#Right! Tagging here is best kept specific!
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Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
Summary: As the end of the school year continues to creep up on all of the seventh-year students, Sebastian has thought about what’s to come after graduation shamefully little. He’s equal parts annoyed and worried that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and he’s even more frustrated that he’s running out of time to tell you how he really feels about you. When a chance opportunity finally presents itself, Sebastian seizes the moment, even if the setting is a little… unorthodox.
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, love confessions, bathtub sex
Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 with more diverse tags :))
It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter.
Garreth had brought up graduation.
It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting.
Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to.
Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same.
Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter.
Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers.
Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity.
He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates.
It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would.
“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you.
You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks.
“I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter.
“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.”
Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.
There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening.
Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”
He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”
Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful.
For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly.
What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that?
“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?”
You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?”
“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.”
You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous.
“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.”
Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?”
You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Scotland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”
“Scotland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”
You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”
His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.”
“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”
“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?”
It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying.
You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.”
Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.
He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him.
“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone.
Again.
“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?”
“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss.
A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake.
After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin.
“Sebastian, I– ah…”
He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.
You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?”
He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.”
“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?”
“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.”
You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind.
Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before.
It was nowhere to be found.
When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt.
You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence.
Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.
Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.”
You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you.
In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more.
The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?”
“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.”
You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored.
Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts.
The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away.
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”
You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you.
Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly.
“Gods, S-Sebastian–”
The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin.
With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist.
“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses.
“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.”
His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager.
“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further.
“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”
“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked.
When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were.
“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–”
The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating.
It was too much.
Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him.
“Merlin, Sebastian…”
“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you.
Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again.
“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”
“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?”
You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters.
No pun intended.
Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control.
Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing.
“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face.
Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?”
“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”
Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.
The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned.
He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”
You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation.
“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”
“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder.
Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–”
Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge.
He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”
Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands.
“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.”
“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?”
Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot.
“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you.
Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?”
“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Scotland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.”
All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–”
“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”
To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?”
He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?”
“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”
Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able.
It just so happened that presently, he was holding on to you.
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x female!reader#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#sebastian sallow oneshot#hogwarts legacy oneshot#sebastian sallow x mc#I chewed my lip off trying to finish this before I have to leave for Medieval Times#gonna go watch knights joust on horse back and drink ale out of a tankard#bye happy reading MWAH#my writing
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✧ 𝒊 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕 ✧
yandere secret agent x reader
‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧ 🍸₊˚ ⋆｡ 𖦹 °
⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: after taking on your friend's offer to head downtown to a hidden bar, you find yourself in the middle of a covert operation. thankfully Messiah is there to hide you from danger. or did he just push you right into it?
⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: gn reader, yandere, suggestive position & situation, slight violence, reader held at gunpoint, mentions of a firearm and getting shot, reader pressed against male crotch, sadism(?), auditory hallucination (you hear voices), hair pulling, swearing
⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,153 words
⭒ a/n: it was my birthday last month and i had planned to post this by then but ofc i never learn my lesson and kept my drafts in tumblr (leading to it getting deleted) 😭!! so sorry for the wait everyone and happy late new years! :D hope u like the batman wannabe.. it goes from 0 to 100 rq because it's hilarious to me and i'm sleep deprived.. i can smell the hate comments already
will you venture down this path?
it was supposed to be another weekend night spent alone in your home; you, comfortably snuggling against your pillows while playing your favourite brain-rot game from night to morning.
but here you were— unfortunately not in your bed, and devastatingly not romancing your fictional game characters. your friend, Vern, had dragged convinced you to join him and try out some random jazz bar which recently opened.
he mentioned his band would be playing there... he's probably just trying to get more people to hype up his band.
the warm ambience of the bistro & bar, alongside the joyous laughter ringing all over the room, people bantering and simply enjoying each other's presence was enough to erase the thoughts of your usual weekend plans. it was the type of place where you couldn't bring up any negative emotions just because of how chill everyone and everything was. so that's one forgiveness point to your friend.
at some point, Vern had split off from you to meet up with the other Ares band members to go perform— leaving you to drink away your life at the bar.
you channeled your best resting bitch face to avoid any strangers trying to hit on you, which worked. you sat alone listening to the blue voice of the current performer, making small talk here and there with the bartender.
oh, the bartender—
you'd been eyeing him up all night.
he was the only other person at the bar. like all other bartenders, he was charismatic and attractive despite the two deep scars running down his left cheek.
maybe he noticed you looking at it, because he suddenly rasped out, "...animal attack" with a nonchalant smile. which is quite impressive, since your gaze never once lingered on the scars for too long. he must be observing me.
Logan (you read his name tag) was an exceptional conversationist. and he played the bartender role extremely well. he brought up topics like your ambitions, your dreams, and even your darkest passions effortlessly.
but his eyes never seemed to really focus on your figure when you talked.
it was always off to a specific direction in the distance. and when you turned to look at what he was looking at, there would only be the same wrinkly old man sitting on the sofa chair.
"can you see it?"
confused, you reply, "see what?"
do you see it? the eyes? his lack of mouth? with hair as white as his, and skin as dark as void, how can you not see me?
"what the hell are you sayi—" you grow pale when you turn back and see Logan had his back turned away from you the whole time, far from the counter.
who was talking to me?
and for the first time in 3 hours since you've arrived, the old man from the chair moves. he wanders aimlessly for a moment until setting his sights on the bar. multiple random people who were loitering in the room take notice of his sudden movement, and all briskly walk towards him.
you're petrified.
the world is spinning, people are blocking the old man's path from you. and you're so thankful for that because it gives you the time to be pulled on top of the bar counter and then underneath it by a pair of strong hands.
your consciousness recovers and you're met with Logan, body crouched down to your level. his shadowed face shows no semblance of the bright man you were talking to a while ago. now his own icy blue eyes pierced through yours, and the once attractive rasp of his voice is now chilling to the bone.
"Logan—"
"you better fucking shut up unless you want to die."
he pulls out a revolver and points it to your forehead.
profusely nodding your head in understanding, tears begin to prick your eyes; this is so fucking messed up, what is happening??
your brain tells you that this was just the alcohol getting to you, and maybe Logan has some kind of split personality and a murderer... that it's some kind of sick prank Vern is probably pulling on you. maybe my drink got spiked...
but your gut tells you that you are in great danger. alcohol has never made you experience that level of auditory hallucination... hell, you were probably being delusional right now— of course Logan's trying to kill you!!
you could hear the faint sounds of bodies thudding against other people as if they were thrown or pushed. but no screams, just grunts. the loudness of the approaching footsteps came to a halt in front of the counter.
you cover your cries as best as you can with your palms and with Logan's hidden weapon still pointed at you. you could so easily whack it away or dodge it. but you stop once you hear the most grotesque voice ever, the result of what sounded like flesh tearing apart and bones reconstructing.
"where... are... they.....?"
you are faced with two decisions:
scream for help and get shot in the head by Logan
scream for help and face whatever the fuck is out there
either way, you don't get to choose. because the stress of the situation is beginning to overwhelm you and soon your whimpers slip out a little. small enough to not be heard from in front of the counter, but big enough for whoever is on top of you— and that someone happened to be the psychopathic bartender.
you freeze.
but your strength alone is not enough to hold back against the veiny hands that grab the back of your hair and push you against the bulge of the man standing in front of you.
you push and thrash over his grasp, but your actions only lead to him digging the lower parts of your face further into his crotch. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING??? IS HE TRYING TO SILENCE ME WITH HIS DICK?!
and it works...
you stay silent and limp, not because of fear. but because of the absurdity of this situation and the slow growth of whatever beast is hiding under those black waiter pants.
the heat of your muffled breath against his privates collects in your face, it's getting too much but you hold yourself together. your hands that were once pushing him off now lay on the top of his hardened thighs.
Logan shares a couple words with the old man before pointing him elsewhere. you catch a strange name falling off the old man's lips, Messiah. fuck, is this a cult? shortly afterwards, you hear the light sounds of evacuating feet. he's finally gone.
and with the speed of a middle-aged lady during black friday sales, you manage to push him off to the side and stand up across him, ready to give him a piece of your mind.
you were humiliated, violated, mentally tired and— and—
why the fuck is he blushing.
#yandere#original yandere character#yandere x reader#unhinged#yandere boy#male yandere#yandere male#yancore#yanblr#yandere art#yandere male x reader#male yandere x reader#yandere blog#yandere themes#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere writing#tw yandere#soft yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere scenarios#yandere oc x reader#original character#original art#yandere character#character art#yanderecore#yandere imagines#yandere secret agent#original writing
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Chapter 16.5 - Confessions and Cars 2
I thought I'd post this as a "I'm sorry" chapter lol and I felt like you readers needed some closure.
While writing this, I also realized that I do not know how to write a kiss (due to my non-existent love life)...so if someone has suggestions - I'd gladly take them :D
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
If Arthur thought that visiting you last November before you signed a Red Bull contract would somehow end up with you in his arms, he wouldn’t change anything. Back then, you had been his best friend. And, well, you were still his best friend, but he was hoping that soon (like tonight) you’d be more.
The end credits of Cars 2 played on the tv in the dark room. Most of the drivers (including but not limited to Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Daniel, Pierre, Charles, and Max) – maybe all of the drivers, who had come to visit you after your release from the hospital, had all left by now. A completed Lego Porsche 9-11 sat on the little counter by the basic coffee machine.
Now, it was just you, whose eyes were slowly drooping, and Arthur, who hadn’t been able to take his arms off of you since you got to the hospital in the first place.
Arthur, who had held you hand as the doctor put an IV in, because he knew your fear of needles.
Arthur, who had extra hair ties on his wrist, because he knew you hated to have your hair on your neck right after races, no matter what.
Arthur, who had called ahead to the front desk to specifically ask for a copy of Cars 2 be delivered to the room.
Arthur, who ubered your exact McDonalds order because you mentioned the craving once while you were still under some strong pain medication.
Arthur, who was your best friend, but you honestly wanted to be some more.
Your brain had been running a million miles since your car flipped into the barriers.
“Are you ready to go to bed yet?”
But his voice, was able to stop all thoughts.
You only let out a sigh in response. Arthur didn’t want to rush you, so he just picked the remote up and started your comfort movie over again.
Yet, you didn’t want to watch the entire thing over again.
“I was scared.”
Arthur immediately paused the movie, but kept his eyes in front.
“I watched the sky cross the opening. And then it just, hurt.”
His arms tightened around you. Yet, it wasn’t painful.
“I blacked out for a while. And then when I woke up, all I heard,” you turned to look at the boy in your arms, “was you, calling for me.”
Tears started forming in both yours and Arthur’s eyes. You shuffled a bit closer to him, getting even closer.
Arthur took a deep breath.
Hours before, he was ready to confess it all once you had gotten your first place trophy. He had it all planned out. But then, his world stopped the moment your back tyre clipped the first kerb and then you rolled.
“Y/n,” he started. This time, his eyes met yours. The TV forgotten in the background. In this moment, Arthur was glad that everyone else had left.
You waited with baited breath, urging him silently to continue.
“Well, I had this big plan, for after your race. And now, sitting here, I just know one thing and one thing only.”
You cocked your head in confusion. Yet, your heart was wanting him to speak the once sentence you’ve wanted to hear for forever.
“I love you. And when you didn’t respond,” he took your hands in his, “I wanted to die. And I know that might sound extreme, but at that moment, I knew I didn’t want a life without you in it. I also know that we’ve only known each other for a little more than a year but…”
You decided to interrupt him. “You’ve been my best friend for the majority of that year.”
He nodded with you, heart a bit dejected since you hadn’t confessed right after.
“I’ve never had a best friend, before you. And, I also couldn’t imagine a life without you. And Thur…”
He didn’t let you finish.
His lips met yours in a fervent kiss. You had to take a second to reel in your thoughts, but you kissed back. Because in this moment, you didn’t want anything to change. A large exhale left your nose.
You were hungry for a race win.
Arthur was hungry for your love.
His hands moved from holding yours to gripping your sides. And well, in true Arthur fashion, he gripped a bit too hard as a hiss left your lips.
His wide eyes looked right at your with concern. “I am so sorry.”
And before he could start to ramble in broken French, you pecked his lips. Well, that shut him up.
“It’s ok,” you whispered, trying to convince him. “And I love you too. Maybe a bit too much.”
Arthur sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against yours. “You do not know how happy that makes me to hear.” His words were a bit jumbled and his accent was heavy, but you got the gist.
“What now?”
Maybe it was your fears and doubts, but if this changed things, you’d rather not continue. Because you’d rather be best friends than lose him.
Arthur shut his eyes, smiles, and cocked his head. “I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend.” He gave you another sweet kiss, one that you reciprocated with a smile.
“Well then,” another kiss, “ask me.” A smirk replaced the smile.
Arthur leaned back and took your hands back into his and sat up straight. “Y/n?”
You let out a giggle.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
You quickly pressed up against his face. Not in a kiss sense way. More like, you missed and just smashed your face against him. He tried to keep you upwards, but you pushed him down and fell on top of him. Another hiss left your lips, but a laugh covered it. You gently rested your head on his chest as your attention was back to the movie.
“Yes. I will be your girlfriend Mr. Leclerc.”
Arthur just let you snuggle back into him as he played the movie for a second time. Just as Mater was about to be reunited with Lightning McQueen, a thought suddenly crossed your mind.
“What are we going to tell Max?”
April 9, 2024
y/n.89 has posted
y/n.89 through it all, nobody gets me like you do
liked by y/n.nation, f1_fanatic, olliebearman, and 59,294 others
b0x_b0x UM GOOD MORNING? NOT EVEN A HELLO?
maxiel_lover babe, wake up, y/n just did a soft launch
y/n_nation Arthur isn't in the likes...
y/nxarthur I fear this is the end of the friendship??
y/n-on_top why would it be the end...
y/nxarthur who knows, Arthur always likes her stuff and comments. maybe he doesn't like the boyfriend
oscarpiastri rue, when was this?
mcLaren_fan even Oscar doesn't know?
logansargeant get in line of who doesn't know
olliebearman mother?? pick up your phone please
maxverstappen1 what the kid said, pick the phone up
box_box_official and the plot thickens
change_ur_f-car y/n not picking up her phone and Arthur isn't in the likes, what is this silly season?????
Big Racer
It's Arthur
Isn't it??
Little Racer
who snitched
Big Racer
Kid, he looks at you like you hung the sun
It doesn't take much sleuthing to find out
Little Racer
Please don't tell
It's so new
And I don't want to risk it
Big Racer
My lips are sealed
But I do have one question
Do I need to give you the talk?
Little Racer
MAX!?
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19
#arthur leclerc x reader#f1 x driver!reader#platonic grid x reader#arthur leclerc fluff#arthur leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc fanfic#arthur leclerc#arthur leclerc x y/n#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 x reader
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TITLE: Table Manners and Bible Studies
PAIRING: Jeongin x reader
SUMMARY: Jeongin, a churchgoer who is also a very sexual person, likes to immerse both you and himself in the realm of sensory play, among other things as well.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: themes of BDSM centred around sensory play, soft dom Jeongin, explicit language, use of ice cubes, body-safe hot candle wax, a feather, blindfold, safe and consensual play, nipple stimulated orgasm, mentions of religion (no specific religion is being mentioned here but the concept is that Jeongin is religious for the purposes of this work).
MASTERLIST
He goes to church. That’s all you know about one of the guys in your class who always dresses well, dons cute glasses and seems well put together. He’s an intriguing one among the masses of students that attend and even with the volume of people, he still stood out to you even if he was quiet.
However, it was never in your interest to approach a guy like him. He and his four friends, all from the same church, seemed relatively lovely and all kept to themselves. From your perspective, it appeared as if two of the girls really liked him. If they did, you don’t blame them. Whoever he was seemed to be sweet.
“Still eyeing him up?” Your friend Minho pokes you in the ribs with his finger, lulling you out of your thoughts.
“I’m not eyeing him up,” you snap defensively, averting your stare away from his group to refocus on your lunch with him.
“Just say he’s hot,” he encourages. “If I’m willing to admit it, then you should.”
“You think he’s hot?”
“And you don’t?” He questions back, almost offended that you didn’t assume otherwise.
“I suppose that means something coming from a whore such as yourself,” you remember with a sigh.
Minho nods in agreement with your statement, “and as a whore, I’m telling you he’s hot. So why not go for him?”
“That’s not who I want though,” you say to him.
A cackle nearly breaks out from his mouth, “that’s right. So how is the hunt for one of those dom boyfriends going anyway? Isn’t that the type you’re looking for?”
“He doesn’t have to be, but it would help significantly,” you answer truthfully. “I just think that would be the best way to get my foot in the door for getting into BDSM.”
“I seriously don’t know where you got that idea from, but you don’t need to go searching for a boyfriend who’s into BDSM to get into it,” Minho truthfully informs you. “There are sites and apps where you can connect to doms and go from there. But if you do, don’t just jump at the first dom that you see. Always do background checks.”
You sometimes forget that Minho himself is in the BDSM scene. He has been for a while and for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve always been interested in what he does. From his stories, they sound exciting and riveting; exactly the kind of thing you want to try out to make your sexual life a little more lively.
“I know that,” you whine. “If not that, then I don’t really know where to begin.”
“Well, we all start somewhere,” he says with a hint of optimism. “Since you’re interested still, there’s a BDSM convention at the end of this week. If you want to get your foot in the door with it, I reckon you should go.”
“A convention?” You ask with intruigue. “What do they host there?”
“They’re there to promote safe BDSM to people and have a variety of pop up stores on site that sell anything related to it,” he answers. “I’m supposed to be going but, I’ve got something else on at the same time. In fact you can have my concession.”
“Are you sure?” You ask.
“Yeah, it’s already printed off,” he says. “I’ll give it to you on Thursday.”
It was a good idea at first, but come the day of the event, your nerves were shot. It was your first time being surrounded by anything like this. Particularly by yourself. It was a bit stereotypical to assume that the convention was run something along the lines of seeing naked people tied up, some in cages, or live scenes taking place in front of crowds.
That wasn’t the case at all. It was almost like a niche grocery store where the locals gather to buy homegrown fruit and veggies. Some part of that concept helped calm a few nerves.
Once you receive your concession band, you start around the front area of the pop-up stores. People were lining up to see demonstrations of shibari methods and most were interested in buying a series of items for the bedroom.
They were all displayed like sea creatures at a fish market, waiting to be bought. From cattail butt plugs, clover nipple clamps, juicy erotica novels - one of which you picked up - lengths of different coloured ropes, wooden floggers, riding crops, and so much more.
Away from all the chaos at the stalls was an area called BDSMC; BDSM and coffee. It was a way to set people up with potential doms and or subs. Each individual looking for a buddy would order a coffee or drink with a green cup that had either letter on it; D for dom or S for sub. Red cups were exclusively 'do not approach' because the person either didn’t want to engage or they may already have a partner and are just there for some good coffee.
It was an awesome set-up and had you thinking about heading over to maybe find someone who would be interested. However, you stored away that thought as you continued to have a look around.
One thing that was painfully obvious to you was the fact that people weren’t there by themselves. They were either there with a group or their partner, making you feel even more out of place and slightly overwhelmed. But you weren’t going to tap out early. Minho gave you his ticket not only because he couldn’t attend, but also because he wants you to experience what you’re looking for, for yourself.
So you scour out the stores under the guise of your own interest, coming across a few which struck that interest. There was one store tailored specifically to pain play, a heavy aspect of BDSM. Another stall had all to do with sexual health, consent and BDSM - not necessarily selling anything, but just there to answer any questions that people may have.
One place had caught you attention, a store all to do with sensory play and deprivation - a term in which you’ve came across within the realm of research into BDSM.
In nicely orgasnised lines were individual packets of silk blindfolds in a variety of different colours. There were boxes of body safe candles, most likely for temperature play, noise cancelling headphones, sleek metal handcuffs, and other items that had you wondering how they work.
“Hello, anything I can help you with or just browsing today?” One of the shop owners approaches you from behind the table.
“Oh, just browsing thank you,” you reply back to her.
“No worries, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles back at you and walks down to the other end of the long table.
“Hello, do you have any of these in black?” A person beside you asks to another store keeper.
Out of sheer interest, you briefly look up at the person just as an unspoken social acknowledgement while the owner tends to their new customer. But to your absolute shock and surprise, the person enquiring happened to be someone very familiar.
The jet black hair, distinct glasses, the trendy casual outfit...
…there was no way.
“We should do. I’ll have a look around in some of our storage containers just behind the back for you,” she says helpfully.
“Thank you,” the customer responds.
It was definitely him, and whilst your eyes had been glued to his presence for such a long time, his gaze catches onto it.
“Hey,” he spoke in a mousey volume.
You stall in your step a bit just as you were about to walk away to remain unknown, but the angelic purity in the tone of his voice lulled you back. You’d feel bad if you didn’t greet him too.
“Hey,” you say to him awkwardly. “How are you?”
“I’m good thank you, yourself?” He asks back.
“Yeah, good thanks. I know you, sort of. Aren’t you in my class?”
It was a useless question to ask considering you’ve spent too many times looking at him to know that it’s definitely him. That distinct soft expression couldn’t pass you by. The only thing different is that he wasn't swarmed by his usual collective of friends.
A small smile spreads on his face, “yeah. I’ve seen you here and there. You usually sit close to the front.”
“That’s right,” you nod, bewildered that he knows who you are and where you sit during class. “So…what brings you…here of all places?”
Jeongin shrugs with a smile, “interest. You?”
You nod, “also interest.”
The lady pops back from behind the screen with some items, “you might be out of luck. We’ve only got grey and white left but there’s a couples' one for you and your partner here.”
Your mind stutters upon hearing those words come out of the lady’s mouth, “oh he’s not - we’re not-“
“What about any more of these? Preferably in black as well?” Jeongin picks up a baby pink coloured blindfold and presents it to the woman. He seemed to have saved that awkward statement yet wasn’t entirely effected by it as you were.
“I’ll have a look around the back again and see if we’ve got anything,” she says, quickly rushing off.
“Sorry about that,” he says apologetically to her.
He was as nice as he looked. Almost like a gentle, placid puppy which makes you wonder, how is someone like him at one of these conventions. Specifically, someone who is quite religious. You didn’t want to judge right away, but that was the preface of your observation.
“I take it you’ve never been to one of these before,” he points out as he waits.
Your shoulders relax defeatedly, someone had finally ripped down your facade, “can you tell?”
“Just a little bit,” he grins. “But props to you for coming here on your own by the looks of it.”
“A friend of mine recommended I go so I thought I should,” you respond, eyeing up some of the other products.
He nods engagingly, “really? Why did they recommend it to you if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Just…looking to get into BDSM,” you reply honestly, feeling comfortable enough to talk to him about this. Plus there was no point in hiding your intentions given where you are now. “He said I should go to one of these events, check out the stores, and see how some of this stuff works I suppose.”
The lady returns from the back with exactly what he requested while also picking up a few extra things before paying for the lot. Your attention fixates on those items, wondering who he uses them on; a pyrex glass dildo, one tube of strawberries and cream flavoured lube, and also a ball gag
Whoever his partner is must be lucky.
The shopkeeper bags all of the items he paid for in a discrete bag before he thanks her.
“That's a good step, but if you’re a beginner, it’d be best for you to start out small,” he advises just an idea suddenly strikes him. He wonders for a second about whether or not it’s appropriate to ask, but he considers your circumstances and why you’re even here.
“I figured that. No point in me diving right into the deep end when I can’t swim yet,” you agree.
“You know, because we’re both here, we should get together sometime so we can talk about these kinds of things. I could show you how all of these work too if you want,” he pitches his suggestion to you, holding up the bag of things that he just purchased.
You stare up at him, utterly bewildered, “wait, are you serious?”
“Only if you are, otherwise-“
“No!” You cut him off. “I mean, yes - yes I am serious. It’s just, I was shocked that you even asked me.”
He stifles a chuckle as a reaction to you being so oddly yet unforceably cute, “alright then. I’ll give you my number. I’m Jeongin by the way.”
“Jeongin, okay. I’m Y/N.”
It was nice to finally put a name to a handsome face. Jeongin, who was as unsuspecting as the come, had exchanged numbers with you before you both departed. He left you wondering so much more about his personality and particularly his interests with BDSM. It even made you forget to text Minho to tell him how well the convention went.
Right before you decided that you were going to ring him, a text came through to you from Jeongin.
To you from Jeongin: ‘Hey Y/N, it’s Jeongin. It was nice meeting you the other day. I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over coffee to talk and get to know each other more. If so, when are you free?’
You to Jeongin: ‘Hey Jeongin, it was nice meeting you as well. I’m free in the afternoons throughout the week. We could go for coffee on campus after class if it’s not too far?’
Jeongin to You: ‘Nope, that’s perfect. Shall we say Monday straight after? We can head there together.’
You to Jeongin: ‘Sounds good to me. See you then.’
Jeongin to You: ‘Yup! :)’
With those responses from him in mind, it made looking forward to Monday a little more palatable. Usually, it’s hectic with quizzes, tonnes of readings, and a boring two hour lecture. Meeting up with Jeongin meant you had something to look forward to after class.
Just as the lecture comes to an end, you look back to the middle row of seats in the centre section of the room as you pack up your things and see Jeongin waving out to you. You wave back, acknowledging that you’ve seen him and watch him say bye to his friends before he makes his way down to you. A couple of them seemed rather puzzled that he was leaving them, but nonetheless, they let him be.
“Hey Y/N,” he says to you, walking down the steps. “What did you think of that?”
“Boring as per,” you groan. “It made me want to sleep.”
Jeongin laughed, “shall we go before you fall asleep then?”
The pair of you exited the theatre together and headed to one of the nearby cafes on campus. Normally teeming with hungry students, the venue wasn’t as packed as it usually is from the help of classes that run through into lunch. It meant that you and Jeongin were able to receive your drinks relatively quickly in order to sit down and start talking.
“How was your weekend?” He asks you.
You finish bringing your drink down from your lips, “not as exciting as I wished it had been. Mainly just catching up on some of the online work that we were meant to do.”
Jeongin is shaking his head but silently agreeing with you, “I don’t know why they bother giving us tasks to do online.”
“I suppose to make us suffer even more,” you guess.
“I think you might be right, and since it’s worth credit, we have no choice,” he snickers. “But anyway, on a completely different note, what did you think of your first BDSM event?”
“Not as daunting as I was expecting it to be,” you answer honestly. “It was pretty pleasant, to say the least, and the people I met were really nice.”
“That’s good to know,” Jeongin nods. “Usually I hear of beginners who get too overwhelmed and never come back. It’s a shame really because they only see the tip of the iceberg.”
“Do you normally attend those events?” You ask him, still immensely intrigued that he even went in the first place.
“Only when I can,” he responds. “Most of the time, classes and other stuff get in the way, but I’ve found a balance now. What made you want to get into BDSM anyway?”
“A friend of mine is well into that space and I always hear him talking about it. Since then it’s always interested me, so I started doing some research about it,” you answer. “It was the same person who told me to go to that event.”
“Smart choice for doing your research, not many people do and just head straight into something they don’t know,” Jeongin mentally applauds you. “It can turn out to be a really good or really terrible experience for beginners.”
“Yeah, he warned me about that,” you chuckle, just thinking of Minho and what he’s said to you in the past. “What about you? How did you get into BDSM? Sounds like you’re already in that space.”
“I am. I’ve been in it for four years, since the start of my degree,” Jeongin confirms adjusting his black glasses. “I got into it just by interest as well - similar to you, except, I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing someone who was already part of this space so some things I had to learn the hard way.”
“Then I take it that you’re relatively experienced then,” you respond, inferring an assumption already.
Jeongin smiles shyly, almost like he’s somewhat embarrassed by your comment, “you could say that. Is it right to assume that you’re looking for someone to do scenes with?”
You give a nod, “yes. Just…didn’t know who with.”
“That fits then; given that I have some experience and you haven’t yet, then maybe we do a trial, see if we click, those sorts of aspects. What do you think about that?” He asks you.
An excitement thumps against your chest, “I think that’s a good idea.”
“Yeah?” He replies with optimism. “Then if it’s okay with you, do you maybe want to talk about some of your kinks and things that you don’t like and organise a time and place for our first scene?”
“I’d love to.”
Both you and Jeongin brought a lot of ideas to the table, conducting a healthy discussion about what you’re both into and not. Although he openly stated to you that he mainly presents himself as a dom, he was open to switching too. However, for the purpose of getting you into the swing of BDSM, it would be best for him to take the reins.
So with a little more talking, you both came up with a set date and time for the first scene which was to be at Jeongin’s place; not too far from campus. All the information and the logistics leading up to the scene were slightly nerve-wracking but didn’t match your level of excitement.
Considering your inexperience with BDSM, Jeongin had to factor in what would be the best method of easing you into things. Sensory play was the one thing that came to mind. It’s not too extreme, can involve some restraints, and can act as a good stepping stone for a BDSM beginner.
“It’s a good way to start off,” Jeongin said to you back at the cafe. “If it’s just sensory play only, people don’t usually climax from it. But if there’s some sort of sexual penetration that’s involved, then most likely. I don’t do the latter.”
“Still sounds like fun,” you replied.
“It is. I can deprive you of one or more of your senses which will only enhance the other.”
His way of describing the basics of sensory play could’ve easily put you to sleep – not because it was boring, but because his voice was so silky smooth that you could listen to it all day. The fact that he has so much knowledge about a subject was strangely erotic.
With your mind cleared in preparation for the scene, Jeongin flicks you a text an hour beforehand to see if you are still keen. He definitely knows that you are, but it’s also to cover his end as a dom to ensure that you know that you can pull out of the scene before it starts.
To You from Jeongin: Hey Y/N, still on for tonight?
From you to Jeongin: ‘Hey! Absolutely, I’ll text you when I’m at yours?’
To You from Jeongin: ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
Even if you didn’t want to go through with it tonight, Jeongin would be okay with that. For whatever reason why you would say no, he’s happy that you would feel safe to refuse. But never in your wildest dreams would you ever think of refusing, because as soon as it was time to leave, there was no doubt in your mind that you would turn back.
You had showered and packed a bag with a towel, extra clothes in case, a water bottle, and some snacks. If anyone were to come up to you and look into your duffle, their only thought would be that you’re heading to a gym nearby, not heading to your first BDSM scene. It was a nice little secret to have.
As you arrive on the street of Jeongin’s apartment, you text him to say that you’re nearly there and knock on the door once you’ve officially made it.
“Hey,” he greets with his smiley usual self. “Come in.”
“Hey,” you respond, looking around as you step in.
It was rather spacious which is usually not generous with student accommodation. Normally it’s one room cramped with a desk, chair, inadequate storage underneath the single bed and a community bathroom down the hall. By the looks of it, Jeongin had all this space to himself including a small bathroom and mini kitchenette area.
“Wow, you got lucky with student housing around here.”
“Can’t stress the word ‘lucky’ enough,” Jeongin emphasises, closing the door behind you as you take your shoes off. “Took me about four months last year just to apply for a viewing. But after living in shared accommodation on campus, I needed my own space.”
“Fair enough,” you say. “Some student spaces are lucky enough to have wallpaper. But anyway.”
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” He offers. “I bought food earlier on.”
“No it’s okay thank you, I made sure to have some water and food before the scene,” you politely refuse.
“Okay, good,” Jeongin nods, impressed even. Those who forget to eat before a scene will often find that their energy depletes faster, rendering them unable to continue or even worse, it could go hand in hand with a sub drop. “Then in that case, shall we get started?”
Your stomach flips excitedly, “sounds good to me.”
Jeongin does the honours of leading you to his bedroom. It’s adorned with a minimalistic aesthetic and beautiful muted tones. There’s a decent queen-sized bed centred back against the wall. Laid on top of its surface is a black cardboard box and a set of black restraints right beside it in contrast with the white fitted duvet. Flickering on the bedside table burned a red candle.
From what you could gather, it was most likely for wax play, but it smelt amazing. Almost a woody with a tinge of floral essence to it that filled his room.
“We can start the scene by taking your clothes off and I’ll get these restraints ready, okay?” Jeongin suggests to you.
“Okay.”
He steps over towards the mattress, picking up the long restraints. Only two – one for each of your wrists that he was going to link to the bedposts. He secures the ends of them in place while you strip yourself down to your bra and underwear. You fold them over your arms as Jeongin returns to carefully take them from you and places them on his chair in the corner of the room.
He comes back once he’s done, eyeing up your body. It’s not that he meant to gawk or observe you per se, but he was in fact silently appreciating your body. He could only just hide the fact that he’s very taken with how you look and the way you pull off a simple black bra and underwear set.
It wasn’t lingerie, but they were intricated pieces. Jeongin seems to be aware of that when you feel him delicately glide his fingertips down the straps of your bra from behind while you stare into his mirror on the wall.
“This is is pretty,” he says.
You swallow quietly, content with his observation, “yeah?”
“Yes, but unfortunately I need it off for this scene. Is that okay with you?” He asks.
“That’s okay,” you reply clearly.
“Okay then, what’s your colour?”
“Green.”
With your given consent in mind, Jeongin works behind your back to unclasp your bra and places it with the rest of your clothes. It’s not an awkward moment for either of you given that it was nothing in comparison to the things he had planned for you.
“Beautiful,” he comments, his eyes lingering for a few seconds too long in the mirror. Your cheeks instantly become hotter, hoping Jeongin can just hurry up and put the blindfold over your eyes so you don’t have to look at him. “Let’s move to the bed. I’ll get you to lie down so I can put the restraints on your wrists.”
On his instruction, you make your way over to his bed after he moves the black box to the nightstand. You sit down on the mattress edge and prop your legs up until you’re able to lie down flat with your head on his pillow.
Jeongin slightly manoeuvres each of your arms before strapping your wrists into the restraints and for a couple of seconds there, you’re in your own mind. It still baffles you that you struck gold with Jeongin by absolute chance. Not to mention he’s the same person who attends church and goes to bible studies and is the same person who’s tying you to his bed.
“Not too tight?” He checks in with you.
“Nope, that’s fine,” you reply.
Jeongin takes the lid off of the box on the side and takes out the silk black blindfold he purchased from the convention the other day, “okay, I’m going to place the blindfold over your eyes now.”
You nod as total darkness shields you from the predictable. Now you can’t see what’s coming next. The excitement and anticipation hinder all nervousness you’ve been feeling while Jeongin takes a moment to appreciate the state that you’re in. It’s not often for him to be so taken with a person to the point where he just about forgets what he’s doing.
Only then does he realise that he’s in a scene and needs to refocus.
Once he’s content with everything, he decides to move on, “now we can start.”
He goes back to the box, careful not to make too much sound so that you can’t grasp a hint of what might be inside. The first item he picks up is a long, spindly black feather. It’s simple yet very effective, responsible for creating that ticklish sensation when he dances it lightly and softly along your skin. On its first contact, your nerves try to anticipate where Jeongin will take the feather next, but their guesses come up short when he uses it somewhere else.
The feather glides from the base of your throat, downwards and in between your tits. Jeongin then uses it to delicately lick over your nipple, making you keen slightly to one side. You can’t help but suppress a moan by biting down on your lip. It shouldn’t feel this good too early, but you can’t help your body’s natural reaction to the feather that leaves tingles in your muscles throughout its wake.
The smile on Jeongin’s face indicates that he’s enjoying watching you squirm and quietly whimper, still teasing you with the black plume. He drags it from the tips of your toes, up your shin, and right over your clothed pussy, making you press your head back into the pillow.
Jeongin makes a mental note of that reaction and smirks. To him, those small effects of what he’s doing to your body with only a feather, make him wonder how sensitive you really are. But it’s not his whole desire to spend too much time with it and proceeds to move on to something else; the hot wax.
After placing the previous item in the box, Jeongin swaps it for the candle. The catcher has collected a substantial amount of wax at the bottom which will allow him to pour the majority of it out before it starts to solidify. But Jeongin stalls for a moment as he tries to make up his mind on where to pour first.
In his opinion, he wants to cover all the sensitive parts that you’ll let him. Your tits, collarbone, throat, tummy, wherever. Eventually, however, he knows he’ll get to those places. So he starts with your tummy, watching the hot wax drip and dribble onto your skin, hardening as it makes contact.
A gasp is forced out of your mouth, “s-shit-“
“Too hot?” Jeongin asks you, pulling back the candle before he goes to pour again.
“N-No,” you shake your head fervently. “J-Just wasn’t expecting-"
Jeongin pours a steady line of wax in between your tits, prying your mouth open for slightly quiet yet strained moans to roll from the base of your throat.
He expects you to have some sort of reaction to the hot wax, but not like this. Usually, people try to escape from the head, some swear like sailors, and others might scream or yelp. You on the other hand…it makes him wonder if you’re a masochist with the way you’re moaning from the slight pain.
Nonetheless, he drips more wax, this time down your abdomen, forcing you to purse your lips to suppress any sound.
Despite the temperature of the thick content, your brain, for whatever reason, deduces it as a good sensation rather than a bad one. It does burn a bit, but not to the point where you feel like you need to call for a break. That feeling when it settles into the skin where it’s magnificent and warm is too good to pass up, allowing you to keep going.
With the session barely in full swing, you’re trying to keep it together for Jeongin so that hopefully he’d invite you back for another. Yet, within the second you even start thinking about that, Jeongin pours some of the wax, just about the line of your underwear, making you tug hard on the restraints.
“Fuck – oh my god,” you groan, feeling the heat emulsify within your lower half. It spreads beautifully, just where you want it. “That feels…”
“Good?” Jeongin asks, making your back arch slightly when he drips more wax from your sternum to just above your belly button. There are some areas that he won’t cover with the wax since he wants enough sensitive space for the next part of the scene.
“Y-Yes.”
Since Jeongin has some verbal confirmation from you that the heat feels good, his indication of pinning you for being a masochist grows stronger. It’s not abnormal, but it’s rare. Not everyone is a fan of pain and some even find it confusing when it’s applied in the bedroom.
That’s not Jeongin though. He appreciates pain and pleasure in a controlled environment. In saying that, he cannot make a full observation of whether or not you’re a full-blown masochist. He’d need to actually ask you first and run other ‘tests’ to achieve a result.
In light of the pain, Jeongin makes use of the little wax he has left, steadily pouring it onto the underside of your tits – close to where you want it. When there’s no content left at the bottom of the catcher, he moves on once more. This time, to a completely opposite temperature.
He sets the candle back down on the nightstand, leaving it to continue burning so that the aroma fills the room rather than smoke if he were to blow it out. You then hear his footsteps shuffling around to the other side of the bed, making you wonder what it is that he’s doing. But despite tuning your ears into his every movement, Jeongin makes sure to be as careful as he can to ensure that you don’t know what’s coming next.
The one thing that you hadn’t noticed in his room the second you walked in was a mini tin bucket of ice cubes on the other side of his bed. He gave away zero hints towards his next move, so when he quietly picked up one of the cubes and immediately placed it just above your tits, you suck in a huge gasp.
“Geez, I wasn’t ready,” you sigh out some of the anticipation that’s building inside of you.
Jeongin smiles, “good.”
The areas of your body that are free from the hardened wax allow him to glide the ice cube gently over your skin. The temperature in comparison to the wax is electrifying, more so than what you ever would have anticipated – had you known it was coming.
Jeongin watches the ice cubes melt from your body heat, seeing the droplets of water pool for a second and run down your sides. When the first cube has melted down completely, Jeongin picks up another. This time, he drags it slowly above the band of your underwear again.
“Mm! Fuck…” you exclaim loudly, trying to conduct the sensation when it only just builds. “S-Sorry.”
“You’re okay,” Jeongin reassures you.
He then brings the ice cube up to one of your nipples, causing you to arch your back and tug on the restraints simultaneously as a sharp gasp leaves your mouth. The corners of Jeongin’s mouth perk up at your reaction. He doesn’t want to be too predictable and switch to your other nipple. Instead, he manages to pick up another ice cube and uses it on your other nipple, dancing it around your sensitive buds that have begun to stiffen and perk up.
Your poor brain is confused by the stimulation. It’s not happening between your legs but you can feel it from your chest. It feels weird not to be contracting around anything, which only makes you wish you were. Nonetheless, it’s still valid stimulation that you feel building and at first, you’re not sure if it’s an orgasm that’s forming or if it just feels good.
Regardless of the matter, you can’t help it. It’s patterning the pleasure for you to experience without you having any say in it whatsoever. Your mind is muddled with what to say – how to express how you feel or what’s happening to your body.
Jeongin has some idea of it now that he’s been listening to you panting and watching you writhe on his bed just from a couple of ice cubes. However, he wants to see how this plays out.
“J-Jeongin,” you mumble, sucking in small breaths of air. “I’m…”
His ears spring up at the sound of his name, but he refrains from saying anything at all. Instead, he picks up another ice cube, allowing the one in his left hand to melt away before applying the fresh one. The chilly sensation replenishes but it doesn’t stop that sensation that you can feel in your tits all the way through to your pussy. Even though it feels similar to an orgasm, it triggers zero verbal response when it decides to hit you out of nowhere.
Jeongin sees your mouth part, your legs bracketing together like they’re trying to find something to clamp around. All the while, he doesn’t stop stimulating your nipples with the cubes until your back is flat on his bed again. He had to see it through to the end.
Breathless and slightly dazed as you were, the first thing that came to mind was that you did in fact cum. Following that came anxiously wondering what Jeongin’s reaction was.
At that, an invisible weight of embarrassment starts tugging you down. You wanted the blindfold to remain over your eyes, terrified of meeting whatever expression was laden on Jeongin’s face. There was no point in trying to gauge how he reacted when you orgasmed, but there was one thing for sure and that was he didn’t stop you from doing it.
A few lingering moments later, Jeongin becomes satisfied with the tail end of the scene. He got through the aspects of sensory play that you both wanted to cover from the conversation you had at the beginning of the week.
He gently removes the silk blindfold from your eyes, fixing some of your hair in the process to get it out of your eyes. Even though your eyes shy away from his face, Jeongin can easily see the deep red burning through your cheeks.
“I’ll get these off for you,” Jeongin murmurs, already freeing one of your wrists from the restraint before moving on to the other.
Once you’re completely unrestricted, you sit up straight away and start blabbing out an explanation to him.
“Just so you know, I didn’t have other intentions going into this,” you speak quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting to…to-“
Slightly taken aback, Jeongin had to step in to reassure you that there’s nothing wrong, “Y/N, it’s okay, seriously. It’s not your fault that your body couldn’t help but do what it needed to. But you’ve just come out of a scene and I want to make sure that you’re ok-“
“Yes but, you said the other day that people don’t usually climax from sensory play only,” you interrupt him.
He softens a bit, a small grin forming on his face, “I said ‘usually’ not ‘never’. I didn’t rule out that possibility.”
You suddenly click onto his words, “so there is a possibility that they still can.”
“Yes, but you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about or sorry for. Some people can orgasm through nipple stimulation. It’s not always easy, but you managed to do it, with ice too, and relatively fast. Plus, I thought it was cute,” he responds.
‘Cute?’ If melting from embarrassment was a thing, you’d be a puddle all over his floor. Your face comes to fall into your hands, almost making him giggle.
Jeongin then continues, “now, if you’ll let me help you, I’ll show you to the shower to get some of the wax off. Then we can have some of that food I was talking about earlier.”
-
A/N: again, this was meant for Kinktober but my dumb ass didn’t upload it. I’m turning this into a bit of a slow burn series, but not just yet because I’m working on other things atm as listed down below:
1. Noxious Compulsions
Minsung x reader (you can find the snippet here)
2. Foul Play
Part 2 to Don’t bite the hand that feeds you
3. Venom Eater
Part 2 to Venom Biter
4. Some things are better left known
Part 2 to ‘Some things are better left unknown’
These are the main pieces that I’m working on at the moment bc they will be quite dense, and I try to add as much detail in as I can. However, there are 100% other things that I have still sitting in my Doc’s folder that I’ll release too!
#rosiewritesskz#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know smut#han jisung smut#bang chan smut#hyunjin smut#changbin smut#felix smut#i.n smut#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#i.n x reader
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Boiling point
After weeks of holding himself together and setting clear boundaries, only for them to be broken over and over again, MC snaps.
tags. male mc, post-lesson 16, belphie is his own trigger warning, angst, ptsd, mild violence, hurt and comfort.
notes. i don't want therapy, i want revenge. everyone got over belphie killing us way too quickly, and i find it frustrating. you know what would be really fun? to punch belphie. love him, but the amount of serotonin he would bring into my life if i could just… punch him once. a boy can dream.
Dying and somehow living to tell the tale was not exactly in your plans when you decided to help the demon stuck in the attic.
Sure, you knew it was dangerous and sure, you understood it was a gamble. But you never quite got that your life was at stake until you felt Belphegor's cold grip around your neck and your vision started to get fuzzy at the edges.
Oh, you thought, with startling clarity.
I'm going to die.
You may still be here, but no, you did not survive Belphegor's wrath and hurt. The sensation of phantom hands pressing down your throat never quite left you.
And Belphegor is nothing but a cruel reminder of the night you died.
First, comes the terror. Even with the pact to protect you, in the days following the event, you can't help but freeze every time Belphegor is in the same room.
As you get used to his presence around the House of Lamentation, as he insists in siting next to you during breakfast and in holding your arm on your way to class, the terror slowly subsides, opening way for a different, less familiar feeling.
Annoyance. Anger. Borderline rage.
Who does he think he is?
Who does he think we are? Best friends, family?
“Belphegor…”, you call for the demon that's already laying on top of your lap, with a tense smile hanging from your lips.
This week's movie night was held in your room. It was one of the rare occasions in which all the inhabitants of the House of Lamentation were present. Even Lucifer is here, looking comically out of place, regal and all seriousness, as if he were in the middle of a meeting and not watching a three-hour-long romance anime film.
Mammon got off from his “rightful place” (“DIBS”, the demon of greed shouted as soon as you sat down, throwing himself across your lap), to rip the remote control out of Levi's hands, who kept rewinding the same scene over and over again (“It's really important for the plot!!!”).
And in the middle of the squabble, Belphegor appeared out of nowhere to climb into your lap, and just. Cuddle.
At your call, he looks up and blinks lazily at you, with his big eyes and his messy bedhead. And the image should be endearing, really, but your chest feels cold, and you can feel your limbs locking in place. You feel trapped, uncomfortable. Ah, it's fear.
“I need. A bit of space. Could you sit somewhere else?”, you manage to let out, and your voice is the only sound in the room. Quarrel and movie long-forgotten, everyone is watching the two of you. Beel was the one who took over and put the film on pause.
Belphegor blinks the drowsiness out of his eyes. His brow furrows, just a little, and if anything, he looks put off by the question, a little lost.
“I don't want to sit anywhere else. I know Mammon was here just seconds ago, but I'm a better cuddle-partner than him anyway. You can ask anyone.”
And he doesn't move. He lays his head against your chest with a yawn.
“I don't…” want to be close to you. You stop yourself from uttering those words, mindful and considerate, truly doing your best. You don't want to lie either, so you decide to play around with the phrasing. “I'd rather you gave Mammon his place back. Or, you know what? I can change seats myself.”
Your tone is as lighthearted as you can manage, and you start to get up from the couch, with Asmo, who's sitting next to you, moving out of the way to give you the space that you need. The space you very specifically asked for.
But Belphegor's weight is heavy against you and traps you in place. Not only that, but his hand reaches for your arm and pulls, looking at you with the same bewildered expression as before, genuinely confused. When you fall against the couch, still under him, you're reminded of how strong he is. Of how weak you're in comparison.
“Oi, Belphie. No one is better at cuddles than me”, says Mammon after a too long pause. “And of course he wants to be with the great Mammon, everyone does. Now move, we still have, like, two hours left of the movie and if we don't finish it tonight, Levi is going to complain all week.”
Levi, who would normally jump into the conversation to defend himself, is barely visible, half hidden between Beel and Satan. His eyes dart between you and the hand that's holding your arm.
“Well, we are already so comfy, so I won't get up”, you wonder who “we” is. Belphegor talks lazily and moves the hand that isn't holding you in a dismissing manner, as if this was not more than a bothersome request, interrupting his nap for nothing.
Your teeth grind together, and there it is, once again. The ugly pressure that holds your gut in a tight grip, the heavy discomfort in your throat. Once foreign, but now you can tell it apart so easily. Anger.
“Belphegor. You heard him already.” This time, Lucifer is the one talking, and he sighs as he gets up, coming closer in an attempt to pry him away from you.
“Oh, please.” Belphegor rolls his eyes, clearly irked by Lucifer's intervention. “We are okay. Right?”, he looks back at you, and this time around his voice is filled with doubt, bordering hopeful, searching for something in your eyes.
“We aren't.” At last, you say it, flatly, and it comes out sharper than you intended, if the way Belphegor flinches and Asmo whimpers is any indication. You're tired, what little patience you have left is quickly running out thanks to the stubborn remarks and your words falling on deaf ears. “Let me move.”
The demon on your lap has the gall to look affronted, hurt. His bewildered expression does nothing more than increase the feeling already boiling deep within you. You can feel Satan's eyes boring in your cheek, but you refuse to look at him.
“Hey… Relax”, Belphegor mutters, now looking a little concerned too. For you. He's worried about you, and yet he still won't get up. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”
What's wrong.
What's wrong?
You're so taken aback by the question that by the time you react, his hand is already on its way to hold your cheek.
The most violent of flashbacks comes through you, a whiplash that hits you with the force of a truck. His handprints on your neck, trying to catch your breath, feeling cold all over, with the only warmth coming from your own blood ringing loudly in your ears, flowing right next to his voice, so full of hatred.
You can't freeze this time around, you need to move, you need to run, you need to do something, anythi--
“Belphie, I don't think you sh--” Satan tries to warn him, but it's too late.
By the time Belphegors fingertips touch your cheek (and this time they're warm, not dead-cold, you notice with surprise) your fist is already hitting against his nose, punching him right in the middle of his face, with a force you didn't even knew you had in you.
Not that you've ever done it before, but you can imagine this is what it feels like to hit a wall. Your hand hurts and goes numb.
The impact pushes Belphegor against the cushions, his hands flying to cover his nose. And any other day it would have been impossible, your punch would never land (he's that much faster, that much stronger), but right now he was so worried about you, so desperate to stick by you. His guard was as down as it will ever be.
His nose is bleeding, you notice, at the same time as Asmo gets up with a gasp. Levi shrieks in the background, and Mammon let's out this weird noise, a mix between one of his “Oi”, your name, and a scream.
Everything stands still, and, to your credit, you're just a shocked as everyone else.
With the punch, all anger has left your body, and now you're just a bunch of nerves, looking at Belphegor with big eyes. Belphegor looks back at you, so shocked, and you suddenly feel like crying. Oh, how much you hate being an angry-crier.
Satan is the one that breaks the silence, with a heavy sigh. “Told you so.”
Beel comes next, taking two steps in your direction but stopping when you raise your palm. You're trembling, but you come close to Belphegor all the same, refusing to back down.
“Asshole.” It's the first thing you say, and defying the impossible, Belphegor's eyes grow even wider as you tower over him, kneeling on the couch.
“Are you deaf? Wasn't I clear enough? Loud enough?”, and when you raise your fist in the air, Lucifer approaches, but all you do is gently punch Belphegor's chest. Again and again. “I told you to move. Several times. And still, you didn't. I was… I was dying of fear, and you weren't moving.”
“You, inconsiderate shit.” Punch. “You, deaf moron.” Punch.
“You… Stubborn cow.”
Belphegor has let the blood simply flow across his face, and now he's kneeling in front of you, holding his own hands, the same surprised look on his face.
And that's that.
You let your arms fall with a groan and simply sigh. For Diavolo, violence really isn't for you, you are so tired.
“S-Should we separate them?” Levi asks in a trembling voice, frantically waving his hands, unable to decide whether to approach or flee.
“No. He has more to say.” Satan gently holds Levi's wrists, and waits.
That's when you realize that yes, you got more to say. In fact, you've had something to say for way too long, and now you're dying to get it off your chest.
“I gave you my trust, and I knew I was being childish and reckless in doing so, but all I wanted was to help. I cried for you, I felt for you, and I did everything I could to be by your side even though all I had to offer was just. Just me. Mortal, human. And in response, you killed me.” Belphegor recoils at your words, but you go on.
“It hurt. It still hurts, even now. Sometimes I see you and all I can think about is your betrayal.”
Belphegor looks down, biting his lips, in silence. You can see his hands shaking, and you remember your talk under the stars, his eagerness when he offered you a pact. When he gave you the control you needed. His hands were shaking back then, too.
With a groan, you reach out to hold his chin, lifting his face. You take the long sleeve of your pajamas and begin to wipe the blood running down his chin, across his lips. Slowly, with care.
Your fingers run through his hair just to be able to look directly into his eyes. He looks anxious, fearful, and you know that your next words have the power to break or mend his heart.
So you decide to, once more, open yours and leave the rest in his hands.
“I don't hate you. And this isn't me cutting our ties. I understand your pain, I really do. Please, understand mine.”
Your thumb caresses over his forehead. Carefully, gently.
“I need time. I'll let you know when I'm ready.”
Belphegor inhales and exhales deeply, holding your gaze. Slowly, but surely, he takes your hand between his, from his forehead to his lips, leaving the lightest of kisses against your palm. You feel the pact mark that binds you together tremble and sing.
“I'm sorry. For the pain, for my insistence, I just… Wanted to be close. I need to be close. I'll wait for you.”
Straightforward as ever. But you are struck by the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, and this time around it takes you no more than a second to nod.
“Right. Be good and wait for me.”
Unable to resist, you pat his head, just as you would to a small, rebellious child. He's the baby of the family, after all. He groans, and you laugh, feeling so much lighter. And unbelievably tired.
By the time you remember that you're not alone in the room and turn around to placate the others, you make eye contact with Satan.
He's looking prouder than ever, the little smile on his lips telling enough. “Go on”
The brothers needed no further prompting to launch themselves at the two of you, a jumble of limbs and shrill voices.
“MC, that was, as usual, reckless. From now on, fist fights are forbidden in and out of the house. Evade further conflicts.”
“B-But wasn't MC so cool?!?! Belphie is so much stronger, but he was down with one punch! W-way too op, MC!!”
“Oi! Human, how dumb can ya be?! Tell me before you go around punchin' demons, I can punch them for ya!”
“I knew you were good at controlling your anger, but I never imagined that much. You are full of surprises.”
“Belphie, gosh, your clinginess finally got you in trouble, mh? Your surprised face was so cute! Do you need concealer?”
“Belphie, does it hurt? Do you need ice? We have popsicles in the freezer… Wait, I ate them all yesterday, sorry Belphie… Do you want me to go and buy more? MC, which flavor would you like?”
“We are good, Beel.” Belphegor answers, still looking at you. “Right?”
You laugh at his not-so-subtle search for assurance, and your chest feels astonishingly full. “We will be, for sure.”
Movie night turns right into a sleepover after that, as every single one of the demon brothers refuses to leave your room. Lucifer might roll his eyes, but he still settles on your couch, right next to Satan.
And for the first time in weeks, you're able to close your eyes and rest, feeling safe and at home.
ao3 ― writing tag
#bloodynectarine#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me angst#obey me belphegor#obey me male mc#obey me male reader#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me asmo#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#obey me hc#obey me x reader#obey me lesson 16#belphegor x mc#obey me brothers#belphegor obey me#lucifer obey me#mammon obey me#satan obey me#levi obey me#asmodeus obey me#beelzebub obey me#obey me mc
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The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader
MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author's Note: This chapter is a tad shorter, my apologies. I almost didn't finish it cause my meds started to make me feel real gross tonight, but I managed! I am determined and powerful and strong 💪
Cross posted on AO3
Session 4: Adding Details
Ever since the last painting session with Leon a few days ago, he's been a lot more lively. He jokes more, laughs more, and flirts a lot more. Specifically with you.
It's only been a couple hours into the next session and he's already called you 'sweetheart' five times. You counted. Hard not to when the man decides to put on the most seductive tone to say it, honestly.
You've begun to reciprocate Leon's flirting since clearly he's not one to hide what he's after.
"Alright Romeo, I need you to stay still and in position for just a few minutes longer. I don't think you want me to accidentally paint you with those goo-goo eyes." Watching his poorly hidden panic made you giggle, his eyes averting to somewhere to the right. "Actually I need you to keep your eyes up here, not over there."
Leon groaned and rolled his eyes before turning them to look back at the spine of the easel, doing his best to hold a lax expression. "You're making this difficult. You have the picture!" He complained, eyebrows raising as he gestured to the stand sitting next to you.
"Yeah but- sit still- you're making the same goofy look in it like you were before." Once he resumed his position, you walked over to him from the easel to get a closer look at his expression, humming softly all the while. Leon was beginning to sweat, mostly due to having to sit still for as long as he had but now partially from your sudden proximity.
After getting a good look, you walked back over to the easel to continue painting, to which he let out a small sigh. He wanted to get to know you more, he should've tried that before you started the actual painting, but better late than never.
The man kept quite for roughly thirty minutes longer while you added smaller details to his face on the canvas, using probably the thinnest paintbrush he's ever seen.
"Is that thing even adding paint to the portrait? Or are you just pretending to get me to sit here longer?" There was that suggestive tone again, and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you as they began to strain, but you could've swore he did that cheesy eyebrow wiggle at you.
You shook out your arm to give it a good stretch before placing it back where it was. "It's doing something. Don't get your panties in a bunch."
Leon threw his head back with a laugh at your response, causing you to give him a quick glare before huffing out your annoyance. "Alright, clearly you're growing antsy. Let's take a short break." You stood up from the swivel chair and rolled your shoulders back, cleaning off your paintbrush with the solvent sitting next to you in a small mason jar. You had a couple of the windows open due to the fumes of the paint and solvent, so no worries there.
"Thank god..." Leon stood up with a loud and exaggerated groan. He wasn't young anymore, holding even a relaxed position like that was hard work on the body. "Thought I was gonna lose my legs." The dramatics this man possessed was funny, you had to admit.
"It's not that bad and you know it." You set down the paintbrush and turned around to see him mocking you with his hand. "Do I need to circle back to calling you a toddler? Cause I will."
Leon used the hand he was mocking you with to wipe across his eyebrow before letting his arm fall back to his side. "There's no need for extremes." Your lazy eyebrow raise at his response was all he needed to immediately follow up with "Sorry, ma'am."
It didn't sound genuine, but you'll take it. You nodded before walking over to the bathroom, scrubbing the paint from your hands to the best of your abilities. You had to use dish soap since oil paint was hard to wash off, that oily sheen was a pain in the ass when trying to hold a paintbrush.
The painting was really starting to come along. You worked fast while still remaining diligent. Oil paints were difficult to use, needing extreme patience due to how slowly it dried, how easily it could smear, and how hard it was clean off. No matter how nice you wanted to dress for Leon, you had to wear your painting outfit: A designated cheap and oversized outfit you picked out years ago for the sole purpose of taking a beating. You would wipe off your paintbrushes onto it to avoid having to use a paper towels or a rag each time.
Regardless, you were still as cute as ever to Leon. In fact, seeing you care so much about your work to be covered in paint was only making him fall for you more. Oversized clothes looked real good on you, so good that he'd been busy thinking about how you'd look in his clothes, hence that nearly blissed out expression you had to snap him out of earlier.
You both decided to sit over in the living area, Leon splayed out across the soft rug to give his joints a rest. He'd gotten a good look at how the painting was coming along before assuming his spot on the rug.
It was non-stop compliments from him. You could handle compliments, you've heard so many over the years regarding your art, but Leon's compliments were different. Instead of only complimenting the art, he decided to slip in little comments about you directly along side them.
"I went back to the White House over the weekend to look at the other portraits you'd done..." He started, head resting on his arms as they laid behind his head. "Just to get a feel for how mine would look once it's done."
"Is it living up to the standard so far? There's quite a bit more that needs to get done, and then it has to dry." You looked down at him on the rug, massaging your hand so it didn't cramp up more than it already had. "There's no standard for you to live up to, sweetheart. You could draw a stick figure and I'd be blown away."
You laughed at the suggestion, turning your head to look out one of the large windows to try and hide your smile. Wooing a painter was easy, apparently.
"You're just full of little accolades, aren't you, Mr. Kennedy?" You sighed, resting your chin in your hand as your elbow sat on your thigh.
"I can't help it. Being painted by such a pretty girl brings out the worst in me." Never in all your years of being alive had someone worked so hard to flatter you. Every single comment he made included something that had you flustered and struggling to respond.
Leon sat up on his elbows and looked over at you, that smirk as clear as day. He loved the way you could barely handle yourself at his compliments. "What're you thinkin' 'bout over there, angel?"
You let your hand fall into your lap as you looked back at him, giving his smirk a soft smile in return. "I could ask you the same question, calling me all these nicknames and such." It was only fair of you to ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
A little caught off guard, Leon hummed and pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. What was he doing, exactly?
"Well, whaddya think I'm doing?" Yeah, that was good. Instead of answering himself, he'll just drag it out of you. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're flirting with me." Your smile turned a bit more mischievous as you leaned towards him.
"Well, you'd be absolutely right, then." He responded with a chuckle, lowering his volume so he could fall right back into a seductive tone. "I got lucky enough to get my own painting. Even luckier to have you be the one painting me."
You gave him a small "mhm" as you nodded your head slowly, your tongue peaking out to wet your bottom lip as you listened to him talk. It took awhile, but eventually you managed a reply. "So... what exactly are you looking to do with all that sweet talk, hm?"
"Take you out on a date." His response was fast and it caught you off guard. Leon was so forward with what he wanted. When it came to the few people you'd dated in the past, you had to practically drag any sort of info from them. Your silence had brought him to sit all the way up now, body facing you as he sat with his legs crossed. "Is it working at all?"
It took a couple more seconds for you to nod, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you giggled. "Yeah, I think it is. Might need to keep it up just in case, though."
"Bummer, now I get to distract you even more while you paint me?" You stood up and placed your hand flat on his face, gently pushing his head back as you walked past him. "I'll paint on you if you distract me."
The session lasted a total of five hours, pausing for a couple breaks in between. You were now thoroughly painted out; hand cramping, eyes straining, and even with the windows open the smell of the paint and the solvent to clean it off the brushes had given you a slight headache. Leon was definitely tired also, given he actually fell asleep in the chair.
You decided to call it a day at that, patting him on the shoulder to wake him. "Time to get up and take your meds, old man." Leon startled awake, sucking in a harsh breath through his nose as he reoriented himself. When did he fall asleep?
You had already walked into the bathroom to wash your hands off, giving him the opportunity to wake up enough to stand. He yawned, walking over to look at how far along you'd gotten.
The painting immediately pulled him from his sleepy state, eyes widening with shock. You said you still had quite a bit left to do and it looked like this? It was like you'd ripped this straight from the 17th century. Leon was in awe. He looked good in this- no, far better than good. You'd captured his likeness better than the photo.
Seeing the man staring at your painting with his jaw dropped after walking out of the bathroom made you smile. "You like it?" You asked quietly while shaking your hands out as you hadn't dried them off all the way.
"No, I love it. You've got magic in those hands of yours, sweetheart." Leon crossed his arms, walking over to stand right in front of you. You clicked your tongue at him before your hand in front of him dismissively. "I wouldn't say it's magic, just years of drawing and painting endlessly until I got to the spot I wanted to be."
Leon closed his eyes and shook his head playfully, chuckling as he did so. "So humble of you." He followed you back over to the easel, watching you cover up the paints you were using with curious eyes. "About that date..."
You cocked an eyebrow, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you continued to carefully cover your paints. "What about it?"
"Just wondering when and where you'd want to go." The man grinned at you lazily, doing his best to disguise how nervous he actually was. "Hmm.." You glanced over at the wall clock you had sitting far above the light switches next to the entrance door, taking note of how late it was. "I'm pretty tired and I'm sure you are too, but how about we order something to eat here?"
Leon seemed surprised by your suggestion, grin widening as he nodded vigorously. "Plus, I am not going out looking like I just got assaulted with a paintball gun."
The two of you decided on something easy; pizza and soda. Leon opted to wear one of your many aprons to avoid getting any grease on his suit which made for an easy joke about him being a house-husband. Even though it was a technically a first date, both of you felt so comfortable with each other already, like you'd known each other for years. It was strange, but in a good way.
Leon was easy to get along with once he opened up. He really was a charming guy, even managing to get you to laugh with those corny ass dad jokes he loved so much. How such a man had gotten away with being single for so long baffled you.
The same went for you. Leon felt like you being single was just a fluke. There was no way someone as talented and gorgeous as you hadn't been swept off your feet yet. It was selfish of him for thinking it, but fuck was he ecstatic about that.
It was about 11pm when the two of you decided to call it a night, the hours spent bonding over random, seemingly meaningless stuff had really loosened both you and Leon up.
"Am I able to come back tomorrow and see you?" Leon asked in such a soft voice, motorcycle helmet in hand as he the other rested up against the doorway leading out of the building. He felt vulnerable for wanting to see you again like this.
"I won't be here tomorrow, need to give my hands a bit of a break." You giggled quietly, holding your palm out in front of him for emphasis. "But I can give you my address if you want to visit. I don't mind."
Those butterflies in his stomach fluttered at your proposal, barely able to nod after feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket once you texted him your address. He tried to act confident, having gone over every scenario possible in his head, yet you'd gone off script and he wasn't quite sure what to do anymore.
Seeing how flustered he'd become, you waved him closer, smiling as he bent over slightly. Leon thought you were gonna whisper something to him, that thought alone had him blushing, but feeling the gentle press of your lips against his had him struggling to breathe. He barely had a chance to react before you pulled away, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.
You reached up and gently patted his cheek, running your hand along the stubble that had started to grow back. "Let me know when you wanna come over tomorrow, alright? Give me a little time to get dressed. I've looked ratty enough around you."
Leon wanted to protest that statement, you were far from ratty, but you just shushed his stuttering and nudged him out the door, giggling as he stumbled down the steps. He kept turning his head back to look at you every couple steps, feeling like some lovesick teenage boy who couldn't get his feet to work.
He was a little scared to drive home considering how uncoordinated he felt, but he made it back in one piece. Once sat on his bed, all he could think about was you and that damn painting. Leon didn't know what he was expecting when it came to that, honestly, but you seriously outdid yourself in his eyes.
Then you just had to flirt back with him, agree to a little date, and kiss him? Do you even know how hard it was to hide his boner from you?
He really did feel like a teenage boy, a simple kiss having him harder than a rock. Not to mention the drive home was uncomfortable since he had to position himself just right on the seat or else the constant vibration from his motorcycle would seriously cause him to crash.
Leon was weak. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time, but he guessed the newfound attraction came with the subconscious acceptance of his retirement. It's what made sense in his head.
God did he want you, masturbating in the shower to you wasn't enough, he needed you. All he could think about was your soft hands touching him, his hands all over your body, maybe even those pretty eyes of yours looking into his as he loved on you all night long.
The age gap was a bit of a worry to him in the beginning, mostly being insecure about his own age, but that worry was quickly brushed off when you kissed him tonight. You were a big girl. You knew what you wanted.
Leon felt so lucky that you reciprocated. All he'd felt since his retirement was grief, guilt, and pity for himself. Now you had him feeling like he was on top of the world and he couldn't ask for anything more. This little bit of sweetness in his life was so enticing, and of course he was going to follow it for as long as you'd let him.
#daily dose of dilf#he's not a dad in this#but that doesn't mean he's not a dilf#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil#leon s kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon x reader#leon kennedy fanfic#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy fic#leon s kennedy x fem!reader#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy x fem reader#resident evil death island
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Committed to you - Manjiro >Mikey< Sano
(part two)
Idea/ prompt: Mikey from the last timeline who wants to propose to us but has no idea how to ask so he ask advices from draken and emma
Vixen's two cents: Hi. I know ive been gone for like 2 weeks, I dont know why but it's been hard writing lately. anyway, thanks a million to @anahryal for giving me this idea whilst I was in the pits of my writers block!!! thanks girl, I can't tell you how much this helped. anyway, REQUESTS ARE OPEN and I advise you to use them! now please enjoy my revival piece!
Mikey has thought every possible thought he could have. He had run through every possible situation, every possible outcome, every possible setting, but damnit why was this so hard? He couldn’t do it. Not for the life of him.
He had browsed millions of travel blogs, pondering about every possible spot on earth to take you for the occasion. He had woken in and out of more jewelry stores in the past month than he had ever in his entire life. He had specifically stood in corner stores, reading the wedding catalogues in the magazine section trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.
None of it helped.
Manjiro wanted it so bad. So so very bad. Every white dress he walked by, he envisioned you in it. Every bakery shop he passed, his eyes flitted up and down the fancy display cakes, pondering whether or not it would be good enough. Any time he woke up next to you, every time he joined you in the shower, every time he watched you cook, the urge to sink to one knee overtook him.
He knew he couldn’t make it that simple though. It was too domestic for him, so little of a gesture. He wanted you to know that he loved you, that he would bring you the moon if you wanted it. He needed you to see just how much he appreciates you for sticking with him through everything, and for that he needs a grand gesture.
However it seemed that nothing he could think of was quite big enough, quite meaningful enough, quite heartfelt enough. He was at the end of his wits. For one and a half months- seven weeks he had been fighting this battle alone.
He had made some progress in that time, having picked the ring because when he picked it up he just felt that this was the one. It was a niche store, and he was initially appalled by the average price of the rings, but decided, ah what the fuck? and entered the store for mostly shits and giggles. He was greeted by an expensive looking elderly gentleman who donned a monocle and silk gloves, clearly the clerk, and clearly an expert. He had the longest, most engaging talk with the man, explaining his situation and his frustrations, to which the man nodded understandingly and told of his own story and experience with marigge.
Seven long weeks he had kept it a secret from everyone, and now he couldn’t take it anymore.
He was just about to throw the towel on this whole thing and say fuck it and give up on this whole marriage thing and just accept that he would never make it, when he remembered that he didnt have to be alone in this. Not at all matter of fact. His best friend married his sister after all. If Ken could do it with the pressure of Shinichiro, Izana AND Mikey breathing down his neck, then surely he could do it too, right?
You were out on a girls night with Hinata, Senju and Yuzuha. Emma would have tagged along normally too, but with the addition of a new-born baby, she decided that it would be best to sit out this time. Either way you were out of the house for the night, and Mikey was left to his own devices. You had left him with a kiss and a home-cooked meal (which he felt bad about leaving behind so he completely stuffed himself before coming here) before he gave Ken a quick heads up over the phone that he was coming over with a VERY important problem.
Thats how he found himself here. Standing in the Kitchen of Emma and Ken‘s flat, hands perched on the counter, looking down at the surface, face in a deep frown. „What’s goin on? What’s the problem?“ Ken asks roughly, leaned on the refrigerator as he eyed his friend. Mikey didnt really respond though.
„What problem?“ Emma‘s voice was hushed as she entered through the kitchen door, pulling the door shut behind her, probably for the sake of the baby. „I dont know.“ Ken responded, rubbing his eyebrows „Ask your brother.“ he sighed as he gestured to Mikey who was still staring down the counter.
“Mikey?!” Emma sounded confused and a little concerned as she turned to look at him, eyes flitting between her brother and her husband. “Did you know he was coming over?”
Ken nodded wordlessly. “Said he needs our help about something.” Emma’s head tilted in question but accepted the fact. “What’s up Mikey?” She asked, approaching him and joining Draken at the other side of the counter.
Mikey didn’t say anything though, instead reaching into his pocket and producing a small, black, silk-encased box. He dropped it onto the table and looked up at the couple in desperation. “How do I do it?”
Ken gasped and felt his lips tug into a smile, happy that finally, finally Mikey was wiping you up (he had told him to do so since they were teens).
Emma slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle a silent scream, beginning to voice up and down on excitement as she realized- her brother was marrying you! She thanked the gods that Mikey fell in love with you because there was no better in-law than her Soulsister.
“Ahhhhh! Oh my goodness Mikey! I’m so happy for you! Can I see? Wow! Oh my god Ken are you seeing this!? He’s proposing! Ah I’m so glad!” Mikey nodded in response and let Emma pick up the box and crack it open, revealing the beautiful white-gold wedding band, encrusted with more diamonds than she could count. Notably, one large diamond sat in the middle of the ring, flanked by two smaller diamonds on each side.
“Oh.” Emma breathed. “Ken why didn’t you ask Manjiro for help when picking my ring?” Emma sounded slightly offended as she spoke, glaring down at the ring.
“Nah nah, don’t get it twisted girl. You told me what ring you wanted, I didn’t have much picking liberty other than the price.” Ken waved his hands in dismissal, brushing off her accusations with a grin still wide on his face. He made his way over to Mikey and clapped a hand on his shoulder, congratulating him for the occasion.
“Good on you man! Finally givin it the push, hah?” Ken was smiling as he searched for Mikey’s eyes, but he didn’t look up. “What’s up with the long face? You’re about to propose dude, you should be over the moon!”
Mikey sighed and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to propose to her for months. Months Ken. I can’t do it. It’s never right.”
The couple halted their celebrations and turned to look at Mikey again, Emma putting down the dainty box as her looks turns to one of concern. “What do you mean?” She fingered at the box as she leaned across the counter.
“It’s… i don’t know. Ken made it look so easy when he proposed to you, and Pah-chin was even more mindless about it! I really want to. I really do, but every time I get close, I chicken out because I get scared or because something isn’t right, and I’m starting to think that it’s better if I just… don’t.” Mikey sighed and cradled his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the counter.
Emma and Ken shared a look, a wordless exchange of worry and empathy. "What kind of proposal were you thinking of? Big? Small? Public? Private?" Emma started, hand rubbing soothingly across her brother's back.
"Big." Mikey mumbled into his hands, remaining hunched over the counter. "Big and public. I wanna make sure that everyone knows, everyone sees, I want them all to know. want them to know how much I love her."
Emma's eyes softened and she suppressed a smile, because all in all, it was cute. She had always known her brother to be big and strong, undefeatable, and most of all unwaverable. Mikey always put up the strong front when really, he was hurt. Vulnerability wasn't something that she was used to seeing from him, which made this moment all the more special.
"Do you want to go somewhere with her?" Ken steps in and asks, an idea arising. Mikey only grunts, a noise of agreement sounding through the room. "Do you know what kind of places she likes?" Ken continues.
Mikey's head slowly raises from the position on the table and he stares forward at the refrigerator. "Europe."
Emma and Ken looked at one another again, sensing that they were getting somewhere. "Then take her on Vacation. You both have that long shared break coming up, don't you? Travel through Europe and when it feels right, ask!" Ken said.
"How do I know when it feels right, though? What if it's not the moment?" Mikey asks, still not entirely convinced. "You'll know. I promise you, you'll know. I knew too and I didn't think I had the stuff to ever get married." Ken reassures again, and this time the two share eye contact, and it takes Draken a lot not to tear up.
Draken took a moment in his mind to look at Mikey. He had stuck by his side since they were kids, through thick and thin it's always been the two if them against the world. And now as he looked at Manjiro he no longer saw the unmatchable delinquent he saw ten years ago, but rather a distinguished person with complex thoughts and emotions. He saw a man that felt, a man that cared and a man that loved in front of him, and he couldn't be prouder.
Ken nodded at Mikey, and Mikey nodded back at him. "Yeah. She'll love it! Thanks, I'll do that! Gosh I don't know what id do without you two.."
"Oh, please propose to her in front of the Eifel Tower! Or the Coliseum! Or on some romantic Bridge in Venice!" Emma swooned and held her hands over her chest, hearts in her eyes.
Mikey smiled at her and nodded again. "I'll try and film it if I can."
-
The rest of the evening was spent with the three of them checking about a thousand booking sites, mapping travel routes and destinations, and the occasional cacophony of laughter which led to a grumpy Ryuguji-baby. Manjiro couldn't wait to go with you, he thought as he sat on one of the armchairs, gently running a thumb over the silk box that sat pretty in his hand.
#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#x reader#tokyo rev x you#tokrev#tr content#tr headcanons#tokyo manji revengers#tokyo rev#mikey sano#mikey tokyo revengers#mikey x you#mikey x y/n#mikey x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev fluff#manjiro sano#sano manjiro x reader#tokyo manji gang#sano manjiro#manjiro sano x reader#tokyo revengers sano manjiro#sano mikey manjiro#tokrev manjiro#mikey
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Pretty little liars (chapter 1)
(Felix Catton x fem Reader)
Summary: Felix Catton was the embodiment of everything you hated, yet you loved him like you never imagined one human being could love another. But as with all good things, you didn't know what you had until it was stolen from you.
This Chapter: Your first experiences with Saltburn and the infamous Felix Catton
Word count: +3500
Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Enemies to lovers vibes. Oral (fem & male receiving), p in v sex, fingering, ...
Jealousy, voyeurism, secrets, toxic relationships, mentions of death. Oliver being his creepy little self.
ANGST/smut/fluff (do I ever write anything else? lol)
***
Saltburn has altered my brain chemistry and Felix won't leave my mind so I had to give him his own mini series. Tag list is open for those who want on it ;)
***
All these and older fics are also on AO3 If you want to support my writing you can Buy me a KoFi or feed me with a lovely comment ;)
***
You weren’t just in love with Felix Catton. It would be an insult to the depth of your feelings for him to call it that. You loved him like you never imagined one human being could love another.
Felix Catton was sunlight personified. He lit up a room like no one else could, drew people to his light without even trying.
You couldn’t see it at first, blinded by the riches and the money. But it wasn’t about that.
Felix was more. More than you bargained for, and far more than you deserved.
But as with all good things, you didn’t know what you had until it was taken from you.
He was staring at you but looking right through you, no life left in his teary eyes where he lay on the ground in the middle of the maze, golden wings spread out beneath him. He looked so pale, almost inhuman. Like an angel, fallen to the earth.
It was dark and quiet in the maze, the statue looming over you like a bad omen.The music and happy chatter in the distance might as well have come from another planet. Behind these walls there was no music playing, no laughter, only grief.
Your hands were shaking, grabbing at his chest almost violently, your sadness turning into anger. Don’t you fucking leave me here alone in this place. You promised you wouldn’t leave me alone out here.
Elspeth’s desperate sobs kept filling your ears: “He’s not breathing, my baby’s not breathing, oh god he’s not breathing.”
You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, swallow every single person here and the whole of Saltburn with it.
What good was it without him? What good was any of it?
What good were you?
***
1 year earlier
The first time you set foot in Saltburn you had no idea where to look first. Everything was so beautiful, shiny, luxurious, authentic. Excessive.
You had heard all the stories about the infamous Catton family and their household but to walk through it, observe it all with your own two eyes, was a much different experience.
It felt like a lucid dream and in the midst of it all stood him.
Felix Catton.
Beloved son and brother, life of the party, everybody’s best friend, infamous fuck boy.
He had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, chatting away to whoever gave him attention, male or female, it didn’t matter, they all hung on his every word.
You couldn’t stand him. Not even specifically him but people like him. Pretty rich kids. Life was so easy for him it just wasn’t fucking fair to the rest of you.
“Here,” your friend shoved a drink into your hand and gave you an encouraging smile,”It’s a party, Y/N, can you at least try to look like I’m not holding you at gun point here?”
“Sorry,” you sighed, taking a sip from your drink as you followed your friend through the endless garden of the estate.
It was hot, it had been like this for a couple of weeks now even though officially the summer was yet to start. The only relief was a soft evening breeze and the ice cold drink numbing your throat. You weren’t even supposed to be here, your friend had snuck you in, encouraging you to experience a true Saltburn party for yourself. You’d been curious as hell, so of course you’d said yes.
A decision you were already regretting.
You hated these people, it was all so shallow, and meaningless, and a million miles away from your world. But you didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the -unofficial- invite so you danced with your friend and drank, smiled and pretended to fit in. At least the alcohol made it easy for you to fake your way through the night.
You were losing yourself in the music when your friend leaned closer to you on the dance floor with a grin and a whisper into your ear,“He’s been staring at you for the last 10 minutes.”
“Who?”
“Felix. He’s so fucking hot, girl, you should go to him and go for it.”
You laughed while you continued dancing,”I think not! I may be drunk but I’m not that drunk, Bella.”
“Come on,” she tried to encourage you.
“No thanks, why would I even be interested in him? He’s just a rich asshole,” you pointed out, taking another sip from your drink while your eyes drifted off to Felix. He was standing with a group of people by the side of the dance floor and the maze and his eyes were already on you. You looked away again quickly, shaking your head with another chuckle while you finished your drink.
“See?!” your friend poked into your side with a grin,”You sure you’re not interested?”
“I’m not interested in spoiled little rich kids.”
“Girl, there is nothing about that man that is little,” your friend joked and then almost choked on her own laughter. You couldn’t help but join in.
“Shut up,” you pushed her back playfully.
“No but for real, Felix is a good egg, the best out of all of them,” she pointed out and you rolled your eyes in judgment.
“That isn't saying much, is it? They're all rich assholes.”
“Felix is nice though,” she insisted,”He’s always kind, and so welcoming, and always in a good mood.”
You snorted,”Please, if my family was this rich I’d always be in a good mood as well, fuck. That guy hasn’t had to struggle a day in his life.”
“That’s pretty presumptuous of you,” she pointed out.
“It’s written all over him, come on, he’s a walking cliche, Bella.”
You friend shrugged her shoulders,”Alright, whatever. It’s your loss, I hear he really knows how to please a girl.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again,“That guy? I highly doubt it. Everyone wants to fuck him anyway, he doesn’t even have to try and be good at it. Girls will lay at his feet either way. And guys.”
“I’m just saying, you could take the test and find out for yourself, what have you got to lose?” she teased.
“I think I’ll manage fine without having Felix Catton in my life, thanks. I’m gonna go get another refill.”
You left your friend on the dance floor but you quickly came to regret that decision.
You’d been fine on your feet while dancing but now as you were trying to move through the crowd you suddenly felt dizzy, as if someone had put something in your drink, or you were just a whole lot more drunk than you had initially thought. The ground seemed to be moving under your feet as you fought to keep your balance. Something you were failing horribly at and just as you were about to lose the fight entirely and fall down onto the grass two strong hands came to rest on your shoulders, holding you up.
“Whoa, hey, you alright there, love?”
You looked up to meet his eyes. God, he really was freakishly tall, you had never felt smaller in your life.
“Felix,” you breathed.
“Hi, there,” he smiled at you and opened his mouth to say something else but it never reached your ears as you were too busy vomiting out your guts all over his shirt and shoes.
***
“Here,” Felix handed you a glass of water with two pills in it.
You were sitting on the edge of the counter in one of the guest bathrooms downstairs. It was a blur how you got here, you vaguely remembered Felix carrying you into the house and holding your hair back while you threw up into the fancy toilet.
You looked up at him, your vision still blurry. You noticed he had changed shirts and was barefoot now.
You hesitantly took the glass from his hands but didn’t drink it yet.
“It’s for your stomach, I’m not trying to drug you, promise.”
His voice was kinder than you'd imagined and you carefully took a sip and then another one until you could feel the liquor settle in your stomach. It wasn’t making you feel worse so you drank some more.
“Thanks,” you whispered.
“I haven’t seen you at one of these parties before,” Felix stated.
“No, I…I’m new.”
He smiled. Felix Catton smiled at you and it was like looking directly into the sun.
You took another sip from the drink he handed you, avoiding his gaze, giving yourself a moment of respite. He really was breathtaking up close, even you had to admit that.
”I’m really sorry about your shirt,” you then sighed.
“That’s quite alright. You’re not the first girl to throw up on me.”
You laughed.”Okay, good to know I’m not special.”
Your words made him chuckle.”So do you have a name, new girl?”
“It’s Y/N,” you answered hesitantly.
Felix repeated your name attentively. Why did it sound so much better coming from his lips than from your own?
“You can crash here tonight if you want,” he suggested,”Plenty of guest rooms to choose from. Or one of our drivers can take you home.”
“One of your drivers?” you shook your head with a smile, his words bringing you back down to reality really fast,”Jesus, fuck, you and I come from such different worlds, it would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.”
“I can ditch you outside of the gates and make you walk home,” he teased,”But that would be cruel, wouldn’t it?”
You shook your head with a sneer and then sighed.
“Look, it’s whatever you prefer,” he added casually.
You finished the last of the drink and got up,”I think I’d just prefer to go home, by myself. Thanks for this, but I’m okay now.”
“Okay then,” Felix nodded, a small intrigued smile forming on his lips as he watched you leave the room.
“See you at the next one, new girl,” he yelled after you.
***
The second time you talked to Felix was two weeks later. You had been going with Bella to the Saltburn estate a couple more times since then. She had developed a little crush on Oliver, one of Felix’s new friends who seemed to hang around the house all the time. She had felt a little anxious going there on her own, so she begged you to accompany her and you did what any good friend would do.
It had nothing to do with Felix or Saltburn. Not back then anyway.
You had spent the entire afternoon lounging around the pool with a big group of people. Bella had taken the opportunity to get closer to Oliver who seemed charmed by her interest in him and happily engaged in conversation. You mostly stuck to yourself and soaked up the sun while you read your book. Felix hadn’t approached you once but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances at you every time he thought you weren’t looking.
When the sun was starting to go down you said your goodbye to Bella and Oliver and decided to head back home. You had called a cab to come pick you up by the gate, where Felix found you having a discussion with the taxi driver.
“I have the money I just don’t have it on me right now,” you pleaded but the asshole wasn’t budging.
“Money now or I’m not taking you anywhere, sweetheart,” he insisted.
“I can give you half now and the rest when I get home, come on, it’s not a problem. Do I look like I don’t have money?”
“You rich kids always think the rules don’t apply to you, don’t you? Pay up front, or you’re walking.”
You sighed annoyed, ready to plead your case some more when suddenly you heard someone calling out your name.
It was Felix.
You weren’t sure what surprised you the most, the big beaming smile with which he walked up to you as if you were close friends, or the fact that he remembered your name. You hadn’t spoken to him since your embarrassing display at that party weeks ago. He’d seemed happy to ignore you after that and you had done the same, feeling no interest in getting to know him further.
“You forgot this, love,” he smiled at you and wrapped a jacket over your shoulders, the sleeves were about four sizes too big for you and the whole thing almost came down to your knees.
You were completely lost for words.
He leaned in a little closer to whisper in your ear,”I think you left your money in there as well.”
He tapped on the pocket with his finger and you could see a few 10 pound notes sticking out.
“Felix,” you sighed,”You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?” he feigned innocence,”This is yours, now pay the good man before he ditches you and makes you walk home.”
“I…okay, fine,” you sighed, giving in and taking out the money needed to pay for your ride home.
“Perfect,” the taxi driver grinned,”Pleasure doing business with you.”
Felix stood with his hands in his pockets and a satisfied grin on his face while the man opened the door and waited for you to get in.
You sighed again and looked back into his big brown eyes.
“I’ll pay you back,” you whispered before getting into the car.
“That’s not necessary, new girl,” he called after you and gave you a big wave as the car drove away with you in it.
You hated that it made you smile.
****
You hated to admit that you were starting to enjoy the weekly parties at Saltburn, it had become your guilty pleasure weekend activity.
Bella and Oliver had grown closer together and you couldn’t deny you enjoyed his company as well, he seemed different from all the other rich kids and you had a strong feeling that he was just pretending to fit in, much like yourself. Neither of you spoke of it but when you looked into his eyes you knew, and you knew he knew as well. Neither of you belonged here.
Felix was mixing drinks behind the bar when you put the money you owed him on the counter.”Here.”
He gave you a smile and shook his head,”I told you that wasn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is,” you insisted.
“Really it was nothing, it was barely 4O pounds.”
“And I’m sure in your world that’s considered nothing but in mine it’s….,” you swallowed the rest of your angry words before you would say things you’d end up regretting later.”Just take the damn money.”
He lifted his hands up in defense and laughed,”Alright, fine, I’ll take the money, thank you for paying me back, what the fuck?”
You sighed annoyed and walked away from him, leaving him shaking his head in confusion.
You went back to ignoring him for the rest of the night, or at least trying to. You couldn’t help but find yourself looking at him from time to time. He was always chatting to someone, always laughing and drinking and looking like he was having the time of his life. You wondered if at least part of that was an act, if it ever exhausted him to play the ever friendly host and life of every party. Nobody was happy all the time, weren’t they? Not even Felix Catton.
You looked away when he stared back at you, ignoring the emotions that started bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. You felt strangely drawn to him, and you hated yourself for allowing that feeling.
Bella was the one to pull you out of your thoughts and onto the dance floor and you went willingly, losing yourself in the music and the rhythm. When a few guys came to join you both you didn’t think much of it and you happily let them dance close to you. It wasn’t after some time that you noticed Bella wasn’t there anymore and there was one guy in particular who seemed to have some issues with personal space. His hands were traveling further up your hips and under your shirt while he started grinding up against you.
Your hands on his chest tried to push him back a little bit as you tried to dance away from him but his hold on your hips was too strong.
“Hey, come on, stop that,” you politely tried to create some distance between you both but the guy ignored all your attempts. When his hand tried to slip under the hem of your skirt to feel up your ass you were ready to throw punches at this jerk. Just before you could make your move someone grabbed your hand and slowly but firmly pulled you away from the guy.
Felix.
Before you realized what was happening your back was pressed up against his large chest, his hands on your waist as he danced behind you, his face buried into your hair while he made eye contact with the guy in front of you.
“Sorry, mate, she’s one of mine, off limits,” he stated, as if that explained everything.
And apparently it did because the guy just smiled apologetically at Felix and stepped back immediately.
“Hey,” Felix winked at the guy,”India over there is looking like she could use some company, shoot your shot, man.”
The jerk gave him a big smile and two thumbs up.
You wanted to punch both of them.
You were no longer in need of rescuing but Felix still kept dancing with you. His hands were gentle on your hips, keeping you close but not too close, giving you the freedom to step back should you choose to.
But you didn’t make that choice.
Your body betrayed you by leaning into him, allowing him to nuzzle your hair and your neck, putting goosebumps all over your arms and Felix smiled when he noticed. When his lips brushed your ear your brain finally kicked back into gear and you broke out of his embrace, surprising him.
“Some nice mates you have there,” you pointed out as you turned to look at him,” And one of yours? Do you have like a spare set of everything? Even girls?”
Felix just shook his head with a bashful smile.
“Of course you do,” you then sighed,”Why am I even surprised? God, you are so…”
“What?” he asked, a playful grin on his face,”What am I?”
“Annoying,” you blurted out,”Privileged, full of yourself, ignorant.”
Beautiful, enchanting, mesmerizing.
“Alright, don’t hold back on me now,” he laughed, seemingly amused by your anger and that only angered you further.
You bit your tongue and then shook your head,”You know what, forget it, I don’t even know why I bother.”
You wanted to turn on your heel but Felix reached for your hand, lacing his long fingers with your much smaller ones and keeping you close to him.
“Why do you bother?” he then asked, intrigued, eyes locking with yours,”Why do you keep coming back here when you clearly hate everything about this place?”
“Because my friend…”
“No, no, no, your friend isn’t even here tonight, that’s an excuse. Why are you here?”
Your mouth opened but the words weren’t coming out. Because you would rather die than admit why you were really here.
“I like big parties where I don’t have to pay for anything,” you lied, avoiding his gaze. Felix just laughed and God, you wanted to wipe that beautiful smile off his gorgeous face so badly.
Then he leaned down to be able to stare deep down into your eyes, his voice nothing but a whisper,”You’re a pretty little liar, new girl.”
His deep voice and intense stare were enough to shut you up entirely and you had to look away from him to find your voice again.
“I had him, I didn’t need you,” you then blurted out.
“Didn’t look like it to me,” he shrugged.
“I would have handled it,” you insisted.
“The right thing to say is thank you, Felix, that was pretty nice of you,” he teased, making your blood boil.
“You…ugh…,” you angrily turned your back on him and stormed off the dance floor.
“You’re welcome,” he yelled after you with a big smile on his face,”See you at the next one, Y/N.”
“Asshole.”
You wanted to hate him, you really did, Felix Catton stood for everything you despised. But you could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips, feel where his breath had grazed your neck until your skin erupted in goosebumps, feel how deeply his eyes bored a way straight into your soul.
You hated how you didn’t hate him at all and above all else you hated how he reduced you to just another Felix groupie. That wasn’t you.
He had no idea who you were.
And he could never find out.
#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#felix catton fanfic#jacob elordi fanfic#saltburn fanfic#oliver quick fanfic#please show up in the tags this time!
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THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP
AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.
EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.
SOME NOTES:
1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!)
2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!).
3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people.
4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE!
5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)
I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)
HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.
CLASSPECTS
Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.
AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!
My favorites here & their reasonings are:
- Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him.
- Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol.
- Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny.
- BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs.
- Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here.
- Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo
- Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player.
- Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way.
- Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me.
- Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player.
- Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page.
- Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.
One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.
DREAMING MOONS
I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.
Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.
Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.
The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.
Server/Client Orders & Session Chains
If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.
For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server
The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is
Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)
BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)
Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.
The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is
Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)
As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.
The final chain is the French closed session. It goes
Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)
They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.
LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS
Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.
The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.
I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.
The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.
This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.
Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are
- The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session.
- The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10.
- The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.
I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.
Denizeggs
With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.
All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.
And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.
The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.
Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.
BRAZIL! 🇧🇷
The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!
There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.
They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.
Brazilian Lands (brief edition)!
- Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them.
- Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead
- Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept.
- Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style.
- Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.
RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.
Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.
French
The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.
Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.
While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.
French Planets (Brief Edition)
- Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs.
- Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here.
- Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it.
- Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more.
- Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.
POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.
The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.
GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story
THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.
Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.
Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.
After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.
Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.
Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.
THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.
Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.
Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.
Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).
AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.
Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.
Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.
Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.
AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.
Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.
Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.
At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.
DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.
Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.
Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.
MISCELLANEOUS NOTES
We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.
Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.
Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)
It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!
qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog
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Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that. (Plain text version)
I kept getting "needs pt" tags on the original post, so here's the plain text version:
Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.
To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.
And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.
Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)
So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:
Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.
Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?
Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?
If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.
Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.
On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.
Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.
And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.
Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.
By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.
But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.
Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.
And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.
Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.
Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.
Be prepared to accept criticism.
You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.
What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.
If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.
Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.
After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.
And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.
I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.
They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.
I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.
I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.
Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.
Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.
This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.
I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.
I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.
I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.
EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:
While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.
This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.
If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of the original post.
Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.
Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.
But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.
So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:
A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.
B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.
C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.
@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.
Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.
In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.
THIS IS NOT OKAY.
I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.
Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.
Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”
It should be BASIC DECENCY.
And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.
By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.
But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.
Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.
#I/P#I/P conflict#I/P war#Israel#Palestine#Gaza#free Palestine#Israel Palestine conflict#Israel Palestine war#Jewish goyim solidarity#choose peace
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bakugou
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the perfect pair by beabadoobee
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bakugou did not think he would be here. in a grocery store, with an dirty apron and his shirt and hair half covered in flour.
because it all started with racoon eyes suggesting a bake off.
"the whole class should have a bake off!"
mina exclaimed to the whole class, that were either in the kitchen or the lounge area.
"what do you mean, what kind?"
"just like, bake a cake, whoever's cake the best is the winner and like mr aizawa can be the judge!"
"i'm sure he'll find everyone's terrible.."
"nah fuck that, that's dumb i'm not competing."
bakugou retaliated, standing up from his sitting position from the couch next to kirishima and already walking away to the elevator present in the dorms.
"why not???"
"'cuz i know mine's gonna be the best out of all you losers."
"don't worry about bakugou, he's probably too chicken to see that his cake will be the worst, am i right, kacchan?"
denki teased, sitting up straight next to kirishima, who was laughing next to him.
"FUCK YOU I WILL BEAT YOUR ASS"
-
everyone got a partner from picking names in a hat, some were lucky and some were lucky, everyone yelled out when mineta got sato which was completely unfair, and denki literally laughed out loud but alo mixed with screaming when bakugou pulled denki's name out the hat.
denki was a lost hope, first of all he mixed the mixture too much which made it too runny, so they started again.
second of all, he added too much sugar and it disappeared into the mixture, so they couldn't take it out so they had to start again for the second time.
then icyhot accidentally knocked over their mixture because todoroki didn't see mineta infront of him and tripped onto mineta, pushing the table that denki and bakugou were using and the flour AND the mixture flew everywhere and that would mean that they had to start again a THIRD time. bakugou was just sick and tired.
so, bakugou chose a plan b.
"dunce face, i say i go to the store and buy a cake. we have failed making this mixture too many times so don't ask questions."
"what did i do when THEY ask questions about you being gone-"
"just STALL SPARKY"
-
bakugou made his way to the store, him getting funny looks but also looks of admiration as some people knew him from the sport's carnival, but why was he dirty in flour??
he went into a nearby grocery store and nearly ran into the isle with desserts, he browsed the isle and tried to find the specific cake they were all trying to bake.
"do you need any help?"
a voice called out to him from behind, he turned around to find a worker, wearing the corresponding blue to match the store's logo. he couldn't help his eyes from wondering to take in their facial features, hair colour, eyes and just them in general. he took notice of the name tag, y/n. y/n was really pretty.
"i couldn't help but notice your, attire."
they laughed a little and that made bakugou's face turn red.
"my friends were having a bake off, but my baking partner was too stupid and now i have to buy one."
"oh! i see, may i suggest this, (favourite/cake/flavour) is the best, everyone's loves it."
they reached around bakugou, who wanted to lean closer to the worker but fought his inner muscles. he couldn't stop thinking about how embarrassed he was for them to see him so gross and floury.
"yeah.. (f/c/f) is good."
he absolutely hated it with his whole soul, if he could make it disappear forever he would.
-
"is that all for today?"
bakugou snapped into reality again, while he was infront of the cashier to pay for the cake.
"uh yeah."
his eyes kept wondering to the worker that had helped him, who was now helping another, how he so wanted that person to be him again. he payed for the cake and was beginning to walk out the store, but then his brain made him whip himself around, going back into the store.
'what are you doing idiot?!'
"hey."
y/n turned around to see him again, the same cute customer that they saw in the shirt covered in flour and apron wrapped around his torso.
"oh hi again! did you need help with something else?"
"uh yeah, i need help finding the- cutting board! my friend doesn't have one and it just slipped my mind."
of course the dorm kitchen have a cutting board which one doesn't?
the blonde hair customer's face was trying to be stoic, but his face was bright red and his eyebrows slightly furrowed, but he was maintaining eye contact with y/n so it made them nervous.
"ah! right this way."
y/n spun around quickly so the customer didn't catch the steam coming out of their ears and nose.
"here are the boards, you can pick whichever one you want, but just tell me if you need help, i'll be right over there."
y/n turned away, trying to contain themself, bakugou was yelling at himself.
'fuck they're getting away, don't let them!'
"hey,"
y/n turned around again,
"do you think i could get your number?"
-
"baku bro! why'd you take so long?! everyone's almost done!"
"don't care dunce face, here's your cake, i can't be bothered to wait for the winner."
bakugou shoved the dirty apron and the cake in the bag to denki once he ran up to bakugou, walking away to his room to have some peace. he shoved his hands in his pockets to feel around for the piece of paper in there.
once he got into his room, he pulled out his phone and typed in the number on the paper. ringing the number, after three rings, it picked up.
"hello?"
"hey again, i worried you gave me a fake number."
"of course i wouldn't."
-
"my shift ends soon, so call me, yeah?"
-
wc : 1015 words
#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x gn!reader#this IONE IS LOWKEY OOC AGAIN BUT PLS BEAR WITH EM#bnha#mha
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Stargazer, Moonweaver, Net
Hey, you. Yes, you. Have you ever wondered, hey, what would it look like if @five-rivers, @jackdaw-sprite, @seaglass-skies, @datawyrms, and @akela-nakamura all worked together on a fic for Phantasy Phest? No? Too specific? Well, if you had, it would look exactly like this fic here.
AO3 link
Tags: Lost Time, The portal accident, Phantasy Phest 2023, Alternate Universe - Modern Fantasy, Fairies, Blood Drinking, Moths, Clockwork has low opinions of the Fenton Parents, Transformation, Body Horror, Danny gets to say Fuck
Word Count: 11,197
Fic continues after cut.
.
"Ohno. Oh, no, no no nooooooo."
The stars were bright tonight.
Danny could even see them from where he was at the edge of a large clearing, where the trees stopped to wreathe the base of a hill.
Unusually, Danny didn't care.
"Nooooo," he said again under his breath.
Danny pushed at the net again. It reeked of garlic and sage the same way his parents’ nets always did, and the cord was rough and knobbly between his fingers. They must have woven this one with something extra.
He needed to get out. But with his flashlight fallen somewhere he could barely see the net or where it might end.
His flashlight. Where was his flashlight? Danny crouched, and began to grope at the ground around him. It couldn't have rolled too far, right?
The net folded up into his face, scratchy and unexpected. Danny flinched back but kept going, moving his hands in a circle. They met dead leaves and earth, and more than once he touched slimy and wet things he hoped were slugs.
He didn't find anything that felt like a flashlight.
"Heck," said Danny.
He sat down on the ground. The damp seeped into his pants but at this point that was a distant concern.
Maybe he could just find the edge of the net. It was a net. It had an edge. And his parents weren't always great at traps.
Danny pulled the net hand over hand in one direction and stopped when he felt something thicker cross over an arm.
He groped at it. It felt like the edge. Or an edge. One side didn't have all the net stuff. With mounting relief he followed it with his fingers–and discovered that it was attached to an opening only about large enough to slip a hand through.
There wasn't a tie that he could feel.
He couldn't find any other holes in it.
The relief withered. He was caught, alone, in the dead of night, in one of his parents' stupid monster catching nets. Without a flashlight.
And his parents, at best, might find him in the morning.
"Heck," said Danny, again.
Then he remembered he was alone, deep in the woods in the middle of the night, and no one would hear him.
"Fuck."
If only, Danny thought a while later, he'd brought his pocket knife. Or literally any knife. Something sharp to cut through the ropes.
None of the rocks he could reach had worked, though that was probably a little because he still couldn't see much of anything. It was really hard to wear through rope when you were doing it with a rock, blind. And through a net.
He was cold. His butt was colder from sitting in the leaves earlier. He kind of wanted to do it again, as a measure of his suffering. He wanted to be home, dry, and warm even more.
Maybe he could just wait for morning. Maybe his parents would know the trap had gone off, and come to check it. Maybe they'd check it anyway. They were the town crackpots for a reason. They didn't just believe in fictional creatures, they did so enthusiastically and with the kind of prejudice that made them set net traps in the woods. For one of their own innocent children to get caught in when he was only trying to stargaze on a clear night before school started in a few weeks. See some constellations, spot a few meteors, maybe a handful of planets, that kind of thing.
Never mind that he’d maybe snuck out. Because he knew they’d freak out about him going into the woods alone. Because they believed in faeries.
Gosh, he hoped this didn't get back to Dash.
At least the stars were bright tonight.
He sighed and looked up, eyes automatically picking out familiar constellations. The Big Dipper was easiest, although finding the rest of Ursa Major was less familiar. All seven stars of Ursa Minor were easily visible, which again highlighted how good the seeing was. Then there were the other circumpolars. Draco, Cepheus, Cassiopeia… He could see the V of Andromeda, where it blended with Pegasus, and he could almost convince himself that–
An owl - he thought it was an owl - hooted somewhere nearby. He jumped, which had the side effect of reminding him that, yes, he was still in a net. He rubbed his shoulders and neck where they’d been rammed into the net. Straining against rope shouldn’t have felt like running into a wall, but he supposed he did have his weight on the bottom of it.
But he soon had other things to worry about than his parents’ irrational net design.
(Seriously, why was there enough room to stand up in this net? What were they even trying to catch? At first, he’d thought he could just walk away, back to town, even inside the net, but it was tied to something. Maybe one of the trees?)
Sounds started to rise up from all around the clearing. First the high-pitched chirr of crickets, then croaking, buzzing, and chirping. Small noises, from small things.
But with those small noises, Danny started to notice rustling and creaking and– Was that a dog howling or a wolf? Were there even any wolves here? He remembered a unit in science last year where the teacher talked about wolves going extinct in some states.
The stars were bright tonight. The woods around him? Not so much.
“People spend nights outside all the time,” he said out loud. The word probably would have been more impactful if they weren’t whispered. “All the time. People go camping and hiking and stuff for fun.” Never mind that they were usually more prepared to do so than Danny currently was. And that most of the time, they could decide to just leave and go home or get a hotel room if camping got to be too much for them. He continued, more loudly, “I just have to wait for morning. They’ll find me in the morning. And– and if they don’t, I’ll be able to see. I’ll be able to get myself out. I’ll be fine.”
If nothing ate him first.
No. No. That was– What out here could even eat him, anyway? Wolves, yeah, okay, but were there wolves? Still unclear. Bears? If there weren’t wolves, he doubted there were bears. He’d never heard of any bears out here, anyway. What else could eat a human who wasn’t, well, already dead? Cougars? That one school, a couple districts over, had a cougar for a mascot, didn’t they? That didn’t really mean anything, though. What else, what else… Feral pigs? Those were supposed to be invasive around here, weren’t they? Danny had kind of laughed at the idea of it in class, but, here, now, in the dark, was a different story.
He was pretty sure anything else was too small. So. Three things out of how many animals? Thousands? Yeah. Yeah, the odds of those three specific animals showing up to bother him were low. Yes. Nothing wrong with the math there. No siree.
(And the stuff his parents were worried about, the stuff they’d set this trap for, that stuff didn’t exist at all, so he didn’t have to worry about it. There were no werewolves, no chimerae, no hobgoblins, and definitely no fairies. Wasn’t even worth thinking about.)
A branch snapped. Then another.
He’d thought the owl was close, but this sounded closer. And those didn’t sound like small branches.
A deer? There definitely were deer here. Sam talked about deer resistant and repellent garden plants, sometimes. Deer could get big. Like, reindeer were huge, right?
It was dark under the trees, but by starlight alone Danny could still perceive a shadow moving among other shadows. Something tall. Something not shaped anything like a deer.
The shadow came closer.
Danny held his breath and shrunk down against the nearest tree. He couldn’t fight a bear. Not even when he wasn’t caught in a net.
"Hello."
"Hi," said Danny back, on autopilot.
Danny continued staring at the shadow for several more tense moments before it occurred to him that it had talked.
"Wait, you can talk?" Danny asked.
"It would appear so," said the shadow, and did not move. Now that Danny was looking and thinking rather than just freaking out, the shadow looked, well, pretty humanoid. Tall, sure, and wearing a long coat with a hood - or maybe a dress? And that could be long hair. Significantly less weird in the middle of the summer than a coat - but humanoid.
Human, he should say. Outside of, like, parrots, there weren’t a lot of other things that could talk. No matter what his parents said.
"Um. I'm a little stuck," said Danny.
"Really?" The shadow did not sound surprised.
"Can you, I don't know, cut the net loose? Please?"
The shadow hummed. "I think the more interesting question is why you're stuck in the first place. One does not frequently encounter those such as yourself in the woods so late at night."
Oh, wow. Danny could empathize with the curiosity. He really could. This was a weird situation to come across, and whoever this was, they must be just as confused as Danny. But he also really didn’t want to explain anything about this to a stranger. And he would really rather be out while talking to what was, yet again, a complete stranger.
… Humans were pretty dangerous themselves, come to think of it.
“Yeah, I guess not.” He swallowed. “Why are you out here, anyway?” Maybe he was being rude, but the shadow had asked first.
The shadow shifted, looking up. Starlight limned pale skin and a sharp, straight nose in shades of gray. “The stars. The sun is too bright during the day. It is easier to see them at night.”
“Oh,” said Danny. Maybe, hopefully, not a murderer, then. Just another person out stargazing. A weird person but… Danny didn’t exactly have room to talk. “Yeah. Me, too. Since the moon isn’t up and all. I just, uh, ran into this. Trap. Thing.” He tugged at the net. “And now I can’t get out.”
The shadow’s head tipped back down. “Can’t you?”
“I really can’t. I can’t even figure out how it’s tied on. Do you, like, have a flashlight or something?”
“I do not.”
“Not even, like, one on your phone?”
“No.” The shadow leaned forward, and might have held out a hand, but if they did, they didn’t touch anything that Danny could feel. “What a curious and terrible thing,” murmured the shadow. “What cruelty and carelessness, to leave it to trap the unwary.”
Danny winced. Yeah. Yeah, okay, it kind of was, and it was probably a small miracle that no one else had ever gotten trapped in one of these things.
That Danny knew of.
He pushed the thought of his parents absent-mindedly forgetting to check one of these traps, or only checking them once a week, out of his mind. His parents were crazy and kind of forgetful and… well, the point was, he would have heard if something had… happened.
They wouldn’t do that, anyway.
“Yeah. But, um. Even without the flashlight, please, help? Just, maybe if you could untie me, or if you have…” Did he really want this guy to have a knife? Not really. Still. “Something to cut with, maybe?”
“I cannot cut the net in which you find yourself.” The shadow shifted again. “However, I will stay with you until you are free.”
“Maybe if you tried some of the knots, you could get me out, though,” pointed out Danny.
“I have encountered ropes like this in the past. They do not agree with my skin.”
“What, like, you're allergic?” asked Danny.
“Something like that.”
Just his luck. He was found, but the person to find him was… incredibly strange. And not very useful. And had possibly run into his parents’ nets before and had a reaction to them.
“Okay. But maybe you could call for help? I mean, I know you said you don’t have a phone, but you could go get someone who can get me out?”
“Child,” said the shadow, with a touch of amusement, “there are things in these woods that would eat you whole. I am equipped to deal with them. You are not. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you while they wander.” They settled themselves nearby. “Besides, I can see the stars here as well as I could elsewhere in these woods.”
“Eat me?” squeaked Danny. He'd thought about bears earlier, but not, like, out loud. Talking about them out loud was different. He cleared his throat. “You mean like bears?”
“In some respects,” said the shadow, still amused.
"Okay, um." Danny really did not like confirmation that there were bears around. He could have gone without knowing that. Except he probably should know. Considering he was in a net.
The net.
Which the stranger somehow thought he'd be able to escape on his own?
"Hey, um. I have been trying to get out for a while," said Danny. "It hasn't been working. You're sure you can't do anything to help?"
"There is more than one kind of trap here."
Danny blinked.
Crap. That would be just like his parents, wouldn’t it? They couldn’t leave it at just one stupid trap in a public space, they have more. “Where?”
“You will not be able to see it from your perspective, but I have no doubt it would close were I to attempt to free you.”
“Great,” said Danny. He took in a shuddering breath. “Great. And you, what, think I’ll be able to avoid it on my own? When I can’t even see it? Or is this a ‘wait until morning’ thing?”
“You will, at least, be less liable to be eaten by wild animals at that point. And more able to untie knots with the light of day.”
Okay, yeah. Danny had been thinking both of those things as well, but with someone here, he’d hoped…
He rubbed his eyes, tiredly, and, to his absolute horror, his stomach rumbled.
“Are you hungry?” asked the shadow, as if Danny wasn’t already embarrassed enough.
Danny mumbled something indistinct. He had eaten. Just… The main course had… Well, some things were better left unsaid. The salad (courtesy of Jazz) had been okay, and so had the carrots. He’d felt full right after dinner. He had.
But, yeah. He was hungry. Dinner had been hours and hours ago at this point.
“I have food enough to share.”
“Uh,” said Danny. “Okay?”
Something moved under his nose, and he flinched. He hadn’t seen the shadow move.
“Um, I’m not sure I can…” He tried to wedge his fingers into one of the holes of the net. He’d lost track of the opening.
“They are small. They will fit. Hold out your hands.”
Danny, only a little skeptical, held out his hands. As promised, several round, slightly damp things, like largeish marbles, were dropped into them through the holes in the net.
“What are these?”
“Star jelly.”
“Like, from starfruit or something?” asked Danny, interested. He squished one between his fingers. It was springy, like a gummy. But still. Damp.
“Or something,” said the stranger.
“Why is it damp?”
“It hasn’t dried.”
Well. That was almost no information at all.
“But it’s edible?”
“I enjoy them regularly.”
Danny huffed slightly. This guy was weird. Again, that was the pot calling the kettle black, but Danny didn’t go around offering weird food to strangers.
No, he went around getting trapped in nets.
And he was hungry.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t eaten weirder things. His parents could be creative.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to accept food from strangers, but… This guy was his getting caught in a net buddy. And he had to admit, he was pretty mad at his parents right now. It’d serve them right, that Danny was eating someone else’s food.
Did that make sense? Maybe not. But it wasn’t like any of the stuff Sam or Jazz did made any sense, either.
Plus, it had ‘star’ in the name. He basically had to try out at least one.
He squished the smallest between his fingers one last time, then popped it in his mouth.
He chewed.
There was no burst of flavor. It tasted… pretty bland, actually. All the way through. But the texture was okay. Mostly. It was at least better than what had happened to the chicken fated for dinner.
So. Probably not poison.
(Although why anyone would bother to poison him when he was quite literally trapped in a net was beyond him.)
“I also have a variety of mushrooms.”
Who was this guy? The last hippie in Amity Park? A revolutionary war survivor?
“Do you have hardtack, too?” asked Danny, unable to help himself.
“I have biscuits.”
Oh thank goodness. Normal food.
“Can I have one?”
Something distinctly cracker-like was placed in his hand.
Danny didn’t even bother snarking, he just ate it. The texture was flaky, the flavor nutty and buttery and just salty enough to coat the whole of his tongue with flavor. He crunched into it again and the layers almost shattered between his teeth, then melted in his mouth like butter in a hot pan.
Danny swallowed. He’d never had a cracker that good.
“Can I have another?” he asked. Then, as more fell into his hands, “Where did you even get these? They’re great.”
“I baked them myself.”
Well. That explained why he didn’t have a phone. He was a hippie of some variety. Danny didn’t comment aloud, though, too busy plowing his way through another cracker. He spent a little while chewing in blissful silence before he could swallow.
“They’re great,” Danny repeated, and had another one. And another.
“Ah,” said the shadow, “I believe that was the first proper shooting star of the night.”
“What?” said Danny, looking up from his impromptu meal. He licked his fingers, then stretched out the net, the better to see through it. “Really? Where?”
“From the neighborhood of Cassiopeia, crossing her and going north.” A pointed finger stood out in silhouette against the slightly brighter sky, tracing an imaginary line.
Danny sighed. “I can’t believe I missed it.” The Perseid meteor shower was, after all, one of the main reasons he risked sneaking out.
“Many meteor showers reach their peak shortly before dawn,” said the shadow. “As we will be here for some time yet, I believe you will have the opportunity to see many more.”
“But the first one…” Danny said, trailing off.
“The first from our perspective. This shower has been going on for some time. For someone to our east, perhaps it is, instead, the last.”
Danny grumbled.
First the net and now this…
Something golden green streaked across the sky and he perked up. That one had been nice. A breath later, a smaller, shorter one flashed at the edge of his vision, a tiny needle of light.
“See? There will be more for you to wish on.”
“That’s really not why I wanted to see them,” said Danny, wrinkling his nose. Wishing was, well. It was the sort of thing little kids did. It wasn’t scientific. It was the kind of thing his parents strictly forbade.
“It isn’t?”
“I…they’re cool. And it’s nice. Or it would be, if it weren’t for this net.”
“What would it hurt to make a wish?”
Danny sighed. It wasn’t like they were wrong. This situation was stupid and illogical. So.
“I wish I could get out of this stupid net. Before my parents find out about any of this.”
The stranger hummed in interest. “They don’t know?”
“They sure know about the net,” griped Danny. He didn’t take his eyes off the sky, but he did tug on the ropes to make his point. The rope was homemade, twisted with nonstandard fibers along with more common silk and hemp, rubbed with garlic and sage. It was distinctive. It was familiar. It was something he'd probably tripped on a dozen times when it was left half-finished on the living-room floor. “But it's not like I told them I was sneaking out. Like, who's going to tell their parents they're breaking rules?”
The shadow hummed again. "That is true."
Danny was distracted from replying or continuing by a pale, oddly oblong blur to the north. It stayed in place, even as colorful shooting stars passed it by.
"Is that–?" gasped Danny. He leaned forward against the tension in the ropes and a similar, less tangible ache in his chest, as if he could get closer to the sky.
The oblong blur widened into several similar streaks, like thumbprints on glass. Green, pink, and purple began to seep into them.
"There must have been a solar storm I didn't know about," said Danny as meteors shot through the undulating curtain of the Aurora. Delight was dancing in his stomach and thrumming along his limbs at the sight. "We hardly ever get the Aurora this far south."
"It is an auspicious night for stargazing, then," said the shadow, "and one I am indeed glad to share, despite the circumstances."
The thing was, they were right. Despite the net, stargazing with someone who liked it as much as he did was nice. It was really nice, despite the net. Nice enough to wish, quite sincerely, and on a meteor that fell across the sky in that very moment, that they could do it again. It probably would have been nice even without the Perseids and the Aurora, but with them he was practically giddy.
Briefly, Danny imagined how this meeting might have gone sans net.
Okay. Honestly, Danny probably would have run for it. Weird adult in the middle of the night, after all. He had briefly wondered if the guy was an axe murderer.
He rolled his shoulders. His back was starting to get sore - probably a combination of the net and how long he'd been looking up, but he didn't want to take his eyes off the light show even for a second.
"My name's Danny, by the way." They were kind of sort of friends now. Stargazing buddies. Net buddies, even. Danny couldn't refer to the as 'the shadow' or as 'the guy who sat with me all night the time I was trapped in one of my parents' nets' forever, and he doubted the shadow wanted to keep mentally referring to him as 'that weirdo kid who got stuck in a net' for eternity, either.
"I am honored that you would trust me with your name," said the shadow, tone strangely formal.
"Uh, you're welcome?" Danny said.
"I go by Clockwork."
Wow. This guy really was strange, huh? Was that his legal name? Just a nickname? A screen name? Had he changed his legal name to that?
"Nice to meet you, Clockwork," said Danny, for lack of a better response.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, as well."
Pleased to make your acquaintance. Well. Danny's parents were eccentric too (see also: net. see also also: believing said net was going to catch faeries and demons.) and he was now almost eighty percent sure this guy wasn't an axe murderer.
Danny shifted under the net. He could try and shake hands, but the excitement and delight hadn't faded much at all and it was hard to focus on formalities when so much of him was full of so much energy.
Wait.
That was weird, wasn't it? Danny frowned. Should he have taken random food from a stranger? Clockwork had mushrooms, too. Had the star jelly been not just edible but an edible?
Was he high right now?
"Clockwork," Danny began, and the Aurora bloomed across the sky. The moment filled with shared murmurs of admiration, and by the time it died the thought had passed.
Even if the energy hadn't.
He flexed his fingers. Maybe he’d run through some kind of itchy plant? That might explain the tingle on his skin.
There was a hollow, almost melodic popping noise from the vicinity of the shadow. The vicinity of Clockwork, he corrected himself.
“You should try to stay hydrated,” said Clockwork.
A scent both floral and salty wafted up to Danny’s nose. The green glimmer of the Aurora reflected off the glassy lip of a bottle. “Is– Is that alcohol?” asked Danny. “Are you offering me alcohol? Wine?”
“I am not,” said Clockwork. “This is far more nourishing.”
“‘This’ being what, exactly?” asked Danny, still vaguely suspicious.
“It is mostly sugar and water. Fruit juice, salt, nectar, among other things. As you would call them, electrolytes. You have exerted yourself. It has not been purposefully fermented.”
This guy and his weird food. Still, that didn’t seem…bad, exactly. Danny was thirsty, and he liked gatorade, and that was kind of similar, right? And he was curious.
The crackers had been good. And even the star jelly had been edible.
It took some experimentation to hold the bottle firmly through the net. The body of it was too large to fit through any of the holes. But the mouth and neck of the bottle could go through, and Clockwork seemed content to hold it until Danny figured it out.
The liquid inside was thicker than he had expected. Sweeter and saltier, too. The flavor was… interesting. A little sour, a little bitter, a little… savory? It definitely tasted like flowers smelled. Only, it also tasted like something else? A lot of something elses.
He pulled the bottle back and licked his lips thoughtfully. He… didn’t hate it. It sure wasn’t something he’d just drink on his own, though. On the other hand, taking that sip had made him realize how thirsty he actually was. Which was very thirsty. He must have gotten more dried out than he’d thought, first walking here and then fighting the net for who knew how long.
He took another sip, trying to focus on the flavors he hadn’t quite been able to name.
And another.
Something in him settled as he drank. He hadn’t realized how nervous he’d been. Was it nervousness? He’d thought it was excitement. Delight. Something positive. But now it was settling into something softer. Calmer. And yet the sky was no less compelling.
Maybe it was a different sort of happiness, now that the unexpected relief and delight of a fellow stargazer out here had calmed his nerves. Maybe he hadn’t managed to calm down until now, and the drink was finally letting him?
Regardless, his limbs weren't so tense anymore, and breaths he hadn’t realized had become so short were drawing long and even now, and that was a relief.
He alternated sips with looking up at the stars. The Aurora undulated slowly, and was periodically pierced by meteors. The stars behind the curtains of light were harder to see, but he could still pick out his favorites coming and going, first hidden, then not. The motion of the lights almost made them seem as if they were moving. It was hypnotizing.
He tilted the bottle back once more, and made a disappointed sound deep in his throat when he realized it was empty. Huh. He must have liked it alright after all. That wasn’t a small bottle. In fact, it was bigger than he’d originally thought when Clockwork had first given it to him.
… He hoped this didn’t make him have to pee. He was in the woods, but standing next to, um. Well. An impromptu bathroom. Until dawn, at least. Would make the net thing much worse.
“Done already?” asked Clockwork.
“I guess I was thirstier than I thought.”
“You had been exerting yourself for some time.” Clockwork plucked the bottle out of Danny’s hands. “But I believe that you will soon see the fruits of your exertions.”
Danny sighed and leaned more deeply against the tree he was attached to. Subtly, he rubbed his back against the bark. The soreness was getting worse. “Not unless you see a rescue party.”
Clockwork hummed. “I do not. But perhaps you will not need one. The weave of the net seems looser, now. Can your hands fit through?”
Danny tested it. His hand fit through one of the holes easily. And another. It was the same with the third he tried.
“What,” he said.
“It is progress, is it not?”
“I don’t know how,” Danny said. “It’s not like Mom and Dad don’t tie these things at every connection. I didn’t think they could slide.”
“And yet your hands can fit through.”
“Yeah. I just wish I knew how that happened.”
“Dawn will come,” said Clockwork. “You will be able to see it then. Perhaps you worked them loose with your straining.”
“I guess,” said Danny, still wondering.
“And with dawn, you will be free, one way or another. For now, shall we focus on this spectacular sky?”
“Yeah,” said Danny.
He’d never seen a night sky like this before, after all. Even if he was stuck under a net, he had a …not a friend. But a fellow stargazer who was just as appreciative. And he was full, and no longer thirsty, and even the cold of the wet earth beneath him wasn’t as cutting with Clockwork’s company.
He settled in again to watch the lightshow, and worried at the cords of the net as he did. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do both, after all.
The stars flashed. The sky spun. Clockwork and Danny both exclaimed and pointed at particularly impressive meteors. Clockwork noted the visible planets and occasionally pointed out asterisms Danny had never heard of before. The Veil, the Key, the Mistletoe, the Dancing Maidens, the Hive, the Moth. He half suspected Clockwork was just making them, and the stories that went with them, up to entertain Danny. But, then, Danny was entertained. He couldn’t complain. Even when Clockwork tried to get away with calling Libra The Balance, Danny found his objections were more laughter than indignation.
The eastern horizon began to blush pale. Danny found himself almost disappointed at the sight, even if he’d be able to get out of the net soon. And really see Clockwork. After stargazing for hours together, it felt odd that he still didn’t know what the man looked like even though his voice was becoming as familiar as a friend’s.
He rubbed one of the net cords between his fingers. Was it just him, or did it seem… scratchier? Thicker?
He stroked the skin on his palms. Did he have rope burn, maybe? He had been pulling on the cords for hours. And who knew what his parents had soaked the nets in after they’d been woven? Danny sure tried not to.
More importantly, before too much longer the sun would drown out the meteors and the Aurora both. He wanted to press this sight into his mind to keep forever and ever. And not just the sight, but the feeling of… He couldn’t put a name to it, to what he felt, sitting here with Clockwork
It just felt important.
A meteor fell. He wished it would last. Another meteor, brighter. He wished that even after Clockwork inevitably found out who Danny’s parents were and what they were like in person, he would still want to be ‘acquaintances.’ Friends. Whatever. He was weird enough. Probably. Like Sam and Tucker.
He wished–
A huge fireball bloomed directly overhead, a celestial arrow angling down, north, wreathed in blinding green. It took Danny’s breath away.
He wished he could do this again. He wished he could cast off the shadow of his parents’ weird fae traps and property damage and hatred of creatures that didn’t even exist. He wished he could have the space and time to figure out who he was and who he could be, whether that was an astronaut, an astronomer, a screw up, whatever Jazz was trying to convince him to be that week, or, heck, even someone just as strange as his parents and Clockwork. He wished he could be himself, could just shed the image of what they and almost everyone else seemed to see in him.
Also, the net.
Some of the net fell heavily around Danny’s shoulders, then slid off them. He didn’t look down, still entranced by the after-image. Then pain, white hot and as sharp as a knife, drove into his temples and back. It took his breath away.
He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping for air and squeezing his eyes so tightly that tears began to slip out. What had happened? What was wrong with him? He hissed out a shaky breath that was dangerously close to a sob as the pain redoubled, strengthening and strengthening again until static pulsed in the dark of his shut eyes.
It felt as though his head were splitting open.
The pain lanced down his back and he revised the thought. It felt as though he were splitting open.
And then his face came apart.
And then there were only scattered fragments. Scratching. Growing. Stretching. The feeling of fingers on earth. The feeling fingers of earth. Unfolding. Squeezing. Balance; a knife’s edge.
A great and overwhelming sense of space.
Like a leaf before a storm, Danny trembled.
Eventually, it ebbed.
He was clinging to the ground with all his might, which wasn’t much; the whatever-it-was had left him weak. His limbs felt like jelly and seemed half as cooperative. He was gasping for air, each breath harsh enough to sting his throat. There was a blanket over him and he had the halfway-delirious thought that if Clockwork had a blanket he’d have appreciated it sooner than this.
He couldn’t feel the net.
Had Clockwork gotten him out once it got light enough out? It seemed much brighter now, even if the thought of opening his eyes made Danny wince.
There was a painful, high-pitched chirr sound in the background. It hurt Danny’s ears and made him wonder if there was an injured animal nearby.
Something pressed down gently on the back of his neck, where the fuzzy, fluffy edge of the blanket rested. It removed itself, then returned at the top of his head, whereupon it slid down to the top of his back.
Oh. Oh. He was being petted. Comforted. That must be someone’s hand. Clockwork’s?
It felt… unusually satisfying. Especially when they fluffed the ruff of the blanket which Danny was strangely aware of.
Very gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, and he was able to start cataloging the parts of his body that hurt, which was all of them. But there were a few that hurt more. His eyes. His ears. His temples and the sides of his head. His entire back. His shoulders, neck, ears, and large parts of his spine felt like every hair on them had been individually plucked out and then sandpapered. Speaking of his spine, that felt as if it had been stretched, pulled to bits. And his back still felt like it had been stabbed. Multiple times. Especially around his shoulder blades and at the base of his spine.
Other than that, he was just sore, everywhere.
The quality of the chirr sound he’d been hearing started to change, morphing into a sort of purr. One that rose and fell in time with the hand petting Danny.
Huh.
His hand flexed on the ground. Something was… There was something very off here, beyond the pain, but that was getting better, and he was starting to feel almost… comfortable.
His weight shifted again, and the ground shifted under it.
It was warm.
It was…damp? Wet. There was something wet under his hands. Carefully, worried that it would move again, Danny took one hand off the ground and brought it to his face to sniff.
It smelled good. It smelled wonderful, salty and hearty and just a little bit like chicken soup.
He licked it.
“There we are,” said Clockwork, softly. “Take as much as you need.”
Danny needed a lot, right now. His throat was raw, and he was thirsty and suddenly starving, and beyond that the pain that was still leaving echoes through his body. This was warmth and comfort and he wanted both.
He lowered his head and began to lap directly from the source, and warmth and comfort steadily filled him like the morning sun.
He pulled back, not exactly satiated, but needing something else, something different, now. He made a soft, pleading sound, more like a chirp or a keen than anything human. He didn’t understand what was going on, but part of him trusted he would be cared for. Loved. He’d already been given so much he didn’t know he needed…
Another plea escaped his throat. It blended with the softening chirr, fitting with it far better than Danny felt it should.
Something soft and sweet-smelling tickled his cheeks, and Danny dove in, his tongue coming out to search for what he knew was there.
Sweet.
Sweet, but not in the way of candy or even sugar. This was softer, perfumed, more reminiscent of honey but lacking that sharp note.
He wanted more.
As he pushed his face deeper into the… container… something touched his… Touched… What? It was touching his… not his head, but something over it, something attached, something he could feel, and now that he could feel it, was thinking about it, whatever it was, he could feel its movements, as even the sigh-soft breeze pushed it around.
It– No, they were something fine. Something soft and delicate. Something light and flexible and oh so very sensitive.
The hand, Clockwork’s hand, stroked down his back again, and Danny realized he could feel the fluff of the blanket the same way he’d been able to feel the things on his head. And it trailed past that, to his horribly sore back, and down, all the way down, past where his back should end.
Down, to where Danny could feel something laying across a foot. Down, to where he could feel a hard object under him.
Something twitched, and the thing across his foot fell away. The hard something vanished, too, replaced with the soft ground he found himself on.
Danny chirred, confused.
Oh. He had been the one making that sound all along. But. That wasn’t a sound he could make. It wasn’t.
He had to see what was going on.
Opening his eyes was, perhaps, the single hardest thing he had ever done. It wasn’t that they were stuck closed or anything, they were just so heavy, and a large part of him just didn’t want to know, wanted to stay half asleep, wanted to keep being held and petted.
Red. A deep, rich red puddled around him on the strange, soft ground. And the ground was uneven, and covered with small ridges and creases where it didn’t vanish beneath the red. Which was welling up from the ground like a spring.
Danny was wrist-deep in it.
A short distance from his face lay the biggest flower Danny had ever seen. It was bigger than his head, its pale petals stained liberally with the red. Handprints. The red stains were in the shape of handprints. Danny’s handprints.
The red looked– Well, it looked a lot like– Like a scene from a horror movie– But it was coming from the ground, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be blood.
Danny had been drinking this. What had he been thinking?
“Are you feeling better?” asked Clockwork.
Danny looked around for him. Then, he looked up.
The very first thing he noticed was that there were still stars in the sky. It was still dark, the Aurora was still bright. The meteors were still falling.
Why could he see?
Why could he see so much more? He’d only ever seen the stars like this in long-exposure photographs. The light pollution was way too strong this close to the city.
There were other, closer things. The leaves on the trees were green, but they weren’t just green. Their veins seemed to glow with soft pinks and blues. He could see insects and birds, too, all of them strangely bright to his eyes, like they had swallowed stars.
Then, there was Clockwork. It had to be Clockwork. There wasn’t anything or anyone else it could be.
“I will interpret that as a yes,” said Clockwork, smiling down at him with love clear in all six eyes.
He had the nose Danny had seen before, yes, and long, silk-white hair, but everything else was so far beyond what Danny had imagined that it was hard to even comprehend.
And yet it suited him perfectly.
His skin was blue, like summer twilight, warm and rich.
His face glowed in the same soft, steady way as the birds, and set in it, his eyes were a kindly red. There were four on his right side but his left had only two; a deep black scar tore its way down most of his face and left two empty sockets in its wake. It was interrupted only by his primary eye on that side, and Danny felt tender relief that the old wound hadn’t taken that one, too.
White filaments made up a thick ruff around the collar of his– No, that wasn't a cloak, those were wings. Huge, dramatic, moth-like wings, layered over one another. There had to be dozens of them, all the way down his back. They were as dark and starry as the sky on the outside, but some were turned towards Danny to show the luminous, moon-pale undersides.
Below that–below that, Danny couldn’t see. The ground he was on was too high, and Clockwork too large. The ground–
He wasn’t on the ground.
Finally, like disjointed pieces of a puzzle, the details became whole. The uneven place where he lay, with its softness and whorls of ridges and creases. The warmth of it, and the placement.
The–the blood.
He was on Clockwork’s upturned hand.
Forget the rest of it. When, and how, did Clockwork get so big?
Danny chirred a question. Wordless, overwhelmed and wondering.
(And why was Clockwork bleeding?)
“You are safe, little one. My little one.”
Danny chirred again, a little cross. That didn’t answer anything.
Clockwork only smiled, and then there was a gentle rocking motion as they moved. Like clouds, the trees in the distance slid sideways with deceptive speed.
Danny settled, feeling sleepy, slow, and stupid, but still safe. Like he should be able to make this all make sense, like this should make sense, if he was just a little more awake and aware, but that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t, because he would be protected.
And then, Clockwork tilted, and his hand jostled, and though he didn’t become more visible, they were suddenly surrounded by great spikes of grass and flowers, stories tall. Some of them drooped, heavy with seeds or droplets of dew. They hung huge and heavy from the stalks, like fruit ripe to bursting.
Danny blinked. Frowned. Blinked again.
There was something, an idea, that made sense. But it hung just out of reach, blurry, and every time he reached for it, the thought passed through his mental fingers like the morning mist.
It was, it should have been, obvious.
Clockwork would know. Danny chirred his question again.
“It will come to you,” Clockwork said. ”Give it time.”
Clockwork cleaned him off gently with a huge, damp cloth, taking special care with his ruff, antennae, and wings. He mopped up the blood pooling beneath Danny as well, with a reassurance that Danny was welcome to more if he needed it. With another hand, he laid another huge flower down next to him. The stem where Clockwork had held it glowed briefly, before it faded into the relative dark of early morning, leaving the flower with the same odd coloration as the tree leaves earlier.
Dawn was still hours off. He wasn’t in the net.
Danny looked up.
He’d wondered what it would be like to stargaze with Clockwork without the net. Apparently, the answer was wonderful.
The stars were still so beautiful. More beautiful, now. There was such an incredible array of color and brightness in the sky, like a living painting. There was scarcely any black left in it.
Danny blinked, slow. He rubbed his face with his hands, lingering over his ears - which felt long and soft, like a cat’s or a rabbit’s, he must really be sleepy - and the long fluffy things that had sprouted from his head. They twitched under his fingers.
He looked up at Clockwork, still hoping for an answer and… Clockwork had things growing from his head, too, now that he looked. He’d mistaken them for hair, before, but while Clockwork certainly had plenty of that, braided, beaded, and beribboned, that wasn’t all he had.
They were antennae. Four of them. White, fluffy, and softly glowing. They were much longer, compared to Clockwork’s body, than Danny’s were compared to his. Danny raised his hands to feel his again. He had two. And, maybe, behind each, a ticklish little nub.
It felt…right, that they should both have antennae, though. Satisfying. Comforting, like a hug. Like the stroking had been, and the blood.
What else did Danny and Clockwork share, now?
Danny’s eyes trailed carefully over Clockwork’s face.
Danny was pretty sure he only had two eyes, but he touched his face again, just to make sure. Then his ears… Clockwork had big, long ears, too, the edges of them soft with white fur. Just like his ruff. Danny’s ruff was black shot with silver and… it was growing from his skin. It wasn’t part of a blanket, which meant…
He twisted his head to check.
There was no blanket. Danny had wings. They were wrinkled and slightly damp, but they were wings, just like Clockwork’s, although he didn’t have nearly as many. Two sets, to Clockwork’s uncountably many.
He also had a tail. And only two arms, to Clockwork’s four. Somehow, in the moment, this seemed less important than the wings.
His eyes kept returning to his wings.
The outsides looked just like the darker parts of the sky did now, streaked with meteor silver and edged with Auroral green. The insides were the same vivid colors as the Aurora itself. Pinks, purples, blues, and greens all dancing together.
They were beautiful. He definitely, definitely should not have them.
He wanted them.
He shouldn’t want them.
He did.
He drew them close to his body and looked up.
There was a huff of fond laughter. “Remember to fan them out, my little fledgeling. We want them to dry well.”
Oh. Right. Danny unfolded his wings again, a little embarrassed he’d forgotten.
And then he returned his attention to the stars. He was determined to enjoy this for however much longer this might last. Maybe this would all make sense in the morning. Maybe all of this would be taken away from him. Either way, neither was true now.
Now, Danny was here with Clockwork, looking up.
Now, the sky was vast and beautiful.
Later, his eyes started to feel heavy again. He pulled the flower close, and began to absent-mindedly chew on the petals in an attempt to stay awake. He didn’t want to miss anything else.
Despite his efforts, his eyes began to droop. His head kept falling into his neck fluff, and the flower tumbled from his hands.
Clockwork plucked it from where it fell, and replaced it with a blanket, just Danny’s size.
“Some inevitabilities we must fight,” said Clockwork, “but this isn’t one of them, my dear child.”
For another few moments, he kept his eyes stubbornly on the sky. Another pair of meteors fell, and he wished, perhaps selfishly, that this could last forever.
But, he admitted to himself with a sigh, he was very tired.
Danny curled up in Clockwork’s hand, tucking his head under the wings he was careful to keep fanned, and his tail around his head.
“Rest, my little one,” said Clockwork’s voice, already distant. “We can talk more when you are rested.”
And Danny did.
Dawn.
The kiss of the sun on the horizon. The beginning of a new day. The banishment of all things of the night.
Danny jackknifed straight up as if its fire had been poured directly into his veins, heart pounding. He woke just in time to see his new wings, his beautiful, terrible, fully spread wings evaporate like the morning dew.
The antennae, the tail, and the fur that had grown around his neck and shoulders and down his spine stayed.
More concerningly from Danny’s perspective, his perspective didn’t change. He stayed small, just the right size to fit snugly in the palm of Clockwork’s hand.
Clockwork’s wings stayed. So did his extra eyes, his antennae, his skin color, and everything.
This wasn’t a dream.
Or there really had been drugs in the food Clockwork gave him.
Why, oh why, was that the best case scenario right now? Why was the best possible answer to the question of what was happening that he was just really really high?
Because if he was just drugged, that meant he was only normal human stupid. People took stupid drugs accidentally and on purpose all the time. But if it wasn’t drugs, if this was real… That meant he’d somehow wandered into a world where his parents were right, had always been right, and he was probably about to get eaten.
“I would not, and will not, eat you,” said Clockwork. “I never would.”
“I don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do!” hissed Danny, pulling on his hair. “You turned me into some kind of– of moth boy.”
“You would have turned regardless, trapped so thoroughly and so long on a faerie door on a night like that. I simply made sure that it was kinder.”
“Kinder than what?”
“Any number of things. Any number of fates. They do not give much more mind to cruelty than your parents.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It was their trap you fell into, dear one. Without their actions, you could be human, still; safe and warm at home. Though,” and here Clockwork smiled so gently that Danny couldn’t help but be comforted despite himself. “You are safe, and you are warm. And you could be home as well.”
Danny hunched his shoulders. “What,” he squeaked, “is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that as you are, you would be in danger with those who made the net that trapped you. I mean that you would be welcome in my home, and cared for, and safe. You are not the first lost and lonely child I have found. Nor the first with parents who should have protected them, and did not.”
“You’ve kidnapped other kids?”
“I have adopted other children. Other children, who were not cared for as they should have been, not loved as they deserved. As you deserve.”
“My parents love me just fine,” Danny snapped.
“I see,” said Clockwork, and he seemed sad. “And your presence here in the night? Alone, without even a light to see by?”
“I snuck out. And I brought a flashlight with me.”
“Alone,” said Clockwork.
“I thought the woods were safe.”
“Why? Did your parents tell you they were?” asked Clockwork, eyes narrowed and nose flaring.
“No! No, they said they were full of monsters.”
“So they didn’t teach you we could be dangerous?”
“No, I–I didn’t believe them.”
“My child, humans can be dangerous. Even to other humans. Surely, you know–”
“I know that,” interrupted Danny. “I didn’t think you existed.”
Clockwork frowned. “Your parents set cruel traps for the unwary.”
“Because they are crazy. Were crazy?” Danny moaned, burying his head in his hands. He resisted the urge to start preening his antennae and fluff. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Their cruelty is the same,” said Clockwork, “Regardless of whether you believed the target existed. And they let you go hungry.”
“That wasn’t their fault. They made dinner. It just… didn’t work out.”
“Then whose fault was it?” asked Clockwork. “Yours? Your sister’s? As parents, they should provide for you, not leave you to fend for yourself.”
“They didn’t leave us to fend for ourselves,” scoffed Danny, crossing his arms.
“What do you call them leaving to go test what was left of that chicken?”
“That was– Okay, but what happened to the chicken was really weird–”
“It was not the first time, or the only time, that they abandoned you in favor of crafting their weapons and traps.”
Danny shook his head. “They love us. They love me.”
“Sometimes, that is not enough.”
“Sometimes it is. Of course it is. They love me. They love me enough to–” Danny swallowed, fighting down grief and horror. “I’m not leaving them. Or Jazz.”
Swallowing hadn’t helped. It had only shoved the churning knot of emotion down into his chest where it could reach awful vines around his heart and squeeze.
His hands were shaking.
God, what would Jazz do if he randomly disappeared? They annoyed the heck out of each other, and Jazz definitely held some of the things she did for him over his head for guilt trips, but he didn’t doubt she loved him. He didn’t doubt she would be frantic if he vanished.
He chirred again, mournfully, and only looked up again at Clockwork’s light touch.
“If love is enough,” said Clockwork, softly, ”then shouldn’t it be enough that I love you?”
“I–I don’t know,” said Danny.
Because the thing was, he didn’t doubt that Clockwork loved him. Nor that Clockwork would nurture and protect him, as he already had. It was easy, terribly easy, to imagine snuggling under Clockwork’s wings or into his ruff and trusting that he would be safe.
Danny pinched his eyes shut. “I’m going back.”
“As you are? Knowing how they would treat those they consider monsters?”
“Yes. They’re my parents. They love me.”
“Through this forest, and all of its dangers?”
“Yes.”
“Through all the hazards of that human city?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing I can do will dissuade you?”
“No.” Although, Danny reflected, Clockwork could certainly stop him physically. All he would have to do was hold him. But Danny would fight him. He’d fight, and he’d never stop fighting, and trying to get back home, no matter what. No matter how much Clockwork seemed to care for him, or how gentle and kind he was.
Clockwork sighed. “Then I have no choice. I will let you return.”
“You– You will?” asked Danny, suspiciously. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
“Yes. But I would not have you killed out of hand, my child, as would certainly happen if you were to return as you are now. First, let me show you how to change.”
“I don’t want to change anymore,” said Danny. “I don’t. I don’t.” The fear was a beating heart inside of him, the idea of more change, unknown and untraveled.
“Perhaps I should say, change back.”
“I can be human again?” A needle of hope lanced through his chest. But would he ever see Clockwork again?
“Not precisely,” said Clockwork, before Danny could dwell. “No more than you are now. But it was the doorway that changed you, and doorways are of the between rather than here or there. Thus, you are of both sides of the door, not just one. You are still half human.”
Danny sat down. “I am?” he asked, voice wavering. He wasn’t going to cry. Not now.
“Yes,” said Clockwork. “You are half human… and half faerie. Half of their house, and half of mine, tied by blood, if not birth.”
Danny remembered. He remembered drinking Clockwork’s blood (again, what had he been thinking?) and how good it had tasted.
He hoped that wasn’t going to be, like, a recurring thing.
“So, what do I do?” he asked.
“First,” said Clockwork, “you ought to take off your clothing, so it doesn’t tear.”
“So it doesn’t…?” Danny looked down at himself. Maybe he should have realized earlier, but he wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d put on yesterday. Which made sense. At his current size, they would have been far too big. Instead, he was wearing simple white layered robes that had openings in the back for his wings and tail.
“I will have to get you something enchanted to change sizes, or to come when you transform, should you choose to remain and change often,” continued Clockwork. “But I was able to make these on short notice, and they were suitable for the night.”
“You made these?” asked Danny, oddly touched. He was supposed to be mad at Clockwork. He was supposed to be afraid of him. But both of those feelings just ran out of his hands like water out of a fist.
“I did,” said Clockwork.
“What happened to my clothes?”
Clockwork shifted one of his wings, showing what was beneath it. Silver buckles and pocket watches shone brightly against dark silk and leather. Other things, like bottles, herbs, and what looked like a small spyglass hung from belts or were secreted in pockets. Danny’s ratty jeans and t-shirt stood out like a sore thumb.
“Oh,” said Danny. “Okay. Um.” His hands curled around the edge of the tunic-like top portion of the robes. “Don’t look.”
Clockwork closed his eyes.
“Now what?” asked Danny, who very much was not enjoying being naked in the open like this.
“We are creatures of the night sky,” said Clockwork, eyes still shut. “We are of the Stars and the Moon.”
“The moon is up during the day, too. It’s up right now.”
“So it is,” agreed Clockwork. “But so is the Sun that drowns out the Stars.”
“The sun is also a star.”
“So it is. But it is not like other Stars.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It is not like other stars to us, or to humans. It is the light by which so many see. It is what divides day from night. It is, you see, what has clipped your wings.” Danny shifted slightly, the missing weight of his wings both foreign and familiar.
(There was so much to unpack. He hadn’t any time.)
“Why is it different?”
“Its proximity, perhaps. We can discuss it at a later time, if you wish. I would enjoy such a conversation.”
Danny hadn’t really thought about there being a ‘later’ with Clockwork, but… The thought of never seeing Clockwork again made his heart squeeze painfully, so he shoved it away.
“In any case,” continued Clockwork, “for those like yourself to change, you reach for one or the other. For the day or the night. The light or the dark. The Moon or the Sun. However you would like to think about it. You give precedence within yourself to one or the other.”
“Is it harder when they’re close to one another in the sky, like now?” Danny asked.
Clockwork smiled, though he kept his eyes shut. “As I do not transform that way, I do not know myself. My other children may have more comparable experiences, and we all are more comfortable under the phase we were born under.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be running into your children any time soon,” said Danny. Seeing them would, after all, mean that Clockwork had succeeded in kidnapping Danny, too. Even if it meant that he’d see Clockwork again…
“Even so. You will be able to see for yourself before long. Reach out, now. Can you feel them?”
Clockwork had a lot of confidence in Danny being able to figure this out quickly, huh.
(Despite still being mad at Clockwork - he was mad, he was - Danny didn’t want to disappoint him.)
Reach out… to something inside himself. Which was also outside himself? He wasn’t entirely clear on how literal the connection to the moon and sun was. But… Right. Okay. He could do this. He didn’t want to be a little gremlin moth thing that Clockwork - or, heck, an average bird - could carry off at a moment’s notice.
He closed his eyes.
Day and night. Light and Dark. Moon and sun. This was the kind of Yin and Yang stuff Sam sometimes got into. Balance and changing balance.
If he was reaching for the sun - for the Sun, the idea of the Sun - he should reach for heat, shouldn’t he? Heat and life and truth.
He could feel it, on his skin, warming him, cutting through the coolness of the morning. He imagined that warmth sinking through him, filling him up.
But there was warmth inside him, too. It built in his chest and left his lungs with every breath. It churned in his heart and coursed through his veins like the blood that helped to carry it. It was easy to take that, and imagine light to accompany it, centered at his heart. To imagine it reaching out as the sunlight reached in. He imagined it growing, brightening, pushing out against the inside of his skin, chasing away the dark, chasing away the moonlight and starlight and Aurora. Gold, chasing out black and silver.
Except… not entirely.
The sun was also a star, and all moonlight had once been sunlight. They mixed at the edges, blending comfortably, linked inexorably.
(There was magic he would be able to touch through this link that few others could. He understood this instinctively - but he was not yet ready for it, and the feeling was pushed away, put aside for a later, more appropriate day.)
This was the Sun, a tiny spark of it held within himself.
(There was the Moon, dark but no less itself, no less present and pulling for its invisibility during the day.)
And… the balance shifted.
He wouldn’t be able to explain what it felt like, to fall back into his skin. Not now. Not today.
Maybe not even if he lived a hundred years.
(Maybe he would, something whispered in his ear. Who knew how long moth-things lived?)
But he found himself at his proper human teenager size, cradled in Clockwork’s arms, no fluff or tail in sight.
Still naked, though.
He snatched his clothes from Clockwork, and, blushing furiously, ran behind a tree to change.
It was strange, walking next to Clockwork. The… Danny wasn’t actually sure what Clockwork was. Mothman? Moth monster? Anyway, Clockwork was still way taller than him, and the way his ruff and wings made him seem bulkier made Danny feel a little bit better about initially mistaking him for a bear.
The walk itself was still weird and awkward. Danny kept drifting closer to Clockwork, and then when Clockwork’s wings ruffled out towards him, as if to part or turn back to let him shelter under them, he flinched away, walking as far apart as the trees would allow.
Danny wondered if one of the things Clockwork had given him to eat had been some kind of… family love potion, and if it would ever wear off. Despite no longer having any fur, his skin still itched for Clockwork to touch him, pet him, hold him.
Although, for that to be perfect, he’d need to change back. Shrink back down until Clockwork could hold him securely in one hand and pet him, head to tail, with the other.
Which– No. No. He was never going to turn back into a moth. He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t ever going to have antennae, or wings, or a tail ever again.
… Clockwork had a tail. A long one, longer than Danny’s had been, compared to his body. It trailed on the ground like the train of a dress, and both the left and right side of it was completely lined with moth wings, as opposed to Danny’s where there were only wings next to the little bulb at the end. Which Clockwork also had. It flickered with light, like a lightning-bug’s tail.
Danny wondered if his tail would do that, too, under the right circumstances.
Not that it mattered. Again, weird fairy door magic or whatever, he was going to be human from now on. Yep.
(Wow, the more he thought that, the less convincing he got. That was sad, actually.)
They reached the edge of the forest. Amity Park seemed to sparkle in the light. Too bright. Too artificial. Unreal, after the events of the night.
“Here is where we part, for now,” said Clockwork. “If you need me, you will be able to find me.” Could he say anything that didn’t sound ominous and weighty?
“Right,” said Danny. He hesitated, then, impulsively, hugged Clockwork. He shouldn’t have. Clockwork was exactly the kind of monster his parents had always warned him about, and was an admitted serial kidnapper who had spied on his family and turned him into a moth.
But he couldn’t imagine leaving without hugging Clockwork. Just once.
Clockwork hugged him back, with all four arms and what had to be a dozen wings. It was the best hug he’d ever had - even if it was also the most terrifying.
Then, Clockwork leaned down so that his lips were next to Danny’s ear. He whispered to him a simple handful of words. Most of them were familiar. His name. His full name, the one on his birth certificate, the one his parents and sister used when they were really upset with him. But… one of them he hadn’t heard before. Not once. Not ever.
It was still his name.
He knew this with the same surety as he knew the rest of his name. He also knew it hadn’t been his name before last night.
It was his name… because it was Clockwork’s. It was a family name, belonging to him as indelibly and as truly as the name ‘Fenton,’ one that bound him not only to Clockwork, but to the rest of Clockwork’s kin.
It did more than that, too. When Clockwork spoke his name, his true, full name, it was as if every molecule in his body had been magnetized and his name was a magnet. He was held still by it, at perfect attention. Whatever Clockwork wanted to say, whatever he wanted to do, Danny had no choice but compliance.
Not that, in the moment, he wanted another choice.
“Follow your conscience, my dear, sweet child,” said Clockwork. “I want that for you, always. But when you do, please… Have a care for yourself, too. Do not needlessly throw yourself into deadly danger.”
Danny, pinned to Clockwork’s chest, nodded.
Clockwork, with palpable reluctance, released him, hands tracing along his cheeks before falling away. “Be safe, Danny.”
Danny nodded again, and stepped backwards, out of the trees and into the sunlight. He didn’t know why he felt so sad, all of a sudden. He was going home. He’d avoided being permanently kidnapped or eaten. He was fine.
He turned away.
He was going home.
Stay tuned for the sequel. :)
#danny phantom#Lost Time#The portal accident#Phantasy Phest 2023#Clockwork has low opinions of the Fenton Parents#Body Horror#Danny gets to say Fuck#tw: blood drinking#tw: moths
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Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.
previously, in harrowbean the ninth:
this happened
currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:
so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand
which is never straightforward
that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes
we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it
so get ready for bad math
this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep
I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best
SO
the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated
the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out
ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket
I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication
because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened
harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks
let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it
the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules
so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue
and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue
so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue
I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together
all of this is relative, since time in space is ????
but I need to do this for my own peace of mind
if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?
I need to organize things
I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it
this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd
ANYWAY, MOVING ON
or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time
here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip
this is ortus
if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by
harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"
the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about
like a ghost or whatnot
she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged
ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it
so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable
[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit
don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category
and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them
argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help
side note done]
so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people
she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people
whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean
we're here for you
and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you
I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk
so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship
she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't
she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot
WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!
I mean, it's not great that she's suffering
but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL
more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive
I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon
it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss
but with an inanimate object
I'm really liking that dynamic
is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other
ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there
just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think
not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh
not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way
I don't know about this guy tbh
so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us
also, another day without camilla
I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...
#luly reacts to tlt#harrow the ninth#tlt#harrow the ninth spoilers#tlt spoilers#the locked tomb#long post#gif cw
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I've never done a full breakdown of everything that happened to my version of Vincent while he was under the knife (although there is a partial breakdown from like 12 years ago on Ask Vincent Valentine), but @spinejackel tagged my recent Vincent doodle gushing about autopsy scar (Vincent Has a Y-Incision headcanon supremacy!) so I figured it was probably a good time. This is also probably the best method, since I can apply the right tags and trigger warnings to hopefully keep it from hitting the people who would be disturbed.
For anyone who doesn't know, figuring out the fucked up physiology of victims of science is like my entire jam. I think this is what happens when you let a chronically ill child watch Akira and the original Bubblegum Crisis OVA and most of the works of Masamune Shirow. All that before FF7 even existed. This means that the explanation under the cut may seem excessive, and this post is very long. I've been building it over over a quarter century, I don't think there's any avoiding it at this point.
Warnings for body horror, nonconsensual body modification, medical horror and torture. Basically, if there's anything you can think of related to becoming a victim of science under the rule of an unethical sci-fantasy oligarchy, it's probably in here to some degree. It's explained plainly and simply, in clinical but not visceral detail.
My headcanons for what Hojo did to Vincent are pretty specific, albeit not precisely comprehensive; 27 years later I still don't really have a particularly solid concept for how he turned Vincent into a shapeshifter, although at least we know it's not something entirely specific to Vincent—Hojo repeated that facet of the experiment in Azul, but not in any other SOLDIER operative even in DeepGround, implying that it's only possible if very specific physiological conditions are met. The minimal concept I do have involves a twisted application of the concept of incarnate summoning as it appears in FFXIII-2, but it's very vague and also not the topic of this post. Maybe later.
Regarding the Y-incision/autopsy scar, my headcanon is that once Hojo tweaked Vincent into being able to regenerate from any injury—an enhancement that is confirmed to be entirely Hojo's work in Dirge—the professor of course felt it necessary to run various tests quantify the usefulness of his handiwork. He did this first by inflicting various surface injuries, then by causing more extreme bodily trauma, which eventually culminated in Hojo removing the majority of Vincent's internal organs in order to measure how long it took them to grow back and, assuming they did grow back, how the new ones compared to Vincent's original parts.
To be able to observe this as closely as possible, Hojo kept Vincent's torso open for the entire process—which he repeated twice more in order to check the weight, size and structure of the newly-grown organs in comparison to the originals. This study proved that most of them did grow back, but the majority of them stopped developing much earlier than was appropriate for Vincent's age and size. The difference was consistent, Hojo just never figured out why most of them grew back smaller and less-developed.
The reason this happened is based the fact that most of the organs in the human trunk are used in digestion and other related processes, and Vincent's regeneration means he doesn't need to eat or drink anymore. His body only expended as much energy as was completely necessary to develop those organs to the point of being functional rather than normal, because they're not really necessary. Vincent is glad he still has them, though, because he does still occasionally eat (usually in social situations) and also he'd be really sad if he couldn't even have coffee.
Vincent's brain activity remained normal during the entire process, although that may have something to do with Hojo driving a bunch of fluid lines into his head and flooding the inside of his skull with mako to keep him awake the whole time even while deprived of oxygen. (Rebirth spoilers, but seeing the bit in the Nibelheim Protorelic questline where Hojo does something super similar to this, after this has been my headcanon for decades, was a trip.)
Two organs didn't grow back at all: Vincent's appendix and one kidney. This was also the result of efficient energy expenditure, as the human appendix isn't necessary for survival, and only one kidney is really required. (Each time Hojo removed the new kidney, the one that grew back would be on the opposite side, which bothered Hojo to no end.)
His lungs grew back a little larger, possibly because his skeletal structure never quite recovered after his first transformation into Galian—his arms and legs are noticeably too long for his body, although not to the point of looking impossible, and likewise his ribcage settled to breadth that would allow for larger lungs. He doesn't really need these anymore either, related to his brain being exposed to so much mako during the process that it can now operate without oxygen if necessary, but switching himself over from aerobic to anaerobic respiration is really unpleasant and Vincent tries to avoid it when he can.
His heart was pretty normal by the time Hojo was done with him, although his heartrate had dropped to like 20bpm even when elevated. Again, if respiration isn't necessary, there's not much reason for the system to be active. (By the time Lucrecia was done this had dropped to around 5bpm on average, although it's completely arrhythmic and jumps all over the place when he's not either particularly active or on the verge of a transformation.)
This was the experiment that left Vincent susceptible to degradation, which Hojo didn't realize until after finally closing him back up. Upon realizing that Vincent's body wasn't responding properly to a different test (a repetition of an earlier experiment related to the regeneration of external tissues and features), Hojo just kinda threw him in a tube to be disposed of at a later date, kinda like that scene in Arrested Development where there's that dead dove in a bag in the fridge. The incision healed at some point during the period that Lucrecia was working on him, but early enough in her work that the tissue couldn't flawlessly regenerate (like it does in the present), leaving him with one more gnarly scar on top of all the rest.
Vincent is self-conscious about all the physiological changes brought on by what was done to him, often to the point of loathing. His left arm is the worst—it rotted off while he was in the throes of degradation and grew back as something that he hesitates to call his arm—but Vincent hates that Y-incision scar almost as much. Some days they tie.
(It has come up in appropriately horrified conversation with Shalua that, considering how his regeneration works, Vincent could probably get rid of all the scars on his chest if he somehow peeled the skin off his torso in a single swath. He will not be doing that. Besides, it might grow back the wrong color/texture/etc, like his left arm. Not worth the risk, much less the suffering.)
Also I gotta finish off this entry with the extremely stupid headcanon reveal that Vincent's (honestly fairly impressive) dick was cut off during the first round of bodily trauma regeneration tests—and Hojo has never felt the sort of rage he experienced upon discovering that it grew back bigger than before. This occurred early enough in the experiments that Vincent was not awake for it, and thus has no idea how the fuck this happened, and does not want to talk about it ever thank you very much. I've never mentioned it in public anywhere because it is extremely stupid, but I hope someone out there finds it as funny a concept as I do.
#vincent valentine#headcanon warning#body horror tw#torture tw#medical torture tw#it's all described in scientific detail#not visceral at all#but it's still very much horror#so please be aware#and do not engage if you're not into that#fandom ramble
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The Witch’s Apprentice - Part 1
cw: demon summoning, nightmares, more tags will be added as the story continues
male demon x afab reader
Word count: 4k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
“You need to take this seriously,” Eden snapped at you, concern written across her face.
“I am, I promise.” You did your best to sit up straight and look serious.
You had been waiting for today for years, you would not mess it up by making her think you didn’t care about it.
You understood why she was high strung, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t too. Summoning a demon was something that was risky even with years of experience, having someone with absolutely no experience join her could potentially put both your lives at risk.
Not that you’d let anything happen. You wouldn’t be doing this if you thought it put Eden in any sort of danger. You’d been preparing for years, you were certain you could manage observing without messing up anything too vital.
This confidence did not stop Eden from going over the rules over and over again. “You will speak to him minimally, you will not approach him, you will not do anything he asks, you will not so much as look at him. You are here to learn, alright? You can watch me and that’s it. Anything else is for me to do, not you.”
You nodded eagerly. “Understood.”
She sighed and her face softened slightly, looking you up and down as you did your best to project confidence and capability. “Seriously. I’m going to be out of it while I’m working on the spell bindings so it’s just going to be you and him, if you really think you’re ready…”
“I am,” you interjected, wincing as you realized that interrupting her probably wouldn’t increase her confidence in you.
You could see her reconsider letting you in, that familiar frustration flitting across her face. “...if you really think you’re ready, I need you to promise me you’ll trust me and just observe, no matter what. If you look at him or talk to him it just gives him more ways to manipulate you and try to gain the upper hand. I know all his tricks, you don’t. I will have things under control as long as you don’t interfere.”
You’d already promised her a million times and you’d promise her a million more if it meant her trusting you with this and you getting to actually learn.
You’d helped her do a few hexes, warded your living space, little things that she felt you were up to the task of doing.
But this wasn’t that. This was the big leagues.
A million more promises proved to be unnecessary as she moved you to a specific spot on the floor. “You stay there until we’re done, okay?”
You nodded, settling onto the ground, and she got right to work, drawing the sigils on the floor and gathering everything she needed. It was kind of incredible, how it was all second nature to her. You were used to having to check your notes every few seconds but she did it all effortlessly. You kept checking your notes as she worked anyways, making sure that everything was alright. You trusted her implicitly but it was better you caught a mistake than a demon did.
Even with your eyes trained steadily on Eden you knew the second he arrived. The air felt heavier. When he spoke, his voice felt like it was coming from inside your head, echoing inside your skull. It wasn’t particularly loud and yet you could feel the vibrations from it in your bones. Any doubts you had about the creature's power disappeared as soon as you heard his voice. Maybe that was the point, maybe that was part of his bag of tricks that Eden had talked about so extensively. “Listen to me, witch, I will make you regret ever so much as thinking my name if you…”
The energy in the room shifted as he trailed off and you kept your eyes pointed at Eden. Even still, you knew that he had noticed you, could feel him sizing you up.
“Who is this?”
“No one you need to worry about,” Eden replied, her expression steady and emotionless. Her discipline was impressive, she could just shut off everything. No one could glean any information from her like this. You had no idea how she did it. No matter how hard you tried to emulate it your emotions always shone through.
“You bringing pets to our sessions now? And I thought you liked my company.”
Eden didn’t defend you. Why would she? Of course the demon was being rude to you, he was a demon. You’d known he was going to try and provoke an outburst from either of you, to throw you off your game. Some irrational part of you still couldn’t help but be a little upset that it hadn’t worked, that Eden hadn’t sprung to your defense and was instead just continuing on with business as usual.
But that was why she was the one summoning demons and you were the one who wasn’t even allowed to look up.
It didn’t take long before Eden entered her trance. You focused on the ground, trying to keep yourself from imagining what the demon next to you must look like while you waited for her to return and do something that you could learn from instead of sitting motionless in front of you.
Surely he would look frightening. From what you knew, demons could choose their forms, of course he’d try and scare you. And even if it was his natural form, he was a demon, you couldn’t imagine that they looked pleasant.
Everyone who had seen one has called them terrifying, imposing creatures. You didn’t know how much of that was true and how much was an exaggeration, something to keep ill-prepared witches from trying their luck to make an ill-advised deal with one of the creatures.
You’d anticipated the fear and the feeling of danger you felt sitting there, nervously running though the rules in your head, but what you hadn’t anticipated as time ticked on was how awkward demon summoning could be.
You felt his eyes on you as you just sat there on the floor, refusing to speak or make eye contact. It felt more rude than scary.
He started to speak, amusement tinging his voice. “And what’s your name, little one?” Some of the power in it was gone, the performance fading away now that Eden couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. Were you not worthy of trying to terrify?
“I’m not that dumb.”
Shit.
The words came out before you realized you weren’t meant to be speaking at all, even to rebuff insultingly simple questions. You kept your head pointed at the floor, set on following at least one rule.
He chuckled, a noise that was oddly pleasant considering the circumstances. “I had to try. Any chance I’ll be able to convince you to break these bindings?” he asked, and you heard him shuffle around, probably pushing up against the invisible walls set by the summoning circle on the floor.
You shook your head, keeping your mouth firmly shut.
“No? I’m Lucien.”
You nodded. “I know.”
That was one of the only things you did know about the creature. His name, the reason you could summon him and keep him trapped like this. Besides that you were in the dark, you didn’t even know what he looked like.
You knew about demons, of course. You’d done your homework, read all about them, every lesson and warning previous witches had painstakingly written for you to go over again and again. But you’d never actually encountered one before, didn’t really know what to expect other than danger.
Mockery dripped from his words as he spoke. “I know that you know, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. It’s just rude not to introduce yourself to a new friend.”
His quiet appraisal continued as you kept still, your gaze flicking repeatedly from the floor back to Eden, willing her to return.
“You're very quiet,” he noted, intent on filling the silence. “What has your witch told you about me?”
“Nothing good,” you huffed.
He didn’t need to know that really, she’d told you nothing at all, good or bad. You didn’t even know what she was doing right now, what the trance she was in was accomplishing. Every time you’d tried to push the issue you’d been shut down, told that was a matter for later.
“Did she scare you? I promise I’m not that bad, I don’t bite.” The mocking tone returned and you were reminded that he did not take you seriously.
You didn’t have much to go on but you pulled from the little bit of information you did have and shot back. “She said you're a miserable little creature.”
He laughed, sounding incredulous. “Is that what she said? I didn’t realize we were trading schoolyard insults. Well, at least you're blunt, better than those damn riddles your witch speaks in.”
That was a reminder of why you shouldn’t be talking to the demon. Eden had to choose her words very carefully, make sure that they couldn’t be misinterpreted, and here you were having a conversation without putting any real thought into your words.
You were intent on staying quiet, on at least trying to not mess things up any worse in the last few minutes. Or at least you hoped they were the last few minutes. You were proving to be worse suited to this than you’d hoped you would be.
Lucien’s barrage continued on but you tuned it out, staring Eden down, doing exactly as you were told. It didn’t take long to slip into your head, barely even hearing what the demon had to say any longer.
Eden’s eyes flew open, her gaze flicking upwards to where you assumed the demon stood, towering about you both based on the way she craned her head back.
She wasted no time with pleasantries, ignoring Lucien’s attempt to get her attention in favor of murmuring the hex that would banish him once more.
You hadn't even noticed how heavy and warm the air in the room had become until it suddenly cleared and you could breathe properly again.
You rushed to help her clean up now that the two of you were no longer in imminent danger, putting everything back right where you knew it belonged. This part you’d gotten good at, the cleaning up. It was the only thing Eden ever let you do on your own, harder to mess up than most things.
“Everything go according to plan?” she asked as she handed you some bones. They looked avian at a glance, probably from a vulture if you had to guess.
You nodded and she barely acknowledged your response.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” she added, scribbling something into the notebook that you were forbidden from looking inside of. “It’ll be the same protocol as today.”
You’d done it, you’d passed her test and you were being allowed to watch her work again. It took all the energy you had not to let out a squeak of excitement, trying to keep your smile to a reasonable level as you responded, “Thank you so much.”
You weren’t sure if it was the excitement or the nervousness that was causing time to move so slowly but whichever it was, you hated it with all your heart. The day seemed to take a lifetime to pass.
Even Eden setting up the spell seemed to take ages. You did your best not to fidget, trying to keep quiet and not bother her. You weren’t even nervous about him showing up, it was the waiting that really got to you.
A sigh of relief escaped you when that sense of dread filled the air and you were left to wait no longer.
This time around he noticed you immediately. “Aw, your lapdog returns. Be careful bringing them around here little witch, I might start ignoring you in favor of easier prey.”
Eden seemed entirely disinterested in what he was saying. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
That was the most he got out of her. Not that he didn’t keep trying, Eden was just focused on her work. She didn’t have to ignore him for long before she returned to her trance and the two of you were functionally alone again.
You kept your head down, your fidgeting returning in full force now that Eden was no longer conscious enough for you to bother her. It was a good thing to occupy your mind, staring down at your hands as you ignored the demon trying to get your attention.
You could hear him getting more and more frustrated at your seemingly endless fascination with your hands and the floor. “Come on, I’m trapped here by you two, the least you can do is talk to me while you keep me imprisoned.”
“You’re not imprisoned.” It came out faster and more defensive than you’d meant it to. You knew he was trapped, that he couldn’t leave the circle while Eden held him here, but imprisoned had felt so harsh and you couldn’t help but jump to defend your witch.
“What do you mean I’m not imprisoned? What do you think this circle does? Do you know nothing? Why does she even keep you around then?”
He struck a nerve and worse than that, you knew that he could tell. It wasn’t hard to decipher, your shaky inhale at the words giving you away. You didn’t even get the chance to speak before he started to push.
He cooed at you with a faux sympathy. “Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You don’t even know why she keeps you around. How could you, you’re probably as useless as you seem. Just sitting there, confused. Maybe I wasn’t so wrong when I called you her pet, it seems she’s trained you like one.”
He was getting through to you. Worse than that, he could tell that he was getting through to you.
“Please stop.” Your words were quiet. You knew they wouldn’t work on him, you weren’t foolish enough to not know that much, but you said them anyway. A soft plea made to be ignored.
“She never should have let you be here. Do you think something like this could get through to your witch? You probably had to beg to get to be here and still you’re letting her down. Does she know you’re speaking to me? All you had to do was sit there and you couldn’t even do that, maybe I should tell her what her little waste of space is up to.”
You were drowning. This was why Eden had told you not to speak to him, you knew this was why. He’d found a weakness and he was doing what any decent demon would, he was exploiting it. Everything was spiraling out of control so quickly and you felt as if you’d never be able to find your footing.
In a moment of panic, you did exactly what you’d been warned not to do. You looked up.
In the horror stories you’d read, the scariest part was always the not knowing. When it described the monster too much or showed it to you, it lost most of its power, no longer a strange amalgamation of what you’d least like to see and now just something. Something you can see and touch, the abstract terror gone. You’d been terrified, sure that when you looked up you’d feel dread wash over you. Some deep seeded primal fear of the demon, the creature meant to drag you into unimaginable horrors.
You didn’t. As soon as you looked up all that fear was gone and all you could see was someone. Admittedly, he was imposing. Bigger than any human you’d ever seen with an otherworldly gray skin tone and a twisting set of horns curling around a face that didn’t quite seem right. But he was there, in front of you, a real person. And you weren’t afraid.
He seemed baffled by your reaction. You supposed people typically didn’t visibly relax after seeing him for the first time.
“Hello,” you said, unsure of what else you should be doing. It probably wasn’t greeting him but you didn’t have any better ideas.
For the first time since you’d met, he was the one who seemed to be at a loss for words, taking in your calm face as you looked up at him.
Before he got a chance to figure out how to respond to your greeting or to exploit your discovered weakness any further, Eden snapped out of her trance once more.
Your chest tightened as you dropped your gaze. You wished more than anything you could still see him, that you could try and read his thoughts.
There were so many things he could say right now that would ruin you. You’d gone against everything Eden had said, showed weakness in so many ways.
And then he didn’t and it was almost worse. If he told her, you’d get shouted at, lose some trust. But why was he not saying anything, opting instead to throw insults at her, trying to get a response just as he’d been doing before.
Did he just care about you so little? Or was he saving up ammo, gathering things to hold over your head.
The air shifted to be lighter once more and despite that and the absence of the demon, you couldn’t quite manage to breathe properly.
Eden moved out of her summoning area, completely unaware of your inner turmoil.
As you stood to help her tidy everything up you couldn’t help but ask. “What are you doing with him?”
“What?” Eden seemed taken aback by the question.
“Why are you summoning him? The summonings and the trances must be for something, right?”
“That’s above your paygrade, sorry.” She was still putting away her supplies, barely paying any attention to you.
“Are all demons bad?” you blurted out, not taking the time to consider how it would sound.
The question escaped you before you had any real time to think about it. You were searching for answers, although to what you weren’t entirely certain.
Now you had her attention. She turned abruptly, trying to read you. “What did he say?”
“What?”
“Why are you asking this, what did he say?” Now she sounded protective, that tone you’d been longing to hear when Lucien had been coming at you before.
“I was just thinking.” It was a poor justification but you hoped she'd drop it. You knew she wouldn’t like your answer.
“You were thinking what?” Her words were harsh but you knew she was just worried. She had to be like that, especially when it involved stuff like this. She had to keep you safe.
You decided to let all your thoughts come spilling out. It was easier than coming up with some excuse and accidentally worrying her even more. “I don’t know. Lucifer was an angel and supposedly he wasn’t good so all angels clearly weren’t good, it seems kind of presumptuous to say that all demons are bad. How do we know? We can’t possibly have checked. I don’t even know how we would check. And if we can’t know then we’re what, just guessing who it’s okay to summon because they’re intrinsically evil and who should be left alone?”
“They’re created for evil, by evil, there’s no two ways about it. Leave the ethics to me, okay?”
It certainly wasn’t the answer you were searching for but you knew Eden was done with discussion.
You went to sleep that night with questions circling your head. You wanted to trust Eden, you did trust Eden, but you couldn’t help it. It was always like this, once a question rooted itself in your mind, you never could quite get rid of it.
But there was nothing you could do to answer it. You weren’t sure anyone had the answers you were looking for. Well, not anyone you could just ask. So instead, you tossed and turned with too many thoughts to go to sleep easily, until you were finally, mercifully spared from your busy mind for just a while.
You woke up in the forest, the roots pulsing under your feet and the branches reaching to block out the sky.
Something howled in the distance as the branches blocked out the sun above you. That was how it always started, making sure you couldn’t see anything but the forest around you. You recognized this. You’d been here.
You’d almost been swallowed up by it before, wrapped up in the twisting branches that snaked to block your escape, to isolate you.
You’d had this dream many times before, it had become almost comforting in its repetition. It felt like the forest reaching out for you, like it had staked a claim on your soul and was reminding you of where you would end up someday.
But this time, the dream changed. A familiar voice sounded from behind you, stuck in the same nest of roots and vines that you’d become ensnared in. “I didn’t try to choose a nightmare, funny how that works out.”
You turned to face the demon, his horns butting against the roof of your prison that was trying to close in on you. “This isn’t a nightmare,” you said, watching the branches reach towards you, moving to pull you closer and absorb you into the trees.
If this were anywhere else you’d have been surprised and afraid of the sudden appearance of the demon but not in your dream. Everything couldn’t help but feel natural and normal here.
“Isn’t it?” He cocked his head to the side and one of the branches wound around his horn.
“No,” you said as the roots ensnared your ankle, preventing you from running, even if you’d wanted to.
“What is it then?”
“A reminder.”
“Of?” His follow up questions came just as fast as your answers. You hadn’t meant to be so vague, you just hadn’t expected him to care this much about your inner workings.
“That I’m living on borrowed time.” You clarified, set on giving him a complete answer this time. “I don’t mind them, they make me grateful that my witch saved me. How are you in my dream anyways?”
Normally the trees had swallowed you up by now, but Lucien’s stature was halting their progress. “You’re bad at warding yourself. Your witch never lets me do this.”
Shit. You thought you had the warding down.
It occurred to you, probably later than it should have, that he hadn’t really done much to you other than talk. You knew he couldn’t really hurt you when he was visiting you like this, proper warding or not. The most he could do was fish for information or throw insults but he hadn’t been doing much of either. “And why are you here?”
“I was planning to threaten you but you seem to have distracted me.” He couldn’t counter the trees forever, your dream swallowing him up as a desperate attempt to get at you.
“Better luck next time.”
He phased out of existence before the branches got a chance to tear him apart like they’d done to you so many times and now, there was nothing standing in their way.
You woke with a start. The events of your dream weren’t hazy at all like they usually were. You remembered it all and groaned, getting out of bed in the middle of the night to read up on proper warding.
#terato#demon x reader#demon x human#monster boyfriend#monster bf#monster x human#monster x reader#the witch's apprentice#ive been sitting on this one for too long I needed to just start posting it
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love story (taylor's version)
pairing: wally darling x reader
tags: fluff, extremely romantic, established relationship and a secret tag!!
reader's pronouns: they/them
plot: Wally had the perfect date planned for you, with the help of everyone in the neighborhood, he could only hope for the best outcome of a special surprise made just for you.
sunnie, talk that talk: okay, so, MY MIND WOULDN'T LET ME SLEEP IF I DIDN'T WRITE THIS BEFORE LIKE OH MY STARRRSSSS, I NEEDED TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM SO BADLY. anyways, hope u guys enjoy as always, have a great reading sunshines <33
You checked your outfit five times in the last minute, trying to find a way to make it look even nicer.
Wally had, suddenly, decided to take you out on a date for the night. He only spoke about having a picnic to watch the sunset, claiming that he just really needed to have you by his side that day.
That was no problem, you would be by his side until the world ended and you were nothing but another skeleton under the dirt.
Still, you wanted to look nice! The best you could. Even after being his partner for such a long time, you couldn't help but still feel the butterflies whenever he talked to you, hugged you or kissed you. Having a crush on your boyfriend surely was one of the things that would never end.
Julie couldn't help you tonight, apparently, she had to work on some stuff that was really important. That was okay, you thought before noticing how hard it was to fix yourself without the help of your personal stylist.
You heard a knock on the door, he was here already?! In a hurry, you finished putting on your shoes/heels and left the house, completely forgetting to even bring a coat.
The first sight you had after leaving was Wally, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"For you, my dearest." He spoke, eyes staring right back at yours.
"Oh my!" You grabbed the bouquet, smiling and blushing like a teenager in love. "Thank you, they are lovely."
"Just as lovely as you." Wally kissed your cheek and held your hand.
You chuckled while hiding your red face in the bouquet. What a charmer. He pulled your hand, walking both of you to a specific area, and that was Poppy's garden. Fairy lights illuminated the place, a table rested with two chairs on the center of the yard. Candles sat on top of the table, giving it a romantic atmosphere.
"Oh my stars... Wally..." You had your hand covering your mouth.
"Did you liked it?"
"Don't be silly, I loved it."
He smiled softly, feeling proud of his work. Then, he went over to the table, pulling a chair and looking at you. Understanding the message, you chuckled before walking over there and sitting down.
"What a gentleman." You waved your hand like a fan while the other one settled the bouquet down by your side.
"Ha ha, only the best for my love!" He sat down by the other end of the table.
You decided to take a look on the table, surprising yourself. A bottle of champagne sat by the middle, two flute glasses being next to it. In front of you, a plate with your favorite dinner with a fork/spoon/chopsticks by the side of the dish.
"You somehow keep surprising me..." You looked at him. "Oh my stars, everything is... I'm way too amazed to find the words right now."
He chuckled at your reaction, leaving a smile finding is place on your face.
"Like I said, just the best for my beloved." He held his face with his hand, cupping it as he watched your expression turn into pure gratitude.
"Thank you so much for this, I'll love you even after the end of the world." You held your tears back, it was not the time to get so emotional.
"And I love you like Van Gogh loved the color yellow." Okay, he was gonna make you cry at some point.
He popped open the champagne, pouring ir into your glass and his. After that, you both started to talk about each other's day, you kept finding yourself mouth agape each time he came into intricate details about how he planned that afternoon for you. It looked like it was a long day for him, you laughed, were concerned, surprised and excited about each part of his story.
"So, you borrowed the fairy lights from Sally?" You looked over to the mentioned piece. "No wonder they looked so familiar."
"Yep, and it wasn't that easy to convince her, I had to tell her the surprise I was planning which made her immediately say yes." He chuckled.
"What surprise?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh- oh! Look, the Sun is starting to set." He pointed to the horizon.
You immediately turned, seeing the sky mix into beautiful colors as the Sun slowly set it's way down. You didn't even hear the chair that Wally was sitting on moving from it's place, while he got up and moved to your side.
"Dear, could you look here, please?" You did as told, feeling the air evaporate from your lungs.
There, in one knee, was Wally. In his hands, a box with a beautiful diamong ring was opened to you. Tears started rolling down your cheeks.
"Y/N L/N, ever since I first met you, I knew I was a gone man. You held my heart at first sight, like a puppeteer holds the strings of their puppet. I was never able to hide how I feel, being a sincere man at soul and heart. So when I confessed my feelings, and you accepted them with such an angelic smile, I felt like I had won the whole world. Ever since then, I knew I was made for loving you until the world ended, I dreamed about this moment from the very first week that I was able to call you mine. But now, I feel like that's not enough, I need you to be with me in more than just a boyfriend and partner, I need to see you when I set myself to sleep and wake up by your side, I need to come Home after painting and have you receive me with a hug, or the opposite, I don't mind staying at Home all day if it meant you would come back at some point to let me love you for the rest of the day, repeating in a loop." Wally stared at you with love, care and adoration, which made you fail even more with holding back more tears as they freely fell from your face. "So, I now propose to you, will you make me the happiest puppet on the Universe for the hundredth time, and marry me?"
Your answer was a sobbed "I do". After that, he took the ring and put it on your finger. You admired each details of what symbolized his eternal love for you, and began crying even more.
Not being able to hold yourself back anymore, you jumped at him, making both of you fall to the ground. You captured his lips with a kiss and made sure to trail more of them all over his face.
By the window, your friends watched with tears in their eyes, Poppy being the loudest sobber of them all while Eddie and Frank hugged each other, Howdy and Barnaby looked absolutely relieved that everything went well and Sally smiled while shining her brightest. Julie, crying in pure joy, held up a polaroid camera and took a photo of you and Wally, kissing with the sunset sky being the source of light to your figures. With a permanent marker, she wrote on the white frame of the picture.
"They said yes!"
sunnie, talk that talk: OKAY WOW THAT WAS VERY RUSHED. i didn't beta read, so sorry for any grammar mistakes TT, but i hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless!!
#welcome home#welcome home x y/n#welcome home x reader#welcome home x you#welcome home arg#wally darling#wally darling x reader#wally darling x y/n#wally darling x you#wally darling x self insert#okay wow that was a ride
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