arthur, still struggling with this, apparently.

“I have very, very good reasons not to trust the intentions of male gods,” the Keeper muttered darkly.

“Guess it adds up,” Parker muttered.

“What does?” said Asenath.

Parker shrugged, poking the pie with his fork, studying its texture. “The Defiler’s a god of rot and renewal, or supposed to be. Hastur’s fuckin’... art and madness, I guess?” And what the fuck Hastur saw in him was a whole other set of questions. “But what’s the flip side? What’s his ‘renewal?’”

“Release,” said Arthur.

Parker stared at him.

Arthur looked like he didn't know he’d spoken.

“Release,” said Parker.

“What?” said Arthur.

“He’s not wrong, though,” said Asenath. “It’s supposed to be complete emotional and mental freedom, what he does. Not that he’s always used it that way.”

Parker poked his pie. Frowned. “So.” He stopped.

Asenath glanced at Tabby. Tilted her head as if to say get a load of this guy.

“So,” said Parker and stopped again.

Arthur’s eyes were huge, fork in his mouth. “Parker, you gotta try this.”

Visibly distracted, scowling, Parker took a bite. He froze. His eyes went huge, too, and he raised the pie up to stare at it.

Tabby beamed, radiating pride. “My wife makes a mean key lime pie, huh?”

“Should I make another for them to take home?”

“That would be so nice of you,” Tabby said towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, I missed citrus,” Asenath moaned. “So what were you going to say?”

Parker stared at her for a moment like the taste of lime had driven all other knowledge from his head. “Uh. We all fucked up, is all I’m trying to say.”

“Huh?” said Arthur.

“Humans with the Fire of Y. The gods just picking and choosing which parts of their purpose to do. Sounds to me like if we’d been working together better, none of this shit would’ve happened.”

Asenath stared at him. “Huh.”

“Oh,” said Arthur, and resumed eating.

Tabby grinned at him. “Andddd there it is,” she said, gesturing to her fork. “Yang coming in again, pinning down the core of the issue.”

“Hastur had better appreciate what he has,” the Keeper said, warm.

Parker ignored that. “Humans are fuckin’ locked down. So are the gods. They hate that Contract system, but they accept it.”

“To some extent,” said Asenath. “As you’ve no doubt seen.”

“So part of reworking this thing means ensuring the gods’ll wanna do it the new way. ”

“Precisely, Mister Yang,” the Keeper said. Another hand emerged, setting down a bowl of that fluffy white whipped cream. “After Arthur left, Tabby and I had a long discussion.”

“Did you understand whatever the Mother did that let you hitchhike inside Tabby?” said Parker.

“Yes. I am a knowledge god, Parker; specifically the god of forgotten knowledge, of that which is lost. It is ironic, in a great many ways. But my purpose has been fulfilled in this past millenia or so.” The Keeper sighed, paused, and continued. “One of my chief duties is to remember, and to protect that which might be lost otherwise. All the ingredients in my kitchen were formed from Tabby’s memories, or reverse-engineered from them and whatever knowledge I could uncover. I have much, much more knowledge stored within these walls.”

“Stuff that would help people, sure,” Tabby said, solemn. “But also stuff that no one should ever know.”

“Including how the Mother helped channel away the aetheric power so it did not harm my wife.”

“It’s…” Tabby gestured, vaguely. “She sort of knew how to do it, but we didn’t have a way to actually channel all the extra power.”

Parker pointed his fork. “And you know how the Contract system works?”

“I have theories, based on what Tabby and I saw on our walk. I would need blueprints, more information; but even without, given some time and additional visits, yes.”

Parker looked at his plate. Glanced at the pie.

“What are you thinking?” said Arthur.

“Nothing. I… need time to find the words,” Parker muttered.

The Keeper’s hand extended and slid the pie over to Parker. “I rather enjoy your thought process, Parker. If you would like to speak through it, please do.”

“Not until I figure out how in fuck to say it,” he snapped.

“He thinks he’s bad at speaking,” said Arthur. “He’s not.”

“I am bad at speaking,” said Parker.

“And yet when you do speak, you have such interesting things to say,” the Keeper mused. “He told you that you were bad at speaking, didn’t he?”

What did that have to do with anything? “So what if he did?”

“I knew it.”

“Babe, I told you. We’re two peas in a pod, me and Yang.” Tabby snorted.

“How awful that such cruelty worked in our favor. I shudder to think of what you would have accomplished if he had listened to you.”

Parker was breathing through his nostrils. “He wasn’t wrong.”

Tabby gave him a look of mock horror. “You’re saying my wife is wrong? Them’s fightin’ words in the Scriptorium, buddy!”

“I’m going to have to open the Yanniek a few times,” the Keeper muttered. “I hate him so much.”

“You are in a spicy mood!” Tabby craned her head towards the ceiling.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here,” Parker said. “I don’t need fuckin’ convincing.”

“I am not trying to convince anyone. You have chosen your god, and I will respect that, even if I am jealous.”

He blinked several times. “That’s not what… I mean the smooth talk. The flattery. I don’t need it.”

“Tabby, kindly keep our guests amused; I need to throw a very small tantrum.”

Tabby choked on her beer.

Asneath patted her back.

Tabby coughed, wiping tears from her eyes. “Ah, fuck. Dude, she’s not flattering you. She likes you. I mean, if I wanted to get catty I’d accuse you of trying to insinuate she’s lying, which we both would find deeply offensive.”

A far off rumble sounded from the Scriptorium, accompanied by something that sounded like a crash.

Tabby burst into laughter.

“What the fuck?” said Parker.

Arthur laughed with her.

“She’s just being a baby,” Tabby said. “Can’t handle frustration too well yet. You gotta remember, Parks, in the grand scheme of things she’s technically younger than you.”

He stared at her. “I don’t…” Stopped. And decided this was not worth pursuing. “I’m saying to do what we talked about before, we’d need to change the Contract system. There’s got to be a way that we don’t sacrifice ourselves to do it. I get why it was set up that way. The Mother didn’t want us to take it for granted, or whatever. But there’s got to be a way to do that without… without…”

“Being poured out like holy wine,” Arthur murmured.

“Yeah. Not to mention this whole living-marked thing,” said Parker, which he would never be. “Can’t do that if everybody dies in order to get here.”

“I got here,” said Arthur.

“Yes, he broke my mirror. I mean, he did try, but he was too large, and it exploded. There are very few ways to bring humans here.”

“I couldn’t even tell you how I got to the Mother,” Tabby said with a shrug.

“Yeah. I didn’t ask you before. What was her name?” said Asenath.

“Huh? Oh, right. Fern,” Tabby said. “Question: when were y’all planning for this sleepover to happen?”

“Fern,” said Asenath, looking puzzled. “I’ll have to ask around. And, ah, well. If you’re willing, I want to talk to Hastur and Dagon, because I think Parker’s right—Arthur can draw attention, and Dagon could punch anything that decides to sneak away from the show. So. A couple days to set it all up?”

“I think that seems the best option,” the Keeper said, hands unfolding from the ceiling again.

Tabby smiled. “Feel better?”

“I do. If you are willing, Tabby… You have my consent.”

“I’m willing.” Tabby reached upward, blindly; one of the Keeper’s hands entwined with hers, and she brought it back down to her chest. "We got more to talk about. Parker had a thought, and I made a few connections off of it.”

“Oh, dear.”

“You’re not going to like it. But we’ve got time to discuss.” She paused. “It might end up being a staff meeting.”

The Keeper’s hand went very still.

“We have time.” Tabby patted the hand. “Trust me.”

The god let out a rumble that was distinctly unhappy.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” said Arthur. “Tacos are amazing. So was the pie.”

“Citrus,” Parker said. “That stuff’s incredible.”

Asenath sighed. “It really was until the shipping routes got all fucked.”

“I’ll send you home with some of those too,” said the Keeper.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Tabby said with a laugh.

Arthur stood. Started to put on a jacket that wasn’t there. Stopped. Looked at his hands. Visibly balanced for a moment right on the edge of sanity.

“Hey,” said Parker, standing close. “Come on. Gotta go. Say goodnight to the ladies.”

“Arthur,” the Keeper said, voice soft. “Are you really there?”

He nodded. “I don’t…” He closed his eyes. “I don’t like how it feels.”

“Remembering your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“I can imagine,” the god said, gentle. "Thank you for allowing yourself to remember.”

“Is it wrong? That it’s so much easier not remembering?” Arthur said in a small voice.

“Fuck,” whispered Parker.

“Not at all.” Her impossible hands reached, gently taking Arthur’s in her own. “I have grieved my people for more than eight hundred years. I still mourn them.” She sighed. "Tabby told me what you said, when you left. You were right, you know. And I wanted to thank you, for your kindness, if you would allow me.”

“What did I say?” Arthur said, eyes wide.

“That I need not feel guilt for being unable to prevent the Fires,” she said. “I still do. I don't know that I will ever shed that fully. I will always wish I had done something more. But even through your grief, you offered me comfort. That means a great deal to me.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Arthur said.

“Thank you, Arthur.” She squeezed his hands. “I hope the same realization for you; which is why I took great pains to recover this.” Another arm unfolded, holding a thin folder. “A great many humans have written about grief. One in particular stuck with me: ‘Grief is just love with nowhere to go.’ I hope this brings you memories of the good, and helps remind you what you are fighting for.”

Arthur took it. “What’s this?”

“When…” she paused, another pair of hands finding Tabby's. “A regret that I possess is I have no pictures of my acolytes. When I think of them, I struggle, sometimes, to remember them when they were whole and happy. When I recovered this photograph, I felt that you may like a memory of your wife and daughter, whole and perfect.” She let out a soft, gentle sigh. “You have a lovely smile, Arthur. I… I understand if you don't want it. If so, I will keep it safe if you ever wish to see it. But I hope that one day it might bring you peace.”

Arthur stared.

“The fuck is that?” Parker whispered. “When’d this happen?”

“Her father wanted…” Arthur stopped, staring.

The photo showed a family. Three people: Arthur, looking young, and a little mischievous, his smile crooked, his hair parted more neatly than it had ever been in any recent time. Next to him stood an equally naughty young woman; she had dark hair, laughing eyes, and had apparently been photographed in the middle of cracking up over something.

In Arthur’s arms was a baby.

Tiny. Big-eyed. Little fists clenched, she wore a dress that seemed to have swallowed her, and she was laughing at her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a year and a half old.

“Fuck,” said Parker again. “I don’t know nothing about this.”

“Her father…” Arthur sounded a thousand miles away. “He just wanted to be sure she was okay. He didn’t like her life; always worried. So we posed. So he’d think it was… she was… safe.”

“He doesn’t live in Cloud City,” said Parker. “Did he even get this?”

“We sent it by one of the couriers,” Arthur whispered. “Was supposed to get there within five years.”

Parker turned his glare on the Keeper. “How the fuck did you get this?”

“I have my ways.” Her voice was gentle. “Arthur, you had a copy of your own. The frame was ruined; I needed to remove it from the frame to restore it, but I can replace that, if you like.”

“You got this from Cloud City?” said Parker, louder. “How?”

Arthur was silent. Tears slid down his cheeks. He stared at the photo.

“I have my ways.”

Parker gave her a hard look, but dropped it. “You good?”

“I…” Arthur stopped.

“You wanna keep it?”

“Yes.”

“Probably should thank her,” Parker muttered because he knew damn well gods got fucky if they suspected ingratitude.

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered. “I don’t have a response yet.”

“You don’t need to, Arthur. I felt it was…” She paused, like taking a breath; liquid dripped somewhere, around some hidden corner. “You looked happy.”

Arthur’s smile was so tiny, so raw. “I’d made her laugh. It was a dirty joke. I thought the photographer was going to hit me.”

Parker studied him.

Asenath did, too, chin in her hands. “Never met her. Wish I had.”

“You’d have liked her. Everybody liked her,” said Arthur. “They wouldn’t have shot her if they’d talked to her first. But they never even saw her.”

“The Salty Siren case. That was a bad one,” said Parker. And almost inaudibly, added, “First time I laid eyes on you.”

“She looks like someone who was easy to love. Perhaps, one day, you will tell me about her?”

Arthur took a slow breath. “On this one—just this one—we can relate. I didn’t kill her. But me not figuring it out quickly enough is why she died.”

Parker sighed. “You’d just have got shot up, too, if you had.”

Arthur looked at him. It was a quick, violent expression, as if he was going to punch next.

Parker looked back, unintimidated.

“One day, then. Today, Hastur is waiting for your return.” A group of arms emerged, carrying a pair of parchment-wrapped boxes and a bag of citrus fruits in yellows and oranges and greens.

Tabby frowned. “Okay, one’s key lime, but the other?”

“Lemon.”

Tabby blinked, pulling one of the hands entwined with hers to her lips. “For him, huh?” she said, eyes wet with sudden tears. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I… I think I should try.”

Parker stared.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Arthur saluted with his nonexistent hat.

Parker snatched the photo. Arthur didn’t seem to notice.

“Parker?” The Keeper hesitated. “You are not beholden to me. I apologize for asking. But I am sure that you can help Hastur understand the significance of my gift, and that it means him no harm.” She took a breath. “Please.”

“He’ll know,” Parker said. “But I’ll make sure he double-knows.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay,” Tabby said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Get the fuck out of my house, all of you. I hate it here. You made me have an emotion, and I’m mad about it.”

Parker looked spooked.

“She’s sarcastic,” Asenath murmured. “Chill.”

“Next time, we’ll provide the food,” said Arthur.

“I would like that.”

“C’mon, bestie,” Tabby said, patting Parker on the back as she pulled ahead.

“I’m nobody’s best anything,” Parker said.

“Ppppbttt,” Tabby said. “Too late. I called dibs, and you’re my best friend now. Hey. When I sleep over, can I paint your nails?”

He really looked confused now. “Sure?”

“YES!” Tabby pumped her fist into the air. “That might actually distract me from how bad I’ll miss my wife. Knew I could count on you, bestie.”

Parker eyed her as if she’d produced a second head.

Arthur was smiling. “Hastur has to be going nuts. He doesn’t like being left out, you know? Real busybody. I think he’d have gone the PI route even if we hadn’t met.”

Parker rubbed his face. “Sure.”

“It probably hasn’t been that long. Just enough to make him squirm.” Tabby seemed to find her ideal spot and pulled out her doorknob, twisting it and opening the door once again in one fluid motion. “Take it easy, everyone. See you tomorrow, maybe.”

Hastur was at the door so fast that the breeze from his approach blasted their hair back.

“Fuck!” said Parker.

Tabby bristled. “Be careful, you dickhead! There’s pies in those boxes!”

Hastur didn’t dare reach through the door. He froze, at least a dozen limbs poised to grab. “A gift for your master,” he said, and thrust out the gift, the necklace-like chain.

Sound rose faintly from it, like voices.

Tabby took a deep, steadying breath. “Not my master,” she said, taut as a bowstring, pulling up her left hand. “She’s my wife.”

Hastur missed not a beat. “My apologies, oh chosen of a greater god, most beloved of the mystery herself. A gift for your wife.”

“Easy,” said Arthur, stepping through, and was immediately snatched up.

The chain waited, gleaming, in reach.

Parker looked at Tabby. “Pretend the pies are hostages in trade for whatever that is, and it’ll go easier.”

“Was that so hard?” said Arthur in response to whatever he thought he heard.

Tabby took another breath—and let it out, soft. “I’ve gotta try too,” she muttered. “The one on the bottom is a lemon pie. Top is key lime. Your partners liked it.” She held out the box, just past the threshold. “She figured you’d like lemon, since… Well. Yellow.”

A thousand golden eyes blinked at her from behind the mask. “A gift for me?”

“Look. You’re going to be working together. She’s not ready to talk to you yet, but… Gift, peace offering, whatever.” And Tabby took another breath, and stepped over the threshold.

Hastur drew back for a moment, then offered the chain again. “A rare gift,” he said, “which perhaps she has already, but I know of no other recordings. Each link is a song of a lost people. Few remember them. I do.”

“Generous,” Tabby said solemnly. “Freely given?”

“Yes.” Hastur plucked up the pies, then plucked up Parker.

“Then on her behalf, I accept,” Tabby said, holding out her hand. “Thank you.”

He draped the chain (so thin, but surprisingly heavy) on her arm. It was longer than she was tall, folded over many times.

“We are free to leave?” He said.

“I told you; she’s not ready to talk to you yet.” The girl shrugged, stepping back to the door; Asenath slipped out and Tabby gave her a warm, fond smile. “Bye, Asenath. Everyone rest up, big week coming up and all that.”

Asenath saluted. “Everybody rest. Night, kiddos.”

Her last words were quiet because Hastur was flying away.

Parker watched, but the pies seemed safe, one box per tentacle. “You okay?”

“You were gone forever,” Hastur informed them.

Parker looked at the photo. “She made him a present. You’d better do right by this.” He held it up.

Hastur plucked it away and studied it. “I know this photograph.”

“Yeah, he had a copy,” Parker said.

“Hey,” said Arthur. “When’s the next performance? I don’t remember.”

A beat. “Performance?” said Hastur.

“Let’s talk at home,” said Parker.

Hastur took the cue and flew them home, and the doors clanged shut behind them.

#malevolent fic #malevolent au #hastur/arthur/parker #tw:explicit #malevolent fanfiction #arthur lester #cloud city #yellow city

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yesyourstalker · 8 months

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Neta: ikkan.... ikkan... Babe. .. wake up we've landed

Noiji: WAKE UP... WE'RE HOME !!

Neta: (wheeze) noiji That's not funny heheh

Ikkan: *gasp* Damn it noiji!

Noiji: Wake up sleepy head. We're hoooom we're in haddaido

Ikkan: * stretch* mmmmm....uh

Neta: here's your bag babe... you sleep well?

Ikkan: yeah..... No not really...*yawn* let's go... our parents should be waiting for us in the airport.. We usually just sit down at the center clock. We usually meet up there

Neta: alright sounds good.....hey ikkan... they're ok with me being an octarian

Ikkan: they don't care about that babe... they've seen pictures they just want to know you. My mom especially...... you would like her.

Noiji: well I don't know about you. I'm going to eggmens fried rice shop.... can't believe it's not a global franchise yet Inkopolis just can't make a good bowl of rice like they can

Ikkan: no your not! we're going to her parents house! You can wait until then!

Noiji: but I want my coconut squid fried rice!!

Ikkan: why couldn't you just eat a meal on the plane if you're hungry?

Noiji: It wasn't hungry then. I'm hungry now! Also, I can't eat on a plane. It makes nauseous!

Ikkan: You didn't feel that way when you were scarfing down our bags of pretzels!

Noiji: That's different I-

Koi-koi (their mom): I hope those aren't my kids arguing in the middle of the airport!! That's certainly not how I raised them!

Noiji: mama!!

Ikkan: heh....hey mom...... hey dad

Noiji:hi pa!!

Merv (dad): hmm boys... Good to see you.

Koi-koi:... Ohhh look my little guppies... [Kiss] [kiss] ah... noiji... Look at you! You look more and more like your dad every day..........hm.... Can you see out that eye sweetie?

Noiji: nope..... can't see a thing.. I'm thinking of getting it removed and replacing it with a glass eye I found a guy who knows how to customize them. I'm going to see if he can make one out of a rock I found at the beach once

Koi-koi: ................................. You're very creative jiji...... maybe make one with a different eye color instead

Merv: I know a nice rock polisher who could do it for free..

Koi-koi: don't give him ideas...... ikkan...... ah your beard is getting fuller.... a little mustache... you're growing out your tentacles out too huh

Ikkan: yeah... I'm trying something new... I also forgot to shave last night

Merv: look nice......... might need to even it out a little

Koi-koi: well...... Maybe a little trim wouldn't hurt I don't want you to like a hermit, can't see that handsome face..(pat pat).... Mmm.. (pat pat pat).....mm.. Did you get the surgery?

Ikkan: mom!!.

Ko-koi: I'm just wondering. You can tell me, I'm your mother.......It just looks a little bit flatter here.. last time I saw you..(pat pat)...

Ikkan: mom. Please. Stop. We're in public.

Koi-koi:... maybe you just lost weight...... You look little underweight honey. Are you eating well?

Ikkan:im- ugh- Yes, I'm eating fine.........and yes I got top surgery

Koi-koi: That's great! You could've just said that. I've seen every bit and piece of you sweetie and I made you. okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about this.

Merv: let him have his privacy koi.

Koi-koi: I understand that Merv. I'm just asking a simple question- Oh!.... hahahaha.. I am so sorry!... you startled me a little bit!....... you must be Neta...you must be my son's boyfriend ...hehehe.... ikkan where did you find this cute boy...... Nice to meet you sweetheart. I'm sorry I'm just rambling on not even paying attention to you. How are you doing?

Neta: I'm doing great..uhhhhh

Koi-koi: I'm Koi-koi but you can call me koi ....this is my husband Merv. You two would get along I can just tell.

Neta: hello sir

Merv: ay just call me Merv son. No need for formalities. Never like being called sir

Neta: yeah, I don't like it either. It's good to meet you.

Koi-koi:.. welp! Let's be on our way. My husband's been going on and on about going to eggman's for dinner.... ugh.... I swear it's like he lives there

Merv: they make a good calamari stir fry

Noiji: yeah they do!

Koi-koi: soooo Neta.... ikkan told me you own a store in the mall. That's very impressive.

Neta: yeah. It's my pride and joy. I'm actually opening up another store in another mall is going to be a lot bigger than the one that I have now. It's going to be a big project next 3 years

Koi-koi: Oh that's great! good to see young people moving up in the world. I remember being young and ambitious... when I was your age I got hired onto a game company. It started out as a card game company we soon branched out to board games....*sigh*.. I used to be the CEO ....... Then I met Merv........ I left, moved to Krillarney, had kids and lived on a farm for 13 years. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was.......*inhale...exhale*........... pure bliss

Neta: what made you come back here?

Koi-koi: The company was going under HA..... They called me back for help hahahahah.. I told him yes but I didn't want to be a CEO anymore. I'm just working on advertising and marketing..... They're branching out to video games... mostly arcade games. They're trying to put jump squid on a home console.....Ridiculous

(After meal)

Koi-koi: and we're home....

Neta: wow..... This place. Is really nice.

Merv: yep, nice penthouse..... Between you and me this is nothing but glorified condo.... heheh.... But what do I know I don't pay the mortgage. I'm just the maid.

Koi-koi: downstairs is the guest bedroom. This is our living room...our TV.. it's...its

Merv: 85in

Koi-koi: 85 in...yes...I just put in a little conversation pit that really ties the room together....the kitchen is open at any time of the day so if you want to eat something at night feel free...... The pool's downstairs. Next to the lobby entry, it's 24 hours. Though I do suggest you go around 2:00 and 6:00 That's when they re-salt the pool. If something does happen don't worry they have a respawn point. Noiji bedroom is up in the loft .... ikkan sweetie we converted your room into a little hobby space for your father.... that man and his doll houses....

Merv: they're called dioramas honey

Koi-koi: sure......We put all your stuff in the downstairs bedroom. Don't worry you put everything back in this place. We didn't ruin anything

Ikkan: The room with the platform...nice

Neta: your parents are Nice.

Ikkan: thanks

Neta:.. When we were going to tell me you were..... Wealthy

Ikkan:.... I don't know. I mean we didn't always live like this. We used to live in a small house in a small little village raising krill and then we moved here.... By the time we got to this place I was planning on moving out. I guess I didn't think about it. I'm sorry

Neta: oh ok babe it's fine [kiss].............heeey. you wanna-

Ikkan: No not at my parents house... [Kiss] Good night

Neta: aw....... night

(next morning)

Neta: morning koi

Koi-koi: morning sweetheart Good to see someone else waking up at 6:00 a.m.

Neta: yeah, I'm used to it... coffee?

Koi-koi: Yes, please

Neta: I was looking around your house. A lot of family pictures and a lot of artwork too...

Koi-koi: Yes I usually get them at auction mostly d'Alfonsino's

Neta: It's very nice.....*sip*

Koi-koi:................................I used to be in the military

Neta:....................

Koi-koi: except I was on the opposite side of course......... I was a medic during that time I used respawn people, help them with ink replenishment....... injuries............... deaths

Neta:...............mm

Koi-koi: I used to carry around an inzap just in case something happened to me... usually they would target the medics first so......[revealing octoling skull tattoo similar to Neta's inkling one

Neta:.......................

Koi-koi: Inkling soldiers weren't really talked about most of the time because we're where the poor kids. Call Street squids cuz most of us didn't go to school or couldn't go to school... after joining. Some who joined were just stupid and naive. Treating it like it was some sort of game like it was turf war and not actual war....*sip* sometimes I feel like I'm still back there.... what a load of shit

Neta: hehehe I feel that...... I'm guessing you went back to work to keep yourself busy

Koi-koi: *sigh*..........yep.....

Neta: ......................does it get easier the older you get dealing with it?

Koi-koi: Yes it does. It gets easier. There's going to be sometimes where it's not......but the older you get the more experiences you gain. It gets easier going on..........

Neta:.......mm good........*sip*

Koi-koi:. If you need anything, anything at all sweetie just call me.

Neta: You said you worked at the game company that did jump squid right? Tenatron?

Koi-koi: yeah

Neta: do you think it's possible

(Epilogue)

Delivery man: hey this is.........rock shock? Is this the right place right?

Mahi: Yes, how can I help you?

Delivery man: I got a delivery here from Tenatron. I just need someone to sign.

Mahi: uh... uh.. ok.... The owner isn't here right now. He's going to be gone for a week or so.

Delivery man: thank you yeah he already paid for the setup and everything. It'll just be an hour

(hour later)

Delivery man: All right, you're all set. Enjoy your game console...... Promotional signs and advertisements are all in this box.

Mahi: 'jump squid three. octo invasion!' how the hell did he get this!? I thought this game wasn't even out yet!

{text}

Neta: mahi delivery just got sent to my store Just sign the paperwork and they'll do the rest.

Mahi: already did

Neta: They also bought some advertisement signs. Hang up in the front of the store once they're done

Mahi: ok

Neta: also tell Warabi that koi said hi sweetie pie

Mahi: ?????

Neta: Just do it

{End of text }

Mahi was caught having a fighting fight with @fish-at-fish-fish-resort

#yay ikkan's parents yay #they live in a two bedroom three bath #3 bed if you count the loft which technically isn't his room. it's more of like the family game room but he put his bed up there #because he didn't want to share room with ikkan anymore #noiji is blind in one eye due to an autoimmune issue #he recovered but his eyes wasn't the same after #they go to eggmens which is based off his restaurant called a lot of rice It's kind of like a noodle shop but instead of noodles it's rice.#trans ikkan supremacy #Koi-koi i wanted to be an opposite of Warabi's mom #same with Merv #i had more to say but I'm very sleepy so I was going to leave it here. maybe add some more later #probably not #I'll put it in the chat later

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starshiningsirius · 3 years

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Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #floyd leech

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

Text

Belonging

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 4606

Content warnings - lots of angst, insecure MC, Mammon is an ass at first ‘cause he’s a tsundere

Prompt/inspiration - self indulgent comfort piece

Summary - That one time when Mammon’s tsundere tendencies broke your heart.

AO3

You had been so stupid. So foolish. So naive.

When you first met Mammon, he took your breath away. You had never seen someone just so...beautiful. It was an honest to goodness love at first sight moment, something that you didn’t even believe possible until then. Yeah he seemed a little harsh, but you convinced yourself it was just because he was shy and easily embarrassed. As soon as he got to know you better, you were sure he’d calm down a bit and open up to you.

It was slow going though. Just when you had started thinking you had finally managed to become friends with him, something would happen that would send you back to square one again. For every step forward you took, you would inevitably take 3 steps back.

But after a while, things did eventually seem to be going your way. He’d come over for movie nights. You were allowed to hang out in his room. He no longer stuttered out excuses when he would walk you to and from RAD. You had started to feel comfortable. Like maybe everything in your shitty life up until now might have actually been worth it because finally, FINALLY you had someone who genuinely enjoyed being around you.

Until today, that is, when you were not-so-gently reminded of your place.

The night began like any other Friday evening - a movie night with Mammon, Beel, and Levi. Everyone had gathered in Mammon’s room, snacks were plentiful, and you were getting to sit next to Mammon. As the movie progressed, you casually adjusted your position so that you could hold his hand. But as soon as your palm touched his and he realized what you were doing, he pulled back and yelled at you.

“What the hell are ya doing?!”

If it wasn’t for the look on his face, you would have sworn he was embarrassed. Instead, there was no doubt in your mind just how disgusted he was at the idea of you touching him. You didn’t notice when the movie was paused. Or when the lights were turned on. All you could see were his eyes boring into yours. Looking like he wanted to vomit on the spot at the very idea of having ever been close to you.

“Umm...I...just…” you stumbled over your words, unsure what to say. What could you even say? He knew you had tried to hold his hand. And that’s all there was to it. You made a move, the wrong one, and he rejected you.

“Sorry...I’ll umm...just go…” was all you managed to finally get out, as you made a mad dash to your room. Your cheeks were burning with shame, and tears pricking at your eyes.

How could you have been so arrogant? Thinking someone could actually be interested in a person like you. This wasn’t your home. These weren’t your friends. They weren’t your family. You didn’t belong here. You didn’t belong anywhere. You had let yourself get comfortable, indulging your delusions and fantasies and ignoring all the many warning signs that you weren’t actually wanted here.

Even though Mammon was your official Guardian, the rest of the brothers still did their part to make sure you survived your year in one piece. And you had mistaken this courtesy as actual kindness. If anyone had been nice to you, it was out of obligation or pity. You were so desperate to believe you had finally found a place of your own that you let yourself be tricked into thinking demons would actually care about you.

You should have known better. It’s not like you hadn’t had this experience before. People who tolerated you and then at the first available opportunity cut you from their lives. You knew there was something wrong with you, there had to be, for as many times as this had happened. But since no one stuck around very long at all, you honestly had no idea what that might be. If someone would have just told you, you would have fixed it.

By the time you had made it to the safety of your room, your tears had already started to fall in large, heavy drops. You didn’t make a sound. You were too numb to even sob. You just laid down on your bed, facing the wall, and cried. If you could even call it crying. It was more like tears just poured from your eyes. You didn’t even know it was possible to cry that many tears, yet here you were - soaking your pillow, unable to stop the flow.

At some point, you had managed to get your breathing under control. And then, even your tears dried up. You turned to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out where you should go from here. You still had to make it through the rest of the year, and you had to find some way of doing that peacefully. Maybe if you talked to Lucifer he would assign you a different Guardian? You didn’t really want a different Guardian though, but you doubted you would be able to emotionally handle spending any more time with Mammon. Especially since every time you closed your eyes you could still see that look on his face.

After weighing your options you decided the only thing for you to do really was to put on a happy face. You’d be polite to anyone that talked to you, but you were going to be smart this time. You were going to keep your distance. Not just from Mammon, but from everyone else too.

There was no point in giving yourself the chance to believe you actually could make any friends here. Doubtless it would end up the same way. So you were going to do the minimum - go to RAD, come back to your room, and stay in your room until it was time to leave for RAD again, only leaving with the exception of meal times. No more movie nights, or gaming tournaments, or shopping trips, or restaurant tours. You were just going to keep to yourself and...survive.

————

Breakfast the following morning was oddly quiet. Beel, Mammon, and Levi kept exchanging looks, but you pretended you didn’t notice and just focused on your meal. You had found a comfortable sense of numbness since the previous night, and had now more or less come to terms with the fact you weren’t wanted here and had gotten carried away.

Lucifer had needed to head out a bit earlier to attend a before school meeting with Lord Diavolo, so you asked if you could walk with him instead. He raised an eyebrow at your unexpected request, but thankfully didn’t ask any additional questions. Of all the brothers he was actually the one you were most comfortable with at the moment. Probably because you never had any doubts about the fact he wasn’t overly fond of you.

When classes had ended for the day, you realized that you would need to walk home with Mammon. But after a full day of perfecting your “nice” smile, and mastering how to behave “politely” without taking things personally, you felt better prepared to handle it than you had that morning. Mammon seemed nervous, blushing and fidgeting most of the way. Any other day, you would have asked him what was wrong, but now you were committed to keeping your distance so you ignored him.

Once you arrived back at the House of Lamentation, however, he finally started talking to you before you had a chance to hide away in your room again.

“Uhh...about last night...I…”

“It’s fine, Mammon,” you said, smiling your best, bright smile, “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“That’s...I was jus’ surprised is all…”

“Then I’m sorry for surprising you.”

“So umm...do you wanna...try again...maybe…?”

For the briefest moment, your smile faltered. You were quick to correct it, but of course Mammon noticed that split second of hesitation before you answered.

“No thank you. It was nice of you to offer though. But I don’t think I’ll be going to movie night anymore, so you really don’t have to worry about me.”

“Huh? That’s not what I was...this wasn’t about the movie…!”

You gave Mammon another perfect, reassuring smile before leaving him in the entryway, flustered beyond belief at what just happened. He could understand that you might not have known what he was asking right away, but to say you didn’t want to go to movie night at all? That seemed like a bit of an overreaction. Not to mention the fact that the entire conversation just seemed...weird. You were smiling too much for one thing, and he really didn’t like it. He enjoyed making you smile, but this just wasn’t right.

And he couldn’t just let that go.

No sooner had you sat down at the table in your room to begin on your assignments, than the door was flung open as Mammon barged in. You stared at him, stunned, unable to grasp why he had followed you to your room. When he saw you looking at him, he once again got flustered, but was quick to recover this time - he was on a mission.

“Look I know I yelled at ya and all, but that ain’t a reason to skip movie night. Who's gonna feed Beel? Or make sure Levi doesn’t put on those weird anime movies with the tentacles and shit?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. You had to have worked things out somehow before I arrived. You don’t need to try to include me,” you replied, turning your back to Mammon so you could focus on your work.

“Movie night was your idea! Ya can’t just quit!”

“I said it’s fine,” you could feel your frustration building in your chest. You had wanted to do this peacefully, but Mammon was so stubborn, more stubborn than you had anticipated given his reaction to you yesterday.

“It ain’t fine!”

“Leave it alone, Mammon,” you snapped, stopping what you were doing as you tried to calm yourself down again. You weren’t going to let him get to you. He’d wear himself out and lose interest eventually. You just needed to be patient until he realized he didn’t have to entertain you anymore.

“How can I leave it alone? I’ve said worse stuff to ya before and you haven’t acted like this.”

“I know when I’m not wanted. It’s fine.”

You weren’t about to open up and confide in him all your worries and fears. Even if he was asking out of politeness, you knew he wouldn’t really want to hear about that stuff anyways. He barely tolerated your physical presence, there wasn’t any way he’d want to be burdened with your emotional baggage too.

Mammon was silent for a while after that. He didn’t know what to say, or how to explain. He knew he had fucked up. Badly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you next to him. He did. More than he’d care to admit. Which was actually part of the problem. He didn’t want to admit he cared. Because admitting he cared would mean you could reject him. If you weren’t aware of his feelings, then you would just be stuck with him, and that was good enough for him. It had to be.

At least it had been up until now. Now, Mammon feared if he didn’t say something, anything, he’d lose any chance at ever talking to you again.

“...I wanted ya there…” he finally whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah I do!” he said, much louder than he had spoken before. Couldn’t you tell he was trying to say that he liked you? That he enjoyed your company? Did you really have to argue with him about it?

“...whatever,” you said with a sigh as you began to open your school books.

“Hey! Listen to me will ya!? I’m trying to say I like you!”

You flinched at Mammon’s sudden declaration.

“And you expect me to believe that?” you replied, your tone laced with venom. You knew what was coming next - his inevitable backpedaling that he always did. Where he made excuses and belittled you and made sure to crush any hope you may have had that he actually liked you in any capacity because the idea of anyone thinking he actually had a soft spot for you was apparently absolutely appalling.

“Why wouldn’t you?! You should feel honored and…!”

“Why wouldn’t I?? Seriously?? You’re asking me that?”

You turned in your seat to glare at Mammon, angry tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Did he seriously think so little of you that he just expected you to believe whatever you told him?

“I dunno Mammon, maybe it’s because ever since I got here you made a point to remind me what a burden I am and how much trouble I cause. Maybe it’s because you constantly dump me on your brothers to avoid your responsibilities. Maybe it’s because every time I try to be nice to you, you push me away and make me feel stupid for even trying. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the dumb human, right?”

By now your tears had started to fall, but you couldn’t even be bothered to dry them. You finally had the chance to get everything off your chest that had been building since you were dragged down to the Devildom and you didn’t feel like stopping anytime soon. Your rational thoughts had long since flown, and all that was left was your extremely hurt, angry, emotional self that was bound and determined to make sure Mammon knew just how much pain he had caused you.

Mammon, for his part, was completely dumbfounded. Personally, he thought he had been doing alright trying to get to know you. He wasn’t used to people actually being nice to him for one thing, so he was always so suspicious whenever you were.

But what he hadn’t realized though, was how genuine all your advances had been, and how much he had hurt you in trying to protect himself.

“I-I-I…”

“I’m not the sort of person anyone likes. I know that. So whatever joke it is you’re trying to pull, just stop it already!”

“I ain’t messin’ around!”

“What are you not understanding here??” you yelled, slamming your hands down on your desk as you stood up to face Mammon, “I don’t connect with people. I’m never the one that gets picked. So just stop it ok?! I don’t know what Lucifer threatened you with…”

“He didn’t threaten me with anything!”

“Oh please, like you actually want to spend any time with me.”

“Of course I do! That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya!”

“...you don’t mean that. No one ever means that.” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself tightly, averting your gaze. Your anger had started to fade and all that was left was an overwhelming sense of sadness.

“Why do ya keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true. It’s just what happens. Whatever it is that lets people make friends, I don’t have it. I always think I do, but it never works out. So why would this time be any different? I just...I can’t do this again.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I love you!” you shouted, having finally reached the end of your patience with Mammon’s endless questions. This wasn’t how you had wanted to tell him. But you didn’t know what else to say at this point because nothing else seemed to be getting through to him.

Cautiously, Mammon took a step forward. Then another. Until he was standing right in front of you. You kept your eyes trained on the ground, refusing to look up. You didn’t want to see the look on his face. Not after you had just confessed to him. It had been bad enough when he yelled at you for holding his hand, and you were sure seeing him now would kill you.

But, Mammon didn’t force the issue. Instead, he slowly reached out for your hands, carefully twining your fingers together as he lowered his head to rest it against yours.

“...do ya mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you mumbled, “But it doesn’t matter. It never matters. I’m not good at this stuff.” You rubbed your fingers over Mammon’s hands, playing with his rings as you tried to distract yourself from the conversation you were having. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were so nervous you couldn’t stand it. It almost didn’t seem real to you, to have him standing so close to you, willingly touching you. Perhaps that’s why you weren’t shying away from being honest about your feelings and why you were letting yourself touch him like you were. If it was all only a dream, it didn’t matter anyways.

“It matters to me...I like ya too. A whole lot. And...I’m sorry for makin’ ya feel anything different. It’s just…” Mammon hesitated. This was the most honest he had been with another being in centuries, and his instincts to pull away and run were still strong. But you had been honest with him, and after all the hurt he caused you, it was probably the absolute least he could do.

“It’s just...I know how it feels. Ta not be wanted. And I uh...didn’t trust ya at first. I thought...you would be like my brothers and were just mocking me…”

That last sentence made your heart ache and you lifted your head slowly to look at Mammon. His eyes were closed now, but you could see the tears gathering at the corners and the dampness of his lashes. It was clear to you then that these were his true feelings, and not something he was sharing easily. Without a word, you released his hands, slipping your arms around his waist to pull him into a hug. He flinched at the sudden contact, but didn’t waste any time returning the gesture, wrapping his arms around you and hiding his face in your shoulder.

“I’d never do that,” you replied.

“Well yeah, I know that now.”

“I think you’re amazing, you know? I always have fun with you. And I like spending time with you. When you’re not acting like I’m the plague,” you teased, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of Mammon’s face and the faintest hint of a smile that tugged at his lips.

“S’rry. I think yer pretty amazing too. You put up with me an’ my brothers for starters.”

You laughed softly at his reply, feeling his arms tighten around you as he hugged you closer.

“Do you umm...wanna watch a movie…?” Mammon asked, hopeful that you’d take him up on the offer so he’d have a good reason for staying with you a little longer.

“Yeah, we can do that. I didn’t get to finish the movie from the other night.”

You pulled away from Mammon to grab your laptop from beside your bed, before climbing into it and making yourself comfortable. When you looked up, Mammon was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor, blushing furiously.

“Oh. Do you not want to sit here? Sorry! We can…” you started to ramble, terrified you had made him uncomfortable again and already messed up everything that you had just seemed to fix.

“No! It’s uh...not that...umm…” Mammon said, moving to sit on the edge of your bed, “Do you umm...wanna try...ya know...holding hands…?”

You blinked a few times as you processed Mammon’s request, staring at his outstretched hand that he was offering to you. Was this what he had been trying to ask you about after school…?

“I mean! It’s fine if ya don’t want to!”

“Wait!” you grabbed his hand quickly, before he had the opportunity to pull it back, “I’d like that. A lot,” you said, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Can I ask you something?” Mammon nodded as he scooted back onto the bed so that he could sit next to you, “Is this umm, what you were trying to ask me about earlier? When we first got back?”

“Yeah,” now sitting comfortably beside you, he adjusted his grip on your hand, lacing your fingers together and allowing you to snuggle up next to him and rest your head on his shoulder. He was nervous at having you so close, but at the same time, he didn’t think he had ever felt more relaxed. There was a certain comfort in knowing that you felt the same way towards him and weren’t going to chase him off for wanting to be near you. He still had a long way to go in the “open and honest” department, but at least with you he didn’t have to hide his feelings any longer.

As the movie played, Mammon found himself struggling to concentrate. You had said a lot of things earlier when you had been so upset that he hadn’t been sure what you meant, or how he was supposed to respond. One thought in particular kept echoing in his mind that he really felt like he needed to address - that you didn’t feel wanted.

“Hey, do you umm, think we could talk?” he finally asked. You paused the movie and closed your laptop, nervous to hear what he had to say.

“Sure,” you replied meekly and Mammon gave your hand what he hoped would be a reassuring squeeze.

“I guess I just want to make sure you know that I want ya around. I know I can be a bit of an idiot at times and don’t always think things through...but that’s how I feel. And I know my brothers feel the same too.”

“Thank you. For telling me.” You could feel your throat tightening and you knew you were probably close to tears again, as if you hadn’t already cried enough today.

“And I’m gonna prove it to ya, you know? The Great Mammon’s gonna show ya just how special you are.”

A small smile spread across your face as you snuggled closer to Mammon. He nudged you gently with his elbow, which only made your smile broaden, and you nudged him in return, causing him to laugh. It didn’t take long for a full on tickle fight to erupt, which only stopped when Mammon had managed to successfully pin you to the mattress. Realizing the position he was in made Mammon’s face flush, but he didn’t move, and you simply looped your arms around his neck holding him in place with a hug. He carefully lowered his body so he could wrap you up in a hug of his own, as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

You had been so certain earlier that you’d never get a chance to have a moment like this with him. And part of you feared if you were to let him go, he’d leave for good. But no matter how tightly you held him, Mammon held you just as tight. He too had been waiting for this for a long time and wasn’t about to let you go any sooner than necessary.

—————

The following morning, Mammon was already gone by the time you woke up. The realization stung, but you tried to focus on the positives and pushed those thoughts aside, determined not to let yourself jump to the worst case scenario before you had even eaten your breakfast. You quickly got yourself ready, and made your way downstairs, taking your usual seat at the table. Mammon had yet to make an appearance, so you focused on your food, anxiously waiting for him to join you.

When you heard the dining room doors open, you quickly snapped your head up, smiling as Mammon made his way into the room. He locked eyes with you, grinning, but as soon as he noticed that his brothers were also watching him, he averted his gaze and your heart shattered.

Of course, you thought, how could you have forgotten? Just because he admitted to liking you in private didn’t actually mean he would treat you any differently. The thought made your stomach churn, and you had to fight the urge to dash from the room, choosing instead to return your attention to the food on your plate. This was going to be so much worse now that you knew he was aware of your feelings, you thought, blinking back tears.

Shit.

Mammon had reflexively looked away from you for the briefest of moments when he had become aware of his brothers staring. But almost immediately he had stopped himself and looked back at you to offer you a smile. It hadn’t been quick enough though, and he only caught sight of your face as it fell and you attempted to hide your disappointment. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you. Especially not so soon after the two of you had finally opened up to each other.

And now what was he supposed to do?

Well, there really was only one thing he could think of - Make ‘em jealous.

Taking a deep breath, Mammon walked to his seat, nudging his chair over until it was right next to yours, before finally sitting down. You looked up at him, stunned and confused, and he flashed you his usual cocky grin, which only made your heart leap in your throat. Just what was going on? you wondered.

“Ooo Mammon, you’re sitting awfully close today,” Asmodeus teased.

“What’s it to ya, Asmo? Ya jealous?” Mammon, quipped back as he started serving himself some breakfast. He could feel you staring as you struggled to wrap your head around what was happening, and he smirked, shooting you a sideways glance.

“It’s just not fair that you keep hogging them all to yourself. The rest of us should get a chance to sit next to them too.”

“Enough. It’s too early in the morning for this sort of nonsense,” said Lucifer, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know, dear brother, you’re going to get horrible wrinkles if you don’t get more rest,” replied Asmo, shifting his attention to Lucifer.

Mammon turned to look at you, not at all surprised to see that you were still staring at him in shock. He looked down at your lap, and you followed his gaze as he opened his right hand, palm up, and offered it to you. You stared at it for a few moments, before finally sliding your hand into his. You looked up at him again, only to find that his cheeks were now a very deep shade of red, one that spread all the way to the tips of his ears. He was clearly not prepared for how...different...it was going to feel to hold your hand when surrounded by his brothers, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

He was quick to turn his attention to his breakfast, and you did the same, occasionally sneaking glances at Mammon as you ate. Mammon could feel your eyes on him, and while mildly embarrassing, also made him ridiculously happy. Up until yesterday he had been so afraid of making a move in your direction, he hadn’t even stopped to think of the possibility of you actually accepting him. And now that he was holding your hand, he was determined to never let it go.

#gn!mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me comfort #obey me angst #mammon fanfic #mammon angst #mammon comfort

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

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“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know.

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you.

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed.

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming.

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk.

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall.

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office.

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints. You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.”

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now.

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?”

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about.

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out.

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,”

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger.

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within.

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality.

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud.

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier.

But it never came.

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints.

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name.

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow.

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do.

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll.

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or - Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted.

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

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aka-indulgence · 3 years

Text

I was a bit sad and I had an idea with Kraken Sans so....... here it is /w\

Hurt/comfort, reader feels lonely and usually tries to hide it, etc. etc.... giant sea monster man comes to comfort.

-----

There were many reasons you went to the cliff by the sea, with it’s huge waves crashing onto its craggy side.

There were times when you came with friends to go down to the beach. There were times when you came just to enjoy the view (the sunsets were especially breathtaking).

And then there were times where you came when you weren’t feeling so great and just needed to go somewhere.

That was the case right now.

You lean against the railing, the only barrier stopping you from falling down. Looking down always made you dizzy during the day, but during the night, all was dark; nothing but shadows below you, with the occasional glimmer of the waves, or a bit of sea foam whenever the sea struck the rocky face.

Your eyes shimmer as they look up at the stars. Out here, far away from artificial lights, they were clear to see, twinkling wherever you looked at the sky. The wind was blowing in your hair, sweeping your tear-stained cheeks.

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying.

“S… stupid…” you mutter, wiping away the infuriating drops away from your face, even as they keep springing from your eyes.

W… what were you supposed to do when you felt lonely? It wasn’t like you could just… swim over to the main island just like that. Even if you got on a ship, you’d only be there temporarily before you had to go back, and you weren’t exactly made of money to go every day.

You were here to work, and you get visited sometimes, and that’s nice…

But there are times when you really just… wanted someone to be with you, on this relatively tiny piece of land.

“G-get it together… stop… crying already…” you sniffled, frowning in dismay as more kept flowing out of your eyes. You pressed your hand to them, closing your eyes, your body shaking as a silent sob wreaked through it. Your tears ran down your elbow, falling to the waves below.

A few more moments of that gnawing, painful feelings of loneliness, and you took a deep breath, folding your arms on top of the railing. You took in the salty air, letting it slowly fill your chest before exhaling it out. The tears hadn’t stopped, but you’re sure you wouldn’t feel like you were stuck in a lobster cage anymore when you went back to the bungalow you stayed in.

… Maybe… just a few more moments out here. At least until I’m really calm. You thought, waiting for yourself to stop crying, just breathing in, and out.

The sound of the waves and the winds were relaxing, unwinding your muscles. It was quiet and loud at the same time, in a way that you enjoyed.

You were sighing when all of a sudden you a hear a much louder, big splash, waters below you being disturbed, as if something big had come near the shore.

… Or more accurately, like something big had come out of the water.

You watch with wide eyes as a giant skeleton?!?!? Rose out of the waves, with something dark and gleaming rolling about, parting and making waves around it. You squeak when a massive hand lands right beside you, crushing the and bending railing like it was made out of thin wires. You were completely frozen when a skull much bigger than your entire body appeared behind the cliff, and huge lantern-eyes stared down at you.

They both shone white, but there were little changes in its brightness, as if it was a floating ball of liquid sloshing around an invisible container. In a weird way, it reminded you of the sea itself, with globs moving back and forth in those huge glowing spheres.

It only took a few more moments of staring into this giant’s eyes (eyelights?) before you noticed the predicament that you’re in, and fear settled in as your utter shock started to bleed away.

A- A kraken?!!

You assumed as much, those long tendril like objects that were slopping around this creature must’ve been its tentacles.

You started taking a step back.

W… what’s a kraken doing here? W-was he here to eat you??!

Maybe it was the step, or maybe it was the pure terror that was on your face, but suddenly the huge beast reacted. His face contorted into a look of sadness and worry, and the huge interlocking sharp teeth that made his mouth parted in the slightest. He let out an impossibly deep rumbling sound that practically quaked the ground and shook your entire body. The sound stops you in your tracks, trying to stop yourself from losing your footing.

He made another, slightly higher sound that reminded you of whale songs, the hand on the cliff shifting against the ground, his fingers gently curling behind you. The paranoid side of you thought for a second that he was trying to block your escape route, but he didn’t try to grab you or squash you; just making a (protective?) curl around you.

Your hammering heart started to slow down as you realized this giant of the deep doesn’t seem to mean you any harm. But if he didn’t, then… why was he here?

“H… hello?” you greet(?) him tentatively, rubbing your hands together, both fidgeting and keeping them warm.

Your voice seems to have delighted him, as his furrowed brows raised a little and he looked like he was smiling.

Did… did he even understand…?

A series of clicking sound filled the air from somewhere in his throat (you’d wonder how, but you were staring at a giant skeleton-kraken monster). Somehow, it sounded happy to you, light and playful.

He brought his skull closer to the cliff, trying to get a closer look at you. Something about his gaze made you blush, and you hug your hands a little.

“…. (y/n)….” He rumbled again, and after bracing yourself against the deep sound, you perk a little when you realize he not only spoke, but he also said your name.

“H-??” you breathe, “How did you know my name??”

The monster seemed to process your question slowly, blinking once.

“like…. (y/n)….”

At that, the beast’s mouth definitely turned into a smile, and you hear the waves churning under him as he seems to get excited, his sockets crinkling. His tentacles must’ve hit the cliff, because you feel a minute shaking in the ground.

“Like me…?” you echo, and the giant nods as fast as his body allowed, making what you guess is a happy little trill in response.

You let out a sigh. He doesn’t seem especially dangerous at the moment, though you are aware of how easily it’d be for him to squash you like a bug.

His eyes seem to shine brighter when they look at you, and the movements below him slow down.

“How did you…” you start to say, but you’re not sure how much you want to know about apparently having a giant deep-sea admirer, and the fact that you never noticed he was even there. So instead you ask, “Well, who are you… Mr. Sea monster? Do you have a name?”

He didn’t take as long to answer that.

“sans….” he tells you. Then, “have… sea name…”

He demonstrates his other name by making a series of rumble and clicks that you don’t understand, but you assume must mean a whole lot in… ‘Sea language’.

You giggle at this apparent-gentle giant, smiling at him. “Oh ok! So, Sans, or…” you try to mimic whatever sounds Sans had made and apparently made him chuckle (new languages are hard!), “why are you up here?”

Sans’ grin falls a bit, and his eyes looked… sad? His other hand rises over the cliff, around your level, and he points at you.

Or more specifically, your face.

You furrow your brows a little. For you? Was this the time he chose to introduce himself to you?

“H-huh?” was all that came out of your mouth, looking from his pointed finger (it was pretty much as big as you!) to his face.

When it’s clear to him that you didn’t understand, he brings his hand close to you. So much closer that he was going to touch you. You held your breath a little, concerned as to what he’s about to do, and then-

Poke.

You felt a firm, yet light touch on your face. His finger was on your cheek.

“Wh…?”

“… water…” Sans rumbles. “from… your face…”

… Oh. Your tears. You still had tear tracks on your face, and you found you even still had some left when you blinked, another one falling down your face.

“O-oh, these?” your face reddened a little in embarrassment and you wiped the remaining drops away. “Th-they… it’s… nothing to worry about.”

Sans actually frowns, and his brows dip between his sockets.

“… sad.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

You were used to hiding your hurt from others. You were used to drying your tears and smiling for others when they came around the corner. As much as you hated having to just take and endure it, you wouldn’t know how to face others if they tried to look closer.

… And yet…

Just one word from this monster that just appeared himself to you… just brought down any sort of walls you were unconsciously trying to build.

It was so genuine, like…

Like he was speaking to your soul.

A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, and you let them spill. No use hiding it when it feels like he could see right through you.

“Y-yeah. I was… I’m… sad.” You say in defeat, slouching in front of him. His pointing hand shifted around you, and blink through wet eyes, seeing him cup his hand around you, and his giant thumb gently press against your cheek, as if he was trying to wipe them away.

His hand was warm. It felt like… he was hugging you, the closest thing he could do to hug you, and you slump into his palm. You hug the thumb that was on your face and started to sob against the giant bone, shaking and shivering a little. Just… having someone with you… it opened the floodgates, again.

“I-I just…” you tremor, “I-I just feel so lonely s-sometimes…”

It wasn’t if you couldn’t speak to your friends, you could. But the distance was wearing on you, and you weren’t quite as close to your colleagues, and you just…

You just wanted someone to…

…

You wrap your arms around his thumb and rub your face against it, finding yourself comforted instead of afraid when his fingers curl further around you.

Lulling, empathetic songs sounded from the great monster, slowly getting lower in pitch before it raised back up to do it all over again. With practically no pressure, he rubs his thumb on your face, either to dry your tears or to pet you.

… Slowly, you let your trembling fingers go of his giant one, and Sans seems to sense that you’re pulling away, because he pulls his fingers away from you to let you stand. You hold onto the tip of his thumb and rub your sleeve against your face, sniffing.

“Th… thanks Sans.” was all you manage to eke out, unsure of what else to say.

Sans croons, bringing his hand back to press behind you, radiating heat and keeping you warm and safe from the slightly chilly night.

You feel slightly awkward in the silence, not sure what you’re supposed to say to a giant kraken monster after you just cried all over his hand.

You suppose, “I… I should go back. T-to my house,” you stammer, breath still interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

Sans’ calm and almost sleepy face suddenly looked distressed, looking at you like you just threatened him. Sad, weeping sounds came out of him, his fingers starting to close in around you.

Apparently, he didn’t want to say goodbye.

“W-wait! Don’t worry! We can always meet again!” you held your hand out against him, almost reassuring him while you were panicked. “I can come see you again here, tomorrow night, if you’d like?”

The wibbling and calls of despair he was making got quieter, and when you look back you realize both his hands were coming up behind you, like they were about to scoop you up and take you away. At your offer, Sans looked mildly placated, looking at you hopefully.

“tomorrow…” he echoes, “… promise…?”

Ah… maybe…

Maybe you weren’t the only one here who was lonely.

“I promise, Sans.”

You add, “You were good company. I’d like to meet you again tomorrow.”

He takes another moment to process your words before his smile was back on his face, wider than before. A series of rumbles came from him in waves, like… like a chuckle. He pulled his hands away from you, giving you your way back to the bungalow.

“tomorrow.” he says, almost in a sing-song voice, “(y/n). tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” you smiled at him, as you turned inland. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sans!”

“(y/n). tomorrow. (y/n). (y/n).”

You could faintly hear his voice as you walked back, with a little spring to your step. At the moment you had promised to see him tomorrow to stop him from possibly taking you away, but you really did like Sans. And you did want to see him again.

If you looked behind, maybe you could’ve seen those two huge lights, watching you walk back home.

#yea i jus been a bit sad and lonely lately ;v;#so i write.... for comfort... weh #sans x reader #kraken sans #hes been following you... because he loves you

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :)

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

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psychdelia · 3 years

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billy doesn’t know what happened. he was running through the woods, still trapped in the shadow’s world. he doesn’t know how long he’s been there. the last thing he remembered before getting stuck here was facing himself. a dark, soulless version of himself covered in black veins and a look of murder. whenever he manages to find minutes, hours of sleep before the screams and screeches roar to life in search of him, he has vivid dreams. dreams of a girl crying beneath him, dreams of his mother, dreams of screaming in pain and anger and agony as his body gets ripped apart. he doesn’t remember much, but he dreams enough.

so he’s running away from the monsters he had to learn to fight and kill. his axe sticking out of his ratty backpack within arms reach if something caught him off guard. he looks back when he hears a roar and approaching inhuman footsteps. he doesn’t catch the tentacles and tree root he trips over, sending him flying into a huge, black puddle. he sees a bright, blinding light as he falls, eyes squeezed shut.

then he’s landing face first onto something hard, his body slamming down just as hard. he wills himself not to groan or whine, hands shaking as he slowly pushes himself up. he realizes he’s not on even ground when the mat beneath him begins to sway and water comes out from beneath. pool, he realizes distantly.

his body eventually gives out, laying on the mat. he knows he should keep running. doesn’t even want to know how he ended up here with all the weird shit that’s been going on since brimborn. it takes him a while to maneuver out of the pool without getting soaked, pausing before a sliding door, hand on the handle.

things look different now. there isn’t anything floating in the air, there are stars in the sky. the air around him smells like chlorine and not monster blood and guts. everything isn’t upside down. it’s, well, normal. and he hasn’t seen normal in whoever the fuck knows how long.

it’s a trick. an illusion. the world he’s in must be doing it. presenting a safe looking world and house only to reel him in and gut him like it’s been trying to do since he woke up from dreams of california beaches and his mother’s warm smiles to hell.

but billy’s never been the most bright when it came to his safety. talking back to his dad, kissing boys, going 50 down a 25. so he tugs on the door handle only to find that it’s locked. uses the last of his strength to climb through a window, slowly and silently dropping into the house. he’s grabbing his axe, gripping the handle tightly as he steps through the house, leaving blood and black goo-covered boot prints along the floor. he reaches the living room, surprised to find the place hasn’t been torn apart by monsters or rats. he finds a light switch, surprised to find the lights actually turn on. he’s inspecting the place when he turns around and finds a face he never thought he’d see again.

that’s when he decides the universe is actually fucking with him. testing him. the monsters have always been around but they’ve never shape shifted or messed with his head like this. they’ve never turned into people from his life, people he’s hurt. it must be a test. a monster using his weakness against him. they must know he can’t hurt the guy. not again. not after all the harm he already caused.

billy’s hands have begun to shake around the axe, staring back at the big brown eyes that watch his every move. one glance down and he finds he’s not the only one armed. he’s holding a bat. the same bat covered in spikes that max almost castrated him with that one night.

“billy?” he finally speaks, taking a few seconds to decipher whose blue eyes and matted blonde curls are just barely shining through blood and dirt and gore.

billy steps back, barely raises his axe. these things don’t talk. they scream and screech and roar and growl. never speak.

he also hasn’t heard his own name in. well. a while.

“holy shit.” he’s cursing under his breath as he slowly sets the bat down, propped against the couch, within reach if necessary.

“billy.” he tries again, barely stepping forward before his grip on the axe is tightening. “woah, easy.” he raises his hands in surrender. “it’s - it’s me, man. steve.”

billy’s guarded gaze and position is unwavering, hands still trembling yet wrapped tightly around his axe. he flinches when “steve” tries to step forward again, not wanting to have to hurt the thing posing as him. not again.

steve frowns, sadness overtaking his pretty face.

“i’m not gonna hurt you.” steve speaks softly. “and i don’t think you want to hurt me.” he catches the way billy’s expression falters for just a second, looking scared and unsure before his face hardens with false bravado.

that’s the billy steve remembers. that’s how he knows it’s actually him.

they never talked after the fight. barely looked at each other until steve watched him die on the floor of starcourt.

“billy, please.” steve tries. takes another step forward. counts it a victory when billy doesn’t step back or raise his weapon. so he takes another, then another. he’s standing face to face with the guy, getting a proper look at him.

“you’ve seen some shit, huh?” he murmurs softly as he gently takes the axe out of billy’s hand and sets it aside, surprised as how easily billy gave it up to him.

steve doesn’t expect billy to crash into him the next second. he’s frightened billy’s about to tackle and start swinging until he hears a sob and feels trembling hands cling to his shoulders and shirt. he catches billy as he breaks apart, strong arms around his middle keeping him up, holding him tight and close.

“i got you.” he promises, heart slowly breaking at the way billy cries and clings to him.

it takes him a minute to realize billy’s talking through his sobs, repeating broken i’m sorry’s into steve’s now damp neck and chest, billy’s tears seeping into his shirt. the guy’s barely breathing, hiccuping and wheezing for air, overwhelmed with emotion he hadn’t been able to release freely and safely.

hours go by. hours of gentle words and shushes, hours of holding billy up because his whole body seemed to have given out. hours of calming him down and trying to get him to just breathe. the sun is almost out when he eventually coaxes billy into the shower.

his heart breaks for the millionth time that night when billy grabs his wrist as he goes to leave the bathroom, eyes silently pleading to not leave him alone. steve doesn’t question him or say a word as he strips down to his boxers and gets into the shower beside him. he lets billy lean against him as he scrubs his hair and body, forgetting any social normalities or boundaries as he cleans the black off of golden skin and matted blonde. he keeps billy close when he dries him off and brushes through his hair. when he gets him dressed into steve’s warmest clothes. when he takes him into the kitchen and feeds him.

there’s no question or doubt when he brings billy up to his room and gets them both into bed. warm blankets up to their chins, his chest pressed against billy’s back, arms secure around his waist, billy manages a weak thank you before he drifts to sleep.

when he wakes up warm and still in the security of steve’s arms with no sign or sound of monsters, he knows he’s safe. they spend all day catching each other up and talking about everything, from the fight to the upside down to starcourt, still deciding if and how exactly to tell the others billy’s clone left him in the upside down. that billy’s mind and soul stayed alive while his body died in the real world. that he’s been fighting the whole time.

they’ll figure it out.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy coming back from the upside down #and ending up in #or on LOL #steve’s pool #is constantly going through my mind #hurt/comfort #they do a lot of talking #starting from the beginning #their high school feud all the way to starcourt and everything in between

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Soulmate au! tattoos - Harry Hook x Reader - Oneshot

Small spin on two soulmate au ideas that got sent in, name tattooed somewhere on the body and whatever is drawn on the skin shows up on the other, and im including tattoos (except those don’t disappear so if your soulmate get a tattoo you get one too and unless you get it removed it's there to stay)

soulmate au ideas from anon and @harryhasmehooked

tattoo designs/ideas borrowed from @kindofchaoticgood

Everyone was born with their soulmates name tattooed somewhere on their body, on their wrist, on their collarbone, on the back of the neck, anywhere really. Another thing was that whatever your soulmate had something written or drawn on their arm, it would show up on your body as well.

Many soulmates found each other by communicating with a pen and writing their information on their skin, others liked to make it a hunt and only give hints to their soulmate.

Then there were the tattoos. and not the ones that one was born with. The ones that someone got willingly inked onto their body.

If someone got a tattoo, that same tattoo would appear on their soulmate's body, but unlike when they simply wrote on their arm with a pen, it wouldn’t disappear unless they got it removed.

Sometimes, people gushed over their soulmate's tattoo and proudly wore them, others hid their tattoos away in fear they would be judged.

Usually, the ones who hid their tattoos either had a good reason to hide them or were just ashamed of their soulmate's choice of art.

You weren’t one of those people.

Around the time you were 11 or 12, small temporary tattoos began to appear on your skin, first just little inked ones that would easily wash off, but soon little stick and poke tattoos started to appear, they would fade after a while but they were cute and you retouched them on your own when you could. Some were little music notes, others resembled constellations, and one, which was your favorite, was a small hook nestled in the crook of your palm.

The first “real” tattoo showed up several months after the first poke and stick tattoos, your cousin had joked about how cliche it was and your soulmate must be a pirate or something, a skull with crossed swords on the right side of your chest.

Your parents had pretty much freaked out, you only being 12 and already having a tattoo but you brushed it off and admired it every day, writing on your arm to ask your soulmate where and how they had gotten the tattoo.

Unfortunately, you had never gotten a response.

The next tattoo to appear, on the left side of your chest this time, was a ship sailing into the horizon. Again you asked them where and how they had gotten the tattoo, along with asking the name of the ship, once again there was no response.

Only a week later a new tattoo showed up, this time on the inside of your left arm, written in slight cursive were the words “No grave can hold me down” you had traced the words the entire night into the next morning.

Soon after that, another tattoo showed up, this one on the back of your left hand, depicting three swords crossing their blades.

Your cousins always teased you about how pirate-like your soulmate's tattoos were, but you laughed at the slight irony of it since your soulmate might have been a pirate after all.

Considering their last name was “Hook” it was a pretty good chance that they had followed their dad's footsteps.

“Harry Hook” a name that drifted through your dreams, you always imagined what they would be like, hopefully, nothing like James hook.

It was years before a new tattoo showed up, when you were 16 and attending Auradon prep, after King Ben had invited four villain kids to Auradon, curling black inked words on the inside of your right arm ‘death before disloyalty’. You had no clue what it meant, but it clearly had a deeper meaning.

Throughout the years you had no luck in attempting to contact your ‘Harry Hook’, you had either sent a simple ‘hi’ or a small little note mentioning one of the tattoos. It was always no response. Though you got little notes from them that were rare and never had anything to do with what you sent him. Just little ‘hello’s and asking your name, but every time you responded, nothing came back.

you had mentioned it to Evie, who was in your art class, who said that because of the barrier, it prevented soulmate magic as well, meaning Harry hadn’t ever seen your little notes and didn’t even have your name tattooed on him somewhere.

Evie was also the only one who knew of your soulmate's name that was willing to tell you about him, being the least…biased against her fellow vk. Mal, Jay, and Carlos all seemed to have some sort of grudge against him and always badmouthed him when the topic of Harry came up.

Though thanks to Evie and her thankfully amazing art skills, she had depicted Harry for you, she had said it wasn’t perfect since she was more of a concept artist than one who practiced realism, that was more Mal’s thing, but you could tell she was just being modest.

Black fluffy hair, ocean blue eyes always lined with liner, plump lips that Evie said were always in a sharp smirk, a jaw that could cut someone. He was perfect, and you hoped you could meet him soon.

Three months after the vks had come to Auradon, a new tattoo appeared; this time of a solid black anchor on your right forearm. You traced it constantly with your finger, wondering what this one meant, just as you did with every tattoo appearance.

Soon after that, a swallow appeared just above the crook of your right elbow, and a lioness with a language you couldn’t speak written under it appearing on your left wrist.

Then a watercolor lily on the side of your right forearm, then constellations started to appear on your back, you had Evie take a picture each time one appeared, smiling as yours appeared among them (star sign, like Virgo or Capricorn)

Around April, another tattoo appeared, again on your right forearm, this time of a treble clef symbol with a series of notes within the loops. You wondered what the song was, humming it under your breath as you tapped out the notes on whatever surface your hand was resting on.

It was several months later before another tattoo appeared, and it was the most beautiful one yet. Swirling turquoise tentacles curled around and down your right arm, starting from your right shoulder and ending just below your elbow.

You had started wearing sleeveless tops more often, wanting everyone to see the masterpiece that was curled around your arm.

Once you turned 18 you started to decorate your skin as well, your first being a watercolor compass on your left bicep that melted into waves as it drew away from the middle.

Next, you got one with a moon theme on the back of your neck just below your hairline, reaching down your neck and connecting with the constellations on your back.

After that you got a skeleton hand on your right hand, then the map of Neverland on your thigh, then the north star on your ankle.

You were almost covered in tattoos, to which some people gaped and gasped, but you paid them no mind, your tattoos were your only connection to your soulmate and you couldn’t wait for the day that he would finally see your combined works.

Harry didn’t know if he had a soulmate or not, the barrier prevented any type of communication through writing on their skin or their names being tattooed on their body.

So Harry had gone his entire life without knowing the name of his, possibly non-existent, soulmate, and no matter how many times he had tried to talk to them, there was never any response.

He always did wonder though, if he had a soulmate, what they thought of his tattoos. Did they like them? Did they wear them proudly? Did they hide them? Did they get them removed? He would probably never know.

Until one day, only a couple days after the four traitors had invited four new vks, he was outside of the barrier.

The blank spots on his skin bloomed to life, a watercolor compass on his left bicep, a skeleton hand on his right hand, Gil told him about the moon tattoo on the back of his neck, the tingle of magic on his thigh and ankle told him there were new tattoos there was well.

He stared at the new tattoos, smiling slightly at the realization that he did have a soulmate. His smile dipped a bit as his left wrist started to burn slightly, and he ripped away the old bandage that covered his scar from years ago, eyes widening as the curving letters of his soulmates started to appear.

‘(y/n) (l/n)’

Harry stared at the name, not realizing everyone was moving towards Auradon till Gil gently pushed at his shoulder to get him to move “oh” Harry muttered, catching up with Uma and smirking as she stared at the large tattoo sleeve on his right arm.

“you are such a dork” she snorted, pushing at his arm and looking at his hand “didn’t think you were one to get a skeleton tattoo”

Harry just held up his left wrist with a grin “Oh holy shit!” Uma laughed, grabbing onto his hand and examining the name “(y/n) huh?...nice name” Mal yelled at them to catch up, making Uma glare at the girl. “hold your pants princess were dealing with some shit back here!”

Uma and Harry shared a look ‘we’ll talk about this later’ and followed after the other vks, Uma continuing to poke and prod at Harry's new tattoos.

Harry stood awkwardly in a quiet corner at Mal and Ben's engagement party as everyone else danced in the middle of the large garden. He swirled the pink lemonade in the small glass cup and took a careful sip. He let a small smile grow on his face as Gil and Uma spun around on the dance floor.

He glanced down at his left wrist, flexing it a bit as his soulmate's name shined lightly in the sunlight. He let out a sigh and took another sip of his drink, he had no idea where his soulmate was, they could be anywhere really, in Auradon, or maybe on the other side of the world.

“I like your tattoos” a voice spoke from beside him, and Harry glanced at them for a moment before looking back at the dance floor.

“Thank yeh” he muttered back, pausing as he went to take another sip of his drink. He whirled back around, eyes widening as he really looked at the person who had complimented him.

They were covered in tattoos, ones that matched his exactly, on their right arm were turquoise tentacles, an anchor, a swallow in flight, a watercolor lily, a treble clef with music notes, and…his name on the inside of your wrist. “Harry Hook…right?” you asked nervously, tapping your foot against the ground.

Harry looked down at his wrist again and looked back at you “aye…(y/n) (l/n)?” he asked softly, smiling as you grinned and nodded.

“That would be me, it's nice to finally meet you Harry” you held out your hand, your grin widening as Harry eagerly took it. “Come on, let's talk”

“Okay,” Harry muttered, sharing a smile with Uma and Gil as they pointed at your tattoos with wide grins “let's talk.”

You tugged Harry out of the garden party, your hands tightly intertwined. Just below your intertwined hands at the wrists, the tattooed names glowed for a moment then shimmered to a shining, just visible, gold color.

A symbol that one's soulmate had been found.

-end-

another short but sweet oneshot! probably didnt make complete sense but im just wanting to get back into writing since ive been feeling a bit of a block with my main stories, so if anybody else has anymore soulmate au ideas send em in.

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @remembered-license

@random-thoughts-003 @verboetoperee

@rintheemolion @jatp-rules-my-life

@thecaptainsgingersnap @imtryingthisout

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #soulmate au #tattoos

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Punishment ~ SCB [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

GENRE: Smut, just smut, request

PAIRING: Changbin x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Explicit language, dom! Changbin, Sub!Reader, tying up, butt plugs, orgasm denial, spanking, pet names, degradation, after care, creampie, unprotected sex, use of toys

It was no secret to you that Changbin had a sensitive back, you'd found out through trial and error and since then you'd been using it to tease him and be the bratty little sub that you were for him but there was only so much Changbin would take before he snapped and punished you for it. You smirked as Changbin continued to thrust into you, tonight was different than normal it was just some vanilla sex to help him relax after a long day but each time he thrust into you hitting that one spot that had your head spinning you cried out his name. Digging your nails into his skin on his arms and dragging them down, you couldn't help scratching him in the bedroom when he made you feel so good,

"F-Fuck!" You whimpered arching your back away from the mattress as you felt yourself growing closer to your third orgasm of the night your head was starting to spin and your nails drug into Changbin's shoulders running them down his soft skin as you cried out his name but just like that he pulled out of you and grunted at you.

"Such a fucking tease," He hissed at you hitting your clit softly with the palm of his hand, you whimpered as the small soft smacks began to turn into rough ones each time.

"W-What? I was-"

"Close? I know Princess," He cooed running his hands up to your breasts as he started to fondle them, massaging them in his hands and smirking as you let out small whines. It was enough for you and he knew that but he'd had enough of you being such a brat, all week you'd done nothing but scratch his back even the smallest of touches made him sensitive to it.

"You've done nothing but tease me all week, I told you not to play around with me!" You could have moaned out at the way he raised his voice in the bedroom, you grew wetter at the thought of what he was going to do to you.

"Changbin-" He growled grabbing your by the neck and applying a small amount of pressure as you let out a choked laugh, you knew he hated to be called Changbin when he was in a mood like this.

"What's my name?" You whimpered looking up into his eyes as he stared down at you applying a little more pressure just to cut off your air,

"M-Master!" You stuttered out, he released his grip on your neck and you began gasping for air while staring at him.

"Good girl, now let's see if you can keep up the good girl act." He smirked getting off the bed as he walked over to the wardrobe, inside - apart from his clothes - was a whole world of toys that he'd grown over the years. Ropes, cable ties, handcuffs, you name it and it was probably in there. Including some vibrating underwear he'd used on you when you were out to dinner a couple of weeks ago with the boys.

"Master, what are you-" You stopped talking when he came out of the room with a small black and red box, that meant whatever he had in store for you was a secret and you weren't going to know what it was until he decided it was time.

"Wrists together angel," You sat on your knees wasting no time in putting your wrists together as he made his way over to you, he pulled out a small silk tie from the box. One you'd gotten him for his birthday this year and he placed the box on the bedside table,

"Good girl, why can't you be this obedient all the time?" You pouted out, you hated being the good girl. There was no fun in being good all of the time because then it would mean no fun punishments,

"I'm always a good girl," Changbin licked his teeth shaking his head at you as he turned you around,

"On all fours, head near the headboard." You did as instructed and he pushed your chest down into the mattress so your ass was angled in the air for him. He slapped across the skin harshly with the palm of his hand and you let out a yelp in surprise,

"That's for lying, we both know you're never good." You smirked into the mattress as he took your tied wrists and attached them to the bed making sure it was tight enough that you couldn't get out without his help.

"You remember your safe word?" He questioned running his hands down your spin and towards your ass, you were still just as wet as when he was fucking you, if not wetter and he chuckled pushing two of his fingers into your cunt.

"Y-Yes! Green, Yellow and Red." It was one of the basics but it was something you both knew very well, so far with Changbin you'd only ever gotten to a yellow. He was always careful with you no matter how lost he got with you.

"Good girl, eyes forward." You looked at the headboard as you heard him rummaging around in his box you wondered for a second what he could be doing when you felt something cold squirt onto your ass. Your breath hitched as you felt him rubbing the lube around your hole, he noticed your body tense up,

"Relax princess," As much as he was mad and punishing you right now he wanted to make sure you were okay with everything happening, he would never make you do something you weren't comfortable with, you took a deep breath letting it relax you.

"Good girl," He pushed a finger into you first, trying to warm you up before he slotted the black butt plug into you. It was one of his favourites, the top was a love heart-shaped fake purple diamond it was one of the gifts he'd gotten you when you first got together.

"C-Chang- Master," You breathed out as he slowly pushed the object into you, you whined out at the new feeling. Anal wasn't something you were used to yet which was why he'd gone for a smaller sized plug rather than the bigger ones.

"You like being stuffed full don't you angel?" You nodded at him as he began rubbing your ass cheeks before slapping it when you didn't give him a real answer,

"Words. I want to hear you,"

"Yes, Master! I love being stuffed," You whimpered your eyes shooting open as his hand came into contact with your ass cheek again,

"Good girl," He then took something else from the box but you couldn't tell what it was, a curved massage wand called 'the squirter' it had dots on it to resemble suckers from a tentacle making your head spin with the sensations when it was inside of you. Not to mention it hit your g-spot with ease thanks to the curvature of the toy.

"I don't think you deserve my dick, tonight angel," You frowned wondering what he meant when the cold toy came into contact with your core, he was pushing the tip in an out of you so you could guess what it was. As soon as your head rolled forward and you let out a whimper he pushed it into you softly not wanting to hurt you,

"Fuck!" Your hands gripped onto the tie around your wrists and he chuckled darkly if you could see him you would see his eyes glazed over darkly at the sight of you like this for him. Fully stuffed except for your mouth, he didn't want to stuff your mouth he wanted to hear every moan and whine leave your body as a punishment for scratching his back. For making him sensitive he was going to make you just as sensitive if not more.

"Your language is disgusting!" He grunted rewarding you with a slap across your ass cheek, you were sure by the end of the night you wouldn't be able to sit down or walk straight.

"S-Sorry Master," You whined out looking over your shoulder at him, he chuckled licking his lips as he began to push the toy in and out of your dripping core. It already had you moaning from the feel of the toy,

"Clenching so much I can barely move it, you really like being filled huh?" You nodded desperately, rolling your head forward as you let out a loud moan. As soon as you were used to the feeling of the toy Changbin began to roughly push it in and out of you, wanting to bring you close to your release.

"M-Master!" You warned him looking over your shoulder at him again, your back dipping as your body began to betray you. Your legs were already shaking and your stomach was beginning to tighten as your oncoming orgasm approached,

"I-I'm gonna cum!" You cried out closing your eyes tightly as your toes began to curl, as soon as Changbin saw that he ripped the toy out of you leaving you to wiggle as your orgasm slipped away from you.

"W-What...B-But- Master?" You wanted to cry from the sudden intenseness being ripped away from you like that,

"I told you I was going to punish you, colour?" You whimpered rolling your head forward in defeat,

"Green." You admitted and he smirked running his fingers through your folds and licking them clean,

"Maybe I should taste my little toy...Would you like that?" Another slap across your ass,

"Yes please," Manners were everything to Changbin in the bedroom, the box was opened again and something was pulled from inside. More lube was squirted out and then something pushed inside of you,

"T-The lush bullet?" Your eyes were already rolling back from the thought of this being turned on inside of you,

"Good guess," He chuckled turning the small bullet onto the lowest setting and watched as you wriggled, the sensation wasn't enough to bring you close to an orgasm but it was enough to torture you to a moan.

"Look at you wriggling when I've barely started," He grabbed onto your ass with both hands and squeezed your cheeks roughly before leaning down to lick your slit with his tongue in small kitten licks.

"Master," You breathed out finally feeling something from him on you, he chuckled sending extra vibrations through your body.

"What angel? Do you want something?" He questioned reaching under you to rub your clit with his thumb, creating small fast circles as you moaned out.

"F-Faster please," You pleaded with him looking at him as he sunk back down behind you and began to eat your out roughly, turning up the vibrations of the toy buried deep inside of you.

"YES!" You screamed out your eyes widening as the tightness quickly returned to your stomach, the toy was on its highest frequency and Changbin began dipping his tongue in and out of you to bring you closer to your release.

"S-Sir," Your voice came out shakey as you rocked back on his tongue, earning yourself a slap across the clit making your legs spread and cause you to almost sink into the bed but Changbin kept your up with his arm.

"Close?" He questioned, his mouth never leaving your core making his word vibrate on you more, you could do nothing but nod all words had left your head by now.

"Words!" He growled grabbing onto your ass and roughly dragging his nails into your skin.

"YES! I'm close! Fuck I'm so close!" Admitting you were close meant this was going to go away and you hated that, you bucked back against him trying to achieve your orgasm but he ripped it away from you. Pulling the toy from your core while it was vibrating and moving his lips from you.

"I-I can't take much more," You whimpered your eyes filling with tears as he ripped your orgasm away from you right as you were about to release.

"Do you want me back angel?" You nodded at him,

"Yes master," You whimpered rolling your head forward in defeat and he smirked, he didn't want to push you too much tonight so he rubbed his tip at your entrance.

"Let me hear you beg for it then princess," You let out a gasp feeling him at your entrance, the bratty side of you begged for you to move backwards so he would slot right inside but the smarter part of you knew it was a bad idea.

"I want you buried deep inside of me please master, I want you to fuck me so hard I can't remember anything except your name." You were dying for him to push into you,

"I want you to fill me up," You knew that was the one thing that would make him push into you, there was one thing about Changbin you knew all-too-well. He loved finishing inside of you, watching as your juices mixed together and spilt out of you ruining the mattress or sheets below you.

"Ugh shit," He grunted deeply as he pushed into you until his length was buried inside of you making you cry out his name, he didn't care this time though. You were so tight around him, he could feel your walls pulsating around him as he tried to move. You whimpered each time he moved in the slightest, you could have cum on the spot just from him being deep inside of you.

"Fuck you're like a vice I can't move," He grunted slapping across your ass making you release some of the grip you had on him and he moaned out your name beginning to rock his hips with a little more force.

"R-Right there," You whimpered looking over your shoulder to lock eyes with him, his eyes were shut as he continued to push in and out of you moaning out your name as his hands held onto your hips tightly.

"S-Shit! Master," You cried out rocking your hips as he began to slam in and out of you, pulling almost all of the way out only to slam right back into you at the last second and have you screaming out in pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside of you making your head spin as your stomach tightened, the look on his face made your eyes roll back,

"Close." You warned him but not wanting this to stop but he didn't, he continued thrusting making sure you could feel every inch. His tip hitting your hilt with ease as you continued moaning out louder,

"C-Close!" You screamed pulling at the tie trying to fight back from cumming right on him, he bent down closer to your ear hitting deeper than before, he felt as though he was in your gut making you cry out and a squeal leave your throat,

"Cum for me angel, you've earnt it." You whimpered as your legs began to shake, your stomach tightening until it finally snapped from its grasp.

"Shit! I'm cum-cumming!" You whimpered your hips bucking backwards automatically as he continued to thrust inside of you your walls clenching around him as you cried out his name.

"O-Oh fuck angel," He grunted his hips jutted as he continued to thrust into you, filling you up as he looked down to see both of your juices leaking out already. Creating a loud squelching sound as he continued his small thrusts, each thrust making you whine and whimper at the stimulation.

Changbin was laid behind you keeping you wrapped up in his arms, he'd pulled the plug from you right away after finishing and began applying some cream to your ass cheeks to cool them from his spanks.

"Do you want a hot bath? A drink? Something to eat?" You smiled tiredly as he began to question you on what you wanted,

"I want you...Just hold me," You yawned closing your eyes as you tried to focus on his heartbeat to fall asleep to, he smiled softly kissing your cheeks as you began to drift off in his arms, he pulled another blanket over your body and snuggled against you for the night.

Tagline: @peachyhan @taestannie @jooniesdarlingdimples @spearb1108

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