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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Casual Ruin Pt. 2 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Part 1

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“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” I emphasize, shaking my head to further get the point across. “I’m not getting on that thing!”

Azriel tilts his head, still leaning against the motorcycle with casual arrogance and twinkling hazel eyes. “It’s perfectly safe. And we both know you love to ride.”

My face heats at that little joke, but I hold firm in my convictions. “Can’t we just walk?”

We’re going to a beach on his recommendation, but apparently, the one right behind us isn’t good enough. “No.”

“Okay, then why don’t we take the bus?”

He looks at me like I just suggested we crawl all the way their on our hands and knees. “No.”

He offers no other option, just looks at me and waits patiently.

“Don’t you trust me, dolcezza mia?” he purrs, sliding his hands in the pocket of his dark jeans and smiling.

The walls of my refusal start to crumble, because I’m such a sucker for that smile. I’m starting to think he knows it, too.

“I’m in a dress,” I point out weakly.

“With a swimsuit underneath.”

I try again. “My hair will get tangled.”

Azriel sighs like he’s over my shit, lips twitching. “You and I both know you’re dying to put a scarf over it like one of those cliché movies you love so much.”

Thelma and Louise is my favorite movie...

And he does look criminally handsome leaning against the motorcycle, dressed in black like always, sunglasses low on his nose.

An image pops into my mind of me, riding behind him with the sea a landscape behind us, scarf and red lipstick on, the sun high in the sky.

I purse my lips, and because he can tell he’s winning me over, his eyes turn amused and victorious.

What cements the deal is him saying, “I’d never let anything happen to you, Elain.”

His voice is so serious and deep, it sounds like he’s making a solemn vow to me. So I give in.

“Promise you’ll drive slow.”

Azriel dips his chin in agreement, and a huge smile breaks over my face as I run back inside.

Five minutes later, I step back out, still smiling like an idiot. Azriel now sits on the motorcycle, looking like something out of GQ, and he snorts as he looks at the additional scarf, lipstick, and sunglasses. “Donne.” Women.

Ignoring that display of sexism, I walk over to him and take his offered hand, sliding onto the bike behind him. My hands link in front of him, and he chuckles at how tightly I hold on to him as the machine under us rumbles to life.

Oh, God.

Slowly, like promised, he pulls away from the curb and onto the almost-empty street. Most people are at breakfast in one of the busy cafes or sitting on their porches, but one woman smiles as we pass because we obviously look freaking adorable.

I start to relax as we go, because like everything else he does, Azriel drives with complete control and confidence. He acts like nothing could go wrong with him in control, and it puts my nerves at ease. Honestly, I don’t know why I was worried in the first place.

He said he’d never let anything happen to me, and despite knowing him less than a month, I believe him.

He navigates us through the city and to a slightly larger road that runs along the coastline, and I take a minute to appreciate the movie moment.

He shifts to drive with one hand as we go, the other residing on my knee next to his hip. His thumb brushes over my skin softly, and I press my face to his neck, overwhelmed by the moment.

I never knew I wanted something like this, but considering I feel like I’ve been split open and stuffed with sunshine, I did.. He does that, I’ve noticed; somehow, he knows what I want before I do.

I’ve never asked him for anything, yet every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m receiving a present.

Just a summer fling, I remind myself, even as I press a kiss to the side of his neck.

We ride down the coastline for about twenty minutes, eventually coming to a stop and walking onto a completely abandoned beach.

It’s secluded, shielded by dunes on either side, and quiet. The sand’s almost white, and the water’s so blue, it looks like the background that comes with a new computer.

Paradise.

“How’d you find this place?”

Hands in his pockets, he jerks a chin towards a beautiful, sprawling property about a hundred yards from us. “Because I live right there.”

Despite sleeping with him for almost four weeks, I haven’t seen his house before now. I’ve seen him naked, yet for some reason, knowing where he sleeps at night feels more personal.

Maybe it’s because I get the feeling he’s letting me into his life a little by taking me here.

And maybe it’s because I feel like he never does that.

A smile pulls on my lips as I look between him and the house. He’s obviously trying to play it cool, but there’s a stiffness in his posture that isn’t usually there. I realize why, and my smile grows. “You like me.”

He scowls, making me grin. “Of course I like you, Elain.”

He says it like it’s obvious, and I narrow my eyes, stepping closer. “Yes, but you like me, too.”

He looks toward the sky and thoroughly tries to ignore me as I put my hands on his chest and smile up at him. I kiss the underside of his jaw softly, then murmur, “Don’t worry. I like you too.”

His lips turn up at that, and he presses a quick kiss to my lips, then takes my hand and tugs me towards the water.

Pulling off my sundress, I look over his apparel and raise a brow. “You’re swimming in that?”

Amusement dances in his hazel eyes as he responds, “Of course not.”

He pulls his shirt off, revealing his tan, tattooed chest, broad shoulders, and toned stomach. I sigh, fucking sigh, because looking like that should be illegal, and he laughs.

Then pulls his pants down.

If possible, my brows go up even higher at the sight of him in nothing but his black briefs. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Swimming,” he retorts simply, and before I understand what’s going on, he’s naked as the day he was born.

“Azriel!”

He turns and walks toward the sea, leaving me slack-jawed and with an uninterrupted view of his backside. And what a nice backside it is.

By the time he’s wading in the water, I’m still standing on the beach, eyes wide, watching him.

His black hair’s wet, hanging around his face like spilled ink, and the water’s so bright and blue against his tan skin and the dark lines of his tattoos.

He looks like a goddamn model, and I’m momentarily paralyzed at the sight of it.

“Venire qui.” Come here.

I walk far enough that the water brushes my toes with every wave, cool and calming and serene.

“You’re naked,” I point out like he might not be aware, still shocked.

“It’s a private beach, tesoro.”

I take a look around, even though I know it’s empty, and he laughs and walks backward, going deeper into the water. He’s relaxed as he wades in, like he does this every day.

For all I know, he does.

I’ve never been naked in public, but I’m assuming to be as comfortable with it as he is, it happens a lot.

Az shakes his head, water flying from his hair like rain, and my mouth drops open as things start to move in slow-mo. His tattooed shoulders are above the water, and he just watches me in that dedicated, heated way he always does.

I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from groaning. He notices, and even from the distance between us, I see his eyes darken. “Are you going to join me?”

His voice makes it sound like he’s asking if I’m going to join him in going nude, not just join him in the water.

“I think you have ulterior motives,” I say back.

He smiles that damn smile, running a hand over his jaw. “Always.”

I make the decision in less than a second and throw the bikini off in almost as little time, then sprint into the water to lessen the chance of anyone seeing me.

He laughs, a full-bodied laugh with his head thrown back, and mutters, “Ridicola.”

“You’re the ridiculous one,” I accuse as I swim over to him, scowling. “Getting naked at 11:30 in the morning.”

The water’s deep enough that I can’t stand, but given he’s half a foot taller than me, he can, so I brace my arms on his shoulders to stay afloat.

“There are no time constraints to when a person can be naked.” His hands span my rib cage, pulling me in close. “And with you, I happen to think you should stay this way all the time.”

My lips twitch. “My teachers might not appreciate that.”

He hums his agreement but seems distracted by the sight of me wrapping my legs around his waist and leaning back to float in the water.

“Bellissima,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t realize he’s even saying it. “Troppo bella per le parole.”

Too beautiful for words.

He spins us around in the water, causing me to laugh and relish the feel of the water swirling around me.

Between the sun warming my face, the cool water relaxing me, and the man making me smile, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

My life feels like a fairytale, and I don’t delude myself about why.

Pulling myself up, I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him softly. “You make me happy, Azriel.”

He tilts his head, surprise flaring in his beautiful eyes. He looks like he’s uncomfortable with the compliment, despite always giving them to me. The man calls me treasure, yet doesn’t understand that he makes me happy?

Shaking my head in frustration, I kiss him. He deepens it instantly, meeting my tongue with his, and I’m lost. His hair is wet between my fingers, soft and silky and the perfect tool to pull his head back so I can devour him properly.

I suck on his lower lip, and he makes a low sound, almost like a warning.

“I knew you had ulterior motives,” I breathe as he kisses a path down the column of my throat.

His hands cup my breasts, bringing them up and burying his face between them, making a low sound of satisfaction. “It isn’t why I brought you here, but... I can’t think with you around.” He nips my breast, making me yelp. “It’s very irritating.”

I scoff, about to say that sounds like his problem, not mine, but then his mouth closes around my breast, and the retort dies in my throat.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I really can’t.

But when in Rome. Or Sicily. Close enough.

“Lean back again,” he urges, hands running down my back.

I comply, tightening my thighs around his hips and floating back.

His voice goes low, and he whispers, “Close your eyes, caro.”

They slide shut, almost against my own will, and then he’s pushing inside me with one thrust, making my back arch up almost completely out of the water. My eyes open to find his watching me, looking down at the place where we’re joined.

“Eyes closed,” he gruffs, staying perfectly still until I do just that.

He starts to move, doing all the work as he lifts me and brings me back down, going in time with the waves around us.

His hands grip my hips with demanding pressure, but his pace stays plateaued.

One on my back urges me above the waterline, and I blush at being laid out in front of him so exposed, but remembering the heat in his eyes, any embarrassment dies down.

The waves threaten to move us, but Azriel’s a rock in the storm, never losing his footing, never faltering.

I hear his quiet, steady breath, the crash of the waves around me, and I feel like everything’s heightened. My body’s buzzing, and I glide my arms through the water, the feeling of the cool water on my over-sensitized skin making me tremble.

“Fuck, Elain,” he says under his breath, hips thrusting a little harder. His name falls off my lips on a moan, and the sound of him groaning in answer does it for me.

I tighten around him as I come, and he follows immediately, pulling me by my hips until he’s seated deep inside me. We’re still, letting the waves bring us even closer.

He pulls out of me but continues to hold me in his arms, pulling my chest to his and burying his face in my neck. “I can’t get enough of you. I should let you go, but I can’t.”

I open my eyes in confusion, wondering why the hell he’d think that, but pause when I see the look in his eyes.

It’s a reflection of my own, showing all the things I want to say but am too scared to. “Az...”

“Sei mio,” he says roughly, without a trace of doubt or hesitation.

The words ring in my head over and over as he carries me back to the beach, then leads me up the dunes and into his house.

You’re mine.

The day after our beach trip--which, honestly, was only about thirty minutes of beaching--I come to the conclusion Azriel’s holding back on me.

He’s shown me his home, fucked me on every square inch, and has given me everything I want whether or not I ask for it, but... he’s holding out on me.

I’ve been around enough people who are hiding something to know that despite seemingly being open and honest, there’s something he’s holding back.

Even when he’s rough with me, it’s like he has a leash on himself so tight he won’t really let go.

It’s like he’s afraid I’ll run in the other direction if he does. Like he’s afraid of scaring me off.

Which is ridiculous, so I’ve also come to the conclusion it ends today.

I need him to be as happy and free as he makes me, and I think this is the way to do it.

So I’m going to surprise him.

I’m on my way to his house, being driven by a cabbie who asked twice if I was sure this was where I wanted to go, with one plan in my head: make him lose control.

He’s always so composed, so relaxed, and I’m tired of it. I want him to know that no matter what happens, I’m not running. Not from him.

It’s time I find out who he really is.

~Azriel~

I have three rules in life.

Three rules that have kept me alive and in this game when the odds were stacked against me.

1: Never leave the house without my .45.

2: Never give into temptation.

3: Trust no one.

Rule 1 is easy to follow. I have more enemies than friends, and I’m not stupid enough to allow someone an opportunity to off me while I’m defenseless.

Rule 2 is usually just as easy to follow, because I’ve lived long enough to have learned how to block myself from ever really wanting anything.

I have to say usually, though, because lately, it’s a complete fucking bitch to follow.

Ever since Elain stumbled into my life like a walking, talking version of every dream I’ve ever had, I’ve been fucking helpless against her.

And I refuse to feel helpless.

But I also refuse to let her go.

Which is so unbelievably selfish and fucked up, I can’t hardly stand myself.

Every time I’m with her, I swear it’s the last time. But then she has to go and be unforgettable, beautiful, kind, and the best lay I’ve ever had, and I’m back to being helpless.

Oh, and now I’ve gone and fucked rule 3, too.

Because never, in my entire life, have I shown a civilian where I live. I’ve taken a few women to one of the few apartments I keep, but never my actual home.

I don’t really know why I did it, considering I knew--while doing it--it was stupid. It was like I wanted, needed, her to see at least a part of me that’s real.

Rolling my neck, I try to push all thoughts of her and her infuriatingly addictive smile out of my head and focus.

Luca glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow like he can sense I’m not paying attention, and I nod for him to keep going.

He squeezes the pliers, and screams fill the air as another finger falls to the floor.

Blood splatters on the toes of my boots, and I narrow my eyes at it. I just fucking washed these.

Luca pauses his work when the guy strapped to the table passes out, walking over to me and lighting a cigarette. “Maybe he’s not going to talk, boss.”

I almost laugh. “They always talk.”

In fact, it’s a little annoying how predictable this shit is getting. Sure, some men, like the one in front of me, are a little stronger and hold out longer, but they all eventually crack.

It just depends on applying the right pressure.

Something Luca knows, meaning there’s a reason he’s getting antsy.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You got something better to do?”

He blows the smoke out, doing a piss-poor job of fighting a smile. “Matter of fact, I do.”

I take a cigarette from the pack he holds out and light it. “What’s her name?”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, and I know it’s going to be someone I know.

“Gianna,” he finally tells me, and I take a deep inhale of smoke to keep from laughing.

Yeah. I definitely know her.

He shoves my shoulder when I let a chuckle out, and I at least make the effort to stop being a dick.

But I can’t help but tease him a bit. “She still into-”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Another laugh escapes me, but I drop it, considering I’m not exactly doing a great job of controlling my own sex life at the moment.

The only reason Luca gets away with talking to me like he does is because he’s my Underboss and happens to be one of the only non-useless people around me.

I take in the man on the table with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out how to get him to just fucking confess. I know he’s guilty, and he knows he’s guilty, but we both also know he’ll die as soon as he damning words leave his mouth.

He’s only got four fingers left, has multiple broken bones, and is missing an eye from where Luca lost his cool earlier.

Clearly, cutting him isn’t doing shit, either, if the gaping wounds on his torso are any indication.

Stubborn bastard.

“Electrocution,” I decide, pushing off the wall and going to grab the jumper cables. The traitor groans, but doesn’t say the magic words.

Luca frowns. “It always smells like burnt hair when we do that.”

Ignoring the prima donna in the room, I hook one cable to the car battery we keep down here and the other two his chest.

“Have you, or have you not, been selling secrets to the Irish?” I ask, my voice betraying the boredom I’m fighting.

He shakes his head, and I have to hold back a sigh.

The sooner this stupid bastard confesses, the sooner I can go to Elain’s.

Walking back over to my place by the stairs, I pull out my phone and scroll through the contacts until I find her name.

I want to see her so bad I’m almost chafing with the effort not to press down, and it only gets worse as the memory of yesterday comes to mind. Of her floating in the sea, breasts bouncing with every thrust, full lip between her teeth.

Fuck.

I run a hand over my face, trying to shove the image out, but it refuges to budge.

Damn woman.

“Falco?”

I snap out of it, looking up to find Luca watching me with a strange expression on his face. Considering he almost never calls me that, I take it that he’s been trying to get my attention for a few moments.

“What?”

“70 or 130?”

I narrow my eyes at the stupid question, and he rolls his eyes before setting the charge to 130 and connecting the dipoles.

The man screams as electricity flows through his body, his wounds bleeding worse as his heart goes into overdrive.

Luca unclips the cables when he passes out, smoking his cigarette and frowning when he doesn’t come to.

A shot of adrenaline to the arm wakes him right up, though, and when he sees us standing over him watching patiently, he curses.

“Ready to confess?” Luca asks, equally ready to get out of here.

The idiot just glares at him. “Accendilo, cagna.”

Light it up, bitch.

If I weren’t so irritated at how long this is taking, I’d laugh.

Although, I have to admit it’s kind of satisfying that he isn’t breaking. He’s one of our own, trained and raised by us, so it’d be insulting if he broke down and confessed after one day.

The longest run we’ve ever had is four days, but the man in front of us might just give the record a run for it’s money.

But then Luca turns the battery on maximum volume, shocks the ever-living shit out of him, and punches him to keep him awake the whole time. He’s probably a little pissed about the “bitch” comment.

And that’s the game.

“Basta, basta! Per favore!”

Luca gives me a victorious grin as he unclips the wires, making me shake my head. Violent bastard. “Parla, cagna,” he demands. Talk, bitch.

Definitely a little pissed about the bitch comment.

The man shakes from the shocks, managing to say, “I told them about the shipment coming in tomorrow night.”

“Told who?” Luca prods, running a knife under the man’s quivering lip.

There’s a pause, then he spits, “O’Connor.”

Aka a pain in our asses, but more so for the Chicago operation than here. I’ll give the Capo there, a long-time friend of mine, a call. Luckily, that means it shouldn’t be a problem for me any longer.

Plus, we still have time to reroute the shipment.

Plus, now I can kill this idiot.

The traitor’s eyes go to me, and he nods, accepting his fate. Not that he has a fucking option.

The sound of my gun’s the last thing he hears, the bang echoing off the walls loudly.

Not loud enough that I don’t hear a gasp from behind me.

I turn around instantly, gun drawn and pointed toward the intruder, finger ready on the trigger.

And look down the barrel right at Elain.

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Part 3

@elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thornes and roses fanfiction

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angelic-serenade · 3 years

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“losing game” || fukuzawa yukichi

gif does not belong to me, nor do the anime & characters

fandom: bungou stray dogs

pairing: fukuzawa yukichi x gn!reader (1st person pov)

warnings: angst, lots of hurt and no comfort, emotional distress, barely mentioned mental instabilty, plot twist

a/n: just a little something i managed to write during the few moments of free time from uni. read as a letter to yukichi from the second paragraph onwards!! hope you enjoy, let me know if you like the new lyric-prose style i’m experimenting with!

word count: 1434

synopsis/prompt: “a broken heart is all that's left, i'm still fixing all the cracks” ― arcade, duncan laurence

there is something noteworthy and indistinguishably patronizing which marks the mere presence of one fukuzawa yukichi – be it his wise and almost all-knowing gaze or his imposing posture, the way he manages to command respect without so much as a gesture anywhere he stands. he is authority and justice and that’s the only manner he allows himself to be, the only partial impression he allows others to make of him. sometimes i fret there really might be nothing more behind the carved, relentless shadow than the steely stares and unmovable frowns, lines so deep and intensely depicted that one might think of them as unforgiving – of what one may never know, if the unforgiveness staggers from the same place where the thoughts in his mind convince him that peace is something to be fought for but to never be attained. though sometimes the rough edges, the hollowed lines marking a tiredness which some days, some way feels all too familiar for comfort give way to a softer, unmistakably caring look; it’s almost imperceptible, the way he manages to turn the cold and unforgiving watercolors into a beautiful masterpiece, the true talent of the unrecognized artist – his eyes lose the usually guarded edge which serves to protect everything but himself, his strained lips imperceptibly curl at the edge of a smile and the way he almost lets his shoulders abandon the weight he carries as if it were an old, battered companion brings to mind a tender sort of sympathy that sticks and can never really be forgotten – or forgiven for that matter.

akin to the flourishing of the most precious cherry blossom, you never allow for these moments to last too long, nor do they recur as often as to make those you care for expect them – in that, i think of you as more alike to the orchid than the cherry, for whenever the mysteriously grim orchid blooms, one knows not to hope for more time than its evanescent beauty can offer. cherries come to be expected, granted, but orchids never kiss and tell and you end up entangled either way. and after all, is it not the inevitable transience of things that makes them all the more desirable? if you heard me talking this way, with flowers and art and everything fulfilling in this life on my lips, singing your praises as if you were my last day of spring and sunlight, i’m sure you’d scoff the silliness away – this is your way, the way things have always been and always will be. no matter what you seldom sternly say, i’ll always be fonder of orchids than cherry blossoms anyway, for in their grave allure i found my own kind of tragic beauty.

by now i am convinced that you know and have always known exactly how much power you yield and how little you’d need to make me forget my own sadness – those moments, the careless slips of that bleeding heart of yours, are never meant for me. it pains me so to stand by your side without being able to bask in your praises, but that’s just how things are supposed to be – i am in your life, and that’s all i will ever need. sometimes you look at me as if you expect to see something - or someone – else in my place and i always end up trying to fill the void left behind by an illusion i don’t even know the name of. there is a hole that feels like an aching fever permanently carved into my soul, it spreads like an illness each and every time your voice creeps into my mind; even now i think of you and suddenly i feel much worse and better at the same time because you can never be the cure, but you sure as hell turned into my favorite medication. when i’m not by your side, in your beloved agency with your beloved family – the only ones allowed to walk alongside you into the sun - i delude myself into thinking i somehow may get over these terrible feelings that stretch my mind and hollow my heart, desperately convincing myself that time will wash away all of the promises kept in your sleeve. but sometimes, times that are just some and so unbelievably others, far in between and still so unfathomably precious to me, sometimes you let me hope and crave and i am almost convinced it could maybe be enough. the truth is that i have only ever known pain and i learned to make an addiction out of it.

once you called me by your side and i was quick to follow, as i always am because it’s you after all. under the feeble setting sun, the words spilled faultlessly from your lips, as if they had been composed to the likelihood of those poems about tragedy and grace i was stubborn enough to keep reading at night, and i stood in awe as you let me sip the most bitter of nectars, an aftertaste so haunting i knew it would forever ruin any chance of escaping this, of escaping you. welcoming the sudden flood with far more haste and yearning than i’d like to admit, you told me many things that day – about the agency, about your duty, about mine-, but you did not dare to utter my name even once, as you never did. you thanked me – me, little old, battered and faded, wide eyed and heavy-hearted me with no home to turn to and no more dreams in my closet to spare. you who had retrieved the pandora box and sealed it shut with your bare hands, you who had showed me another way, another path that nearly splintered my spirit all over again. i smiled still and for the briefest passing moment i almost hoped for you to reciprocate the minutest hint of affection; you raised your hand and rested it on my shoulder – it was warm, and it felt like water, like the purest form of unattainable salvation and i almost found myself crying in front of your unshakeable stance.

there was another time when you did gift me the smile i so desperately wished to keep for myself and i burn still, because look at what you made of me and what did you reduce my integrity to – i am neither blessing nor curse, the limbo of your love turned me into a willing martyr rejoicing the smallest act of kindness. you ruined me and i let you. i let you because a singular moment of bliss was worth the relentless tortures of your inferno.

i follow you around and keep you company still, but you never seem to acknowledge my unyielding pestering (just like before). when you let your guard down, my eyes lose themselves in yours because i can never completely understand what goes on in that obliviously rigid mind of yours – you look apathetic or sad or something that’s quite in between. oftentimes i worry for you, but you have always managed to cope and stand strong even as the tide came to wash away the last footprints of a decaying era, i believe you ought to keep doing so for another lifetime still. you have people who are dear to you as you are to them and for how much you’re unwilling to admit it, i also know that you keep a picture of me in your pocket, the one hidden on the inside of your austere kimono, somewhere between your contrite self-loathing and the lovely remnants of the day. when you think i can’t see you, i notice you make a habit of touching the spot where it’s concealed as if to remind yourself i am something right within your grasp, but that you’d never allow yourself to have. you never take me out of that pocket to properly relish the view and i will never ask you to. you grew fond of another illusion, as you’re prone to always do.

“the road to hell is paved with good intentions” i chant to myself when no one is listening, for my good intentions have only ever been inspired by you and burning and rotting in hell now barely sounds like a threat at all if i got to hear your praise just one more time.

today as you once again kneel pathetically curved upon my solitary grave, i can hear you weep yet; it’s been a while since you came to see me but finally for the first time, you call my name –

maybe you really did love me after all.

#bungou stray dogs fukuzawa #fukuzawa yukichi #bungou stray dogs #fukuzawa yukichi x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #oneshot #fukuzawa x reader #angst #bsd #bsd x reader #fukuzawa x y/n #bsd x y/n #armed detective agency #inspired by music #arcade by duncan laurence #i love this man ngl

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edenmemes · 4 years

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red dead redemption 2 starters

❝ in these books life seems so simple, but in reality… i can’t make head nor tail of it. ❞ ❝ listen to me. when the times comes, you gotta run and don’t look back. ❞ ❝ i ain’t afraid of dying. ❞ ❝ i’m still standing, which is an improvement on the last time you saw me. ❞ ❝ i still think about you. that was...that was quite a time. ❞ ❝ people don’t forget. nothing gets forgiven. ❞ ❝ your father would rather you did not do anything so foolish. ❞ ❝ forgiveness, well...it’s just an easy way of saying ‘i don’t care no more’. ❞ ❝ i know you like to hide behind the angry moron act, but it’s a thin enough veneer. ❞ ❝ when somebody doesn’t lie in this world and you don’t lie to them, then together you can achieve great things and destroy great powers. ❞ ❝ i remain a fool, and i’m sure i shall die a fool, but i’m trying very hard to be something like the man you deserve. ❞ ❝ i am always honest, maybe not always good, but i'm always honest. ❞ ❝ why you got that guilty look on your face? ❞ ❝ i trust i will not make a god awful fool of myself once more-- but somehow i imagine i shall. ❞ ❝ please don’t go to any trouble on my account. ❞ ❝ you ain’t gonna die. not yet. ❞ ❝ feels like things have changed...the whole world has changed. ❞ ❝ i feel like we haven’t spoken for days. ❞ ❝ we’re thieves in a world that don’t want us no more. ❞ ❝ we can’t change what’s done. we can only move on. ❞ ❝ just do one thing or the other. don’t try to be two people at once. ❞ ❝ we’re more ghosts than people. ❞ ❝ how can romance ever be silly? it’s all we have. ❞ ❝ vengeance is an idiot’s game. ❞ ❝ i don’t think we can go much further on the horses. ❞ ❝ i'm surprised we escaped at all. ❞ ❝ you’re...i was gonna say you’re like a son/daughter to me. ❞ ❝ you’re...i was gonna say you’re like a son/daughter to me...but you’re more than that. ❞ ❝ this is a new low, even by your standards. ❞ ❝ i do my utmost to avoid you. ❞ ❝ i thought the whole point was that this had nothing to do with you? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry to complain. it’s just so... ❞ ❝ i need you now...more than ever. ❞ ❝ face me to the west so i can watch the setting sun and remember all the fine times we had that way. ❞ ❝ do you ever miss home? must be hard, being so far away. ❞ ❝ you know, we’re gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar. ❞ ❝ there’s a good man within you...but he is wrestling a giant. ❞ ❝ you saved my life. you’re a good man. ❞ ❝ there’s only one of me. i don’t intend for them to know i’m coming. ❞ ❝ i thought you were trying to make me feel better. ❞ ❝ be loyal to what matters. ❞ ❝ you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you squeal before. ❞ ❝ i'm miserable. been a tough few days. ❞ ❝ i trust your judgement. always have. ❞ ❝ i'm just gonna...have a little sit down and...feel sorry for myself. ❞ ❝ i tried. in the end. i did. ❞ ❝ one day, folk will take orders from me...and trust me, it won’t be no laughing matter. ❞ ❝ here, take a drink of this. ❞ ❝ seems like there ain’t much else in this world except bastards, victims of bastards and the bastards who want to put the bastards in the ground. ❞ ❝ we’ll get off this mountain soon enough. ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept in three days. ❞ ❝ just thought you might’ve moved on by now. ❞ ❝ thanks for coming for me. ❞ ❝ you got sad eyes...like you’ve seen sad things. ❞ ❝ you always said revenge is a luxury we can’t afford. ❞ ❝ you don’t hire a saint to catch a sinner. ❞ ❝ you’re alive! oh, you’re alive! ❞ ❝ go. now. i’ll hold them off. ❞ ❝ are you okay? i mean you no harm. ❞ ❝ i'm nobody. ❞ ❝ what about you? you doubting me too? ❞ ❝ it’s enough to make a man drink. or worse. ❞ ❝ i knew not to trust, yet i had no choice. ❞ ❝ there ain’t no more time to talk. go. ❞ ❝ thank you, for your strength. it means a lot to me. ❞ ❝ firstly, we ain’t friends. don’t make no mistake on that subject. ❞ ❝ i'm so bored i’d rather be shot. ❞ ❝ it’ll mean a lot to me...please. ❞ ❝ you’re gonna sleep with your chest open if you ain’t careful. ❞ ❝ the bond we share, it’s the most real thing to me. i would kill for it, i would happily die for it... ❞ ❝ life is full of pain. but there is also love, and beauty. ❞ ❝ my pa used to say you stare into the fire long enough you can see the whole world pass by. ❞ ❝ whenever we happen to meet, you’re always helping people and smiling. ❞ ❝ do as you’re goddamn told. and shoot well. ❞ ❝ i guess he never outgrew his anger. kind of like you. ❞ ❝ some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that. ❞ ❝ you’re driven by powerful forces i scarcely understand. ❞ ❝ oh you fool. you sad, deluded fool. torn in two by different ideas of who you were, and it turns out you weren't neither of them. ❞ ❝ well, i think you’re as slippery as an eel in an oil slick, but still a man/woman. ❞ ❝ with you watching over me, i’d walk into hell itself. ❞ ❝ lack of something to feel important about is almost the greatest tragedy a man may have. ❞ ❝ when i was your age, i fought. i saw death. i have killed. ❞ ❝ i wish things were different. but it weren’t us who changed. ❞ ❝ nobody’s taking anything from me ever again. ❞ ❝ some jobs aren’t for saving and some legacies are for pissing on. ❞ ❝ you're my favorite parasite... no, wait, ringworm's my favorite parasite, you're my second-favorite parasite... i lied. ringworm, then, rats with the plague, then you. ❞ ❝ just leave it to me. i can talk a dog off a meat wagon. ❞ ❝ forgive me if i slip and stab you in the face. ❞ ❝ this place, ain’t no such thing as civilized. it’s man so in love with greed, that he has forgotten himself and found only appetites. ❞ ❝ shut up...you know, you’re not very nice to me. ❞ ❝ the amount of hell we’ve raised, we’re owed some back. ❞ ❝ i haven’t done anything wrong aside of not playing the games to your rules. ❞ ❝ don’t let yourself get killed...for pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folk. ❞ ❝ when you fall, there’ll be a party. ❞ ❝ every day i didn’t kill you, is a day i saved your life. ❞ ❝ i can’t kill them all silently so, when they chase me, you go the other way. ❞ ❝ does this seem like a good time for sarcasm to you? ❞ ❝ usually i’m worse than the wolves. ❞ ❝ i don’t have to be careful. i have you as a friend. ❞ ❝ i wish i had acquired wisdom at less of a price. ❞ ❝ they’re chasing us hard, because we represent everything they fear. ❞ ❝ you know all that mattered to me was loyalty? it was all i ever believed in. ❞ ❝ never thought i’d say this but...it’s good to see you. ❞ ❝ we’ve all lived bad lives. we all sin...but i know you. ❞ ❝ i kill people. and maybe i should’ve killed you. ❞ ❝ ain’t you a sorry sight? ❞ ❝ your job’s starting the fights, it ain’t winning them. ❞ ❝ some big, loud mouthed bastard tried to rob me when i was out riding so i... well, you know how it is. ❞ ❝ there ain’t no shame in looking for a better world. ❞ ❝ i can hunt, carry a knife, and use a gun. ❞ ❝ ...is it too late for us? ❞ ❝ if the purpose of life was to be liked...it would be very boring indeed. ❞ ❝ i’ve been running for as long as i can remember. ❞ ❝ they turned me into a monster. ❞ ❝ i always wondered if i was unlucky...but maybe i’m just not very good. ❞ ❝ don’t kill yourself over pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folks. ❞ ❝ sorry if i seem a little desperate. i am a little desperate. ❞ ❝ if anyone gets close to me, they’re wanted too. and i can’t have you wrapped up in that. ❞ ❝ there’s all kinds of nasty people who want to speak to you. ❞ ❝ they won’t hear anything about you from me. ❞ ❝ tell me about you, darling and armed to the teeth like that. ❞ ❝ i also...found out some unsettling news about you. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to say it...thank you. ❞ ❝ you...don’t like me much, do you? ❞ ❝ i can’t lie to you. i’m a wanted man. ❞ ❝ that’s quite a scratch you got there. ❞ ❝ take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act. ❞ ❝ i’m seeing things a lot more clearly now. ❞ ❝ where are you? can you hear me? ❞ ❝ i think someone saw some wolves, not far away. you should watch out. ❞ ❝ guess all i got now is doubt. doubts and scars. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t me who went and shot him. ❞ ❝ will you dance with me? ❞ ❝ i like you. you’ve got a kind face. ❞ ❝ i’m not a good man. not usually. ❞ ❝ there’s a lot i should’ve done and even more i shouldn’t have done. ❞ ❝ you are a compulsive liar. ❞ ❝ next time, i’ll slit your throat myself. ❞ ❝ as long as we get paid or you get shot, i’m happy. ❞ ❝ i'm not designed for this snow. ❞ ❝ you don’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to you. ❞ ❝ shut up you silly man and kiss me. ❞ ❝ who made you the messiah of these poor souls you’ve led so horribly astray? ❞ ❝ maybe it’s a sign. try to do the good thing. ❞ ❝ how many times do i gotta bury you? ❞ ❝ you are the only feller who could get half of their brain eaten by wolves and end up more intelligent. ❞ ❝ five thousand dollars? for me? can i turn myself in? ❞ ❝ if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is to stop digging. ❞ ❝ we ain’t both gonna make it. ❞ ❝ i gave you all i had. i did. ❞ ❝ if we have to fight, we fight. If we have to run, we’ll run. if we must die, we’ll die. but…we’ll stay free. ❞ ❝ people call me lazy. i’m not lazy, just don’t like working. there’s a difference. ❞ ❝ i guess...i’m afraid. ❞ ❝ oh, i didn’t know i was talking to a lady. ❞ ❝ i don’t feel too good. ❞ ❝ you have finally lost your mind. ❞

#sentence starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #long post for ts /#im gonna add more to this one later on ! & update it now & again #there's a LOT of stuff in r/dr

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uniarycode · 3 years

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Takari Week Day 4 - Rainy Day

Yes I skipped 2 days I'll get on that

Could one cry tears of joy and sorrow at the same time?

Set ~year 2 of college. Written as part of @takariweek

Warnings: cheating, break-ups, some T-rated topics

Hikari always liked the feeling of rain. Especially warm rain, a gentle shower, caressing and cleansing her body.

She’d heard that rain was the tears of the gods. If that was true, then she wondered if they were tears of joy or relief, liquid stress escaping the body and purifying the soul. Or if they were tears of loss, of mourning that which would never again come to be.

Perhaps, someone could discover which her tears were as well.

They were well hidden, salt deluded by freshwater a thousand times stronger. No observer could tell if her sniffles were from her heart or the cold. From the pain of losing a lover, or the relief of no longer having to hide herself.

All was washed away from the rain. Perhaps if she were lucky, it would cleanse her sins as well.

The rain had started gently, but the absence came abruptly. The pitter-patter on plastic giving unwanted shelter.

“Don’t you think you’re wet enough?” a familiar voice teased, he bent down to her ear, not caring if her hair dripped all over him as he did. “Want me to get you even wetter?”

That was part of the problem, or the solution. She was still unsure whether her problems had increased or decreased.

Hikari shook her head lightly, slow enough that her hair would not whip him in the face. She pushed her eyes closed. There was very little she trusted right now, her voice, her eyes, her breath, all would betray her to him.

“You’re crying.” He said, a hand gently placed on her soaking shoulder, “Hikari what happened?”

Perhaps it was the gods that had betrayed her, perhaps Takeru just knew her too well. She took a deep breath to voice her crime. “Kamando.”

The blond jumped, “Yuki?” she did not react, but he took it as acceptance, anyway. “Since you’re using his last name, I take it things are not going well? Is it because…you know.”

She nodded; eyes fixated on her shoes. “He doesn’t know-know, but well, he thinks he knows. He decided it would be better to stop.”

“I see, I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me.” He said, moving his hand down her arm.

‘Sorry you had to go through this’ he had said. He did not say he was sorry that it happened, nor did he say he regretted his actions. Because both would be a lie, and she knew it better than anyone.

Miyako had once said that no girl could resist Takeru Takaishi, not when he positioned them squarely in his crosshairs. Hikari had laughed it off at the time, Takeru’s foreign looks, kind personality, and silver-tongued compliments had earned him a certain reputation in high school, but irresistible he was not.

She still believed that, she just knew better than to believe it applied to herself.

But then, he’d only teased her, only coaxed. He had followed her tempo, offered words of warning, advised her against continuing, even as he’d non-verbally begged her to stay.

She’d been the one to cross every line, to move past boundaries she thought she’d never break, pulling him deeper into her sin. Despite his reputation, he had saved himself for her, that final first. After learning that, how could she resist? How could she stop herself from coming back every time?

He had told her many things about their forbidden relationship, none of them were regrets, and he didn’t look to be starting now.

“We should get you home. Hypothermia always liked you far more than you like it.” He said, hand sliding further down her arm to her wrist, grabbing it gently to pull her forward. If she were in better spirits, he would have risked her hand.

The umbrella was not large enough to cover them both at an arms-length, and she did not have the energy to keep up with him, allowing him to drag her along. Despite the fact he was dry and she was soaked, he still chose her anyway, allowing his second hand to hang back. To shield her from the rain.

A gesture designed to be gentlemanly, but ultimately impractical.

Thankfully her apartment was not too far, by the time they got there, he was still dryer than she was. She did not care that he was leading her through the building. He held that right long before her now-ex, and he would hold it long after as well.

He moved through her apartment as if it was his own, obtaining some towels and bring them back to her, at least until she was dry enough not to drip all over the hardwood. Hikari found herself guided to her bed, another towel placed to save the blankets, as he fished out a change in clothes.

Takeru had left her alone to get changed, not that she saw much of a point to it, and made himself useful in the absence to make some tea.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked when he finally deemed her dry and healthy enough.

She didn’t respond.

“You aren’t crying.” He observed.

She wasn’t whether that was because her tear ducts were depleted or simply because he was there, she didn’t know. The latter seemed too harsh, too cruel to her ex, she was worried it was true.

He placed his hand inside hers, giving a light squeeze.

“I don’t know.” She finally said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. I’m sad, I’m happy, I’m excited, I’m scared, I’m guilty, I’m relieved. He didn’t know, he broke up with me, but I was the one who broke his heart, but…”

“But?” he coaxed, using his thumb to massage the back of her hand.

“But…” she took a deep breath. “Because I broke his heart, I didn’t have to break yours. I don’t think I ever could.”

“I don’t either, whatever happens to me, so long as your happy, I’m happy.”

Although that made her feel better, it didn’t reassure her.

“How can I feel like this? It’s like my emotions are doing summersaults.”

“People are complex. We knew this wouldn’t be tearless for a while now. If you didn’t like him, you would have broken up with him ages ago. If you wanted to keep him, you would have at the very least, admitted it.”

“I’m selfish.” She said, “I wanted him, I wanted you more. If I had just kept my hands to myself, no one would be hurting.”

“That’s good.” He said, “I’m biased though, but you always worry too much about others, being selfish for once is a good thing.”

“But he-”

Takeru silenced her with a kiss.

“The game of love is very dangerous, we all know that: he took a risk, you took a risk, I took a risk. Sometimes risks hurt. But a bad outcome does not mean a bad decision. Hikari, do you regret any of your decisions?”

The answer was surprisingly cruel.

“I don’t. I don’t regret saying yes to him, I don’t regret going on dates, I don’t regret him. I don’t regret you.” It was very selfish of her, but it was true.

“I don’t regret it either.” Takeru said, pulling her close, “And I can’t speak for Yuki, but I don’t think he regrets it either, other than the ending, which was his choice.”

They remained entangled for moments, minutes, perhaps days. Hikari felt her emotions continue to fluctuate, but in Takeru’s presence, no more sobs escaped.

“What does this make us?” she asked when her voice found strength once again.

“A thousand poets working for a thousand years could not begin to describe what we are Hikari, there’s no reason to try on such a dark day. We are Hikari and Takeru. We are complex. Whatever we want others to see us as can wait until later.”

She nodded. “Then stay with me, a bit longer.”

“As long as you need.”

She wondered if she could make him regret that. She didn’t know if the nerve required to face the world alone would ever come to her. But for now, she would bask in his presence, hear the pitter-patter of rain on her window, as she let the gods shed her ambivalent tears for her.

#digimon #takari #takari week #takeru takashi #hikari yagami #so much catching up to do

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bigteefsmallbrain · 3 years

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Team Rocket James Soulmate AU ANGST

I WARNED YOU, I’M NOT COMFORTING YOU, IT’S YOUR FAULT IF YOU CRY, NOT MINE

WARNING: Reader injury, depression, death, gore, everything BAD and NEGATIVE under the GODDAMN SUN

James Kojirō

Yes, that is his full name, I looked it up

Now cry, peasant

He knows damn well he has a soulmate

He knows

He just isn’t willing to admit it

Too devoted to the, admittedly toxic, Jessica FUCKING Musashi

Yes, Jessica Musashi is her full name

You know you have a soulmate too

You also know he doesn’t want you

And that hits hard

Now let me paint you a painful picture

Because I want my friend to suffer

Dearly

Imagine your soulmate rejecting you, and taking on a different lover. You hadn’t exactly planned on meeting your soulmate that day. Traveling on your lonesome, you’re bound to meet people, so hearing his voice from up ahead was a shock.

“James..?”

He certainly wasn’t planning to hear someone call out to him, especially not that damn voice that won’t leave him alone. He ignored her voice on the regular as it is, believing fate had messed up and put her voice in his head instead of Jessica’s.

“Who was that?”

“No one, Jessie, let’s take our leave, shall we?”

No one

“James! Wait! Please!”

He was gone by the time you reached where he was. His words still ringing in your head. No one, did he really mean that? There was a sharp pang in your chest, he was rejecting you, rejecting his soulmate. He had spit those words so venomously, as if he hated just the thought of you.

When you both met for a second time, it didn’t go any smoother. He’s a Pokémon snatcher, you bitterly noted, seeing as he was trying to steal some kids Pokémon with his partner.

“James! Please listen to me! We can work this out, can’t we!?”

You were here, why were you here? Haven’t you got better things to do? I’ve already rejected you, can’t you see I don’t want you? He ground his teeth. Fine, I’ll make it more obvious.

In the end, you wound up with a few broken ribs, a punctured lung, and multiple bruises. The kid, who you now know as Ash, had thanked you for distracting ‘Team Rocket’ long enough to get his Pokémon back. You couldn’t help the bitter smile as you told him it was no problem. Another pang hit your chest, this time, a lot harder.

James didn’t know how much longer he could take it. Your voice, despite him clearly displaying he didn’t want to see you ever again, kept ringing in his head. ‘Please just talk to me.’ ‘I’m your soulmate, we can work things out, can’t we?’. It seems that every time he rejects you, your voice only grows louder.

You didn’t think it would end this way. You never considered it, dying because your soulmate rejected you. It had been long, harsh years, and with each rejection, your chest panged harder. The possibility that those pangs were the showing signs of Soulmate Rejection didn’t occur to you. Or rather, you didn’t want them to, but you still chased him. Even as your face paled, as your appetite shrank, as your eyes blurred, you chased him, because he was your soulmate, and despite all he’s done, you loved him.

James wasn’t expecting to be charged at by a wild Pokémon. He didn’t expect for his partner, his love to leave him to die. He knew he couldn’t escape, so he sucked it up, if this was how it ended, so be it. At least he got to spend it with the love of his life-

“JAMES!” He felt her before he heard her. Pushing his body aside as her broken cry of horror rang through the air. He heard bones snap, flesh tear. He felt blood splatter on the back of his uniform, he..

He was crying, why was he crying? He’s alive.. Right?

He shouldn’t have turned around. As soon as his eyes met your mangled corpse he felt sick.

What had he done..?

What had he done?

You were laying in a pool of your own blood, bones were sticking out of your sickly pale skin, head split open and oh god your eyes were looking right at him. Hollow, lifeless, empty, the once beautiful tone they had now dull.

Beautiful..?

Your eyes.. They were beautiful, weren’t they, the same color he imagined his soulmate would have as a boy.

His soulmate, he numbly realized, his eyes stuck on your now disfigured body. He could see the signs of Soulmate Rejection from here, he could.. He could still hear your voice.

Your voice your voice your voice your voice your voice your voice your voice your voice your voice-

The one thing he deluded himself into thinking he hated the most

The one thing he truly loved hearing, he realized

Wouldn’t stop ringing in his head

To say James was horrified at the revelations he made that day, was an understatement.

To lose a soulmate is one thing

To cause their suffering, and eventually, death was another

He couldn’t stop thinking about you after that

He killed you

Oh god he killed you

He didn’t

He didn’t expect it to go this far

Did he..?

No! You’re his soulmate! You..

You were gone

Every time he ignored you, every time he rejected you, every time he hurt you, physically wounded you

He was disgusted with himself

He couldn’t look in the mirror

He scrubbed his skin bloody

His fault his fault his fault his fault HIS FAULT

It was eating him alive, it was killing him

Just like he killed you

Your voice never left his head

Thoughts of what could have been

How nice it could have been

Till be began seeing you

Still chasing him, healthy, desperate for his attention, for him

He started believing you were real too

He left Team Rocket

He built his happy home with you

You were here

Weren’t you..?

He had driven himself to madness

His guilt ridden mind couldn’t take it, he had been driving himself insane, and thinking of how life could have ended, how you could have been happy together had he just stopped and listened

He grew delusionary

Delusionary, to the point of death

He thought he built a home, though he built air

He cooked a meal, that was worms and dirt

He… he died

He died seeing your smiling face fade

He died watching the house he built disappear into thin air

He..

He didn’t get to see you again

I’m crying and I'm mad about it. I’ll make a fluffy headcanon in the morning, it’s 1AM and I need to go cry myself to sleep. Friend, if you’re reading this, I hope you cried, because dammit I warned you.

I nearly made this more grotesque than needed by having James think you were still alive and having him carry your corpse around, thinking you were just too injured to move, but decided against it.

I’ll also go into more detail in reference to “Soulmate Rejection” and “Soulmate Madness” which are two factors of soulmates I didn’t mention when speaking of my AU.

Anyways, I’ll see you in the morning with a proper Soulmate AU explanation and Fluff post as an apology for, well, this. (I’m thinking some good old OHSHC to get the fluff meters through the roof and ensure no angst is written)

#team rocket #team rocket james #pokemon #pokemon hcs #pokemon headcanons #headcanons #soulmate #soulmateAU #soulmate au #soulmate hcs #soulmate headcanon #angst #hurt without comfort #pain #I cried writing this #still crying #I regret writing this

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horanghaechan · 4 years

Text

Wicked Games (Johnny) pt.1

pairing: Demon!Johnny x Dancer!You (female character)

word count: around 9k

synopsis: Oh, the things you do for money... NCT had a reputation: filthy rich and handsome. Their parties were known to be god tier and they used to pay extremely well to have girls dancing in them. However, when some weird rumours start to spread, all your colleagues backed out... But not you.

Inspired by Wicked Games - The Weeknd.

(Part 2/final here)

[a/n]: i actually had a side-blog once and posted it there but i got author’s block and deleted everything. anyway, i’m rather proud of this scenario so i decided to post it again lol ~ also, english is not my first language so any grammar/etc mistake please tell me!

Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance Take you down another level Get you dancing with the Devil Take a shot of this But I'm warning you I'm on that shit that you can't smell, baby So, put down your perfume (…) Listen, ma, I'll give you all of me Give me all of it, I need all of it to myself

Youngho opened the door to the main room and smiled. It wasn't the first time that everything went wrong, and probably wouldn't be the last. He pushed a wooden stool to the side and walked to Yuta, wondering exactly what had happened.

“The rumours about us are getting more and more frequent.”

“Humans.” He snorted. “And this is preventing the party from happening, I suppose?!”

“The strippers don’t want to come... I mean, except for one.”

“Oh.” Youngho smiled. “Why?”

“It seems that she doesn't believe in God, therefore, doesn't believe in us.” Yuta made a gesture with his hand, pointing to them. “Fortunately, she said she has four more friends that are willing to come, but we're going to have six less dancers.”

“Fuck it, bro. That's more than enough. We promised strippers, didn’t we?”

“You're right.” He nodded. “Well, I will report to Taeyong that we can still host the party.”

●●●

After receiving confirmation from her boss, Y/N entered the van with her friends. She didn't understand why the other girls had dropped out at the last minute… She would never do it, the payment was just too good to ignore. However, she was kinda happy that they did, because now she could receive their money instead.

“You know what they say about there, don't you?” Laura wondered.

“That it is a huge house full of billionaire, drop-dead gorgeous men.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“No, silly. About it being haunted!”

“Nonsense.” Y/N shook her hand. “This only exists for those who believe in it.”

“But a friend of mine was at a party there and said he saw some weird stuff...”

“Your friend was probably drugged and had a ‘bad trip’. Get over it, Lau.”

“You are so sceptical that it drives me crazy, Y/N!” Laura rolled her eyes.

“And you're too deluded, but that doesn't mean I lose my patience every time.”

Despite being best friends, Y/N found it hard sometimes to live with someone like Laura. You could hold her hand and say ‘Lau, the sky is black, actually. However, because of a curse, we are forced to believe it is blue.’, and the girl would (probably, 70% of chance) believe it. She was very naïve for 25-years-old woman; which made it all extremely worrying. 25-year-old girls were not so innocent. Y/N was 23 and she knew more than enough.

“How's uni, Y/N?” Inez, another friend of them, changed topics in order to calm down the mood.

“Good, as far as the last semester can be. And yours?”

“Dentistry is wonderful, I couldn't be more pleased!”

“You can ask me too, Inez.” Pelinsu, the youngest of the group, raised her hand as if to show she was there. “In fact, I'm going to tell you anyway.”

“Nobody is interested to know how things in the college prep course are.” Inez mocked, making girls laugh. “When are you going to quit it?”

“Even if I need to stay there for 15 years, I won’t give up.” Pelinsu sighed. “It’s my dream to become a doctor.”

“You can do it, dear.” Laura tried to cheer her up.

The way to the mansion where they would dance was filled with laughs and loud conversation. The four of them meeting and spending time together was rare, because they all had busy lives. It was a miracle that they all had a “free” day and could work together.

The house was located at the top of a hill. Y/N was amazed at the view, lots of green trees and abundant nature. It was always so healing and special to be at places like that. Looking through the window to the road behind, she didn't notice her friends getting off the car and greeting a group of guys at the mansion’s gates.

“Excuse me?” An unknown voice brought her back to the present. She turned to where she thought the voice came from, and felt a shock through her spine. She had seen beautiful men before, but... That was different. He was different. With dark hair, a beautiful nose, puffy lips and the sharpest of the gazes, he emitted a mysterious and charming aura. She couldn’t stop staring at him; it was like she was hypnotised. Oh, boy, that was a dangerous thing to do.

Y/N didn’t fuck with business.

Literally.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I got distracted.”

“No problem.” He smiled and she swore the sun shone stronger. ”Your friends are already inside the house. You must be…?” Stretching his hand, the handsome man offered help so she could come off the van. Well, in addition to his killing looks, he was a gentleman.

Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

“Y/N. Just Y/N.” She responded lethargic, accepting his hand. Despite the typically hot weather of summer, the man was cold. She felt a sudden dizziness, but decided to believe it was because she spent a lot of time sat down. “Mr. Totti said that if we stay until the end, we can get the other strippers payment. Is this true? Because if it is, I need to talk to the girls so we can make shifts and not get too tired.” Y/N stared at the mansion, looking up and smiling. “What a beautiful structure.”

“I agree.” Youngho replied. “I'm Seo Youngho, by the way. But everyone calls me ‘Johnny’.”

“Johnny?” Y/N questioned, and he gifted her a small smirked.

What a beautiful structure, indeed.

Tall and handsome. Just like a fucking castle.

“It seems easier to remember.” He shrugged. “Anyway, what Totti said is true. But, I don't think you girls need to work until the end; after all, a lot of people are going to be so drunk they will barely notice what is happening. We can set an ending hour, if you want.”

“Of course. How late, then?”

“3:30AM?” He smiled again, mesmerising.

“3:30AM.” She nodded. “To where should I go now, sir?”

“Go up the stairs and turn right, it's the first door.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” Y/N gave him a small bow, smiling, and rushed into the house.

“You’re welcome, Just Y/N.” Johnny sighed, strangely relaxed.

The house was decorated like an oddly but good mix of Greek and Iberian palaces. Y/N liked it, because the fusion made her have another perception of both styles. When she arrived at the floor that Youngho told her, Y/N got surprised as she looked out in one of the large windows of the hall: near the end of the huge garden, she found another road, but it disappeared into the forest. Were they that high?

“How tall is this mountain?” She asked while entering the room.

“Y/N! Why?” Inez dropped her makeup bag in one of the dressing tables.

“I saw a road behind the garden and it ends in the woods. I thought there was only one way to get up here, but I guess I was wrong.” She shrugged. “I talked to Youngho and he said that if we work until 3:30AM, we win the payment of the other girls.”

“I could never be as thirsty for money as you, Y/N.” Lin laughed. “I’m up for it, though.”

“Do I need to answer?” Inez smiled with satisfaction, doing an “ok” sign.

“I need this money.” Laura agreed. “How is this going to work, then? Do we do shifts?”

“I think it’s easier that way, because later we will be tired and then we won’t have much energy to dance correctly.” Y/N opened her backpack. “Who wants to be the first?”

Doyoung grimaced upon hearing the girls’ laughter. He didn't like noisy humans, but he couldn't deny that they were very beautiful ladies, so it made up for the mess. At least Y/N and her friends were not afraid of them and crying nonstop.

“Are you the bodyguard of the group?” Youngho smirked when he found Doyoung in front of the room’s door. “I didn't know we had hired one.”

“Go to hell, Johnny.” Doyoung rolled his eyes. “I'm here to make sure that no one will escape.”

“Hell?” Youngho laughed quietly. “They are being paid – a good amount and above average, to dance. Why would they run away?”

“The rumours...”

“Get over these rumours, Doyoung.” Youngho shook his hand. “There’s nothing that a good party and a few drinks won’t make them forget.”

“Taeyong will be mad if we do this again.”

“Taeyong gets mad about everything.” The tallest one shrugged. “And between losing his way of life here or being mad for some minutes, I guess he'd rather be pissed.”

“Your arrogance never ceases to surprise me.”

“No wonder I died because of it.” He laughed. “I'm going to talk to Yuta.”

“Wait.” Doyoung held his arm. “You have noticed Y/N, haven’t you?”

“How could I not? I almost went blind.”

“It's been quite a while since we've seen such a light.” Doyoung crossed his arms. “It's going to be an interesting night. Do you think Taeyong have seen it too?”

“I don't know if they met, but I assume he already knows. The energy in the house is weird.”

“Good. We have everything settled to go wrong.” Doyoung smiled excitedly.

Giving one of the most exclusive parties of the city was an easy task, and in them, finding people willing to sell their souls was easier. Renewing their strengths on the sins of others resulted in a common way for demons to remain in their human form, but finding the right sin to catch was a bit complicated. Youngho used to search for drug dealers and criminals, but he was interested in something much better right now: corrupt a being of light. He had heard two or three stories of demons who corrupted beings of light and it looked extremely tempting. It was a divine blessing (no matter from which “side” it was coming) that Y/N had crossed his path. The fact that she did not believe in God or Demons was just a bonus.

When Johnny came down, already dressed up for the party, he found the four girls working on their stages.

“Ladies, you look all delightful.” He smiled charmingly. “If you want to have a drink before we get started, just to relax, don’t hesitated to ask.”

“It would be wonderful.” The tallest of them, whose name was Inez, smiled.

“Thanks, but I don't drink before working.” Y/N dismissed it with a hand gesture.

“Water, then?”

“I don't want anything for now, thank you.” She went back to testing the pole dance, ignoring him. Johnny could smell the excitement pouring from her, but he didn't know exactly for which reason.

Having to attend to guests and strike small conversation with some “friends”, Youngho forgot about his smalls problems. He spent a big part of the night overseeing everything from afar and keeping the house in order, so Taeyong wouldn’t snap.

Around 2 A.M., many people were hammered, but not enough for him to try buying their souls. Youngho had just let Yuta in charge of the drinks when the lights shone in flashes, bringing the attention to the main stage. Y/N stood up in the middle of it, wearing a Burlesque style burgundy set, looking as beautiful as an angel could. Extremely tempting and untouchable. He was sure that Lilith would’ve wept in pride if she saw her.

A very calm melody began to play and she moved within the rhythm. Y/N was keen on showing how well she danced, how good she could twirl around and seduce. The audience made a sound of surprise as she snapped an unseen whip, and used it up on her body, snapping again close to her leg, giving the illusion that she had whipped it in herself. Youngho approached the stage, feeling the need to appreciate it from a closer place. She knelt on the floor – a submissive pose that used to drive men crazy –, then crawled to the edge of the it, letting everyone see the outline of her breasts. Youngho giggled despite the discomfort in his trousers. He was a sexual being, he had no doubt about it, but he had never felt so horny about a stripper. Y/N just needed to keep up with those daring moves and pin-up style that he would consider finding someone to have sex with as soon as the show ended... And he hoped she was willing to play that role.

“This girl dances very well.” One guy commented near him.

“At the moment, I really want to use that whip and erase her overbearing smirk.” The other replied. Youngho raised an eyebrow, smiling.

“She has a boyfriend.” Johnny couldn’t help himself from replying.

“Well, what an imbecile boyfriend she found, then. I wouldn’t let my girl do it!”

“You see, I’m sure he doesn’t even know she's a stripper.” The first guy laughed. “Those girls with these innocent faces are the most dangerous. He probably thinks she's sleeping now.”

“In fact he knows she's a stripper, he even encourages her to do so.” Youngho felt his stomach clench in disgust. He hated mortals, that was undeniable, but he liked women. It was no doubt that the world’s Lord and Saviour came from one of them. “What is beautiful was meant to be seen.”

“Even so! He's giving his woman in a tray for other guys.”

“I’m really confident in myself.” He smiled as he noticed their eyes widening.

“Good God, we didn’t know! Really, we’re sorry for saying that!” The one that wanted to whip Y/N wilted. Youngho wanted to laugh, but he had to keep his pose.

“Relax, you were not the first ones.” He shrugged, holding back the laughter.

Another song started and Y/N approached the pole dance. Youngho stopped caring about the audience and focused on the girl who passed a glorious leg by the pole. He caught a sigh as she turned around and paused with her butt facing the public. Youngho thought about several things, especially spanking and biting. The thought intensified as soon as they exchanged a glance by mistake. She was probably looking atound at people and her gaze fell on him... Not that he was complaining; he could feel how she had changed minimally when they faced each other. Johnny licked his lips and Y/N felt a pang in her heart.

She did her best to keep the dance level professional, but with every twirl or choreography move, Y/N knew Youngho was watching her and his attention was simply too good to ignore.

After returning to the room and showering, Y/N was ready to call her friends and leave. She just needed to get the money from... Youngho. She let out an unrecognisable sigh, something between resignation and debauchery. Of course, she would have to talk to him after their little… Thing. Armed with her finest femme fatale pose, she opened the door.

But Youngho was expecting her first.

“Just Y/N.” He smiled politely.

“Johnny.” She squeezed her hands, for she had nowhere to put them but the pocket of her shorts... And that would be weird. “I was going to look for you.”

“And I was expecting you to do so.”

“Uh... About the payment...” Y/N cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“Can we discuss this in my office?”

“Yes, of course. Wherever you feel better with.” She took a deep breath.

“Your performance was wonderful; I have heard many compliments.” Feeling that Y/N was tense, Youngho chose to take it easy. Her light was so tempting, it looked so delicious, that he could not afford to make a mistake and lose it.

“Thanks.” Y/N forced a smile.

The two of them went up to the third floor of the mansion, where Youngho had his office and bedroom. Y/N was surprised by the elegance of the place, because she did not expect men to be organised and to have good sense at that age... Well, she did not know how old he was, but it should not be more than mid-twenties?!

“Please sit down.” Youngho pointed to a leather chair in front of his mahogany table.

“Thanks.” She swallowed hard. It seemed strange and wrong to be there.

“How about we drink something?” He suggested. “Liquor? Whiskey? Vodka?”

“I don’t drink alcohol, Youngho.” Y/N shook her head. “But a glass of water would be great.”

Youngho smiled. Since she did not drink, it would be difficult to make her feel relaxed, but he wouldn’t give up. Opportunities of that magnitude appeared only a few times in his... Life? Death? Existence?

“Well, I wanted to know if you'd prefer cash or...” Giving her the water she asked for, Youngho sat down in front of her.

“Whatever is easier for you, sir.” Y/N shrugged.

His eyes flashed mischievously.

Sir.

It was cute, though. Being near him made her aura shine brighter and it kept alluring him. If only he could drug her… It wasn’t playing fair, surely, but when did demons play fair, to begin with?!

“So, here it its.” Johnny stood up, opening a small door in one of the cabinets and taking a faux leather handbag from inside it. “Here’s all the payment, as if we had ten girls in total. You can share with your friends the way you want.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you so much, sir.”

“Drop that ‘Sir’ thing, princess. I’m way too young for it and it’s way too sexual for me.” He smirked, sitting next to her. “Wanna count?”

“Yeah, that’d be reasonable.” She opened the handbag and her fingers grazed against his skin for just a tiny second, but she felt the same dizziness and coldness.

They counted together, just so she could make sure she was receiving everything. Johnny noticed how interested Y/N was in money, and started plotting. Maybe he could bribe her into being corrupted? Maybe he could pay her to have sex with him (which would make him twice as happy)? Maybe he could use money to convince her to commit a sin or something? However, as soon as she finished putting the cash back, she stood up.

“Thank you again, Youngho. It was a pleasure dancing here.”

“I assure you we feel the same.”

“Good.” She cleared her throat. “Goodbye, then. Have a great… Dawn, I guess.”

“Can you spare me a minute, please?”

When Y/N looked at him, she knew what he was going to say. She received the same offer a thousand times. It used to be offensive, but now she was alright with it. What pissed her off, though, was that she was tempted to accept it this time. He was different from the other guys. He had charms, smooth talking voice, those pouty lips and silky hair. Youngho was broad and tall, making her wonder how sexy it’d be if he caged her in, occupying all the space between them. His eyes had a amber glow she didn’t notice before, looking like hot cognac, and her mouth dried. It’s been years since she last drank alcohol, and brandy was her favourite beverage.

She was thirsty for cognac.

Or was it for Seo Youngho?

“Yes, sir.” She replied automatically.

“There you go again.” He smirked, but it had a pinch of humour in it. As if he thought she was, somehow, cute. “Well, Y/N, I’ll be really blunt since I hate tiptoeing around things.”

“Good, because I hate it too.” She thanked her amazing self-control because her feet stood their ground, not shaking with the anticipated offer.

“Do you have a ride back home, right?”

“Yes, I do. We all do, actually.” Y/N frowned.

“What about a place to put all this money?”

“Yes, Youngho, I do.”

“And a boyfriend? Do you have one?”

She couldn’t believe it at first, but then she grinned.

“Smooth as fuck, sir.” Y/N felt goosebumps all over her skin. “But no, I don’t have one yet.”

“Yet?”

“It’s not that I’m looking around, but one may come eventually, don’t you think?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t arrive sooner.” Youngho blinked, his eyes shining even more. “But it makes things easier for me. Would you like to hang out any time? Maybe have dinner…”

Y/N gulped, a bit shocked. She hoped he’d be like “I can pay you around 3k, so maybe you can suck my dick and let me fuck you?!”, because that’s what she used to hear from the guys that wanted to sleep with her. Being a stripper, sometimes and for some people, meant she was also a prostitute. It was “common knowledge”, even though it was wrong. But at least Johnny seemed interested in having dinner with her first.

That was too dangerous.

“Sorry, Youngho, but I don’t fuck business.”

To her surprise, he laughed. A relaxed, full of humour and sweet sound. Nothing erotic nor offensive. He laughed as if she really told him a good joke.

“You don’t accept drinks, don’t accept dinner offers… Then you don’t fuck business. What do you do, Y/N?” Johnny crossed his legs. His trousers were thick against his thighs, she noticed. Oh, it was torture to acknowledge his strong muscles since she wasn’t able to sit on them.

“I accept payments and pretend I have some sort of power over men.” Y/N smiled. “Excuse me, then, Youngho. The girls might be tired and wanting to go home.”

“I’ll see you again, Y/N.” He said.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged, opening the door.

“It wasn’t a suggestion, princess.”

Y/N swore she’d never forget the diabolic shine he had in his eyes.

●●●

And she never did.

During two whole months, Y/N felt as if Johnny was observing her, even though it was impossible. They never met after the party. Not even once. No one talked about him either. Totti had five more jobs for her, in exclusive parties, but no Seo Youngho in them.

However, every time she arrived in university it was as if someone was following her. When she went home, until she locked up her door, she felt eyes on her. When she was sleeping, she had glimpses of those golden eyes although Johnny had nothing to do with her dreams. Every once in a while, she felt the coldness of his skin.

He was slowly driving her crazy.

On that specific Wednesday, Y/N had had the worse of days. First of all, her teacher made her re-do her paper because she didn’t used the theory she (her teacher) wanted. Then, her job was shit since one of the new interns fucked up a project and she had to clean up their mess. So, thinking that her evening would end better, Y/N had the worst part: her tennis coach cancelled the class because his wife was giving birth.

Capital!

No good grades. No productive day on her job. No “stress-relieving” sports night.

It was indeed amazing.

To top everything, she received a call from Totti when she had just arrived home. Sad days like that reminded her of the only antidote to sadness: Arabic food from the Lebanese food-truck two blocks away from her building. One of her favourite cuisines was the Arabic one, and she was the luckiest girl ever when she found out about that food-truck.

“Hello Kashir!” Y/N smiled when she saw the middle-aged man. “Today I’m exceptionally hungry, so let’s make it a huge order: one large Lebanese beef schawarma, fattoush and baba ghanoush dip, please. Also, I want two attayefs with extra cream.”

“Wow, you’re really hungry. Two desserts in one night?!”

“Attayefs are my weak spot, Kashir.” She shrugged.

“Alright, little lamb.” He smiled. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”

Y/N sat down to wait for the food, and while at it, she checked up her Instagram. Lin had mentioned her in a picture of a celebrity they liked. When Y/N opened it, she decided she was actually overrated. Her smile seemed fake, her eyes had no expression and the way her arms were wrapped around Seo Youngho only made her look like an attention whore.

She closed her phone as soon as she zoomed in his face.

Those eyes – kinda gold even in pictures – had that hint of cognac that drove her mad. How was that possible?! Y/N never met anyone with eyes like his.

He said that they’d see each other again, but turns out he had other things to do.

Or girls…

“The incredible Johnny Seo.” Y/N mocked the actress’ subtitle. “What’s so incredible about him tho? Being good-looking is nothing nowadays.” She scoffed.

Oh, for fuck sake! She was getting jealous over him!

Could the day get any worse?

“You smell like Arabic food.” Totti smiled.

“Yeah, I ate some for dinner.”

“Good, so you’re happy.”

“Yeah, Totti, I am. But I have this feeling that my happiness won’t last…”

“Nah, don’t say that.” He waved a hand. “The thing is: I got this huge, huge deal.” He waved again, stressing how ‘huge’ it was. “And they want you.”

“They?”

“Actually, him. But, of course, I told him that it didn’t mean you’ll sleep with him. Also, that if he makes you uncomfortable you’re free to leave without finishing your performance. And, if he touches you without your consent, he’ll have to pay twice the price.”

“But who is he?”

“This I can’t tell you, it’s part of the contract. However, we can call him ‘Devil’.”

“Oh, fuck, Totti.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re really selling me to someone I don’t even know?! What makes you think I’ll accept doing it?”

“I’m not selling you, Y/N! You know I’d never let you go to some creepy dude! You’re one of my golden girls, for fuck sake! What do you take me for?!” He frowned, offended.

“The thing is: I have no idea who the fuck ‘Devil’ is.” She mocked the nickname. “And I have to re-do a fucking paper because my teacher is a cunt. Literally. Also, Janet, this new intern, fucked up a building renovation and I had to clean up her mess the entire evening. I’m so exhausted I can’t even think about dancing to some unknown weird guy.”

“Y/N, Jesus Christ, he’s willing to pay 14k for you. Can you fucking imagine?! 14k just for you to wiggle around and whip him in the thigh.” Totti almost screamed. “I mean, 14k is what you’re gonna receive after I take my part.”

Her eyes grew at the payment.

“14,000 pounds? You swear?!”

“On my mom’s life. 14k, girl!”

“W-what the fuck.” She was shocked.

No one ever offered so much money to have her. No one ever seemed interested in only having a private dance for 14k. If this guy wasn’t crazy, he was obsessed about her.

“I’m in.” She gulped, replying as fast as possible. She couldn’t back out when so much money was on line. The things she could do with that… The places she could go! “I’m so in.”

“Oh, girl, when money talks…” Totti smirked. “Get ready for Friday, 9P.M. I’ll get a car to take you there. Don’t worry, it’s in a hotel.”

“People can still get murdered in hotels, Totti.”

“Yeah, but not you.” He winked. “Relax, really. He’s a VIP member of my club and he’s extremely respectful towards women. If anything bad happen, he knows I’ll have his head.”

“Good; it’s good that you pretend to care with so much confidence.” She joked, but her heart was beating fast. She’d definitely tell the girls about it, so they could just be aware.

●●●

Y/N finished her second cognac glass, thriving on the hot and sweet syrup. She paid the barman and walked to the lobby again. Breathing in and out, slowly, she gathered up enough courage to go to the hotel room her “guest” was in. Pressing the 24th button, the last floor, she waited for the elevator to arrive in there.

The 2402 room had its door a bit open, an invitation to her just walk there, without knocking. Her stomach flipped with anxiety, since she had no idea with whom she’d deal with. It was moments like those that she wished she had faith to lean on and ask for protection, since she was afraid. However, her religion was money and she’d get down on her knees and do whatever it wanted. Y/N blinked twice, taking a deep breath and stepping in.

It wasn’t a regular hotel room, she noticed. The wide space had glass windows that faced the city lights instead of walls. On the bed space, it had an amazing black brick wall; two medium yellow light lamps illuminated the silky grey bed sheets and gave it a sensual atmosphere. Next to one of the window-wall, a round dinner table was set. Y/N felt a strange comfort in being there… Minimalist decorations were her weak spot, honestly.

She left her purse on the dining table, amused that it really had food in it. Before she could restrain herself, one of her hands grabbed a strawberry.

The door made a locking sound.

Devil had arrived.

“Oh, you’re already here.”

She turned around only to find Seo Youngho dressed in a silky red suit, his black hair parted in the middle, his dark, cognac eyes shining in a low glow. And she knew, in that very specific moment, that they would sleep together.

“So it was you.”

“I said we’d see each other again.” Johnny smiled.

“I thought you were too busy being The Incredible Johnny Seo to remember me.”

He frowned for a small second, and then smirked – his gaze turning into something more predatory. So she saw the picture and she felt slightly jealous about it... Wow, his day just couldn’t get any better. He had it all schemed in his mind, prepared for a battle, but Y/N was making it so easy.

“And I thought you were too busy not fucking business to remember me.”

She scoffed.

“What does this even mean?!”

“This mean that I paid for a lap dance and I’m eager to have it.” He said, relaxed. “And, maybe, just maybe, if you behave like a good girl, we can dine together.”

Y/N scoffed again.

“You’re so arrogant, sir.”

“Yeah, they tell me this all the time.” Johnny pointed to the bed. “Should we do it there?”

“No, just grab a chair and… Ugh, put it anywhere.” Y/N gestured vaguely.

Deciding she’d make a mess of that arrogant face, Y/N prepared herself to the best lap dance she could give someone. Having created a new performance, she didn’t bring the whips and the Burlesque lingerie she used to wear; instead, she had this emerald velvet and lace set – with a triangle bralette, together only with a black velvet choker and her black heels. Turning on the song, Y/N sighed, getting rid of all her stress. It was time to get into character.

Youngho was sitting in the middle of the room, but somehow right in front of the bed. Playing the music, Y/N walked slowly towards him. Her eyes focused on his figure, taking in how gorgeous that man was. It was weird that she still couldn’t get over his beauty, it was like he awakened all her hidden lust… Like he was always trying to find a way to seduce her.

Touching the hem of her dress, Y/N started her performance. She could feel his eyes boring into her, totally interested by what she could offer. A mutual interest, if she was being honest. Y/N wanted to register every reaction he had, savour them, just like she did at his party. She twirled and wiggled, her butt always near his hands, provoking, tempting. Every time she would do a lap dance, Y/N reminded herself from what the pole dance teacher had once said: “Men don’t really care for clothing and how you take it off; all they want to see are your tits and – if you’re feeling generous, your pussy –, ideally, as soon as possible”. That’s why she was always quite quick in getting undressed. Things in lingerie were absolutely more fun.

Pulling her dress straps aside, Y/N got rid of the fabric, revealing herself in her new undergarments. Youngho saw the velvet set and his mind went blank. Y/N was truly ethereal. She was an art piece and he wanted her locked in in Louvre, Prado or whatever museum she’d prefer. His hands ached to touch her smooth skin, to feel every piece of life she had to give. In that moment, he was grateful God created humans.

He licked his lips when she knelt in front of him, her small and warm hands touching his thighs while she leaned forward, obviously showing him her breasts.

“Oh.” Johnny wanted to curse, but his breath got caught in his throat. “It tickles.”

Y/N smirked like she was the personification of lust. Her aura changed slightly, only showing the effect Johnny had on her. He wanted to kiss her, eat her open. Then, without the inconvenience of clothes, she approached him again – a burst of courage running through her blood. She faced away from Youngho, her ass barely touching in his lap as she slowly pressed it into his knees. He swallowed hard, excitement jolting through his body. Due to their agreement, Johnny kept his hands out of equation, but he had to fight the urge to grab that pretentious butt. She slowly leaned back in, her shoulders touching his chest. Surprising him, Y/N turned around smoothly, opening her legs and bending down for less than a second, then walked away. Johnny felt one arm slowly gripping his shoulder, her nails scratching his suit slightly. She pulled his jacket off, leaving him in his black button-down shirt. Feeling his muscles, Y/N forgot for a moment what she was doing – hypnotised by his strong body. Caressing his chest down, she purred, loving how it felt on her fingers. Johnny bent his head backwards, his smooth hair grazing her skin and making Y/N shiver, bringing her back to reality. And that was when Youngho realised he had a lot of power over her, too. The look in her eyes were like pleads of pure lust. For a brief moment, she gave him a sweet, subtle grin, sitting on his lap with one leg at each side. He was shocked. Enjoying it, of course, but shocked.

What happened to the “No touch” rule?

“Is this part of the performance?” He heard a low chuckle. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Neither was I.” She confessed. “But I’m doing a new dance.” Her mouth was so close, her body so warm, her light… Oh, boy, her light!

Thinking fast, Youngho decided to put his evil nature to good use.

“I doubt you can ride my thigh for 4,000 pounds.” He breathed out, the hot air hitting her and making her shiver. “You’re already seated, mei fortuna.”

Y/N’s lip suddenly went dry, her body tensed up but she knew it was ready to do whatever he asked for. She wasn’t used to being aroused by just a single sentence, let it out by a strange petname she had no idea about the meaning. However, it somehow seemed so right. Besides, with more 4k, she would have 18k. That was a shit ton of money. That was perfect.

“Alright, sir.” Cocking her head to the side, she looked right into his eyes, needy for something.

The smug smile Johnny had on his face deserved to be on an art gallery. Having her saying “Sir” while she started to rock her pussy against his leg was just out of this world, Hell and Heaven. He felt – ironically – like a god. Y/N moaned lowly, her fingers digging into his shoulder while she looked down to his mouth, licking her lips again. That made him use his last trick:

“I dare you to kiss me for more 8,000 pounds.”

Her eyes sparkled in pure desire: for both kisses and money. Johnny had no doubt she’d do it… And he had no doubt it’d be glorious.

Y/N reached for his mouth eagerly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her head bent down because of her position. They met in a sensual tongue dance, his hands grabbing her hips and making her move while he drank every sound from her. They were hungry for each other, but decided to keep things slow. She pulled at Johnny’s hair, moaning slightly from the softness – and from the pressure his thigh made on her clit –; the kiss became wet, more desperate. Johnny could feel her light starting to give in to his darkness, his vitality increasing by every second… And he never felt better.

Bribing her was his best idea.

His fingers hooked against the velvet bra, pulling it to the side and getting a better touch of her boobs. Youngho heard her purring again and felt her body heavy against his. Y/N was totally seduced by him. Devouring her, he started stroking her nipples, pinching it a bit and swallowing her moans. He sucked on her tongue, motioning what he would do with her neck, her beautiful breasts, and luckily – her pussy.

“Do you,” Johnny left her mouth for a second. “like it rough?”

She panted.

“Damn, I do.”

His lips met her neck while he unclasped her bra. Throwing it away, he left a trail of kisses from her base to her nipple, then coming up again.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t do it any other way.”

He seemed so confident that they’d end up having sex that Y/N also bought it. She could feel his muscles against her – while she rocked her hips in search of some relief, they were flexing as if they knew the right amount of hardness that could drive her crazy. One of Youngho’s hand came to grab her breast, the other one still helping her to keep on moving. He squeezed the round surface, then moved to her neck, wrapping around it but barely making any pressure. Moaning defeated, Y/N closed her eyes, her body numb. How did he guess her most secret kink?! Without warning, he clenched his fingers, chocking her slightly.

She trembled against his thigh, her nails sinking into his left arm and right shoulder. He mimicked the move, earning another shaky hip thrust. He put some more pressure, adoring how she quickened her pace – now truly hoping for an orgasm.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked, cocky. Y/N shook her head. “Mhm… Don’t think so.” He stopped her hips. “First you gotta ask, mei fortuna. It’s not that easy, you know?”

Y/N opened her eyes, quite annoyed. She wanted to scoff and tell him to fuck off, but she knew her mouth would actually say ‘Fuck me, please’.

“Can I cum, Youngho?”

“Hm… That’s not really my name, princess. Try again.”

She growled, now more annoyed then before.

“Can I cum… What the fuck am I supposed to call you? Devil?”

He laughed at her angry spat.

“That’s also what they call me, even though it’s not what I’m looking forward hearing from you. Although I asked you not to, you’ve called me that a hundred times, if this may help.”

Y/N recalled the day they first met, a word surging on her mind on the spot.

“Can I cum, sir?”

Johnny’s smile would’ve made all city blind.

“Behave yourself and then I might let it happen.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he bounced his leg and she shut up.

“Move.” He said in a low voice.

Grinding back on him, Y/N noticed what made her so angry: that man was stupidly handsome, sexual and was about to make her cum in a short time. It wasn’t fair at all. Leaving his shoulders, her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, each hole revealing his bare chest. Toned, slightly tanned and delicious. Without asking, Y/N leaned forward, kissing his neck while her hands went through the fabric to touch his skin. Youngho growled in pure satisfaction, and the sound was enough to push her to the edge. Swirling her tongue, she copied the motion with her hips, in a lethargic rhythm, just because she loved suffering.

“Choke me again, sir.” She whispered in his ear, lust filling her voice. “Please.”

Johnny’s hand caressed her whole body before stopping on her neck, wrapping it and squeezing it stronger than last time. Y/N’s eyes flew shut, a wave of pleasure washing through her as she felt herself come undone. Rocking her hips with more strength, Y/N rode her orgasm just thinking about riding Johnny for real. If he made her cum with only his thigh, she couldn’t imagine what he would do to her with his dick.

The went room silent for a brief second as the song ended.

“Are you done or is it part of the show?”

“I’m done.” She spoke, opening her eyes to find those devilish yellow orbits looking at her.

“Capital.” He kissed her hungrily.

Y/N took his shirt off, her mouth rough against his. She felt his strong back, grazing her fingers against every inch of skin she could touch. He was so cold even in a heated moment, and that was weird, but she only felt more aroused by him. Johnny touched her legs, putting them around his hips as the kiss came to an end.

“We’re going up. Hold tight.”

“Oh my God, it’s happening.” She whispered to herself, but due to their proximity, he heard.

“Well, I’ve never heard you calling God, I’m quite surprised you’re doing this while we sin.” He chuckled; having in mind he indulged her to commit two of the seven deadly sins.

“It’s my first time doing it, to be honest. But I have this strange feeling I’ll be calling Him a lot today.” She felt the mattress on her back. They were on the bed.

“Poor lad, having you calling him in such a dirty situation.”

“Then whom should I call? Satan?”

Johnny grinned. “That would be reasonable, but he might be quite busy, don’t you think? Why don’t you just call me, instead?”

“But shouldn’t I call you ‘Sir’? It’s weird to moan ‘Sir’.”

“I can’t decide whether you’re being sarcastic or really confused.”

“Maybe I was being sarcastic…” She smirked, her fingers touching his collarbones. “Your skin is so cold, sir. Why’s that?”

“Youngho.” He pecked her lips, pulling himself over her and hating the fact that she noticed how cold he was. It was time to capture her total attention. “Call me Youngho now.”

“So we’re dropping the ‘Sir’ thing, sir?” Y/N blinked innocently.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Maybe.”

Johnny smiled, getting up and sitting on the bed. He patted his lap and looked at her. “Come here, mei fortuna. You should’ve known better than this.”

“Do I get to sit on your lap again, sir?”

“No, princess, you get a good spanking session for being a brat.”

“Oh, so you like brat taming?” She laid down on him, her belly pressed against his knees.

“You got way too comfortable with me. Minutes ago you were trying to put out a femme fatale facade, now you’re all talkative and making fun of my kinks.” He chuckled, caressing her bum.

“You gave me an orgasm, sir. This actually means a lot to me.” Y/N held on the bed sheets, anxious for when he’d start the punishment.

“Hm… So now I mean something to you?! Did I go up a level? Am I no longer ‘business’?”

“You were never business, sir.”

One slap.

She jumped out of surprise, her butt aching and a scream caught up on her throat.

“If you lie again, I’ll have to double the slaps.”

“Jesus Christ, Youngho! You could at least have warned me you were starting!”

Johnny grinned with immense pleasure. Only Y/N would use his name along with Jesus in the same sentence. Yuta would laugh for days if he knew about it.

“Why? You want to count how many slaps you’ll get?!”

“No. Just so I can prepare myself.”

“Then it’s no fun, Y/N.” He slapped her again.

“Fuck.” She spat, still feeling it ache. How many slaps should she take until the pleasure arrived?

She got 12, in total. Around seven, Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears, but every time Johnny’s cold skin touched her, she could feel her pussy getting wet. Again. But when she thought he was over, Johnny pushed her panties to the side and slightly touched her, coating her juices on his fingers and stroking up and down. Y/N moaned softly, completely doomed.

Johnny started finger-fucking her, going in and out in a slow motion just to push her over the edge. His bulge was aching, but he knew better than to go to the main act right now. He loved taking things slow and he’d savour every piece of her… He’d savour every second of totally corrupting her and taking over her entirely. That delicious light, oh, he’d have it all. Y/N propped up on her knees, still being fingered by him, and started undoing his belt.

She palmed his hard member, pulling his trousers plus underwear down a bit to reveal it. Y/N chuckled, quite nervous but quite satisfied, and leaned downwards, licking the tip of his cock. Youngho stopped his movements and growled, making Y/N look up to find him watching her with hungry eyes. She used one hand to stroke all his length, moving it back and forth, just warming up. Knowing that sucking it or masturbating it weren’t everything, she used her free hand to pay extra care in his balls; she held one of them and squeezed it gently. Almost at the same second, Johnny pulled on her hair, forcing her head down. Y/N licked his shaft once again, increased the pressure on his testicle, swirling her tongue while she blinked fast, adjusting him in her mouth. His dominant side made an appearance again, because he started bobbing her head in his desired rhythm, hips thrusting in as she came down.

“You’re so eager to please, mei fortuna. I’m so lucky.” Johnny purred.

Y/N scratched his thighs at the sound of the petname, strangely flattered. She kept sucking him, concentrated in giving him enough space to fuck her mouth. A loud slap echoed in the room and she realised he had smacked her butt again. Stopping on track, she looked up at him.

“Keep going, Y/N.” He breathed out, looking tortured.

She left the bed, getting on her knees in front of him. That way, she had more stability to suck him off and he could control her better. Focusing on the tip, Y/N dragged her tongue around it, sucking slightly and making a “pop” sound, repeating it all over again until Johnny gave in, thrusting back on her mouth in a quick pace. He growled, hips fast and hands tightening around her hair, pushing her face down with every thrust. She gagged a bit, eyes tearing as he kept mouthfucking her, searching for his own release. Johnny was careful not to suffocate or hurt her in any way other than pleasurable, but when he felt his orgasm arrive, he couldn’t help but hold her head with a bit more strength than needed, pulling at her hair tighter.

He suddenly stopped, making Y/N frown due to the small pain in her scalp and abrupt pause. However, when she looked up, she didn’t know whether she was crazy or very enchanted. Youngho’s eyes were a shade brighter than amber, like liquid gold she so much loved on jewellery.

Jesus Christ, the man was stupidly handsome.

Without saying anything, she stood up, pushing her panties down and crawling back to his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N kissed him eagerly. Mouths colliding in tongues and teeth, their hands grabbing any skin they found on the way. Youngho started to get familiar and enjoy those delicious sensations that any miserable touch of Y/N made him feel. The kiss began to slow down, but still extremely charged with lust. Her lips touched his neck, biting hard on the sensitive flesh as she lifted her hips to grind him. He could feel her warm body tensing, her heart beating too fast; and he decided he had dragged it for too long. Pushing her to the side so she could lay on the bed, Youngho took his trousers completely off, grabbing the condom before throwing the fabric somewhere in the room.

“On your back, ass up, face down.” He told her, his voice raspy.

Y/N got on all fours, anxious. She heard the plastic ripping and a soft grunt – probably because he was putting the condom on. Y/N closed her eyes, waiting. She felt a weight on the mattress and then Johnny’s cold skin. The tip of his fingers ghosted around her butt, brushing against her wet pussy and slipping in, while he gave her another slap. She only moaned, too tense to move or argue with him. He fingerfucked her for a brief moment, then positioned himself behind her, moaning a husky ‘Fuck’ when he entered her warmth. It was amazing how with Y/N he didn’t feel so cold, just more alive. She clenched around him, and Johnny felt her aura wave, as if it was fighting against something.

“Let me in.” He murmured, knowing she wouldn’t understand at all.

But Y/N did. Her body was hectic, her heart beating too fast for her liking. Her head felt heavy, her limbs going numb, and with every thrust it was as though Youngho wanted to crawl under her skin, as if he was colonising all her cells. As if he was taking everything from her. She was sweaty, tiring out, but she couldn’t stop. Youngho kept going rough, hitting all the right spots and taking her to a spiral of pleasure, one she would never forget, one she always only heard about, but never experienced. Even if his pace was slow, Y/N felt everything. It was intense, raw and lustful.

Devilish, indeed.

Another slap made her stiffen, this time grabbing some of the bed sheets to muffle her scream. He pulled on her hair, bringing her up so her back was touching his chest, and then she felt his teeth on her shoulder, biting hard, ready to mark her. Johnny’s pace got quicker, their bodies making noises when their flesh met. He loosen the grip on her hair completely, only to wrap his hand around her neck. Jesus Christ, she was about to convulse. Y/N gripped on his arm, trying to stay still while he restlessly thrust in her… Until she felt the pressure on her lungs. She could barely function, the choking way too much for her to ignore the pleasure. Y/N clenched again, on the verge of a powerful orgasm. Youngho started whispering in a different language, something a bit archaic and hard to decipher; it sounded like Latin, yet, kinda unique, and it had a strange effect – like a curse being said, hypnotising her. Her eyelids got heavy and she gave herself in, falling right into nirvana.

Y/N understood clearly the meaning of “Le petit mort”. She could feel her heart beating so fast while her whole body gave up shaking. Her body hit the mattress and she opened her eyes, feeling herself suffocate in a sweet but agonising sensation. Gasping for air, she found nothing but Johnny’s intense gaze on her, as if he was mesmerised with her struggle.

Then she realised… She was really dying.

●●●

A loud thud on the room made Yuta roll his eyes.

“You really can’t stop yourself from being noisy, can you?”

“I was trying hard, mate.” Lucas sighed. “Did she wake up?”

“Nothing yet. However, her pulse came back and her heart is beating.”

“It’s been three days already; her friends are going nuts.”

“Well, I’m doing my best here, but I honestly have no idea of what happened. Johnny won’t talk and she won’t wake up.” Yuta spat. “I’m not a healer of any kind.”

“It’s alright, let’s not worry too much. If corrupting beings of light were this problematic, no one would bother doing so. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t believe in us…”

Youngho entered the room before Lucas could finish his thought. Yuta and he had shifts on taking care of Y/N, since they were the most skilled on weird stuff. He never expected her to die, neither to revive. He expected nothing but getting more powerful and earning more fame for corrupting a soul like hers. Then again, she was like that: cold, slightly lifeless and ethereal.

“How’s babysitting?’

“Good now that it’s over.” Yuta stood up. “She didn’t wake up.”

“I figured it out.” He sighed. “Her friends are sleeping over again.”

“Yay, another night with humans.” Yuta was grumpy. “I have no idea what you told them, but it would help me a lot if you really tell me what the fuck happened on that night.”

“I’ve told you already, bro. We fucked, she collapsed then died.”

“This isn’t right, Johnny. Things weren’t supposed to happen like this.”

He shrugged, offering his friend a smug smile.

“What can I do? It already happened.”

“You should find a way to fix it! You’re now powerful enough to do so.”

“Oh, all saints and demons out there, please help me!” He rolled his eyes. “Yuta, I have no idea what the fuck happened to her, I can’t feel her soul anymore and I don’t know how she’s still alive.” He looked at the girl on his bed. “I don’t think I can help in this since I don’t understand it. Let’s wait for her to wake up, and then I can try to figure something out.”

Johnny sat down next to her, opening a book and totally ignoring Yuta. He was in the middle of a chapter when he heard something moving on the bed sheets. Looking to his side, Johnny got startled: Y/N was sitting, her back straight and her head turned to him. When she blinked, he couldn’t ignore the yellow glow on her eyes.

“Mei fortuna?” He tried. “Are you ok?”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Fuck, you sound like Yuta.” He sighed.

“Youngho, honestly…” Her eyes went fully yellow.

Then he realised.

Jesus Christ, he turned her into a demon.

#nct smut #johnny smut #nct scenarios #johnny scenarios #youngho smut #youngho scenarios

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ships-for-you · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could I request angsty headcanons with Sebastian Michaelis? The person he likes is in love with someone else, maybe with Snake, and they are dating and he watches them being happy and so on? Thank you!

Sure thing anon! I’m not sure if my angst is good enough and this is more centered around Sebastian’s dilemma as he faces this problem of his. So there’s less information about the relationship the person he likes has with Snake.

Now, Sebastian isn’t really the type of character to simply, “like” a character in a romantically interested way.

Platonically? Sure, it’s still possible. The chances are extremely slim if you’re just an ordinary human, but may be possible.

So saying that Sebastian simply, “likes” someone? A mere human, on top of that?

G U R L

Let’s take a moment to assess ourselves. I know Sebastian would’ve if he came to the realization of this predicament.

So, let’s just say the object of his affection is dating Snake.

For Sebastian to even gain emotions close enough to the term, “Love”, they’d have to be special in some regard.

They’d probably have to be a servant working at the Phantomhive manor.

So, for the purpose of also being attractive to Snake, they’d have to be kind, polite, selfless, and essential the role model of what humans should have been like.

The type to bring bread occasionally to the hungry peasants that litter the alleyways of West End London. Reminding them that they shouldn’t steal and that they should work hard to get where they want.

The type to do services at the church like providing education for the children that don’t have the means to get private education or get sent to boarding school.

The type to always hold back her emotions so that she doesn’t do something reckless and conducts herself with grace at all times.

The type to inspire people. To lead their companions when they feel lost, all the while ignoring that they themselves are lost too.

So beautifully human. Beautifully flawed, but beautifully human nonetheless.

Initially, he contemplates he may only have found you interesting for your soul. Fragrant, smelling almost like cinnamon, vibrant too. A calm yet daunting shade of Green.

And mind you, he’s been thinking about you even before Snake came into the picture.

Whenever you pass by him with your rounds around the manor, he makes sure to take a big whiff of your scent. Breathing you in. To him, you clarify his sinuses but also leave his chest aching.

And then he realizes he’s stopped walking. He shakes himself out of his out-of-character reverie, and returns to his duties.

He sees the beauty in the things you do. He didn’t seem like the type to fetishize the Human race however the more he studied you, the more he’s come to understand your intentions.

And that they are far more innocent than any client he’ even worked alongside with.

That’s coming from Demon royalty so,…he really is ashamed of himself at times.

He’s still not quite sure whether he feels any genuine feelings towards you.

He’s not quite even sure if he cares about your opinion of him. Just as long as he can sense your being at all times.

It wasn’t until one night, after him and the young master had returned from their mission in hopes to obtain new information from the nuns at the church does he realize

it actually does matter.

The way you looked at him in minor disgust as Grell had his idiotic tongue flapping in his idiotic mouth about how he wished he could have been in that nun’s place.

Feeling every movement he did inside of her, bringing her to the edge…

In his “beloved’s” eyes, it was an activity only to be done by individuals seeking romantic connections within one another. And if he had done that only for the sake of fulfilling the master’s wishes?

Unbelievable. Unethical. Immoral.

You never complained about it outright for you thought you were in no position to do so, however you did feel that it was something unacceptable for your conscience but you understood that it had to be done.

But he saw it. In your eyes and in your thoughts.

And that was before you met Snake.

Although he never purposely “hung-out” with you exclusively, he did grow slightly protective of you.

Which, in yours and his mind, was not something he necessarily had the right to do as you had no established intimate relation.

As he saw the pair of you growing closer and eventually falling in love together, sharing secrets nobody but the two of you should know, supporting each other from the sidelines, a simple,

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed of yourself. You’re a servant of a distinguished and noble family now. Have more confidence in yourself.” Whenever he felt insecure of himself and worried for the reputation of you and his now master.

The Phantomhive manor was your home now and so you wanted to share the comfort of it with the one you cared for the most.

Sebastian would have chuckled at your politeness, had he heard you say this when you two were still on speaking term however he just scoffed bitterly when he passed by you two.

He somehow feels cheated. Cheated that he invested so much time into knowing you and yet you know this Snake for merely a few weeks and he gets to have you for himself.

He invested far too much time in observing you.

“What I wouldn’t give to go back to the time where I had no concerns for them.”

But he’d regret saying it shortly after. He could never feel disdain towards you, only himself. For not knowing how to process his emotions faster.

Emotions that were not designed to be understood by demons like him.

Perhaps he was simply deluding himself. Perhaps he was fetishizing you as a human entity. Perhaps he didn’t truly have genuine feelings in you and your soul and scent just lulled him into a false sense of familiarity.

It made him want for something he did not and could not have.

“All I wanted, it seems, was a happy ending.” he’d chuckle out and let out a breath that seemed to have been weighing on his chest for so long.

He’d worry he was going insane. He kept thinking, and thinking, and thinking. These were things not to be experienced by Demon Royalty. He doesn’t like it. He never liked it, and yet he continued on his merry way.

He doesn’t appreciate your presence as he did before, now that you were with Snake.

He doesn’t like the jealousy, he presumed, he was experiencing when he saw the pair of you together. And so, he purposefully ignored your presence all together. Just yours, not Snake’s because he still needed to talk to him during work hours. Not you.

Ciel notices. It’s hard not to when he practically sees his butler’s face the majority of the time. Sebastian doesn’t become less productive or less efficient in completing the tasks assigned to him, Ciel simply sees his butler seeming tired.

Demons aren’t supposed to look tired.

He is apathetic about his butler’s predicament until his curiosity gets the best of him, Why does he look so tired now, when he’s been given more and challenging orders before?

And his butler simply, although hesitantly, answers,

“I believe there’s…there’s this sadness in me, young Master. This raw, awful sadness that no one is to see and that someone like myself is not to feel.”

#black butler x reader #black butler #sebastian michaelis #angst #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji

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orionsangel86 · 4 years

Text

You know when I first joined Twitter I had many reservations. I had always heard that Twitter fandom was pretty toxic and for that reason I tried to avoid it as long as possible. Eventually with Tumblr slowly dying I just went for it. I was... pretty damn naive when I joined up.

I have always said, over and over again, that my main reason for even being in fandom was to meet new people and make new friendships that would outlast Supernatural. At this point in time I feel I have accomplished this, though I am always open to making new friends. I like to think, that this being my primary reason for being here, it makes me a genuine person. I am not altogether that interested in popularity, getting the most followers, making my opinion the one everyone MUST believe in, and I never had much interest in “fighting” antis first hand. Sure I liked writing meta and would defend myself if I was attacked, but seeking out drama and forcing my opinion on others were never things that I cared about.

Twitter changed me. I said I was naive, and I was particularly naive to people seeking me out, being super nice to me, inviting me into lots of various fandom GCs and welcoming me with open arms. When people do that, you feel loved, you feel like you are a part of something, and very quickly it can become addictive. You very easily start feeling like those people are your friends, and you get protective of them. You support them, stand up for them, and turn a blind eye when their behaviour gives you pause.

The other thing you should know about me is that I am an empath. Sometimes this is a strength, and sometimes it is a weakness. I hate the idea of upsetting people, and I feel strongly towards those who are upset. I always try to see different points of view in a situation, and I am very consciencous of offending people - When I have offended others, I tend to dwell on it for a long time afterwards, wanting to make things right. But I also think that being empathic can make me prone to manipulation. Especially of the emotional kind. When that happens I can get defensive myself, when I suspect emotional manipulation I shut down very quickly, and I can get spiteful towards it. It’s a defense mechanism. I often regret my actions later. I feel like Twitter fandom has brought out some of my nastier qualities, but I feel that I need to explain where I think this has come from.

I was invited into a GC that in hindsight, was a bad place. It was supposedly a place created to vent about things that upset us, and to keep an eye on that “other” side of fandom - the bronlys. It was a secret place, you must never talk about this GC, I was told. This GC didn’t exist. I’m going to talk about this GC, and in doing so will probably get attacked, subtweeted, called out directly, called a liar, exposed for being this that and whatever, probably have my private DMs shared, and yeah... a whole bunch of shit probably. I’m altogether not prepared for any of that, but since I have that whole bunch blocked now, I’m hoping any shit they say about me will blow over. Anyone who truly knows me, knows I am not the person they make me out to be anyway.

When I first joined that GC the point was to call out hate towards the cast and the writers. To find tagged tweets and bullying and harassment and make sure that the wider fandom knew exactly who the problem people were. I believed in that process. I believed that we were doing good for the fandom in making newer fans aware of who needed to be avoided, as I had heard stories first hand of people who had come into fandom reached out to bigger fandom accounts and immediately been shut down and bullied just for saying they liked Castiel or shipped Dean and Cas. I was angry at those hateful people and wanted some kind of justice for them, so yeah, I joined in happily with the call outs.

But over the past year, things have changed. First, it was not just calling out bronlies, it was calling out extreme stans, who also tagged the writers in their hate. Sure, I wasn’t happy that anyone was tagging the writers in hate, so fuck those people. They can go to hell. I’ll support the calling out of those names too. Then, when people started turning on meta writers like me and taking the piss out of our meta, calling it bullshit and mocking us, it was hurtful, so when that GC rallied together to support me and my fellow meta writers and call out those assholes I was all for it. They were screencapping my meta and calling me deluded after all, why shouldn’t I defend myself and get my friends to help? People in fandom can be dicks when they want to be. But then again, so can we all.

Then it got weird. I think people in fandom started getting nervous about the final season announcement and how the show would end. Cas stans started getting extremely negative about his chances for survival. Destiel shippers started complaining about Destiel being queerbaiting and planning on going after the writers if it didn’t go canon. These were people who I was mutuals with, whose accounts I followed, and whose opinions, whilst they were kind of upsetting for me as a positive fan, were untagged personal opinions and not hate. Those people weren’t attacking positive fans, though sometimes discussions got heated, arguably it got heated on both sides. When the GC started going after those people I started feeling uncomfortable. But I kept quiet. This, I have come to realise, was a huge mistake.

Suddenly other fans were fighting against the GC people. They (we) were called “the fandom police” and “the bully squad” by so many others. I started noticing how other fans, fellow Destiel shippers, were blocking me and avoiding me for my associations with this group. I watched as the GC people started slagging off accounts that were my long time mutuals, my close friends, people I had met in real life and knew to be good people all because they had voiced a slightly negative opinion about the show. If you are relatively well known in Supernatural fandom, chances are this GC has slagged you off.

At the same time, I had watched how some of my friends within the GC “clique” had started changing, how their behaviour online was becoming aggressive and mean. How they were antagonistic and bullyish. My friends. People who I knew were good people before. The dog piling, the condescending tones, the entitled sense of righteousness, it all added up. I started trying to voice my concerns, both to people I was close to within the GC privately, and timidly within the GC itself - for which I was shut down. I started reconsidering my own behaviour online. Had I too acted like this? Had I also aggressively gone after people for simply voicing a negative opinion? Had I also shown myself to be exactly what this GC was supposed to be fighting against?

Some of the others privately admitted to feeling the same way. Some of us backed off and stopped associating with the main GC accounts. We kept our distance from them, some I know muted them. But none of us left the GC. I wish I had back then rather than letting it escalate further.

It had once again got worse from just going after people with negative opinions, now they were going after anyone who disagreed with their specific opinions. Either you agree with us, or you are an idiot. I couldn’t stomach it anymore. My friend, who was also in the GC, decided to query this new line of thinking because she disagreed with the “big opinion”. This is what kicked off all the drama. I’m not going to go into detail about it because otherwise it’ll get too obvious and personal and I want to keep this vague because whilst these people have hurt me and spread lies about me I actually don’t intend to call them out personally or reveal whose who in the group.

Just know this. By the time I eventually spoke up it was apparantly too late. My admittence of my discomfort was seen as a betrayal. There were private DMs in which I got defensive and snapped back whilst emotional about basically losing all my closest Twitter friends, and some messages I sent which I am not proud of. If they get out, fair enough. Judge me all you like. Just understand that I was extremely upset and confused how no one else apparantly saw the issues I was seeing; that this GC was indeed bullying and policing fandom, and that these people were intimidating, threatening, and manipulating everyone into believing they were victims.

I tried to let it drop, I tried to ignore it. I wanted to keep quiet. But my quitting the GC, my request to those who were calmer and less inclined towards bad behaviour to at least keep the ones who were bullying fandom in line, didn’t stop them. Their behaviour has only escalated further and Twitter fandom right now is an awful place because of it. The bronlys must be laughing at us, because Destiel fandom has turned cannabalistic.

I spoke out recently. I tried to keep it vague in a tweet about the recent drama in general. But one thing I said gets pulled out separately and suddenly I’m the big bad wolf invalidating people and I’m a horrible person who is clearly fetishising destiel as I want them to fuck on the map table apparantly?!?! I mean, this is what these people do. They take something and blow it up. They twist your words, they basically throw a dictionary of large complex words at you claiming you are x,y,and z. they use terms like gaslighting and strawmanning aimed at you and in the confusion it takes you forever to actually realise that they are doing those things themselves. Constantly. To everyone.

Look I took it too far. I subtweeted too. I exhibited those bad behaviours as well. Hell, I learned from the best after all. I was in that GC for a year. Of course I am still trying to unlearn those behaviours. I am not proud of my behaviour on Twitter. After this post, I will try to do be better. Everyday. I will be better. I apologise to anyone I may have hurt by supporting and encouraging that behaviour.

I have had mutual friends tell me privately that I need to stop. What upsets me, is that those mutuals aren’t exactly telling the others to stop too. No. Those were the mutuals who stayed quiet whilst those particular people just constantly attacked and bullied everyone. So I’m sorry, but this is me not stopping, this is me making one last post on the topic. This is me telling my story as I see it. This is me pouring my heart out and getting it off my chest. This is my truth. I’m not spinning lies here, I’m not trying to twist anything, because I think I also come across quite badly. But the recent accusations against me, claiming I don’t care for anyone else in fandom, that my calling out “so called bullying” is just my personal vendetta against people who used to be my friends. Well, yes. Technically you’d be right there, they did used to be my friends, but no. Where you are wrong, is saying I don’t care. Because if I didn’t care about the bullying that I am STILL seeing on my timeline via upset mutuals reacting to the hurtful tweets of those I have blocked, I would just ignore it and not cause myself further drama. If I didn’t 100% believe those people were bullies, they’d still be my friends. I wouldn’t have called them out. Why would I put myself through all this if I didn’t 100% believe what I’ve been saying? That’s just madness.

Because here’s the thing, I HATE bullies. I have been bullied my whole fucking life, and what I hate MORE than that, was that through that GC I also became something that I hated. Because by associating with them for that year, I might as well have called myself a bully too. And that I just can’t forgive.

So my reason for writing this post is twofold.

1. Yes, it’s to defend the lies spread against me. So that those wondering if I am actually a fake bitch with a vendetta against certain people can make up their own minds. Perhaps this post exasperates that, or in your minds confirms their accusations about me. Maybe it does. I would argue that I am not fake. This isn’t fake. This is my personal truth and a very personal account of things that have greatly hurt me and caused me much internal conflict over the past few months. Those people who I am accusing (whose names I have left out to stupidly protect their privacy because believe it or not I’m not a bitch who encourages harassment against anyone even people I consider bullies) will never admit that their behaviour is wrong. They will continue to attempt to convince anyone who asks that I turned on them for no reason, or because I blindly follow my friend who they are also attacking and exposing right now for getting emotional and taking a DM convo too far. If you choose to believe them that is your right, clearly you and I were never close enough for you to trust my word over the words of people whose behaviour is clearly and proudly splashed all over their own social media accounts. Frankly, if you see all that, and still believe that behaviour is okay, you are no friend of mine.

2. It’s because I want people to know that actually, through all the pain and drama and emotion and loss of friendship, and conflict and struggle with my mental health, I do care. I care too damn much. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have spent an hour of my Sunday writing this out. Because this has been toiling and whirling inside me painfully for months and I am fed up of it. I had to write it down. I had to get it out of me. I want these people out of my life for good, but I can’t sit by and let bullies continue to manipulate my fandom, my mutuals, my friends who I see encouraged by their behaviour to imitate it. They are unfortunately very good at encouraging others to also partake in their behaviour. Please do not fall for it. Please consider your tone when tweeting or replying to someone with an opposing opinion. Please don’t feed bad behaviour by liking it and tweeting it just because you agree with the specific opinion buried within the condescension. Please don’t throw around strong accusations like homophobia against your fellow queer fans just because they have different desires from this dumb show that we all love.

If you can all do that for me, then I will promise to do it for you too.

I am terrified to post this post. I know that in doing so I am burning quite a few bridges. I know that those I accuse will do everything in their power to make out that I am insane, that I am a psycho. I know that I am exposing myself to more attacks, more harassment. I am sure there will be plenty of twitter threads dragging my name through the mud. They’ll dismiss all of this, call it bullshit, once again claim its just my personal vendetta against certain people. I guess I’m hoping that by anticipating all this and writing it down, it might give those people pause to just stop and leave me be. Stop the cycle of bad behaviour that has caused all this escalation and go back to enjoying the show without policing everyone else.

At this point I just want everyone to know the truth. Whether you believe it or not is your prerogative. This show ends in a few months time and I just want to enjoy it without seeing bullying in my timeline. That’s what this has always been about.

We must stand up to bullying. We must not let it ruin the final few months of this show. This post is my final word on the topic. I won’t respond to anything else. I won’t respond to any threats, any subtweets against me going forward. Hateful anons will be blocked. I won’t respond to anyone asking me for more info and I have no intention of naming people personally or giving more clues as to the GC or the people who were in it. So please don’t ask. Just keep an eye out for bad behaviour in fandom and if you see it, block or mute the source, only call it out if you know you have the mental capabilities to tackle the gaslighting. But absolutely do not support it. Do not feed the bullies as attention is what they want most of all, that and making their words the only words fandom follows.

I am done with this now. I won’t discuss this more.

#personal #fandom wank

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blackroseraven · 3 years

Text

You know, you really don’t have to engage with bad-faith arguments. You can just ignore them or make fun of them for being dumb.

I do try and respond in good faith to most things on first blush, but it’s easy enough to pick out when someone doesn’t want to actually listen to you, they just want to be listened to. There’s hundreds of tropes that you get used to seeing and identifying, like “free speech” and “do your own research.”

Free speech is incredibly important and the First Amendment is the first one for a reason: yes, yes, people say “but guns” and like I get why that’s so important to some people - and I’m not even being entirely mocking - but like, without freedom of speech, a free press, a right to assemble, the government just says “oh yeah we had to imprison Jerry for breaking the law” and like. No one’s going to know that Jerry wasn’t actually breaking the law. Oh sure, there’ll be rumors, but people like feeling safe and comfortable, and a lot more people will be happy reading and following the party line and believing that the government is only punishing the bad people rather than Jerry.

You might scoff at it but just look at how quickly people turn on someone that’s accused of a crime - especially crimes we find particularly repugnant as a society. Or in microcosm, how Jenny can show up with bruises and you know Peter’s always yelling at her but it’s probably nothing and she probably does something to deserve being yelled at, anyway, it’s not our business and we shouldn’t get involved, Jenny’s got friends to help her out anyway. “It’s not my problem.”

But freedom of speech doesn’t mean that telling you to shut up or why you’re wrong is censoring you. That’s answering speech with more speech. Likely, the First Amendment means the government doesn’t get to punish you for your speech; it doesn’t mean that you can’t get kicked off a platform for being an asshole. Unless you’re saying companies aren’t allowed to do whatever they want without government approval, that is, which is. You know. Communism or fascism or whatever today’s word de jour is.

A huge part of freedom of speech is the freedom other people have to respond to our speech - that’s “their” speech, it isn’t just a ME ONLY thing - and freedom of association means I can choose who I hang out with. Just because you really want to cling to me like a circa 2010 teenage girl to Justin Bieber doesn’t mean you can unless I allow you to. Telling you someone to “go away” doesn’t violate that. Blocking someone doesn’t violate that. Bragging about how “I never block anyone!” and “that snowflake blocked me” just makes you look desperate for attention and approval. I mean, if you don’t block, for example, a person who has made it their mission to send you goatse or worse every day, but you pride yourself in being sent that every single day, uh... what are you exactly getting out of that?

Actually maybe I don’t want to know, thanks.

Research is great; I write stuff, I research all the time. But research isn’t looking for an answer that suits you the most: research is asking a question, and looking for people with knowledge and expertise to assist you in finding an answer you can understand. Research is finding facts, not making an assertations and looking for pleasant lies that “prove” you correct.

We like to think of ourselves as logic-driven, but we’re often much more emotionally-driven and, in many unfortunate cases, “righteous” driven. Admiration or love for a person can make us overlook glaring character flaws. We develop particular worldviews that we absolutely do not like being challenged, and we assert that people we like or enjoy must be “like us,” and that means they can’t be cocaine-driven assholes, like James Woods.

James Woods was a fantastic Hades and is a great actor. He’s also a lunatic and a monster who hounded an anonymous commenter dying of cancer who was rude to him online with pointless but expensive lawsuits until the day he died, where he then celebrated “killing” the person who was rude to him.

These days especially, there is a lot of money to be made, and attention to be had, by creating alternate facts for people. Grift is not always obvious, especially when you set in motion a more long-term goal: what if I just recognize there’s a willing audience out there if I create some comforting pablum about how nothing bad is going to happen to you if you contract a certain virus, and then I monetize these videos? What if I create an asshole character for myself to play who does nothing but make the right people angry, and then I announce a tour to places that don’t want me, and fundraise when “my tour was cancelled by those snowflakes?”

It’s not always grift, of course. People who are prone to believing in conspiracies tend to be people who want to impose order on a chaotic world, often as a defensive mechanism. Combine this with the internet and the human need for socialization and reassurance, and things like believing that school massacres are false flag events make more sense. It eliminates the chaos from the world, the fear of pain or injury from some random, uncontrollable event, and creates an easy narrative that’s far simpler to digest. No one actually died: they were all actors, paid for by a shadow cabal, an evil, powerful, but tangible villain. People explain this to each other and it develops a mythos of its own of “theories,” and now you have friends who “understand” and that you feel connected to.

Sure, at first the fact the Deep State is everywhere seems like it would be terrifying. But think of the comfort! The Deep State is responsible for all evil, and if you could just defeat it, no one would ever suffer again. You lost your job? The Deep State saw you getting too close to the truth and is trying to distract you. If it wasn’t for the Deep State, you’d be rich, successful, happy, and independent, and there would be no wars, no partisan divide, and everyone would work together in harmony.

In other words, there is chaos in the world because the Deep State creates it, which ironically makes the world safer and structured.

Understandable.

And in today’s day and age, where you can “do your own research,” you’re now a soldier in the war against the Deep State. You can grow your community and reach out to people to try and get them to understand, and fight the Deep State with you! It’s exciting, isn’t it? Being a hero without ever having to leave the safety and sanctity of your own home. The protagonist of your very own adventure in real life.

A bizarre combination of magical thinking and delusion.

Okay, I’ve rambled and gone a bit off topic.

But the point is, like, you don’t have to engage these arguments. You don’t have to engage with magical thinkers, with trolls, with the willfully-deluded or anyone who doesn’t actually want to listen to what you have to say and just wants to proselytize to you about how they are correct and you are not.

You don’t have to “save” them, “help” them, or “correct” them if they don’t actually want any of these things, and you don’t have to debate or argue with someone just because they scream “debate me!” at you or sealion their way into a conversation or they goad you.

You can just ignore them or mock them or shrug. Online or, shockingly, offline as well. I mean, yes, I know. There are exceptions. People we can’t get away from, people we have to deal with or try and be nice to. That will eternally be a problem humanity will be faced with and it’s above my pay grade to solve.

But you don’t have to feel guilty or oblige strangers with more than a courtesy. Technically not even courtesy, but you know, I’m Canadian and all. And too many of us get dragged into pointless debates with people who thrive off abusing the social dynamics that are often trained into us from a young age.

The short version? People are dumb and often wrong. Save your time and effort for the people you actually value having in your life and who aren’t going to forget about you the moment they move on to their next target.

#politics

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theonceoverthinker · 4 years

Text

Make a Secret Out of That! (Fair Game)

Summary: Atlesians may not tend to make secrets out of things, but Qrow's no Atlesian. And when a chance encounter happens between Clover and his bird form, Qrow strives to keep it that way!

AO3

A/N: Here’s my Day 3 submission for Fair Game Week!!! @fair-game-week

Not a lot to say this time, so let’s jump right in! Enjoy!!!!

()()()()()()()() The people of Atlas tended to not make secrets of much of anything – that was something Qrow learned very quickly after arriving there. Atlesians were chatterboxes first and people second far more often than not. And of the many topics they always made their viewpoints about known, one of the biggest was their overwhelming disdain for the Atlesian winds.

While Qrow went about 50/50 with what things he agreed with the Atlesian consensus about and not, he strongly found himself on the opposite end with this one.

Qrow loved the winds Atlas so generously provided. They were strong, sure, but while they could be annoying -- something Qrow knew very well thanks to a semblance that never quite knew when to shut up -- they were also freeing thanks to that same strength.

But Qrow couldn’t exactly blame Atlesians for their problems with the wind.

After all, unlike himself, they couldn’t fly.

The skies of Atlas provided Qrow with miles upon miles of uncluttered skies to swirl across, and with Qrow’s exercises in his bird form having the added bonus of strengthening him as a human, Qrow liked to take to those skies whenever possible.

It was during the late afternoons that he flew the most. Because most of his companions were out on missions during those times, Qrow could soar to his heart’s content without having to worry about being away should anyone call upon him and by that time, his missions for the day were often done.

Qrow was never gone long – just an hour here and there – but compared to the confining and militant Atlesian Academy compound, that time and freedom was a godsend.

God, he’d never know how Clover -- another fan of the winds, by his own admission -- managed to stand spending so much of his life all cooped up there, sometimes days at a time from what he’d told him.

Clover…

His was a name that, regardless of his form or location, tended to show up a lot in Qrow’s thoughts lately.

He was a good guy, and he was starting to make Qrow feel like he himself was one too.

Qrow never believed he’d be able to deal with Clover Ebi, let alone actually get along with him after their awful first meeting.

But time had a funny way about changing his mind about a lot of things, and if he was grateful for that in regards to anything, it was about how much he now enjoyed Clover’s presence.

And speaking of…

“Qrow!”

Qrow was certain of few things in this world, but one of those few things that he was sure of was that because of a personality he could only describe as ‘loud,’ he’d never lose Clover in a crowd, much less a hallway where they were the only two around.

Apparently, the same could be said for Clover with him.

A kind smirk grew on Qrow’s face as he turned around to greet Clover, something that was quite common for him during their encounters now.

“You seem more chipper than usual,” Qrow said. “Didn’t even think that was possible.”

Clover flashed him a smile.

“Neither did I,” Clover teased, “but this morning, I saw something incredible, and I just can’t believe I got to see it.”

“Oh? What was that?”

“A crow!”

It took all that Qrow had in him to keep his shock from betraying him.

Clover didn’t seem to notice, and continued. “Can you imagine it? A crow just sailing through the arctic like it was just any old piece of farmland. It was beautiful.” Wistfully, Clover sighed. In that moment, he looked for all the world like a lovestruck prince from one of those animated movies.

For a moment, Qrow found himself at a loss for how to proceed. Of course, he knew he wasn’t bound to secrecy over his alternate form’s existence. He never really had been. Ozpin had only suggested he keep quiet about it in the past, but any loyalty he had to Ozpin to keep that or any secret for that matter had long since expired.

He could tell Clover if he wanted to.

...It’s just that Qrow didn’t KNOW if he wanted to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Clover. Hell, friends and allies he already knew included, he trusted Clover more than he trusted anyone in Atlas that wasn’t already part of his group.

No, what held Qrow’s tongue was the fact that frankly, he had not a damn clue just how to tell him the truth about it.

‘Oh yeah, that crow you saw? That was me. What? I didn’t tell you? I can turn into a bird!’

Clover was cool-headed, but Qrow had a feeling that no temperament could make news like that anything short of mindblowing, and Qrow was just not ready to have that or any kind of mindblowing conversation with Clover just yet.

And hey, just because Atlesians tended to not make secrets of things didn’t mean he couldn’t.

So instead, Qrow swallowed that very secret with a chuckle.

“Didn’t realize you were such a bird nerd.”

“I birdwatch a bit to relax,” Clover said. “They’re so graceful and adaptive. They’re just wonderful to watch. But never in all my years did I imagine I’d see a crow this far up north.”

Qrow bit his cheek. “Do you even get birds this high up?”

“A few, but there’s never been anything like a crow up here before. I can hardly believe my luck.” Clover looked at him and released a small chuckle, one that persisted for quite a long moment, one far longer than made sense even with all the wistfulness in the world.

“What up?” Qrow asked, unable to hold his curiosity back.

“It’s just that I can’t help but get the feeling that you’re the one to thank for this.”

“Oh?”

“Well, your name IS Qrow, is it not? And just as you come to Atlas, a crow of all things takes to Atlas’ skies? That’s one hell of an amazing coincidence, and semblance or no, I try not to delude myself in putting much stake in coincidences.”

“You know,” Qrow pointed out, “crows are supposed to be a symbol of bad luck.”

Clover merely shrugged, which Qrow both loved and hated him for. “Where you see bad luck, I simply see life happening, and a crow in the arctic is a pretty wonderful example of life happening, if you ask me. Honestly, I’ve always wanted to study a crow. I just wish I could get closer to it.” Clover paused for a moment, and then clicked his tongue. “I’ve got an idea!” he continued. “I should set up a birdhouse for it. If it wants to stay in Atlas, it might like a nice little home to call its own. After all, it gets so cold up here.”

Qrow couldn’t help the smirk on his face from growing wider. “Says the guy with the sleeve allergy.”

“Not everyone shares my resistance to the elements, Qrow.” In that expectedly unexpected way that he did basically everything, Clover then flexed one of his sleeveless biceps in Qrow’s direction. Qrow waved it off, prompting the both of them to start laughing, but appreciated the firmness of it as his fingers made contact with his skin.

The memory of the point of contact stuck with him for seconds after it ended -- not long enough for Clover to take notice because of their laughter -- thank the Gods, but long enough that Qrow certainly did.

In all fairness though, how could it not?

Qrow forced himself to blink and get back to the conversation before Clover DID notice. After all, their laughter was dying down, and there were many things Qrow knew he could make a secret of.

Flirting was not one of those things, not with Clover, in any event.

“So,” Qrow said, “are you going to build one?”

Clover shook his head. “Power tools and I have never gotten on. You should’ve seen me when I was making Kingfisher. I did a great job, don’t get me wrong, but never again. How those metal shears didn’t take off more than an inch of my hair is something that for once I can only attribute to my semblance.” Qrow laughed at the comment, and Clover gave him a not-at-all serious glare, a first for them in reverse. “No,” he huffed, though only for that word, “there’s a gardening store in Mantle that is supposed to have a nice selection of things that will be perfect for our little friend. I’ll just go there. They should have everything I need. A birdhouse, birdseed, a water dispenser.”

“You should get blankets, too,” Qrow interjected.

“Blankets?”

Qrow shrugged. “You said it yourself – it’s cold up here. The crow might not be warm enough there with just the wood protecting it. Don’t they normally live in warmer climates, after all?”

Clover nodded, biting the inside of his cheek and wagged his finger in a praising fashion.

“Good point,” he said, giving way to a smile. “You know, you should come and help me set it up. You’re not bad with this kind of stuff.”

“Trying to butter me up?”

“Depends – is it working?”

Yes, it was.

Qrow didn’t answer, just groaning in a way that he hoped would be taken as genuine, though Clover’s face told him point blank that it wasn’t.

Oh jeez, what did he just sign himself up for?

Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell the truth now...someday, but not on the day he basically commissioned a second home for himself.

Looks like he and Clover were even more opposited than Qrow thought.

But all the same, opposites did attract, and Qrow found himself still grateful for that.

“Let’s just get the stupid birdhouse,” he mumbled, walking towards the closest exit with Clover happily following behind.

()()()()()()()()()

Semblances weren’t magic.

Maiden powers weren’t magic.

Whatever abilities Ozpin and Salem had weren’t magic.

Naps, now THOSE were magic.

Who knew an after-fly nap could be so nice?

Well, Qrow DID know, but his schedule had lately not given time for such naps, so he forgot just how much they could do for his tired, tired body.

But that birdhouse of Clover’s just gave him a very pleasant reminder.

He’d have to find a way to say thanks...a way that didn’t involve revealing himself because BOY was he even less ready now to have that conversation with Clover than he was the day he had first been spotted.

‘Thanks for building me a birdhouse! Yeah, you didn’t know? I’m that crow you just spent an afternoon perching that birdhouse on your windowsill for! Funny, right?’

...Qrow was going to pass on that for now.

...In his defense, there were worse things to make secrets of.

“Qrow!”

Clover’s call had Qrow spin around to greet him, his breath somewhat hitched.

He had a funny feeling about what Clover was about to tell him, and it wasn’t funny in a ‘haha’ way.

“I was looking all over for you! You missed the crow in the birdhouse! He took a nap, and it was so cute! And now he’s gone.”

Qrow smirked apologetically. “Sorry, I was…otherwise occupied. But I know you took a million pictures on your scroll, so show me those. I’ll get the idea.”

Clover pouted, muttering about how Qrow was a total spoilsport, but the pout dissolved as he obliged Qrow’s request.

As Qrow looked at the pictures of himself nestling within the birdhouse’s blankets, he found that it was a struggle not to blush. He didn’t know why – after all, Clover didn’t know it was Qrow who was the subject of his little pet project.

But someone watching him sleep, even for reasons as innocent as Clover’s were, was so embarrassing.

However, he could admit that he did look pretty cute sleeping in that birdhouse…

And the fact that Clover found it equally cute was nice as well…

Maybe this was a secret kept for the best after all.

()()()()()()

“We’re talking. Now.”

Qrow blinked. Clover had been a lot of things towards him, but forceful was never one of them. But as he stomped into the room Qrow was relaxing in and glared at him while insisting upon this conversation, seemingly argumentative than Qrow ever believed Clover was able to be argumentative at anything, ‘forceful’ was the only real way Qrow could put it.

He felt cornered -- not in danger by any means, but cornered nonetheless.

And in all honesty, he knew this conversation was coming, and after their last battle had finally exposed the one thing he hoped would be in no hurry to be exposed, it was coming fast.

Karma was a bitch.

“You...that crow...the one I’ve been watching and buying things for...was you?”

It was a simple accusation, one with an even simpler answer, one that Qrow wanted nothing more than to not give.

But the jig was up, and he’d already digged himself into a deep enough hole as it was already.

Now was the time to start climbing himself out.

“Yeah.” Qrow elongating through the word as if it would bore Clover into dropping the subject.

Of course, he knew Clover better than that, but he couldn’t be blamed for trying, right?

...Right?

“You can turn into a bird?” Clover asked, his tone far more neutral now.

Qrow simply nodded this time.

“No.”

His tone was still strangely neutral.

“Yeah,” Qrow eased, his voice stuck somewhere between embarrassed and guilty.

“No.”

“Yeah.” This time, he let himself take a bit more pride.

Finally, Clover seemed to have had enough.

“I can’t believe it! It was you! All along, it was you, and you lied to me about it!”

Despite the fact that it was true, Qrow couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never seen Clover’s face so red, but here it was, its shade as crimson as Qrow’s eyes..

“You suck!” Clover cried. But even as he spoke, Qrow could see his face betraying him, his glare and frown threatening to crumble.

Maybe he could use that to his advantage…

Qrow made a face filled to the brim with mock hurt and placed his hand to his heart. “Is that any way to talk to the brave bird who saved your life? Those Grimm would’ve killed you if I hadn’t distracted them! You should consider yourself lucky.” To add a finishing blow, Qrow sent a smirk Clover’s way, and before Clover could truly start this confrontation, he was done in.

Noiseless breaths of laughter heaved out of Clover’s chest. He placed his hand to his face.

“You’re the worst,” he groaned, words muffled through his hand.

Placing a hand on Clover’s defeated shoulder, Qrow rubbed away.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just a bit better at keeping a secret than you Atlesians. You’re just not used to someone as sly and cool as me hanging around here. Takes time.”

After a long pause filled with more noiseless laughs, Clover separated his face and hand, now smiling and conspicuously calm. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll just have to learn to be as cool. And hey, maybe you can teach me. You are after all my favorite little birdie.”

Instantly, any satisfaction or pride Qrow took from his confrontation less victory was wiped away.

No one had ever called him ‘birdie.’ Even Raven -- the one person he could always count on for insults -- wasn’t that cruel.

But apparently Clover was.

And Qrow would be lying if he said that it wasn’t a fitting punishment.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t an annoying one, and Qrow couldn’t even try to make a secret out of that.

He groaned, and now it was his turn to bridge the gap between his own hand and face.

“That is awful, and I hate you for using it,” he grumbled.

Clover let out a hearty laugh at his pain, prompting him to squeeze his shoulders against his ears in a failed attempt to drown the laughter out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, playing far too innocent. “What’s so awful, birdie?”

Qrow’s expression and tone grew deadpan. “I suddenly regret saving your life. You’re not seriously gonna keep using that, are you?”

While Qrow couldn’t see Clover, he could feel Clover’s heat radiating off of him stronger than he had ever felt it before. While he could only take a guess as to where Clover was, a whisper against his left ear put any doubt to bed.

“I think you know. After all, you know us Atlesians hardly make secrets out of anything, birdie.”

#fair game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #clover ebi #rwby

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joeycupcakerichter · 3 years

Text

A letter he'll never read.

This is just going to be a incoherent mess of thoughts that I need to get out of my skull because otherwise they're going to drown me. so I'm gonna throw it under a read more and post it here so the thought can be out of my head and I can go back and reread whenever I start to feel like I'm losing control again.

Dear [him]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I've probably seemed obsessive and weird and I wish I could stop but I think writing this down, explaining it even though I know you'll never read it will help me process the feelings and move on.

I'm sorry it had to be you. I'm sorry that you were the one that caught me on a bad day and made me smile. I read too much into it. If I've ever made you uncomfortable in anyway, I'm so deeply sorry. There's some things that I think you need to understand about me that I think will help the two of us make sense of this and move forward.

My marriage was one built on trauma and distress. I was married to a man that loved the idea of me, not the person I truly was. He spent six years trying to shove me into a box that I didn't fit into, trying to make me into the girl he always wanted when he simply was not. It may sound ungrateful to say, but I was drowning in his attention but you have to understand that this was not the kind of attention anyone deserves. It was manipulative, it was guilt tripping, it was toxic in every sense of the word. He hated the things I loved and if he didn't start off initially hating them, he would quickly begin to hate them because they were associated with me. I know you're probably wondering what that has to with you and I promise I'm getting to it

The earliest date I have to tell you when this started was February 4, 2019. Yeah, you heard me right, two fucking years of this nightmare coping mechanism that you didn't ask to be a part of. February 4th was the day I created a playlist on Spotify because I was going to go to the gym. The first song on that playlist was Rev 22:20 by Puscifer because that's the song that every time I hear it, I think of you. The beginning of the song is enough to explain what I was feeling in that time.

Don't be aroused by my confession Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption I know Christ is comin', and so am I And you would too if this sexy devil caught your eye

I wanted you so badly. You represented everything that my current relationship lacked. You would give me attention, but only if I earned it. I was married at the time, so confessing my attraction to you would be something that you would have to not care if it sent you to hell. It was stupid, and I kept my mouth shut about it. I wasn't about to have an affair with you. I know I was already emotionally cheating on my husband, but I was not going to take the next step. I would just cling to this concoction of you I'd made in my head to cope with the misery that I was forcing myself to live with. It wasn't healthy and it DEFINITELY wasn't fair to you. You didn't ask to have someone develop an infatuation with you that you didn't want. I did my best to be cool and remember who the fuck I was but I know you knew. I deluded myself into thinking that you were interested, even if you couldn't pursue it. I think that made it worse.

Your trip and the jokes we made about it truly cemented this stupid ass infatuation into my brain. The thought of running away from my life with you haunted my dreams. In fact, there was one dream that I had that I still distinctly remember that plays in my head on repeat every now and then. We were at a party, you pulled me into the pantry and we were talking and you looked at me, confused, and said, "You know I like you, right?" I woke up immediately after, confused and with my heart pounding. This came shortly after you told me that your friend had backed out of the trip and you had an extra ticket, if I just got my passport. I didn't, of course, but I remember you telling me that I could sit next to you on the plane and rub your back as you puked into your airplane bag because you were afraid to fly.

I'm terrified that I sound insane and creepy and unsettling. I KNOW you were just kidding around but it was something I could cling to. It kept me alive when I was laying in bed staring out of my window wishing I had to courage to just jump. That was a lot to put on you but I comforted myself by reminding myself that you would never know. I would never ever cross the line of telling you how much that stupid little joke meant to me. You'll probably never know this, but you saved my life. And for that I can only thank you.

I'll never forget when you left, either.

I channeled the confusing feeling of loss and pain into a story that I'm still incredibly proud of. I won't bore you (or creep you out) with details, but you left two months after your trip and I did nothing but write. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote that pain away until I couldn't feel it anymore. It was gone. I fixed it all. I was fine. I barely thought about you. That initial hyperfixation was gone. You were gone.

Until you weren't.

A mutual friend told me that you were coming back and I thought my heart was going to erupt. That was when I stopped writing my story because I didn't need it anymore. You were coming back. I tried to remain casual, but that December when you were finally back, I could've wept with joy. It was sad, it was pathetic but you were back and everything was going to be fine. I had my coping mechanism back. We both know I can't help but look at you when you're near by. Even just a glimpse could make me smile. You were so soothing to me. You still are. It's illogical and it doesn't make sense, but whenever I talk to you, or even just see you I am simultaneously relieved and set on edge. I have to watch myself. I don't want you to know this creepy stalker narrative I'd unintentionally crafted. It wasn't even stalkery.

I didn't cross lines, I just wanted to talk to you, be around you somewhere that was an even playing field. I've only texted you when I absolutely had to. I couldn't bring myself to bother you. I put you up on a pedestal and didn't ask you for anything more. I wanted more, I craved that sweet validation but I wouldn't cross that line. We were work friends, if you could even call it that. We were coworkers that sat together on break all the time. Sometimes I would feel like maybe you could be interested but I would always reminded myself that just because I wanted you to be, didn't mean you were. I constantly kept myself in check. I barely even mentioned you to my friends and even when I did, you were the mediocre white guy at work. Hell, I still refer to you as that because I need to keep myself in check. You are not the end all be all of men. Believe me, I would let myself believe that if I didn't keep myself in check.

When the pandemic hit, you were gone again. I thought it was forever this time and I decided it would be okay. It had to be okay. I wasn't going back to work if you weren't going to be there and by all logic, you shouldn't have been. You were the reason I didn't hate my job. I liked talking to you for fifteen minutes at a time that much. It's silly, but it made everything better. I didn't need to date you. I didn't need to sleep with you. I just wanted you to be my friend and you had been. I thought that chapter was closed.

And then my husband left me. And I found out you were back again. Despite everything I'd figured, that you wouldn't go back for a third time, that you wouldn't even be able to, another mutual friend mentioned that you were back. And I was ready to run back into that hellhole's hateful arms to have you close and as my friend again. I couldn't talk to you outside of work, I didn't know what to say. I was scared it was going to come out wrong because things were different now. I was different now. I wasn't going to be married for much longer. I let myself stray into thinking maybe now could be different.

You gave my husband an instrument to fix and he left it and me here so I figured I could give it back to you, at the very least. I was gonna shoot my shot. "of course I remember you". Now I'm not sure if that was as flattering as I initially took it but you forgot and I cried. But I left you alone. If you had any of the same feelings I had, you wouldn't have. It was okay. You didn't have to match my energy. Mine was out of control and emotional, coming only a week after my husband left the state. I was a train wreck and I'm glad now that you didn't come pick it up. I would've embarrassed myself. I would've tried to tell you all of this to your face and it would've been a mess. It wasn't fair to you. It wasn't fair to me. I was in mourning, I was in shock. Just like most of the people I knew, you probably wouldn't have known what to say. What do you say to a woman who had been abandoned so easily and quickly? Awkward pity in my experience with people who weren't you. But I told you. You knew. That's all I wanted.

And now, I'm terrified that I'm becoming FAR too obvious. I wasn't subtle before, but I KNOW I'm not subtle now. I'm terrified of making you uncomfortable, or even worse, acting like Mandee. Becoming so overbearing and not picking up on vital social cues that would tell me that you didn't want me around. Every now and then, I'll forego sitting outside to sit with you but I won't do it every break. I don't want to seem like I won't leave you alone. I don't want to seem like a crazy woman who's obsessed with you. Maybe I still am, despite my best intentions, but I try so hard not to be. You don't owe me ANYTHING. And sometimes I get the vibes that I need to leave you alone so I do. And I resign myself to the fact that I ruined it because I couldn't keep my shit together.

My standards are so low right now, that you can talk to me first and I feel like maybe we could still be friends. Not a damn thing more than that. I can't stress that enough. Despite everything I've written here, it's not like I want you to sweep me off my feet and save me from everything. I just.... I want to be your friend. I want to actually know you other than anecdotal conversations.

I don't know how to finish this. It's pathetic, its cathartic and I just needed to get it out of me. I'm so tired of keeping it in and while I won't tell you, just writing it down helps. So thank you. Thank you for everything you don't know you've done for me. I'm sorry I let it go this far and get this... weird. Thank you again.

#nova trauma dumps #nova speaks #nova rants #tw: suicide mention #tw: suicidal ideation #ask to tag #if you were wondering where I get my Ted from this should give you a good idea #goddamn I wrote a lot about something that doesn't even matter #personal

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