# OUTCAST ! LOAK SULLY X FEMALE! HUMAN READER, WRITTEN
introduction master list request list
# WARNINGS: SORTA SPOILERS. use of y/n. kiri & spider not being together. spider & reader are siblings. lowercase intended. quaritch only caring about one child. reader wears a mask. second person pov. jealous! reader. (lmk if i missed anything) ‘neglected’ reader. discrimination against human reader. not proof read, english is not my first language. possible misspellings or grammar mistakes. bad summary.
# SUMMARY: you are miles socorro’s twin sister, while your brother is the louder, more recognized twin, you are the quiet and reserved twin. you have always grown up to keep to yourself and you thought no one noticed or cared for you.. until loak proved you wrong.
# AUTHOR’S NOTE: my second request, thank you so much! kind of added my own twist to the request, in which making them siblings (miles & y/n) , even though only spider is kidnapped. this is a rushed post sorry guys, i’m about to take a nap so if there’s any mistakes i’ll fix them when i wake up!
you and spider were twins, which was a fun fact that people always seemed to forget. maybe because you were so different—he was loud, confident, always pushing his way into the center of things. you were quieter, easier to overlook. but you were still twins, still connected in that weird way that twins are, even when you wanted to strangle each other.
when the rda came back and everything went to shit, you were both there. you'd been living with the sullys in the forest, part of the family but also not really, existing in that weird liminal space that human kids occupied on pandora. and then spider got kidnapped.
you watched it happen. watched the recoms grab him, watched him struggle and fight and disappear into their ship. you tried to go after him—jake had to physically hold you back, his na'vi strength way too much for you to break free from.
"we'll get him back," jake had promised, but his voice was tight with something that sounded like doubt.
except they didn't get him back. not right away. and when jake made the decision to leave, to take his family to the reef and hide from quaritch, he brought you with them.
"i'm not leaving you here alone," he'd said, and that was that. you were pretty sure it was guilt—guilt over losing spider, guilt over not being able to protect both of you. but you went anyway, because what else were you going to do?
the metkayina weren't thrilled about any of you. tonowari looked at jake like he was bringing trouble to their doorstep (which, fair). ronal looked at you and neytiri like you were both things she'd rather throw back into the ocean. but they let you stay.
"she is a demon," ronal had said, pointing at you with the kind of disdain usually reserved for week-old fish. "she does not belong here."
"she's a child," jake said firmly. "and she stays with us."
neytiri hadn't said anything. she'd just looked at you with those eyes that used to be warm and were now cold as ice. you didn't blame her. you caused them to be outcasted even more.
learning the way of water was hard. harder than it should've been, because you had to do everything with the mask on, which meant you couldn't dive as deep or stay under as long. tsireya was patient, though. she taught you and the sully kids how to hold your breath, how to swim properly, how to bond with the ilus.
and that's when you started noticing her and lo'ak.
they were always together. she was always smiling at him, touching his hand to correct his signing, laughing when he did something stupid (which was often). and lo'ak—lo'ak looked at her like she hung the moon.
you told yourself it was fine. it made sense. she was beautiful and kind and na'vi. you were human and awkward and still struggling to ride an ilu without falling off. of course he'd like her.
but it still hurt.
"you're doing that thing again," kiri said one day, floating next to you in the water. "the broody staring thing."
"i don't brood," you muttered.
"you literally haven't blinked in like two minutes. you're watching lo'ak and tsireya like you're planning a murder-suicide."
"i'm not—" you sighed, letting yourself sink a little lower in the water. "it doesn't matter. he likes her. she likes him. i'm just the weird human girl who can't even breathe the air."
kiri was quiet for a moment, treading water beside you. "you know lo'ak is an idiot, right? like, genuinely stupid when it comes to feelings."
"gee, thanks, that makes me feel so much better."
"i'm serious. he thinks you hate him."
you turned to stare at her. "what? why would he think that?"
"because you avoid him like he has a contagious disease? because you barely talk to him anymore?" kiri raised an eyebrow. "you used to hang out all the time back in the forest. now you act like being near him physically pains you."
"that's because it does," you admitted quietly. "not because i hate him. because i—" you stopped, feeling your face heat up behind the mask. "never mind."
kiri's expression softened. "oh. oh. you like him."
"can we please not talk about this?"
"we're absolutely talking about this." kiri grabbed your arm, pulling you toward the shore. "come on. we're fixing this."
"kiri, no—"
but kiri was surprisingly strong for someone who looked like she survived on vibes, and you were dragged to the beach where tuk was building something out of sand and shells.
"tuk," kiri said seriously. "we have a mission."
tuk looked up, eyes bright. "a secret mission?"
"the most secret. we need to get lo'ak and y/n to actually talk to each other like normal people."
"ooh!" tuk clapped her hands. "like how mom and dad fell in love!"
"exactly like that but with less war and death, hopefully."
"i'm right here," you said flatly. "and i can hear you. and this is a terrible idea."
"all the best ideas are terrible," kiri said cheerfully. "that's how you know they'll work."
honestly, you should've known the sully sisters would be chaos incarnate when they teamed up.
their "plan" involved tuk very loudly announcing at dinner that night that she needed help finding a special shell for her collection, and could lo'ak and y/n please go look for it together because everyone else was busy?
it was the least subtle thing you'd ever witnessed.
jake looked confused. neytiri looked suspicious. lo'ak looked like he'd just been told to swim with an akula. and you wanted to sink through the floor.
"uh," lo'ak said eloquently. "sure?"
which is how you ended up walking along the beach at sunset with lo'ak, both of you painfully aware that this was a setup and neither of you willing to acknowledge it.
"so," lo'ak said after five minutes of agonizing silence. "shells."
"yep. shells."
"tuk really likes shells."
"she really does."
more silence. you wanted to scream.
"look," lo'ak said finally, stopping to face you. "did i do something? to make you mad or whatever? because you've been avoiding me for weeks and i don't know what i did wrong."
you blinked at him. "you didn't do anything wrong."
"then why won't you talk to me anymore? we used to—i mean, back in the forest, we were friends. and now you look at me like you're trying to figure out how to escape whatever room i'm in."
guilt crashed over you in a wave. harder than the actual waves you’ve been hit by. "lo'ak, no. that's not—i'm not trying to avoid you because i'm mad at you."
"then why?"
you looked down at the sand, at the way the bioluminescent waves were starting to glow as the sun dipped below the horizon. "because it's easier than watching you with tsireya and pretending it doesn't bother me."
the silence that followed was so heavy you could've drowned in it.
"wait," lo'ak said slowly. "you're jealous? of tsireya?"
"i'm not—okay, yes. fine. i'm jealous." you forced yourself to look at him. "she's perfect, lo'ak. she's na'vi, she belongs here, she can actually breathe without a stupid mask. and she's nice and pretty and you look at her like—" your voice cracked. "like how i wish you'd look at me."
lo'ak stared at you like you'd just grown a second head. "are you insane?"
"excuse me?"
"y/n, i don't like tsireya. she's great, but she's like—she's like a teacher. or a nice older sister or something. i don't like her like that."
"but you're always together—"
"because she's teaching me! because i'm the idiot who can't swim or sign or do literally anything right!" he ran a hand through his braids, looking frustrated. "and you—you've been avoiding me, and i thought it was because you finally realized what everyone else knows. that i'm the screw-up. the disappointing son. the one who got his brother killed—"
"lo'ak, stop." you grabbed his arm without thinking. "neteyam's death wasn't your fault. and you're not a screw-up. you're brave and loyal and you care so much about everyone even when they don't deserve it. you're—" you took a shaky breath. "you're kind of amazing, actually. which is really inconvenient for me because i've been trying really hard not to like you."
his ears perked up. "trying not to like me?"
"i'm human, lo'ak. your mom already hates humans because of what happened to neteyam. and i'm not even—i can't breathe here without this thing—" you tapped your mask. "spider got his whole wish granted, he can breathe now because of kiri's magic plant stuff. but i'm still stuck like this. i don't belong with your family. i don't belong anywhere."
"that's bullshit," lo'ak said firmly. "my dad was human once. spider's human—well, was fully human. you're part of this family just as much as anyone else."
"your mom doesn't think so."
"my mom is dealing with a lot of grief and anger, and yeah, she's taking it out on the wrong people sometimes. but she'll come around. and even if she doesn't—" he stepped closer. "even if she doesn't, i don't care. i like you. i've liked you since we were kids and you punched that one kid for making fun of my hands."
you couldn't help but laugh. "he deserved it. your hands are perfect."
"see, this is what i'm talking about. you get it. you get me." his expression softened. "and for the record? i think your mask is kind of cute. like a little cage for your head."
"oh my god, that's the worst compliment i've ever received."
"i'm bad at this!" he laughed, and the sound made your chest feel warm. "i'm trying to tell you that i don't care about the mask or the human thing or any of it. i just care about you."
you felt tears starting to well up, which was annoying because crying in a mask was uncomfortable and also you didn't want to be that person. "lo'ak..."
"we're both outcasts," he said quietly. "we're both the ones who don't quite fit. so maybe we fit together, you know?"
before you could overthink it, you reached up and pulled him down—he had to crouch quite a bit, because na'vi were ridiculously tall—and pressed your mask against his forehead in the closest approximation of a kiss you could manage.
"this is really awkward," you whispered.
"yeah," he agreed, but he was grinning so wide you could see all his teeth. "but we'll figure it out."
and then, because the universe had perfect timing, tuk's voice rang out across the beach: "i found them! they're kissing! kiri, your plan worked!"
you pulled back to see the entire sully family standing there. jake looked amused. kiri looked smug. tuk was literally jumping up and down. and neytiri—
neytiri's expression was complicated. not quite angry, but not happy either. she looked at you for a long moment, then at lo'ak, then back to you.
"if you hurt my son," she said carefully, "mask or no mask, i will feed you to a akula."
it wasn't acceptance. but it wasn't complete rejection either. it was something.
"yes ma'am," you managed.
jake cleared his throat. "well, this is... unexpected. but nice? yeah. nice." he looked at neytiri. "right?"
neytiri sighed deeply. "my son chooses a human. of course he does. he is exactly like his father."
"is that a yes?" lo'ak asked hopefully.
"it is a 'we will discuss this later and if she makes you happy then i will try.'" neytiri's expression softened just slightly. "your brother would loved this. he always said she had a strong heart."
and that—that broke something open in your chest. because neteyam had been kind to you, in the quiet way he was kind to everyone. and knowing that he'd thought that about you, even when you felt invisible—
you were definitely crying now.
"okay, this is getting too emotional," kiri announced. "can we go eat? i'm starving."
"you're always starving," lo'ak said, but he was still holding your hand.
"lunch only goes so far, baby brother."
as the family started heading back toward the village, lo'ak tugged you back for a moment.
"hey," he said softly. "we're gonna figure this out. all of it. the mask thing, the family thing, everything. together."
"together," you repeated, and for the first time since spider got taken, since you came to this reef, since everything went wrong—you actually believed things might be okay.
you were still an outcast. he was still the "disappointing" son. you still didn't quite fit anywhere.
but maybe that was the point. maybe you didn't need to fit. maybe you just needed each other.
(and if tsireya gave you a knowing smile the next day during lessons, and if rotxo made gagging noises whenever you and lo'ak held hands, and if aonung looked personally offended that his sister's student was dating a human—well. that was just part of the deal.)
later, after everything with the ash people and the war and ronal's death and all the trauma that would take years to unpack, spider finally came back. and the first thing he said when he saw you and lo'ak together was: "seriously? i get kidnapped and experimented on and you use that time to get a boyfriend?"
"i missed you too, brother," you said dryly.
"yeah, yeah. i missed you too." he pulled you into a hug, mask clinking against mask. "but we're gonna have a long talk about your taste in men."
"your best friend is literally a na'vi," lo'ak pointed out.
"exactly. i know what i'm talking about. you guys are all crazy."
and despite everything—despite the war and the loss and the grief and the uncertainty—you laughed. because you had your twin back, you had lo'ak, you had this weird chaotic family that didn't always know what to do with you but kept you anyway.
you still didn't quite belong. but maybe belonging was overrated anyway.
the end <3 i genuinely loved writing this so please please request more !! i'm posting another request soon possibly tomorrow or later this week :))
Starlight Princess | A Star Wars Fanfiction Masterlist
Poe Dameron x Solo! Reader
What if Leia Organa’s daughter survived the fall of the Jedi Temple?
In Starlight Princess, you are the twin flame of the Force, daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo, sister of Ben Solo, and Poe Dameron's unexpected partner in rebellion and heart.
This reimagining of the sequel trilogy blends canon with new emotional arcs, political stakes, and romance, with a slow-burn Poe x Reader relationship and a deeper redemption arc for Ben Solo.
Series Info:
Title: Starlight Princess
POV: Second-person (You x Poe Dameron)
Genre: Action, Romance, Drama, Force lore, Canon Divergence
Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, emotional trauma, pregnancy, slow-burn, Force visions
Summary: It’s one thing to get killed by a classmate you barely knew.
It’s another to wake up in a parallel universe where you’re dating said killer.
Now you had to figure out how to fake your way through this relationship long enough to ghost your homicidal superhero boyfriend for good.
A/N: Pictures by @/henzuu
Prologue
You were neither the childhood best friend turned love interest nor the villain with the tragic back story.
There was simply nothing remarkable or distinctive about you.
You were a background character. The one who showed up in a few scenes when the writers needed to fill space. Maybe the one who gets a speaking line or two, but no more than that.
And you were fine with it. Being so thoroughly unimportant had its own perks, after all. No messy love triangles, no world that relies on you to be saved, and most importantly, no situations that involve fighting for your very own life.
Your dream was simple: finish high school, get into a decent college, meet a cute guy, and get married. Probably the most all-American fantasy someone could have.
What did set you apart was your sharp mind. That’s what you were known for. You noticed things. You survived high school that way. But no matter how many times you replayed that day in your head, nothing could have prepared you for the explosion that tore through the roof of your classroom. Nothing could have prepared you to lie crushed beneath the rubble, paralyzed by stinging pain and the fear that shook your whole body.
But the real anomaly came after — seeing someone so painfully familiar hovering above the broken bodies of you and your classmates just before he delivered the final blow.
In the seconds between the blast and your death, all you could do was stare at the black hair spilling from the edge of a yellow mask, the straight bridge of the nose, the upturned tip, the sharp jaw clench. The image burned itself into your mind, and just before everything went dark, all you could think about was Mark Grayson.
That name echoed in your head, even as you jolted awake, yelping in pain. Your mind was foggy, your skin damp with sweat, and once your breathing slowed to something close to steady, the scene replayed. Again and again.
A dream?
No.
It felt too real.
You remembered the crushing weight of the rubble pinning down your lower half, the way your limbs wouldn’t move no matter how much you tried. It definitely wasn't a trick of your mind, a fantasy that your brain came up with out of nowhere. It was like it had happened just seconds ago.
But as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you started noticing the first fractures in reality. The duvet cover. A pale beige with thin, green stripes. But hadn't you changed it to a pink floral one just three nights ago?
Then the carpet.
Grey.
Nothing like the soft blue rug you’d begged your mom to get.
It was only then that something deep in the pit of your stomach twisted so uncomfortably that you could no longer ignore it. You quickly sat up and looked down at yourself and saw a mismatched pajama set, green and pink, unfamiliar and ugly in the dim light. You’d never worn them before.
And then came the final sign: your mom bursted into the room, asking what was wrong — the same concerned tone, the same warmth in her eyes you were used to. But her hair. It was a completely different color, a completely different cut. Much shorter. And darker.
That’s when it hit you.
You weren’t dead.
But you hadn’t just dreamed, either. You’d pinched yourself more times than you could count. The sounds, the light, the weight of the blankets… all real. But whatever this was, it wasn’t your life. It wasn’t your world.
You should’ve panicked. But after what you saw, what you experienced in that demolished classroom all you could think about was survival. You didn’t know how or why, but something or someone had given you another shot at life.
And you sure as hell weren’t going to die at the hands of Mark Grayson again.
...because muscle mommy x chubby will always be one of my fav tropes (self insert much?)
This part is kinda boring because it's the first meeting, I kinda needed a reason to introduce malevola and the reader into a gym setting, you'll see why in the next parts when it's semi-nsfw/nsfw (◔‿◔)
Ugh, she's so fine. Just look at her (๑♡⌓♡๑)
The office at the SDN building seems to be almost empty, with many employees already gone home for the night.
You seem to be one of the few dispatchers who stayed late. Well, to be precise, it's only you and Robert here in this dark office. Ever since Chase got Blonde blazers amulet and works as a hero, you took his computer right next to Robert for the time being.
It's not like you don't have your own desk, it's in the row in front of Robert- usually. But since Chase isn't active as a dispatcher anymore, why not stay close to your buddy?
"Why are you still here?" you ask Robert while looking at him over the thin wall separating your desk from his, with your elbow resting on top.
"I don't have anywhere else to be." he responds in his usual monotone voice, his tired and baggy eyes staring up at you.
"That's fair." you walk over the separating wall to kneel down and give Beef gentle little pats on his head. He enjoys your attention and plops down onto his side, offering you his round belly. Of course you accept the offer gratefully and give him tummy scrubs.
"What about you?" Robert asks in return, with his lips curling up into a faint smile at the sight of his dog. You simply answer back with his own response: "I don't have anywhere else to be."
Beef rolls out his tongue, seemingly in heaven at your gentle attention. But you have places to be, so you reluctantly pull back.
"I'm heading to the gym." being a SDN dispatcher has its perks, like a free gym in the building anyone employed can use. You grab your backpack and throw it around your shoulders.
"Working on that summer bod?" Roberts scoffs in amusement, which makes you throw a crumbled up paper at him- which he catches in the air, that was laying useless on your desk.
"I already have a summer bod, just trying to level up a bit." you wave him off while making your way towards the gym. At this hour, nobody else would be using it, right?
Wrong. As soon as you walk closer to the door, you can hear the usual sounds of someone using the machines.
Great, here you thought you'd have the whole gym to yourself. It's always calmer and easier to have no prying eyes staring or judging...
Your legs stand still right in front of the door and you only stare for a while, complementing the pros and cons of facing your boundaries to work out with someone else present or just going home. It was a habit to come over here and work out late in the evening, until now nobody was here at the same time as you.
Gathering your strength, you choose the latter, because somehow a person has to grow , right? It always starts in small steps like this.
please don't look at me, please don't look at me, please don't look at me goes through your mind as you slowly push the doors open. Your eyes need a second to adjust to the lighter environment compared to the office, before you catch a taller silhouette in red using the pullup bar.
It's one of the heroes (used to be villains) from Robert's team. The z-team? or something, you've only heard some things from Robert when you two had a break and gossiped.
The taller woman doesn't seem to acknowledge you at first, focusing on pulling herself upwards and then downwards with ease, as if she weighed nothing.
Your eyes can only stare in awe at how her muscles in her arms- especially her biceps flex with each slow and controlled pull up. It's obvious she's fit, not just because of her muscles but also at her calm workout. She has a lot of body control that makes you feel just a bit jealous. You feel out of place now.
But you don't let your negativity get the best of you and walk into the gym, your feet already taking you to the Treadmill. Since your focus is losing weight, putting on muscles isn't really in your program. For the time being, at least.
You shoot a few quick and (not so) subtle glances towards the women, feeling a bit uneasy with a nonchalant giantess acting as if you don't exist, but at the same time it's what your anxious mind wanted. To be in your own space without prying eyes.
So, you place your backpack against the wall and take off the first layer of clothes. It's colder outside these days, so whenever you plan on going to the gym, you wear your gym-wear underneath the actual clothes. Stripping off of your jeans and sweater, you're finally ready!
Now in your tight leggings and sports jacket that hug your softer curves (you decide to ignore your insecure thoughts for now...), you start the treadmill on a low setting, a slow jog, to warm up.
For the whole time, even when you look straight ahead of you as you walk, you cannot ignore the feeling of the only women- aside from you, glaring into your soul. Or rather your running body.
You dare a side glance at the tall woman and notice how her tail sways left and right in slow and gentle rhythm, something so opposite to her rather intimating appearance. It's kinda cute.
That's when she finally meets your gaze too, her eyes have no pupils but you can still feel her heavy gaze on you.
Although she doesn't seem mad, a faint shiver runs down your spine. Because what if you just angered her?
Your thoughts are proofed wrong when she just seems to...observe you. With surprisingly curious eyes, instead of annoyed or angry. At the same time, she does one last pull up before her feet meet the ground with a soft thud.
"It's rude to stare." she breaks the silence between you two, while leaning against the machine with her arms crossed over her chest. Her voice indicates no sign of anger but she does seem annoyed.
"I didn't...mean to." your voice is a bit breathless, your warming up luckily is efficient, preparing your body slowly into the mood for a more intense cardio soon. "...you've been staring at me the whole time??" you add, your brows furrowed in frustration as the devil- or whoever she is, puts the blame on you.
This brings out a dismissive scoff from her lips, with her hand simultaneously reaching out for a 40kg dumbbell. "Really? That's all you have to say after eyeing me up?" This time the tone of her voice suggests... curiosity? Interest? whatever it is, you don't dare think too much of it and just continue your jog.
"I wasn't eyeing you up! I'm trying to workout here..." you defend yourself weakly. Your voice is not so sure as before, probably because she has a valid point. You were eyeing her up. Checking her out, mostly. Admiring her strength and muscles...it's a dream body far away for you.
"You should focus on running in intervals." her voice is controlled and not at all strained, even as she pulls up the heavy dumbbell for a biceps curl. With ease, again. Nobody asked for her advice but yet she just gives it out for free. Or perhaps your miserable self in the gym was a lost cause and she's trying to help your pathetic ass out.
"For what?" your finger presses the button on the treadmill to lower the speed, talking while jogging is getting you out of breath too fast. So switching to a faster walking pace, it is. This time, you can focus on admiring her tensing biceps too.
"To lose weight. Isn't that why you're here?" she assumes, and that assumption feels like a kick to your heart.
"So you're assuming that because of how I look?" Look at those horns of hers, being a devil suits her. Personality wise, at least. Your judgement is far stretched, but you feel personally attacked, it's only fair!
"...not in a judgmental way." she seats her tall frame down on the bench press seat. Her arm slowly curls upwards with the dumbbell, then holds the weight for a few seconds in the air before slowly releasing tension and easing back down.
All the while as she sits with her legs spread, elbow resting on her knee and her eyes locked against you.
"what are you? Satan? is that your power?" you're offended and it's obvious in your voice, defensive and shielding. Although your eyes are busy checking out her thighs, so full and strong- and her abs are so defined that the outline of her muscles are see-through even with her white tank top body covering most of her torso...
"Right now, I'm the little angel on your shoulder, trying to help a girl out." she appears to be amused by your offence. You can see the grin on her face while she puts the dumbbell down and walks over to you.
Right, an angel. All red and with horns. Makes sense. So rude for nothing- wait, is she coming over?! your judging thoughts turn to tension real quick, it's hard to read her intentions, especially since she used to be a literal villain. But she wouldn't just do something to you, right?? you hope so, at least.
Your dramatic and anxious mind was just plotting with the real deal, she simply came over to stand beside the treadmill you're on, like a trainer criticizing her students work. She even has the typical dad stance- her hands on her hips with her eyes following the movement of your feet.
"Ever heard of 'High-Intensity Interval Training'?" she asks you and doesn't even give you a chance to explain yourself. She simply reaches out to press the buttons on the treadmill, turning the speed all the way down to a simple walk pace.
"Hey, what are you-" she cuts you off right there, not even listening to you as she continues. Your feet have to follow the pace she set, which makes you able to catch your breath now, after the jog before.
"For beginners like you, you should focus on walking for a few minutes first." her hand pulls back from the buttons, now she walks around the treadmill and observes you. Your cheeks heat up at being given this much attention from someone, but as a lost cause in topics of gym and losing weight, you take any advice you can get. Even from demons.
For a few minutes, it falls silent and she just watches you as you walk on the low setting. Her eyes bore into every angle of you and usually you'd call anyone off who might come this close to you- maybe it's because of your insecurity of being seen, or the fact that this half-demon used to be a villain and you don't know her at all.
"Now that you're warmed up, a nice little jog." she nods towards the buttons, which makes your own hand reach out in response and follow her lead. "Not too fast. A comfortable jog." she adds and you nod along, increasing the speed enough that you're jogging now.
"This is supposed to be better than running?" your voice is slowly growing breathless, but you try to keep your breathing under control and measured. You read somewhere that breathing is just as important as the workout itself. Makes sense.
So, a bit motivated now thanks to a supposedly kind demon's help, you keep yourself upright and make steady, long strides on the moving treadmill. Your arms sway alongside the movement of your legs, trying to picture up a good stance for your new observer.
"Certainly." her arms cross and rest on the side of the treadmill, the pole where the runners can hold onto. "it's about how long you keep up, not the speed." her yellow orbs watch your every move like a hawk- probably to find anything to criticize you about. Maybe your form or breathing is off?
Although she does seem to be rather helpful here, she could also be looking out for you. So a girl's girl, huh?
when your starting to ever so slightly gasp for air, her finger once again presses the button. To switch the speed to the walking pace you had before. A feeling of gratitude swells up inside you, to have someone not judging your low stamina but helping and adjusting the workout to your beginner needs. "Do you get it now?" her voice asks expecting, a faint grin on her face. She probably enjoys being right. Well, who doesn't?
"Uh-huh." you hum thankfully, with this switch between slow walking and slightly jogging, even your unfit body can keep up. Her lesson makes sense, you were always trying to run as fast as you can and go all in without proper thoughts about what might be effective for you. "Thanks. You're nice, for a demon."
This makes her scoff in delight, before she corrects you with "half-demon.", while turning around to focus on her own work out. You don't know if it was on purpose or intentional, when her thin tail brushes ever so softly against your lower back, all the way from the base to the tapered tip, almost seductively.
You glance at her for a while- with wonder, hoping deep down that you'll encounter this half-demon more often at the gym, the beautiful view of her muscles are surely a motivation to keep going your own gym journey, using her stunning physique as inspiration and also just to admire her sweaty skin.
She meets your gaze and makes you turn your head away like a prey caught in bright lights, as she states: "You're staring again." however this time, you find yourself grinning back in return to yourself, even if slightly.
You took her advice to heart and increase the speed of the treadmill once you've cooled down and caught your breath. A pleased smile on your face, your feet jogging just a bit more confident than before.
you learn early that being good at handling things means you get handed everything.
it starts small. a manager sighing and saying, you’re good with felix, right? a member knocking on your door instead of his. schedules quietly rearranged so you’re always the one near him when days go wrong.
felix never asks for it. that’s the worst part.
he’s curled in on himself on the practice room floor when you find him, hood up, knees pulled to his chest. music still hums softly from the speakers, abandoned halfway through a run. his eyes lift when you enter, relief flashing before he masks it with a smile that’s too quick, too practiced.
“sorry,” he says, automatically.
you sit beside him anyway. cross your legs. rest your hands in your lap so you don’t touch him unless he asks. you’ve learned that lesson the hard way.
“what happened?” you ask.
he shrugs. the movement is small, like even that costs him something.
“just tired.”
it’s always just tired. just stressed. just overthinking. words that smooth everything down until no one feels obligated to look closer.
except you do. every time.
later, when practice ends early and the others peel off one by one, they give you those looks. grateful. apologetic. relieved. someone says, “text us if he gets worse, yeah?” like they’re doing you a favor by leaving.
felix doesn’t notice. or maybe he does and pretends not to. he presses closer to you on the couch in the dorm, shoulder warm against yours, breathing shallow and uneven.
“they have stuff to do,” he murmurs, as if reading your thoughts.
you swallow. nod.
you want to ask when you get to have stuff to do.
nights are the hardest. when he wakes up shaking from dreams he won’t describe, when his accent thickens and his words tangle and he presses his forehead to your shoulder like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
you hold him. you always hold him.
and you don’t tell him how alone it makes you feel.
because loving felix means being reliable. steady. the one who doesn’t crack when he does. the one everyone trusts to carry him when he’s too heavy for himself.
one night, you overhear it by accident. hushed voices in the hallway. a member laughing quietly.
“it’s fine, y/n’s with him. they can handle it.”
handle it.
like he’s something to manage. like you’re built for this and nothing else.
you don’t go back inside right away. you stand there until the words settle somewhere ugly in your chest.
when you finally do, felix looks up from the couch, eyes soft.
“you okay?” he asks.
you nod again. you’re very good at nodding.
weeks pass like this. days blur. felix leans more, without meaning to. you grow quieter, without realizing it.
until one evening he reaches for you and you don’t move fast enough.
it’s barely a pause. a second too long.
but he notices.
“did i do something?” he asks, voice small, careful.
you open your mouth. close it. the truth feels too sharp to put in his hands.
no, you didn’t do anything. everyone else did.
instead you say, “i’m just tired.”
he freezes. the words sound different coming from you.
guilt floods his face, immediate and crushing. he pulls back like he’s been burned.
“i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time. “i didn’t mean to make it all… my problem.”
you reach for him then. too late.
it hits you at once: being chosen last didn’t just leave you alone.
it taught him he was something people got stuck with.
content: fluff, 2nd pov, slightly (?) longer fic, hands 😋, inspired by this tiktok (not george but same vibes 😌)
a/n: all i could say is thank you so much for the insane support. i honestly didn't anticipate that 'His Smile' would get any attention at all . anyways, if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
p.s. i'm sorry this took so long. work and med school are not in my favor this month 🤧 i also may or may not have procrastinated as well. so, for future parts, please expect it will take long — mostly because i work well without deadline or expectations XD
p.p.s sorry for any spelling or grammar errors. my dyslexia is not bloody cooperating. and apologies if it's not as good as the first one, i'm running a bit on fumes when writing this 🤧
Being a prefect has its advantages. For one, you get to scold annoying gits with no repurcussions — to an extent, of course! Two, you have access to the greatest bathroom there is in the castle. Three, you get the earliest gossip of anything happening in Hogwarts — student and faculty alike!
Then, there's the unfortunate disadvantages.
Not only have you been covering people's shift in night patrols — because you are too kind for your own good — now, your presence is demanded for a whole week to decorate the Great Hall and certain corridors of the castle for freaking Valentine's Day.
All because Professor Dumbledore seemed to have liked the ex-DADA Professor Lockhart's idea of puking pinks, reds, and whites 'to illuminate the gloomy halls of this school'. Headmaster's words, not yours.
But, alas, with how humongous this school is, the student manpower is at odds. The week is almost over and the Great Hall and corridors looked like they were being torn apart instead of being decorated. It seems magic can't do everything.
"We called for volunteers from each house," your Head Girl grins widely as she returned from her ultimate expedition of gathering 'reinforcements'.
You tilt your head to look at the 'volunteers' that thudded behind her.
None of them looked happy to be there.
Is what you wanted to say to her if your eyes hadn't locked in on one volunteer.
George Weasley.
Your friend, who seemed to have materialized beside you out of nowhere, elbows you. "Prince charming is here," your friend states with a knowing grin.
"Shut it," you sent her a warning glare as you rubbed the spot she hit.
Then, Hermione Granger, one of the Gryffindor prefects, grins at you as she pulls Harry and Ron from behind her which pulled a chain of tugging from the begrudging Gryffindor 'volunteers'.
You could even hear her scold Ron, saying things like 'Ron, you're a bloody prefect too. Stop being so difficult!'
From what you can deduce, Hermione had forced Ron — another Gryffindor prefect — to force Harry, his brothers, and their friends to aid the decorating team.
"I've gathered us most of Gryffindor's Quidditch players, they can do a lot of heavy-lifting tasks," Hermione turns to you. And for a moment, you forgot that you were the one leading the labor force of the decorating team as you stared at her, still slightly dumbfounded that George Weasley is here.
"Y-Yeah, sure," you cleared your throat as you nodded.
"Wait, aren't you the smile girl?" Fred's voice suddenly cuts through your dreamy haze that soon became embarrassment.
George elbows his grinning twin before turning to you. "Sorry 'bout him, love. He's a bit of a loony," he smiles softly as Fred huffs out an offended 'Hey!' beside him.
Love. That word nearly took you out.
"I-It's okay— Um, I need you to divide your group into three," you cleared your throat again, trying your best to gather your bearings and not embarrass yourself further in front of him.
"One will stay here in the Great Hall with me. The others will go to the corridors with Ernie and Padma, separately," you gestured at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefect beside you.
You watched as the group moves like an adorable, chaotic version of the boat is sinking. Some were even fighting to be in certain groups.
While you were too busy being amused at the chaos of red and gold, you failed to notice that a certain ginger boy had settled himself beside you.
"So, what are we going to do?" George asks with that troll-killing smile of his.
"Um— We're, uh—"
"Y/N's finishing up the paper garlands. But, there's still a lot to do — might need some help in there," your friend answers for you with that infuriating grin of theirs.
You don't know if you should thank her or strangle her.
"Alright. Lead the way, love," George — bless him — smiles softly at you as he extends his arm in gesture for you to, in fact, lead the way.
Your friend mouths 'Good luck' from behind you. You haphazardly mouthed a curse at her, and she just laughs at you.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Then, you fold it this way," you state as you looked over to your side, watching if George was doing it correctly. You nod in approval as he does.
"That was... complicated and easy at the same time. Weird," George grins, "and you improvised this because you find the one in the book to be too time consuming?" George watches you nod like it wasn't a big deal. It was.
"How brainy," George adds.
You playfully scrunched your nose at the awful attempt of a compliment. "You need to work your on your vocabulary," you chuckled.
"What? Like resplendent? I don't think my brains cut out for that level of braininess, love," George grins.
"I—" you flushed and turned to George, huffed through your nose with your lips pressed in a thin line and a look that says 'really? you just gotta go there, didn't you?'
"Sorry, sorry," George laughs, hands raised in appeasement, before returning to his paper garlands to finish up.
For a moment, the two of you sit comfortably together, folding paper garlands and exchanging light conversation. But, of course, in the midst of it, your eyes couldn't help but flicker towards him ever so often.
How could anyone blame you, really? For someone his age, his got hands for days.
Then, you watched him rolled his sleeves up, face frowned in concentration as he moves onto his next batch of garlands — and, Merlin help you — you think you might actually combust at how hot that was.
That's not all, see those long, prominent veins that wraps around his forearms? Ugh, absolute heart palpitations. Those long, slender, and calloused fingers of his from Quidditch practice and prototyping pranks — an absolute product of his hardwork? Yup, oxygen just left your lungs.
Oh, and if anybody asks how you know he practices more times than his teammates or how he tests his prank gadgets often? Well, let's just say a girl never reveals her secrets.
He's got the biggest hands you've seen in Hogwarts. You just know that anything he holds in them will be engulfed with warmth, and utterly protected. You'd be a total puddle if he ever wraps his hands on you.
Your eyes continued to follow his every move. Every time his finger slids on the paper to fold a crease, you wonder how it would feel to intertwined your hands together. Would his dwarf yours? Would it feel warm like a cozy fire or hot like a blazing furnace? Would yours and his fit like a puzzle piece waiting to meet? How would it feel to trace his veins up his arm? How—
"Ow!" you winced as the paper you had been absentmindly folding pricks you.
"You okay?" George frowns, eyebrows scrunching in worry as he takes your hand in his before you could blink.
"Y-Yeah, I'm okay, really...!" you chuckled nervously as his hands engulfed yours completely. Seriously, is that hand size normal??
George ignores you as he inspects the bit of blood the paper cut has drawn out of you, still having that frown on his face as if how dare the paper hurt you.
You hoped he doesn't hear how much your heart is hammering through your chest right now.
Then, he grabs something from his pocket and wraps a tiny bandaid around your finger with the utmost of care.
"I don't quite have the knack for healing spells. So, you'd have to settle for this one," George grins as he gently runs his thumb across the surface of the bandaid.
"Thank you, George," you smiled softly at him before returning to your garlands.
If you would have stared a little longer at him, you would have seen the blush that crept up on his cheeks. But, unfortunately, you only heard him clear his throat as he returns to his own garlands. You also don't notice how George himself had a paper cut a few minutes later, and had healed himself easily with a wordless spell.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Why not just use magic to hang these up?" George asked as he raised the finished garlands.
"My magic is in need of some practice when it comes to precise placement. And, I hate having these look crooked up there," you gestured at the walls where the garlands were supposed to go.
"Can you grab that for me?" you pointed at the ladder by the side, trapped and surrounded by boxes of decorating supplies and tools.
George nodded, already moving to grab it.
It was a simple request. A simple favor. So, why were you frozen in place, eyes tracing along his arms as you watched him criminally fold his sleeves for the second time today before bending down to carefully move the objects aside around the ladder so he could grab the very ladder you asked him to get?
It didn't help that you saw the way the muscles of his arm tense and contract so beautifully, so deliciously. It might be your imagination, but you feel like the veins on his forearm are going to pop if he moves more.
Honestly, could this man get anymore detrimental to your health?
"Here you go," George grins as he sets the ladder in front of you like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Thanks," you squeaked out and hurried to climb on it before he gets the chance to see how flustered you were by him simply moving a bloody ladder.
But in your hurry, the ladder wobbled and you felt yourself start to slip.
"Ah—"
But, then, a firm set of hands clasps on your waist to steady you.
"You okay, love?"
You felt yourself shiver when you felt his breath on your back through your shirt.
"Y-Yes. Thank you, George. You— uh, you can let go now." You squeaked out body stiffer than an effect from a Petrificous Totalus spell.
George only chuckles at you, "I'm not taking any chances, love."
Your hands tremble as you try to hang the bloody garlands while his hands remained on your waist. The warmth from them seeps into your skin through your top and makes you light in the head.
You did try to focus on your task at hand, but all you could think about is how big his hands felt on your waist. Your mind latches on how firm and grounded he feels, and you know for a fact that there is no chance of you slipping with him protecting you from behind.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Hours later, you finally got a breath out as you waved at the leaving crowd of volunteers while some of them waved back at you. And, yes, George was one of them.
"Saw you earlier — that was some strategical flirting. Color me impressed," Your friend grins as they emerged from beside you.
"I nearly cracked my skull open and the first thing you say to me is that? What a friend you are.'" I turned to her with an unimpressed look.
warnings: teasing, weird obsession with his teeth, quick mention of talking with a mouthful of food. that's it i think?
you can’t stop staring at your best friend. it’s ridiculous, really — he’s just sitting there, biting at a paper straw while scrolling on his phone. that’s it. nothing interesting. and yet you can’t look away.
“i can feel you staring,” malachi says without even looking up, that signature smirk creeping onto his face.
you blink, instantly defensive. “i’m not.”
“mhm,” he hums, finally glancing at you. “then what’s got your eyes glued to me like that?”
you stab your fork into the dessert on your plate a little too hard. “can’t a person think in peace?”
“sure,” he says, setting his phone down, leaning back in his chair with mock suspicion. “but thinking usually doesn’t burn holes through people’s faces.”
you squint at him. “you’re so dramatic.”
“specifics,” he says, crossing his arms. “what were you looking at?”
you tilt your head, pretending to think. “your teeth.”
his eyebrows shoot up. “my teeth?”
“yeah,” you say nonchalantly, though your face is already heating up. “they’re just… really nice? you’ve got good dentist energy.”
malachi laughs, loud and disbelieving. “good dentist energy? that’s what you’re going with?”
“yep. solid molars. perfect bite ratio,” you tease, finally cracking a smile.
he shakes his head, grinning. “you’re so weird.”
“takes one to know one,” you reply, shoving the rest of your dessert toward him. he steals your fork and takes a bite without hesitation.
“so… my teeth, huh?” he says with his mouth full, showing them off on purpose.
“ew, don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold, throwing a napkin at him.
“nah, i’m just trying to give you a better view,” he says, flashing his smile obnoxiously wide.
you groan, covering your face with your hands. “i take it back. your teeth are terrifying.”
“too late,” he says proudly. “you’re obsessed.”
you peek through your fingers. “you wish.”
malachi’s grin softens a little, and he leans forward on the table, elbows on the surface but his voice quieter now. “seriously though. that’s a weird compliment, but i’ll take it.”
you shrug, trying not to meet his eyes. “it’s not weird. people compliment smiles all the time.”
“yeah, but you didn’t say smile,” he teases, grinning wider. “you said teeth.”
you roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “shut up before i change my mind.”
“nope. too late,” he says again, leaning back smugly. “now i’m gonna smile extra big every time i see you. make you flustered.”
you grab the nearest thing — another crumpled napkin — and throw it at him. “i hate you.”
“nah, you love me,” he grins, catching it midair.
and as much as you want to argue, you just laugh instead, because yeah — maybe you kinda do.
malachibartonsangel speaks:
idk why but i acc love his teeth, they're so perfect and straight ;)
i just wrote this, it's like 1 am where i live, so please bare with me and my dyslexic ass, i might've missed something while proof reading :/
Summary: One evening, you decide to check on your friend from Discord on your way home. You then realize the consequences of your actions when your friend reveals himself as a demon eager to collect a Special Soul: You.
An extended version of this scene I did now on Archive of Our Own!
My first time doing a Reader fic at all, please bare with me. This is self-indulgence at its finest. I had fun with this after a friend from Discord enlightened me on why Baby Saja was popular and apparently, he was so stuck in my mind that I had to write this. Basically, Baby has a Discord and uses it to get a powerful soul/pet/toy/snack while committing atrocities.
I did not know how to rate this, but I put Teen because I felt besides the whole hypnotism and breaking the city, nothing explicit happens. If you need me to change anything please let me know.
I will also put the story under a read more here, but please check out the AO3 version as well. Thank you:
You liked your roleplaying partner on Discord. For weeks, the two of you have been chatting with similar interests: K-pop, spicy food, rap, and cozy long-sleeved outfits. From what you knew of BBSinsGM5, he claimed that he looked younger than he was. He and his brothers formed a band inspired by Ateez and Stray Kids. He lived somewhere far. When roleplaying, most of his characters were demons. You did not question it because you liked demons too, and if anything, thought that he had special interests like you do. You did not even ask why in one session, where he, as a demon, convinced you to make a deal with the demon king to serve under one of his faithful servants. You just assumed that he had a large imagination like you did. Regardless, you felt that after spending some time chatting, maybe you could be more than just online friends?
One evening, you had just come out from a long day of errands when you grabbed your phone, sat inside the city bus, and opened Discord to chat. Already, BBSinsGM5 sent you texts.
Yo, Pepper!
You smiled and blushed. Pepper was the nickname he gave you, a sweet and spicy person. You laughed and typed,
Hey, there~ How's your day?
Boring. Practice was way too long! You're the highlight of my day, Pepper~
You too. So tired from doing things like groceries and being an adult(tm). Can't wait to crash out at home. What about you?
I'm on a side quest for a special soul. The guys and I are exploring, and I just needed some time for myself, you know?
I hear you. Special soul? You mean those strong souls that you made up for our threads?
... yeah! Exactly.
Pretty cool stuff. Speaking of which, what kind of demon are you again? It's like this cool twist, and it's brand new to me.
I'm a reaper demon. Where I'm from, they are called Jeoseung Saja.
Saja, as in..?
You want a selfie?
You pulled your eyes away from the screen, gasping. You had never seen him before. His icon was a lion with a mane of fire. Curiosity got the better of you, and you texted yes. It took a moment or two before your friend sent his selfie, and you gaped with your eyes twitching.
In the picture, a man with a young face stood in the center of buildings that looked like toys. Teal hair. Golden eyes. Fuchsia skin with violet patterns that flower endlessly. A charming smile with sharp fangs in some places. He wore a black traditional-style outfit with boots and a hat to match. He leaned back in a pose as his free hand stood at the side of his face with his thumb up, mimicking drinking something. You watched too many TikToks not to recognize your friend.
In your mind, his smile sparkled, and an awestruck harmony played in your ear.
You dialed him immediately, and to your shock, a familiar deep voice answered. "'ellow?"
"Baby Saja of the Saja Boys?!"
"The one and only, babe~" Baby mused confidently. You stopped yourself from fainting in your seat. You were friends with one of the Saja Boys, a new K-pop band that spread all over the internet? It felt too good to be true.
"Wow, I can't believe it! I could with the popularity thing. Nice cosplay, by the way. Is it one of your demons?"
"Cosplay? What's that? This is my true form."
You chuckled at first, thinking that he was joking, until you heard the seriousness of his voice. He could not be a real one. You had thought he was roleplaying as a demon, not being one!
"Really? You're telling me that not only are you a celebrity, but that you're also a demon from down below? Is there any other mind-blowing secret I should know about?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention one little thing: I'm a bit tall at the moment."
Your face fell at the implications once you put two and two together.
"Please tell me those buildings and cars are models or that's the camera angle, right? Right?! How come your voice sounds normal then?"
Baby laughed. "You're funny! I'm filtering my voice for now. Gotta keep you on your toes~"
"What do you want?" You could not help but ask. If Baby were a demon, what plans did he have? Would he not do something already if he wanted you gone?
"I want you so much, Pepper. I need a treat and a special soul like you would hit the spot nicely. And I wanted to see you, face to face, since you amuse me."
"You... want to eat me?"
"Don't worry. I'm not stealing your soul or taking it as energy. I'm just gonna hold you there for a while. Maybe bring you back in the morning. You're safe for now. Besides, it's mine anyway."
"What? My soul? Since when?!"
"Don't you remember? You gave me your soul the last time."
"That was roleplay! You mean to tell me soul dealings can transfer through the internet?!"
"I know, right? It's crazy and it can't do everything, but it works! Now you belong to me~"
You gasped when you suddenly spotted patterns forming on your arms, a faint, purple glow before they disappeared. Baby continued.
"So, let's make it a game, shall we? Hide and seek? I'll come over and find you. If you manage to avoid me for a while, I'll owe you one, and you can have more control over being my snack. What do you say?"
You figured that Baby sounded in a good mood, you had some time to prepare, and you did not have a choice in the matter. You were human, and he was a demon capable of who knew what. Plus, he could pull you in with his words, and deep down, you had interests that tested your survival and instincts.
"Sure. This is so crazy... since I've never done this before, could you go easy on me?" Another laugh.
"Okay, for the first time, I'll make it fair by not sensing your soul directly. It's more fun that way. I'll even show you where I am. I need to practice singing anyway. See you soon!" With that, Baby hung up.
You sighed and collapsed in your seat, still reeling at the revelations one by one. You had a crush on a demon disguised as a K-pop idol who's currently a giant and wants to consume you? At least you had some sense of time to prepare... until you noticed the evening sky turning purple and a deep, smooth voice shaking the air.
"Lost in my spell, now, you can't look away. Don't you know I'm here to save you?"
You paled. Baby was in your city?! You turned to the nearest window. Outside, from a distance, Baby stood underneath a pink sunset, 50 feet tall. His eyes glistened as he licked his top fangs.
You trembled. You cannot make a run for it. It meant immediate capture if you did. Your best bet was to stay on the bus until you were close to home. The few people on the bus or the driver seemed not phased by the giant anyway.
Baby strolled down the streets, humming bars as he gracefully stomped. His footsteps shook the ground in a rhythmic beat. You would glance to see him take his time as if looking, but something told you it was an act. After twenty minutes, the bus stopped right where you needed it to be.
You briskly walked out of the bus, checked your surroundings, and booked it to your apartment, using dark alleyways for cover. The tremors got louder and closer.
"Where are you~?" He crooned playfully. You were about to dash across a street when you hid back in the alleyway once a shadow loomed over you. A giant boot stepped on an empty car in front of you, crushing it like a soda can. You covered your mouth so as not to make any noise.
Baby chuckled. "Don't deny it. I know you like this. You're an open book once you're comfy."
You resisted responding, not to call yourself out, and there was a difference between fantasy and reality. They blurred by this point. You waited until the boots and shadow left before running to your apartment building. Minutes felt like hours as you rushed into the elevator, got to your floor, burst into your apartment, and dove straight to your bed. You wrapped blankets around yourself and screamed into your pillow as you slapped your cheeks over and over.
"Wake up, wake up, wake up!"
"There you are~" You froze at the deep voice that shook your soul, uncovering your face. No, it could not be. You thought you got him off your trail. Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard the building creak. You sat up and saw a large golden eye taking up your bedroom window.
"You made me work up an appetite to find you, Pepper! You're lively for a small human, aren't you?" When he pulled back to give you a smug and sharp smirk, you blushed and slowly got out of bed, backing away slightly.
"Damn, it's like looking at one of those vending machines with all the tasty snacks, right? I wonder what I should pick. Maybe something sweet and spicy like you?" He pressed a claw to your window, gently giving it a few taps before he pointed to his open mouth, then traced his neck with the same finger, trailing it to his abdomen.
You trembled in fear and excitement, not knowing whether to run, hide, or give yourself up.
"Hmm, how to get you and everything you own, though? Wait, I can do this." As if to tease, Baby lowered his hand to three floors below you as he used his claw to cut out a window effortlessly. With a snap of his fingers, all of your belongings disappeared from your home in pink wisps. He then held out his hand and commanded, "Come to Baby."
Suddenly, you froze as your body tingled and your patterns appeared on your skin. Before you could speak, the patterns glowed a bright pink, and you levitated into the air. Your body flung away on its own, an invisible force pushing you out the door, into the hallway, down a few flights of stairs, then out through the opening he had made as you landed a bit roughly into his hand.
Baby grinned in satisfaction, watching the patterns disappear. "There we go, right where I want you." Using a free hand, he pressed it onto the building, his smile a little sinister.
"Tip~" A simple shove sent the building falling and crumbling to pieces. With a laugh, Baby carried you in his hand like a doll while you caught your breath. The way he swung his legs in a fluid yet deliberate motion made him destructive and still the same K-pop star you had seen in public. He stopped at another part of the city, sitting on one of the smaller buildings like a chair as he held you to eye-level with a mischievous grin.
"Now, what to do with a cute morsel like you~? I can't resist you, but you need something else." He glanced around, his eyes brightening at an idea. "I'll dress you up nice before I have you and put you to sleep. We could have more fun and talk tomorrow."
Finding what he was looking for, Baby reached the nearby building and clutched the roof with a free hand, slowly ripping it off. Your eyes widened as you watched him open up a clothing store like a dollhouse. The staff who were in there looked like dolls themselves, scared and confused... until Baby hummed.
"Good evening. I was wondering if my friend could have some fresh sleepwear? You can put it on my tab." He winked, and immediately, the staff blinked as if staring off into a trance, smiling happily in unison.
"Anything for you, Mr. Saja!"
As your eye twitched at the demonic tomfoolery taking place, you felt that something was broken here, but you did not know what.
Baby studied your form and expressions before he lowered you into the store.
"I'll let you dress yourself this time."
After some awkward moments, you ended up wearing an orange long-sleeved shirt and black pants with red chili peppers. Satisfied, Baby picked you back up to eye level. He used a free hand to touch his chest and mutter something ancient (You did make out the word "Gwi-Ma" for some reason) before he nodded.
"I had to make some adjustments, but I'm ready when you are."
You gave him an exhausted glare as if to say you did not have the mental capacity to ask the questions you wanted to ask, nor react appropriately. You did have the energy for one important detail.
"Are you sure I'd be safe? You're not going to absorb my soul for eternity?"
He laughed, "Of course, it's safe. You're too fun to harm that badly! And if I'm wrong, you have my permission to haunt me as a fellow demon or a soul of the damned. Now, come right in. It's time to go home."
Baby opened his mouth wide, revealing a violet tongue and a faint magenta pentagram. You squirmed a little in his grip, not wanting to risk becoming a sacrifice, but his grip was stronger, and your mind was starting to get foggy. He slowly and carefully placed you into his mouth, making you sit on top of his tongue. He then closed his mouth, trapping you inside.
You were forced to lie down, the tongue acting like a water bed as it moved you in different directions, and you would hear occasional satisfied moans. Your only source of light came from the pentagram underneath you. You braced yourself, hoping not to drown in demonic saliva before you suddenly tilted at an angle, sliding into the dark esophagus. Your descent was a guided fall, the walls pulling you in deeper as you felt something press against you for support. Perhaps Baby's finger on his neck? Muffled screams surround you, as well as a faint beating sound. Did demons have hearts? Before you could wonder anymore, you landed inside an open area with a soft plop.
The stomach walls were slightly wet with dark purple and teal tones shaped into patterns and runes. There were no pools of acid to fall into. You felt as if you landed inside a warm and wet sleeping bag or pillow fort. You sat up and leaned against a wall, trying to stay awake or speak, but your energy was draining. You heard Baby's voice croon and echo around you, but in your daze, the only words you could make out were, "You're mine now~"
For a moment, as you dozed off, you saw pink and magenta flames in the darkness surrounding you in your mind. One flame reached for your forehead and rubbed it without burning you. You drifted off to sleep, the warm walls lulling you to a slumber you were sure to wake from.
