#GAZE UPON YOUR CREATION. ALL THAT YOU'VE MADE OF ME

[thawthebeez]

smiles a little teensy tiny bit😁

[thepaperpanda]

The Offspring || Douma x female demon!reader

Summary: Despite all obstacles, you were able to grant Douma with a demon child

Warnings: None, just Douma teasing Akaza and Akaza being so done with Douma also soft Douma

Word count: 3853

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Douma was taken aback by the news. He never fathomed the possibility of impregnating you. Did he feel remorseful about it? Perhaps slightly, but his intrigue and captivation overshadowed any misgivings he may have had.

Frequently, he would sit with you on his lap and caress your burgeoning belly with slender fingers, all while his iridescent eyes fixated on the stirring movements beneath the skin. The sensation of feeling a life growing inside of you was something he had never experienced before, and it left him entranced.

Upon the arrival of your little one, his fascination only amplified. 

Six months passed. 

He stood there, beholding the small bundle in his arms with reverential awe. The baby’s eyes, like a burst of rainbow hues, met Douma's own gaze, as if recognizing the demon before him.

You stood in the hallway, your gaze fixed on Douma as he played with your child. The door was half-opened, allowing you to watch the scene unfold without disturbing them. 

You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you. Douma had a special way with children if he only wanted to, and you were thankful that he was a part of your and your child's life; instinctively, you knew he'd have done whatever it takes to keep the both of you safe and sound.

The little baby was looking at Douma, his chubby hands reaching out towards the man.

Douma's low hum interrupted the quiet atmosphere. The corners of his lips tugged up into a sly smile, his eyes fixed on you as he addressed his son. "You like to watch me, don't you, Y/N?"

You smiled as you slowly entered the room, improving the cardigan over your shoulders. "Hey darling, forgive me, I didn't want to interrupt. I also love to watch you two interacting."

You approached Douma, and looked down at the baby boy he held in his arms. You saw the boy's tiny finger curling around Douma's slender, index finger, his colorful eyes looking up at you with curiosity. He was dressed in a soft blue onesie; it made him look even more adorable. 

You couldn't resist the urge to interact with your son, so you lowered your head and rubbed your nose against baby's tummy. This playful gesture earned you a burst of laughter from the child, his little body wriggling with joy. You smiled as you continued to tickle and play with the baby, enjoying his infectious giggles.

Douma tilted his head to the side, his gaze fixed on the tiny bundle in front of him. "It's hard to believe we created something so precious," he mused, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at Douma and smiled warmly at him. The corners of your mouth curled up, and your teeth were visible; your cheeks lifted, and your eyes crinkled with joy. 

The baby boy's gaze shifted to Douma, and a smile spread across his chubby face. His eyes sparkled with delight as he puffed out his cheeks, and his little arms reached out towards the man; his fingers wiggled as he tried to grab hold of Douma's turtleneck. The baby's whole body seemed to radiate with happiness as he cooed and giggled.

"Keito is in love with you, there's no doubt," you chuckled, looking up at Douma.

Douma couldn't shake off the strange feeling that lingered within him. He kept replaying the events in his head, trying to convince himself that it had all actually happened. "Is he not the most precious thing you've ever seen?" Douma beamed, cradling the baby in his arms. "I played a vital role in his creation, after all. Without me, he wouldn't be here."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile at the way Douma was cooing over the baby. "And without his mother, he wouldn't be here either," you countered playfully. "Douma, could you please place Keito on the ground for me?" You requested, watching as Douma carefully lowered the boy to the floor.

Meanwhile, you made your way across the room and took a seat on the floor on the other side.

As you watched your son sit confused on the floor, you couldn't help but giggle. Patting your knees, you said loudly, "Keito! Keito, love! Come to mama!"

As he settled into his spot, you couldn't help but notice the way he patted his knees in a playful, almost childlike manner. His voice, too, took on a tone of cheerful exuberance, as he cooed in a singsong voice, "Keito! Come to your daddy."

The baby boy was absolutely confused about where he should go, whether to his mom or to his dad. He looked around with a blunt expression glued to his little face, his little hands reaching out to both of you; he was turning his head as if searching for an answer. His eyes darted from his mom to his dad.

Douma viewed parenting as a competition, a game he was determined to win at all costs. "Come to papa, my little blessing," he cooed, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "Come to daddy. Daddy's going to cuddle you just how you like it."

You tried to make little Keito look at you and crawl towards you by calling out to him, "Hey Keito, look at me! Come on, you can do it! Come to mama!" You waved your hands and made silly faces to get his attention, but he seemed more interested in his father crouching on the other side of the room. 

Eventually, after a few more attempts, the boy finally looked up and smiled at Douma before trying to crawl on all fours like a little explorer towards his dad.

Douma's iridescent eyes twinkled with sheer delight as he eagerly outstretched his arms, beckoning the little boy towards him.

As the child reached him, Douma let out a boisterous laugh, scooping him up into a warm embrace. "My little blessing!" He exclaimed, his voice brimming with affection. "Of course you would come to me, your beloved father."

You improved your position to sit on your butt while letting out a sigh full of sadness. "Of course! I could have predicted it! I'm getting jealous of you, Douma. Keito always chooses you over me."

Demon's eyes sparkled with joy as he gently bounced the baby boy in his arms. "Of course he does," he said with a chuckle. "I am his father, after all. And we share those beautiful eyes." He leaned in close to the baby's face and whispered, "You're a blessed child, just like I was… and am still."

You smiled a little to yourself, even though your heart ached, as you thought about how your son always seemed to prefer his father over you. It wasn't that he didn't love you or want to spend time with you, but there was something about his father's carefree demeanor that drew him in.  

It hurt, but you knew that it wasn't a reflection of your love or your abilities as a mother. Instead, it was just a phase that you had to accept and be patient with. Despite the sadness that lingered in your heart, you knew that your son was lucky to have such a loving and involved father in his life.

As you sat on the wooden floor, lost in thought, you couldn't help but think about how much Douma had changed since you had become pregnant. It was as if the presence of new life growing inside you had awakened something inside him that he had never known existed before. He was always a curious and intelligent man, but now he seemed to be discovering the world and its human emotions in a new and profound way.

In the past, Douma held a disdainful view of children. They were a nuisance, always getting in the way and making noise. He had no desire to interact with them and would have been perfectly content to live a life without their presence.

However, all of that changed when his own blessed son was born. As soon as he held the little one in his arms, he felt a deep sense of attachment and responsibility. Suddenly, the child became his everything, his one and only source of pride and joy. "I never thought I would care for a child," Douma confided to you. "But now that I have one of my own, I can't imagine life without him. He's the most precious thing in the world to me."

After getting up from the floor, you cleared your throat. "Hey, Douma, I needed to tell you something, and I've almost forgotten. Kokushibo announced his visit. As far as I know, he'll bring that other demon you spoke about a lot, Akaza, was it his name?" You rubbed your chin with your sharp nail. "I think that Muzan is sending them to calculate the possible risks, you know what I mean?"

Douma's eyes widened as he perked up, a glint of excitement sparkling in his gaze. "Akaza is coming to visit me? How delightful! I have been dreaming of this for decades!" His voice dripped with anticipation, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could offer his esteemed guests.

Suddenly, the booming voice of Kokushibo interrupted his thoughts, filling the room with its powerful presence. Douma wasted no time and eagerly slid the door open to reveal both demons standing before him.

"Kokushibo-dono, welcome, and Akaza-dono! I cannot express how overjoyed I am that you have decided to visit me!" Douma exclaimed, his tone effervescent with pleasure.

Kokushibo merely strode into the room with a nod of acknowledgment, his stoic demeanor in stark contrast to Douma's bubbling enthusiasm.

You bowed my head respectfully towards Kokushibo, acknowledging his presence and authority. You approached Douma and stood behind him, as if you were trying to hide a little.

Akaza was not at all thrilled about the visit that he was forced to take part in, but he stepped in regardless. As he looked around the room, his eyes eventually fell upon you, and he was taken aback by your beauty. He couldn't help but feel surprised that Douma had managed to find someone as seemingly pretty and cute as you.

Akaza quickly regained his composure, and continued with politeness, albeit with a hint of skepticism in his tone. "Interesting place."

"My followers come here to see me. And, well now, him as well," Douma smiled proudly, showing off his baby to Akaza. "They ask me for all sorts of stuff."

Akaza couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at Douma's boastful attitude, but he kept his cool. "I see."

"That's why we are here. The child," Kokushibo said, pointing at little Keito.

Although you felt the urge to take the boy out of Douma's hands, you resisted the temptation.

Akaza glanced over at the tiny bundle cradled in Douma's arms, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that it?"

You nodded a little, looking at the pale demon from behind your partner's shoulder. "This is Keito."

Douma couldn't resist adding his own comment. "Oh yes, Akaza-dono! This is my little Keito. A child as blessed as me," he boasted, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Kokushibo strode over to the trio, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in Douma's arms. Without a word, he reached out and plucked the baby from Douma's grasp, holding him up by the back of his collar as if he were a mere kitten.

As Kokushibo carelessly plucked your son from Douma's hands, you felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you; your vision began to blur, and you swayed unsteadily on your feet. You couldn't believe how casually Kokushibo had handled your precious child, as if he were nothing more than a mere object. Your maternal instincts kicked into overdrive, and you fought to stay upright as a rush of panic coursed through your body. "Careful, you're handling a baby, not some kind of doll."

Akaza took notice of your distress and turned his gaze towards you, his expression betraying a hint of concern. His eyes darted between you and Douma, assessing the situation at hand.

Meanwhile, Kokushibo glanced at you before expertly cradling little Keito in his arms, as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was clear that he was confident in his abilities to handle the child.

Douma noticed Akaza's expression and sought to reassure you. "You see love? No need to worry! It's Kokushibo-dono," he said, flashing you a reassuring smile. "Oh! Right! Akaza-dono, this is my one and only Y/N," he said, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. "Love, this is my best friend, Akaza," he introduced, gesturing towards another demon.

You let out a loud sigh full of relief when Keito was placed safely in Kokushibo's arms. After looking at Akaza, you bowed your head slightly.

As Akaza turned to face Douma, his curiosity piqued. "How did you manage to find someone like her?" He asked, gesturing towards you. "I had no idea that demons were capable of breeding, though."

Kokushibo, cradling a small baby in his arms, looked up at the conversation. "Because they aren't," he chimed in a stoic tone.

Douma, however, remained unfazed. He simply smiled, pulling you close against his side. "You see, my dear Akaza," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "It takes more than just biology to create life. It takes love, devotion, and a strong desire to create something beautiful in this world."

As you heard Kokushibo's words, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment.

As Douma spoke, Akaza scoffed in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and his expression made it clear that he was highly skeptical of Douma's claims. "Yeah, surely. I bet you were blessed after devouring so many women."

The infant nestled in Kokushibo's arms looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, studying him intently, as if he were trying to decipher his intentions.

Kokushibo's six piercing eyes scrutinized the child before him, his curiosity piqued as to why it wasn't cowering in fear. His gaze bore into the tiny creature, searching for any sign of weakness or vulnerability.

With a dismissive roll of his eyes, Douma waved a hand at Akaza, as if brushing off his words. "Come on, Akaza, you know how it is. I at least devour women and gain strength from them. And I was simply fortunate enough to come across this cute little thing," he gestured to you, "who was kind enough to give me a child."

Akaza's patience was wearing thin as Douma continued to speak in his usual arrogant and disrespectful manner. With a deep scowl etched on his face, Akaza finally spoke up, his voice low and dangerous. "If you don't stop speaking that way," he warned, "I'll be forced to give you a punch, like the last time."

To Kokushibo's surprise, the baby suddenly broke into a wide, toothless grin, his chubby cheeks dimpling with delight.

Kokushibo's gaze shot up from the infant in his arms at the sound of Douma's voice. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken animosity. "Akaza," Kokushibo growled softly, his voice low and warning. "I did not bring you here so the two of you can fight."

Douma merely rolled his eyes, a look of pure boredom etched onto his features. "I don't want any blood on those floors. It's hard to clean."

You just stood there, facepalming at the entire situation. "Kokushibo-dono, can I have my son back?" You asked.

Kokushibo nodded and carefully handed the boy back to you.

You set your arms in a little cradle, to make sure Keito was safe in them.

Douma couldn't resist the urge to taunt Akaza. With a sly grin, he presented the baby boy to his fellow demon, holding the child up for him to see, almost shoving Keito into Akaza's face. "Look at this, Akaza," Douma chimed, his voice dripping with amusement. "I made this."

"Douma, please," you said firmly, your tone serious. "You need to be on our best behavior here. Remember, you weren't the only one involved in making this child."

Without a word, you simply reached out and gently took the child from his arms, cradling him against your chest.

Akaza let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head in amusement at the entire situation. "Well, well," he said, looking at you with a wry grin, "It seems that your woman has some balls after all, Douma."

Douma gasped, feeling offended. "Well, I at least have a woman."

"Kokushibo-dono, can I have a word with you?" You asked the Upper One, handling the baby back to Douma after a moment.

Douma gladly accepted and hugged the boy.

Kokushibo nodded and followed you to the other room.

"Kokushibo-dono, forgive me for asking, but did Lord Muzan say anything?" You asked after sliding the door closed.

Kokushibo's words hung heavy in the air, his face etched with a deep sense of concern and apprehension. "Lord Muzan wasn't pleased about this development," he said slowly, his voice low and measured. "It was something that should never have happened, yet he's holding onto a glimmer of hope."

As Kokushibo spoke, you listened intently, calmed a little by his words. "I wasn't even aware that it was possible for a female demon to get pregnant," you said, your voice filled with wonder. "So, what does this mean for us? To me and Douma? I just hope Lord Muzan won't kill any of us."

"He said that getting rid of you or Douma would be a waste of his time, but he will need the child's blood to run some tests on it."

"Of course," you whispered, nodding your head. "Thank you for bringing the good news, Kokushibo-dono."

Meanwhile, Akaza observed Douma interacting with the baby.

"What are you looking at?" Douma asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You want to hold him?"

Akaza furrowed his brows, looking hesitant for a moment. "I don't know," he said, his voice uncertain, "I'm not really good with babies."

But despite his reservations, Akaza eventually relented, reaching out to take the baby from Douma's arms. As he held the child, his expression softened, and a look of wonder crossed his face. He gently poked the little boy's cheek with his finger. "Squishy."

As Douma observed the scene before him, he couldn't help but emit an amused chuckle. "Awwww! Akaza-dono! You two look so cute together! I never expected to see you looking so soft," he gasped, his voice laced with playful mockery.

"He's so small," Akaza murmured, gazing down at the baby in his arms. "And so fragile. Everything would be fine if not your scent lingering over him," Akaza looked at Douma, his face serious. "You don't deserve any of this, you do understand?"

Douma's grin never faltered as he spoke. "You may say that I don't deserve it, but I have everything I could possibly want. I have a woman I adore and a child that we brought into this world together."

Akaza's expression suddenly turned stern, and he glared at Douma. "Stop grinning like an idiot," he growled, "Or I'll wipe that stupid grin off your face. I have no idea why and how she got involved with you, and it's not my business. She seems like a decent demon, not that strong, yet still intriguing. I can assure you, that if anything will happen to any of them because of your careless behavior, I won't be that nice anymore."

The corners of Douma's lips curled upward as he watched Akaza interact with Keito. The sight was simply too precious to ignore. He couldn't resist the urge to tease his companion. "Aww! Are you going to be a good uncle, Akaza-dono? I always knew you had it in you!" Douma exclaimed, his voice light and playful as he wrapped an arm around Akaza's broad shoulders.

Akaza stood there, his fist clenched at his side, his eyes fixed on Douma's smirking face. He was trying his best to remain calm, to control the overwhelming anger that was bubbling up inside him. But it was difficult. So difficult!

Douma had always been a thorn in his side, with his arrogance, lack of respect for women and his self-assured demeanor. And now, with this baby in the picture, it was even worse.

As much as he wanted to punch Douma's face in, Akaza knew he couldn't. Not now, not when there was a child in the room. So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to compose himself. "Whatever, Douma."

As Douma's fingers wove through the strands of Akaza's disheveled hair, a mischievous grin played across his lips. 

Soon, you and Kokushibo returned to the room and after exchanging some more courtesies, you thanked him and Akaza for the visit and assured them you and Douma were at Muzan's disposal at any time.

"Keep the boy safe," Kokushibo had reminded the two of you before leaving for good.

The baby smiled at him widely, blinking shortly after as the little hiccup kicked in.

Suddenly, Douma let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Look at this, a hiccup."

You walked closer and looked down at the boy, who had a clearly confused grimace glued to his little face. "He's adorable. He's perfect."

"Only because he has a perfect mother," he whispered.

You smiled at Douma briefly, kissing your son's forehead.

"Y/N? I was thinking...” He hummed.

You gave your partner a glance, tilting your head slightly.

"Well, since we made it once, and now we know it's possible..." he trailed off, biting his lip softly. "Maybe our boy would like to have a little sibling?"

"I'm not going through this ever again," you told him with a sweet smile. "Once was enough."

"Oh, Y/N, please!” Douma whined. "Making the baby is fun! So let's make another one."

After giving him another glance, you let out a sigh, massaging your temples. "Douma."

As he leaned into your shoulder, his voice low and sultry, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. "Do you see him?" He murmured, nodding towards the young demon playing in the corner. "He needs a playmate, someone to keep him company while we're away. We could be the perfect family, two beautiful demons and two adorable little ones."

You let out a sigh. "Firstly, how will you explain this to Lord Muzan? Secondly, how can you be sure it'll happen again?"

"Well... We won't know unless we try," he smiled at you sweetly.

"Fine," you told him, taking Keito into your arms. "Fine. Let it be."

"Oh, I love you, my goddess!" He exclaimed, his voice filled with pure adoration.

You smiled at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for both him and your child. "I love you too," you said softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his jawline. "You both are everything to me."

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[kissesbyliz]

miguel o'hara with a gf who crochets

your head is lazily perched upon the wide expanse of miguel's lap, the quiet hum of some nature documentary dull in your ears. your hands are occupied with your usual: a 5 millimeter hook in one and the other steady in tensioning your yarn. your project, currently consisting of a single floppy chain, hangs passively in front of your face.

above you, the love of your life attempts to engage himself in said documentary. it's one that miguel isn't particularly interested in. being the nerd that he is (though he'll never admit it), his tastes lie more in genetics and chemistry. but he knows that it makes you happy, which is why he can't seem to find it within himself to even ask if he can change the channel.

he's able to endure the sporadic squaks of birds and the chittering of monkeys long enough, before his eyes inevitably drag down to your form.

"and what are you making today, cariño?" miguel asks conversationally, hand idly stroking up and down your forearm. he knows you don't like it when he distracts you from crocheting, but he's convinced that if he sees one more insect fly into the mouth of a venus fly trap, he may actually die of boredom.

thankfully, you don't seem to mind. "a tote bag!" you answer with a smile, hands momentarily pausing their actions in favor of showing him the few rows you've created. what's displayed before him is a thin rectangle of yarn, about a foot in length. "look, do you think it's wide enough?"

miguel takes it into his hands for closer inspection. if he's being honest, he's not sure what he's looking at, but he's grateful that you value his opinion anyway.

"i don't know. how big do you want it?" he asks, releasing the piece so you can also take a look.

"um, normal sized maybe? but i don't wanna get up to reference another bag." you whine, stretching the piece out and turning it every which way to see if you're satisfied with it.

he laughs. "want me to get one of yours?" a hand grasps your hip to keep you steady as he begins sliding out from underneath you.

your head jerks up in protest, arm coming out to stop him. "no! stay here, i'll just eyeball it." you pout, eyeing your creation with scrutiny. your head shifts, pressing deeper into his thighs as if to convince him to not move again.

miguel sighs exasperatedly. evidently, you've chosen to wallow in the hell that you've created for yourself. as your hands eventually resume crocheting your piece, he takes a moment to appreciate every delicate motion of your fingers. even after inspecting you work for all the months you've been together, it's still hard for him to wrap his head around how each stitch is made.

once, after an impulsive inquiry from him, miguel's tried his own hand at the craft. under your enthusiastic guidance, he found himself able to understand how to make a chain, and not much else beyond that. his patience soon ran out after you tried to explain the concept of skipping chains to him.

"why make chains if i'm just going to skip over them?" he had asked you frustratedly, beginning to feel his hand cramp up with the unfamiliar motions.

you laughed at that, evidently amused by his struggling, and miguel thinks its one of the most lovely sounds he's ever heard. he glanced up to meet your glee filled face, and felt his heart stutter in his chest.

"you're staring," you sing quietly, returning his gaze with a cheeky grin. he rolls his eyes, hand coming up to pinch your cheek in mock annoyance.

"it's hard not to." he says, his words too sweet for the tight (not tight, you're just being dramatic) squeeze he has on your cheek. he hears you whine at the touch, and he can't help but smile fondly.

how'd he get so lucky?

[libby-for-life]

Part 4 of Alone in Eden. Make sure to read 1, 2, and 3 before reading this. Guitarhero!

Adam was still in shock when Michael took him into his arms. He felt safe there and comfortable. Half his face hurt from where Lilith grabbed him and Michael had looked over him worriedly, tracing parts of his face.

Lilith and Lucifer were bound in chains before the Angelic choir and the Lord himself. Adam had only seen Him once when he was created. While He had a stern expression, His eyes held a kindness he instinctively knew was genuine despite having never experienced kindness.

"Father, Adam's face is bruised," Michael said angrily as he held a numb Adam. "Lucifer and Lilith have eaten the Fruit of Good and Evil. And they celebrated their rebellion by fornicating under the tree itself. Furthermore, when Adam caught them in the act, they chased him down. If I hadn't come to Adam's aid, who knows what they would have done to him?"

Lucifer and Lilith yelled through their gags, thrashing and glaring at all of them. Adam couldn't bear to look at them so he hid himself away, burying his face into Michael's robe.

For a long time, the Lord looked down at Lilith and Lucifer. His once favorite angel looked scared while Lilith glared defiantly. He nodded, as if coming to a decision.

"How dare you disobey me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that made Adam shiver. "I give you life. I give you immortality. I give you no fear, death, or pain. And this is how you repay me? You selfish creatures."

The Lord stood before them, everyone could feel his anger and disappointment, and yet he remained calm outwardly. Like the two before him weren't worth losing his temper over.

"It appears I was far too lenient with you, Samael. Or do you still try to use the name you gave yourself to feel more important?" The Lord cocked His head. "It does not matter. I gave you too much freedom and you use it to corrupt my creation. You introduced her to Knowledge she wasn't ready for. Fools."

Now Lilith was shaking despite her glare. Lucifer looked like he was ready to pass out. "If you would have listened to me, Lilith and Adam would have been given that Knowledge when I deemed them ready. When they were done developing. Instead, you gave her something she wasn't ready for and it has already corrupted her."

Lilith spat out the gag, ready to yell most likely, and yet the Lord simply waved His hand. Suddenly, any sound she tried to produce didn't come out. Her eyes grew wide and terrified. To have such a vital part taken away on a whim...Adam bit his lip as Micheal gently stroked his back and neck.

"You talk far too much when you should be listening." The Lord said. He seemed to grow. "I know what you planned to do with Adam if Michael hadn't gotten to him in time." This time, Lilith looked like she was ready to pass out from fear. "You're lucky my son did come or your punishment would have been tenfold."

The Lord looked furious and yet He still didn't yell. Adam supposed He didn't need to. "Now, for the consequences. Samael, or should I say Lucifer, for disobeying Me, for corrupting The First Woman, and for standing by and letting Lilith hurt Adam, you will be banished from Heaven and Eden. You will no longer be allowed to step into its golden gates nor gaze upon what used to be home. You will forever wander the Earth for eternity with no contact with any other angel for they will attack you on sight." Lucifer glared up at his Father but didn't say anything.

"Lilith. For eating the fruit, for disobeying Me, for trying to hurt Adam, and what you've thought of doing to any of the children you bared with Adam, you will also be banished from Eden. You will forever wander the Earth but it won't be for eternity. Instead of being immortal like you were given, I strip that away. You will grow old. You will become weak over the years and eventually, you will die." Suddenly, Lilith shook as a large hand went to her stomach. "You will also never be able to have children. I will not let you try to bash any child's head in, even if that child is a bastard."

Lilith would have done what to their children?! Adam knew she didn't like the idea of having a child with him but to...to...Adam couldn't even finish the thought. He didn't realize he was crying.

The Lord turned from them to Michael. "Send them off." And He was gone like He was never there.

Adam felt himself grow sleepy as if he were—he didn't even finish that thought as he was put to sleep in Michael's arms. The Archangel handed Adam to Gabriel where he whisked him to the safety of Eden. Michael drew his sword with a glare and walked forward to the rebels.

Lucifer looked at Michael and spat out his gag. "Michael, please—" The Archangel slapped him in the face. "How dare you beg for mercy when Adam did as well and you refused? You're a coward, Lucifer. Our Father was right. We were all too lenient with you and your rebellious ways. I even started calling you Lucifer instead of your given name, Samael. I made every excuse in the book for you. But no longer." He raised his sword and opened a portal to a barren land.

"I hope whatever you have with the whore here was worth it, Lucifer. Enjoy her while you still have her." Lilith must have been given her voice back because they both screamed obscenities as they were shoved out. Michael sighed as the portal closed and he sheathed his sword.

XxX

Adam woke up to something warm and comfortable surrounding him. He looked up and saw Michael looking down at him with a small but genuine smile that made the First Man's stomach fill with butterflies.

The only thing he could say was, "You came for me." Because Michael had promised he would come and he did.

"Of course I did, Adam. I will always come for you."

(For anyone wanting confirmation, yes, Lilith planned on murdering any child she gave birth to that belonged to Adam and she had planned on killing Adam ro keep her secret with Lucifer.)

[moodymisty]

Everyone wants Lorgar carnally until he says grace before giving head. Or when he recites verses that describe the world’s beauty while he gently caresses your body. Or when you’re having sex and he starts whimpering prayers upon prayers about how wonderful you are, how much he loves you, how he wants you so badly, how he’s utterly yours (he’s not even doing it deliberately, it’s like singing your praises is second nature to him). Or after you’ve finished, when he lies down on your bed and looks at you with complete and total reverence. You can see that in this moment, to him, you are the only thing that’s real. The lamp on his desk is illuminating you like a halo, or maybe it’s not even the lamp at all, maybe it’s just you. Lorgar wouldn’t even question it if that was the case, because who is he to question what true holiness is?

In his gaze there’s more than just a lovers adoration. To him you’re not a mere mortal. He looks at you as if you’re the sun itself, like you could fly up to the very heavens and rip the stars from their foundations. His trust placed in you so wholeheartedly that if you decided to smite him for the simple crime of existing, he would let you, he would even thank you for it.

But you love him far too much to even think those thoughts. You cup the side of his face and feel as he leans into your touch. You don’t know it, but if in this very moment you told him to renounce his faith, renounce his loyalty to the emperor, and worship you and only you. He would, without a doubt, say yes.

… Well. I think I might’ve gotten a little too carried away here lmao

Oh hey thanks for the fucking feast, excuse me while I go apeshit with my religious undertones/trauma kink

also @thevoidscreams thanks for the inspo as well fam

Warnings: NSFW, Religious undertones, Body worship

The desert becomes so cold at night, the sand sometimes freezes with little sparkles of dew, reminding you of the snow of your distant home planet.

But despite the frigid air of a Colchis drowned in dark you couldn't feel hotter, skin aglow with the sheen of sweat- lips parted in a pant.

"Lorgar, Lorgar..."

Sometimes his name leaves your mouth as a whisper, sometimes a yell, but it seems as if he can hear neither. It's like he's in a trance, head between your legs for what's felt like and more than likely has been hours.

Your thighs are covered in lovebites, little scratches, redness where he's gripped too tight in his enthusiasm and you've had to pry at his hands and plead for him to stay gentle with you, remind him that you're fragile, as his eyes look at you with reverence.

Sometimes the way he looks at you is almost too much; Too much like worship, the way he lowers himself to press his head between your thighs and whisper so many sweet nothings. So much of it is incomprehensible, speaking in tongues as he presses you into the massive ocean of a bed meant for someone far larger.

You’ve never felt as bared as you have in these moments, like he’s taking every bit of you and some from somewhere beyond.

“By the gods, you look so beautiful… No art, writing or tapestry could ever hold a candle to you like this…”

He could do this for hours, sometimes he has, and while you know he has to in order to prepare you for what’s to come, he takes more than plenty of pleasure in it.

His creation didn’t consider something as frivolous of this; His body wasn’t meant for yours. But you’ve made it work nonetheless, forced it to.

He hears your pitiful whine and hoarse cry as you come against his mouth, desperately grabbing at his hand smothering your stomach and keeping you pressed down in place. He whispers and praises like you’re singing a song just for him, music to his ears.

You could stop here and be satisfied, more than so, but you know that he has so much more he wishes to give you. These moments are rare, but when you manage to steal them he indulges in you until the sun rises and you’re begging for rest. At least a days worth, usually no one sees much of you for a few days after such an evening.

His mouth pulls away from you, his body rises to hover over yours and the difference in your bodies has you swallowed in his shadow, though he only sees you surrounded in light. Your skin glows, lips parted and seemingly beckoning him in.

There’s been nothing more beautiful to him in his life than you, in this moment.

He doesn’t know why he resisted this for so long, though perhaps he should’ve, because now there’s nothing in the galaxy he wants more.

“My love, my little goddess, please, let me…”

You grit your teeth as he presses his way inside of you, a balance teetering just before true pain as you feel the threat of his body weight against your hips and thighs. There isn't much space for your legs to go, they can't truly part wide enough for someone as massive as Lorgar, and so they press into your stomach like he's going to fold you in half.

Throughout it all he speaks as if you’re his gift, as if you’re a beautiful star made manifest.

His whispers his prayers his pleading becomes more desperate until he finishes inside of you, feeling his hot skin against your own.

When his body lays beside yours, he’s looks upon your tired form with reverence. With the same shine in his eyes when he reads his gospel or writes a verse. You wonder if one day it will ever become too much, or if you’ll come crashing down from the pedestal he’s put you on.

“I love you, my dear. More than any other man that has spoken those words. I will pluck any star you desire out of the sky, conquer any planet, or bring anyone to heel just for you.”

You might wish to tell him not to, but the words don’t leave your lips. He kisses you, takes those words from you and leaves you breathless as his hand cups your jaw, and he begins to pray to you once more.

[joelhappyhil]

What's DAWN, and why should I fund it?

Tumblr doesn't feel like the place to spam ads to get a Kickstarter going, I don't know what makes me think that, but it feels right.

So at risk of wasting my time, I've decided to write a comprehensive overview of my upcoming Kickstarter, DAWN.

INTRO

To get started, here's the opening text as of the game's current version:

DAWN is a grid-based, combat-focused, setting-agnostic TTRPG, made with a focus on mechanics that provide as much depth as possible while keeping the game fast-paced and easy to pick up and play. 

Create your heroes, discover truths of the world, face against thinly veiled metaphors in the forms of fearsome overlords and monsters, and grow - both in power and as people - within a world of your own making! Embark on an adventure with friends, coming with its highest highs and lowest lows, bearing the greatest storms to gaze upon the beautiful DAWN.

NARRATIVE

What may or may not be clear from reading this primer, is that DAWN is heavily inspired by the anime and games I enjoyed in my childhood, KMMOs like Elsword and shows like Fairy tale, both properties with strong color-coded character designs and fun magical specialties for each. I'm trying to recreate this vibe in DAWN, but in a way that can fit into nearly any setting.

The game's got a setting creation activity that can help you both make a fun world and get an idea of what the game's intended tone / important narrative elements are.

There are also a number of roll tables I've written up to serve as suggestions or a way to quickly throw together a setting!

COMBAT

The game's combat is meant to be similarly quick and snappy, with its rules less than 10 pages long (As of now), you've got action points to spend on your turn and by default all characters have access to a melee, ranged, and heavy attack, with your Powers adding additional effects and flavor.

Want to be a cool and quick sword master, no need to choose a class, equipment set, and feats to make this possible, just pick up a power or two that fit, and you're done.

WHY SHOULD I FUND IT?

I haven't shown everything here, but the game is available for free on my Itch, and with that you may be asking "Why should I fund this?"

Short answer: There's still not enough.

Long answer: I really want to add some important things to this game, I need more art, I need a proper title page, and I would really love to pick up Affinity and improve the layout, and with my minimum wage income I can't afford that along with being alive. So if you have interest in this project I would really love if you would follow the KS and consider supporting it on release.

[hopepetal]

hi bera its an evil day if i trapped you in a wee bird cage and said the only way you can be free is if you kill off one of the main 5 knights who would you abolish

Hi Clo!

Picture this: you are the sole ruler of a vast and wealthy kingdom. For years, you have watched over your people from afar, keeping a mysterious and aloof persona. You care deeply for your kingdom and its inhabitants, but do not show this to those outside of your innermost circle.

You are a peace-loving ruler. Keeping neutrality throughout the years has paid off, as have striking up trade deals and agreements with the other strong kingdoms. Of course, credit where credit is due- your kingdom's vast wealth and power tend to scare away any potential aggressors.

You try your best. And for a while, it's good enough. It's wonderful, even! Your people are happy, your kingdom is thriving, and the gods are pleased. But eternal happiness is a hollow promise, and nothing gold can stay.

War comes for your kingdom, and it is brutal. You stain your hands with the blood of thousands, and the weight of a thousand griefs rest heavily on your shoulders. Your crown could be made out of thorns, for the pain it brings you when it adorns your head.

Your kingdom is victorious, at a price. Always at a price. Peace is forged in death, written in blood, and sealed with grief. You are not the same after the war, and loneliness sings her song in your once bustling castle halls.

You become cold and cruel. Your quiet kindness is forgotten as your gaze turns to ice and steel. You care less and less for your kingdom- they'll all die, anyway. No use in shedding tears for them.

You live. Long, longer still. Too many years have passed, but Death seems content to keep you waiting. You've grown bitter, so much so that it taints every taste. Your kingdom falls into ruin. You are ousted. You still live.

Surely, this is what brings you to ask me this question. For I cannot imagine any other reason to bring such cruelty down upon a creator who cares so deeply for his creations that they are practically extensions of his very being.

...the answer is Scar, by the way. He gets killed by Grian.

[sol-consort]

Idk if this is your vision or not but, I get the vibe that the illusive man would really like to see shepard and miranda fuck because they're both like dolls in his dollhouse if you know what I mean (like me when I was a little girl and made my dolls scissor lmao). Also I think I'm sick in the head because I think it's really like erotic that he brought us back from the dead like watching over us naked on the surgical table and basically rebuilding her like frankestein type beat (is that weird lmao?)

The illusive man is really the med university drop out to our frankestein's monster <3

It's erotic in the sense that he's viewing you as a piece of art rather than a piece of meat to lust after. Each body part, each square of skin, each droplet of blood, is treated with ten times the value of gold.

You're revered as much as you are obsessed over by him. As he constructs you and comes by weekly to gaze upon your naked form on the medical bed, marvel at his grand creation in all of its glory.

Reconstructing every part of you back to its original form, going through so much trouble just to make you the exact same because you were already the embodiment of perfection to him.

He didn't want to dare change a single thing, add enhancements, or microchip in your brain at the slightest risk it might actually change you, even a little bit. He couldn't afford that.

You're so right about him enjoying watching Miranda and Shep in bed together.

Miranda is more of a childhood doll, worn out and bores him by now, yet he grew attached to her nonetheless. A reminder of his more humble beginnings.

Shepard is his pride and joy, the golden trophy, a symbol of humanity. To own Shepard is to own all of humanity's collective spirts and hearts. It's the perfect doll for the founder of Cerberus, the organization with "looking out for humanity's best interest in mind, above all" as their slogan.

He constructed an entire playground for you, his favourite doll. Built an entire ship, hired the most talented actors and spies to work under you, and brought back your old friends as consolation so he could tie you down to him.

If your attachment to cerberus wasn't enough, then at least the presence of your old friends would make you reconsider.... or at least, confuse your mind enough to start associating his organisation with the same warmth and familiarity.

He built you up, much like god moulded the first human out of clay, The illusive man rightfully views himself as your maker.

Therefore, he knows what's best for you, even when you're not aware of it. You've been too restless lately, chasing after a past long forgotten, why don't you let him remind you of the present you're currently missing out on? Dangling a prize or two in front of your face to get your attention.

Especially with a femshep, he'd be condensing with his phrasing. Not paying your presence any mind as he turns his attention to Miranda, telling her to take you to her room and have a girls playdate. Dismising the two grown women in front of him, Shepard boiling with fury as if she's about to break his jaw, and Miranda who has to swallow her pride and answer with a polite affirmative.

You know he's watching as she strips you down on her bed. You can feel his scorching gaze on your skin through every camera in this room.

Picture him sitting on his chair, legs crossed, head titled to the side in a faux bored look, resting his cheek against the top of his closed hand.

You loath the way Miranda kisses you ever so sweetly, wondered if she's doing this out of her own free will or by some obligation to obide to his every word. Her hand moving up to cup your breast, squeezing the tender flesh, thumb swiping against your pebbling nipple before she takes it in her mouth.

Your back arches against the bed, her hands trail down your sides.

Lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple, sucking and mouthing against it as her fingers move more and more downwards. Brushing your clit, thumbing against it.

Keenly observing your reactions and learning just how you like to be played with, soaking in every piece of new information you unawarly expose to her from the slightest tremble of your bottom lip to your nails digging into the mattress below.

Miranda's fingers getting sticky with your wetness, your heavy breathing fills the room. Suppressed whines and whimpers; you don't want to grant him the satisfaction of hearing you, not when can already see everything happening from tens of angles.

Grabbing a pillow and burying your face into it just as the pleasure build up is too much, the knot in your core pulled too tightly, a mere flick against your clit there is all it takes for you to unravel. You keep the pillow firmly on your face, stealing another scene—one which he views as rightfully his own—from him.

Swearing that the next time you fuck Miranda it will either be on national television for everyone to see and not just him, or in some isolated dingy basement bar on a stained mattress where he may never reach you two.

"A girls playdate" what a fucking joke. You'll make him choke on his words one of those days.

[zorlok-if]

"So... Adam."

Detective Park's head turns to the side. Not fully, his eyes remain trained on the papers spread across his desk. More than that, you feel like he's making a point of not looking at you. He's not the type to give you the satisfaction of his full attention. At least, not when you want it.

"That's a powerful name," you tease. "Leaves you with some big shoes to fill. Did your mummy and daddy have grand plans for you? See their precious, pious little boy as first among men?"

A look you can't fully comprehend flits across Adam's face. He shakes his head once and snorts a short laugh. You can't tell if he's laughing at what you said or just at you in general. Both possibilities are equally likely.

After a moment, he spins around, leaning against the desk with his arms pulled tight across his chest. For a moment his muscles flex and the sleeves of his white button-up are tested at the seams. "No," he replies, his voice clear and unwavering. "Not at all." Without thinking, you lean forward slightly, intrigued. He must note your engagement because he looks even further to the side—his body facing you while his face is almost in profile. "No one gave me this name. I chose Adam myself."

You're surprised. You hadn't realized humans would do that—just choose their own names, refusing the ones assigned to them. Not that you have any problems with that. You're actually a big fan of tossing aside names that are unwillingly bestowed upon you. You just hadn't realized Adam would do the same. You always assumed a tight ass like him would be a stickler for rules, for tradition, et cetera.

"Well then." You lean back, rhythmically tapping the handcuffs with your long nails. "Why Adam?"

Adam's gaze drifts to the floor. He takes a deep breath. Without warning his dark eyes hit yours, his stare piercing through your façade.

"I've never accepted that we're stuck with the things we're given. In fact, I hate that so many people are made to feel beholden to whatever they're given at birth. So, as a kind of 'fuck you' to the idea of Creation and the concept of 'God given', I adopted the name Adam." Your lips twist into a smile. You've never heard Adam swear before. "I wasn't born Adam," he continues, "because I wasn't blessed enough to be given a name or a body that fit who I was." Adam returns to his papers, but as he looks away there isn't a hint of shame or embarrassment in his eyes. Adam is confident and collected as he says, "No one made me who I am. I am Adam. I've always been Adam. But I had to remold myself from clay."

Please enjoy this sketch of Adam courtesy of the lovely and incredible Vin (@fooltofancy). I cannot recommend working with them enough. Definitely go check out her other work (like this one of Eve or this one of Dev).

[shirefantasies]

hi!!! if you're still doing match-ups i'd love to request one! the ones you've done so far are so cute. so my name is asiya and i am half indian half pakistani. i have long brown hair and brown eyes and my face is pretty pale. i am 5'0 so def on the shorter side LMFAOO. i rlly love reading and writing when i'm not busy with college. i also rlly like to try new foods and go on trips. i also am the occasional baker and chef when i'm not lazy so there's also that. in addition, i rlly like going for walks and listening to music i find that sooo soothing. i'm also a big movie watcher. like if you tell me we're watching a movie i will be tuned in idc. i'm pretty guarded when you first meet me but once i've become comfortable with you it's over bro. i will make jokes and yap 24/7. anyways i hope that's enough information. thank you so much and keep up the great work <3

“oh hey this is asiya again sorry i forgot to add but could you do a lotr match for me tysm <3” Absolutely I can because your man is...

Faramir!

Interest arises in Faramir’s mind the moment he hears a troupe of entertainers has rolled its way to Minas Tirith- quite unusual, indeed. Always one for the arts, though, he is determined to make his way to it at least once while he has the opportunity. After all, they have undertaken the great effort to erect a stage for the benefit of his people. Shuffling into the crowd, Faramir is unsure what to expect right up to the moment the curtain rolls upward, revealing a pair of players. The moment they speak, the setting changes and he is enveloped in story.

So enveloped, in fact, that by the end of it he feels compelled to rise up and make his way backstage with compliments. As soon as the curtain parts, his eyes meet yours, catching the way they flutter in surprise. “My apologies,” he tells you, “I was simply captured by what you showed today. Truly I am grateful to have made my way to your show.” “What,” you ask him, stepping closer, “is your name?” “Faramir, my lady,” he bows slightly, a hand across his chest before it reaches for yours. Letting him take your hand, you incline your head. “Asiya,” you say, “and I admire your love of theatre. Put me before a play and all the world fades.” “Put you in one and you have quite the same effect,” he remarks with a smile.

He cannot help asking if you have seen the great art of Minas Tirith, and when you say no he presses on to inquire if he might be the one to show you. Thus you find yourselves strolling through a great hall before poring over massive, intricate tapestries that have you both musing over the stories behind them, laughing lightly as you all but write a play together from it all. Your presence is natural to Faramir, his whole body relaxing in a way it simply did not around most, and he cannot help hoping you feel the same.

The next time he finds you, you are leaning out a window of all places, waving him down with a lovely grin. You’ve baked some fresh bread and are wondering if he would come in for some; there is soup also, a new recipe. “I suppose I was inspired today,” you joke as Faramir sits across from you. Your eyes shine as you ask him how it is. The picture is calm, domestic, and the whole thing brings heat to his face. When you finish your meal, discussing your favorite books, it is clear neither of you wish the night to end, so you leave for a stroll.

Draping his cloak over your shoulders, Faramir watches your movements, tracks your smile and mirrors it. “Minas Tirith is a place of beauty,” you remark, eyes tracing up to the sky. “It is,” he agrees, his gaze focused solely upon you, “a place of history, of many mighty works of men and yet you bring something new. I wish that the White City could always glow with such creation, such vibrance as you give it.” “Faramir,” you tease, swatting his arm lightly, “is this your way of trying to steal me?” “I would not have you parted from the things that enliven you so, that which brings the smile to your face, and yet I confess Minas Tirith has never shone so as when you entered it.” “Wow,” you reply, gorgeous lips parting and big brown eyes widening, diverting their full attention Faramir’s way, “I had intended to make a joke about your ploy working, but now I’ve simply lost my words entirely. Would that I had a script.”

“Well, you need no script for this.” And thus beneath Minas Tirith’s moonlight, under the shadow of soaring white towers and the glitter of stars alike, your lips met, Faramir’s hand cradling your cheek with tenderness you could never imagine.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

***MATCHUPS ARE CLOSED***

[whatever-fanfics]

Hang on Me

~~~

Ikemen Vampire

Dazai Osamu x Reader, pt 1

A/n: First part of the Stalker series, also I am NOT fluent in Japanese at all, I apologize as there are most likely many mistakes in translations of informal/formal speech and so on, I mostly used google translate and other websites. But expect there to be mistakes. Additionally, I don't know if Dazai has a pen name in the events of the his route so I just didn't give him one directly. I also don't remember the editor having a name so I also gave him a random name.

Tw: Contains depression, stalking, destruction of property, threats

Translations:

Dazai: Ohayo/ Morning (informal)

Sebastian: Ohayo Gozaimas/ Good morning (formal)

Y/n: Ohayo/ morning (informal)

Sebastian: Matte/wait (informal)

Dazai: gochisosama, itte kimasu/ thank you for the meal, I'm leaving (informal, formal)

Y/n: Deeto/ Date (informal(?))

Dazai: nande/ why (informal)

Y/n: iya-dōiu imidesu ka? Shuji-kun?/ no,what do you mean? Shuji-kun (formal)

Dazai: Dou shita no?/ What's wrong? (informal(?))

Y/n: kiete shimatta, kako ni wa inai!/ It's gone, it's not here! (informal(?))

Theo: dwass/ fool

Theo: Verdomme/ Dammit

~~~

Dazai's blissful slumber crudely comes to an end as the suns glare unwelcomingly attaches itself to his face. As his face scrunches in brief discomfort, he opens his eyes and his gaze travels downwards to what, or rather who, should be occupying the space next to him, his sleeping lover. His discomfort from the sun intensifies as he opens his eyes to see that you were not in his arms. A shiver racks his body, he'd left the window open and the winter months have not been kind.

As he shielded his face a groan escapes his lips when he decides to haul himself up and look around the room for you, a pout rests on his face and he sighs as you are nowhere in his peripheral vision. Dazai knows there are only two options as to where his beloved is.

Quickly changing from his yukata into his daily kimono, he sets out to your room.

You weren't in your room Dazai crossed off one place from his mental list and quickly made his way to the kitchen in search of you.

~~~

Upon nearing the kitchen he heard Sebastians most recent scolding. "...honestly" the butler sighed more in concern than in irritation or anger.

"Ohayo~" a light smile graced Dazai's face as he made himself known. Upon taking in your latest creations "oh my, Toshiko-san, you've truly outdone yourself a true pâtissier" Dazai says as he picks up a piece of cut bread, 'mm banana' he thinks as he chews it. "Ohayo gozaimas Dazai-sensei" Sebastian greets, "Ohayo" you say rising from your apologetic bow. Dazai hides his frown as he takes in your appearance, disheveled sleeping attire, hair partially rusted, most likely from the little sleep you were able to get, eye bags darker than they were before, you could almost confuse them for a make up look.

"I'll go out and get more now" at your words Dazai's attention was gathered, "matte, at least wait until after breakfast" Sebastian pleaded. You nodded and started gathering the many pans and platters filled with pastries and cookies, etc.

As both men watched you exit the kitchen "Dazai-sensei..." Sebastian knew he didn't need to make his concerns vocal, but he knew you weren't well. He could see it, they all could. "Mm" Dazai agreed, his smile vanishing, while he was concerned for his lover he trusted that you would come to him, if and when you needed him, which you do. He was aware of your 'coping mechanisms' as you put it, it was healthy and yummy, in his opinion, but he knew that wasn't enough sometimes. After all you were approaching the one year mark of your saying good-bye to your home...and your time.

Putting the last of breakfast on the table as everyone, almost everyone, sorry Napoleon, trickled in. You took a seat, still in your pajamas, as opposed to everyone who were dressed for the day. "Hondje" you looked up from your plate. "Yes?" you answered, "do you need more training or did you actually forget your brains this morning" Theo confidently asked, he was worried. "Huh? Oh, no, I just didn't want my clothes to smell like food for when I go out later so.." you trailed off. You wanted to get an early start on the groceries, to make it up for Sebastian for using most of the baking ingredients for tomorrows breakfast. "Is anybody else finished?" you ask, multiple heads turn to look at you.

"You're done already?" Isaac asks, making a rare appearance at breakfast. "Ah, I'm not really that hungry, kept snacking while I was baking" you say as a matter of factly, you smile at the rest of them and take your plate to the kitchen.

Dazai decided, this was his time to act, "gochisosama, itte kimasu" he said as he followed you in pursuit.

"Shuji-san" you called him as you turned on the tap "you're not going to eat more?" you wonder if the food was to his liking, he usually likes the food, seeing as it is usually a traditional Japanese breakfast, but you made it like you always do, so maybe you did something wrong? "Mm-mm" he dissuaded your worries, "I've got and early meeting with my editor, after that I am mostly free. I thought we could get the groceries together and after..." he trailed off.

"Deeto!" a brilliant smile lit up your face in turn let up his and he nodded in affirmation.

Finishing up the dishes you animatedly told your boyfriend to wait for you by the stairs as you briskly walked to the doorway, then hiking it up to your room to change and fix your-everything.

~~~

You held a bit of breath as Shuji helped you down from the carriage. Still not used to balancing your weight on such a small step.

"This meeting shouldn't take long" he said hoping it would ease you, you nodded not worried at all. Happy wherever and whenever you were with him.

"You made it" Dazai's editor stood from the booth, as he greeted you both. After shaking Dazai's hand he took yours, you gave a slight bow more out of habit than anything else. He clumsily returned your slight bow as best he could, not wanting to be rude. He only stopped when you gave him one of your kind smiles.

Ever the gentleman Shuji let you sit first while he and his editor, Auguste, got their greetings out of the way and settled down into the booth to discuss Dazai's newest short story. As you waited for their meeting to end you pulled out your latest re-read, 'The Call of Cthulhu', H.P. Lovecraft. Though you knew to be careful, this book wouldn't be written for almost, another twenty years. You had carefully folded a cover over the book, a simple Lovecraft written on top.

As the meeting came to an end barely an hour later, Auguste took notice of your book. "Love..Cra..ft" he announced, gathering yours and your lovers attention. "English?" he questioned, you nodded, "I have to say I've never heard of them" he looked up at you, eyes shining with childlike curiosity.

"Ahh, he is..rather unknown..mostly known in Japan. Not very popular here" you chose your words very carefully. "Really, well you should introduce him to me then!" You and Shuji gently laughed as Auguste playfully boasted about his profession and skill. As you three stood up to say your goodbye's and leave.

"Monsieur, would you like me to pack this to go?" the waitress asked the elderly man sitting at the counter. His eyes which were so glazed over only moments before they sprang to life once more, "No!" he hollered moving fast enough that his hand had gotten caught on the edge of the cake, sending it toppling over, plate and all. Making a rather loud crash, as the plate broke in three and the cake landed smack onto the floor. Gathering the attention of many in the cafe, including your boyfriend, yourself, and the seniors son.

"Papa!" Auguste turned to the scene. "Please accept my apologies. I'll pay for the plate of course. Papa are you alright" you and Shuji watched in silence, while most of the cafe patrons went back to their own business. "If it's not too much trouble, can we have two cakes to go?" He asked the waitress as went to get something to clean up the mess only bending down to help once he received an affirmative nod. Your heart cracked as you saw his expression, grief and sadness written all over him "She was going to take it away, how will she know we're waiting for her if there's no cake. She loves cake" he accentuated his point with his hands and body. You could tell by what seemed like gibberish to most were the signs of something much more painful.

"I know papa..." you didn't need to see his face to know Auguste had a painful expression on him. One that you and Shuji wore often. "Please excuse me" he briefly excused himself to Dazai before fussing over his father and trying to get him to calm down.

As Auguste's father was calming down he turned his head to the side, where the glass window was and locked eyes with you. "Anne!" you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes "Anne!" the elderly man eagerly made his way towards you, a look of fatherly love evident on his face, only now did you take in the rest of his appearance. Well dressed for a person of upper middle class, though the type of coat he's wearing was generally something you'd seen on a younger sort of man. "Anne where have you been, your brother and I have been waiting for hours! You didn't go off with that Beaudet boy did you? He's not as kind as he seems." You watched him go off in a fatherly rant, that seemed familiar in a way. You didn't pull away as he took hold of your hands and engulfed them in his own gaunt and thin hands, holding strong and firm the opposite of how he was perceived. "Would you like to sit down" you offered a kind smile gracing your features.

Dazai was unsure of what to do.

The older man did as you asked but kept his hands on your own regardless.

"Papa..." his son looked at his father a deep sense of sadness in his eyes.

"Why don't you go on to your next appointment and I'll see you later" you ended in a question so as to give him control, just like a daughter would with her father. "Ohh.." he trailed off seriously thinking it over "al-alright we'll see you at home, come Auguste say goodbye to your sister. I'll wait for you by the entrance" he said not looking back once.

You all watched him walk off in the direction of the entrance of the cafe, muttering to himself, but more calm than he was moments ago.

"Are you alright" your beloved asked you, worried of you'd been shaken up at all. "I'm alright" you eased his worries.

"I'm sorry about him, it's..it's gotten worse these days..he was confused because your stature and features well, they remind him of my sister, Anne. She has long since passed" you gave your condolences and shook your head in understanding. "I went through something similar like this with my grandfather, in my experience it's best not to try a break them out of it." you recounted. "Hm, yes that's what the doctor has been telling us as well" Auguste explained. You both saw how he didn't want to go much farther into it, so you decided to say your goodbye's and quickly took your leave.

~~~

"I think we can make it to the supermarket on foot from here" you leaned outwards on the curb than on the sidewalk, looking out as far as you could while trying to balance your lower half on the curb and your upper half trying to catch sight of the grocery store. Shuji kept his arm around your waist, firmly, as you leaned out further, "be careful" he reminded you, you mindlessly agreed and set yourself straight again. "Okay, I think I see it from here" you say, matter of factly, when you didn't get an answer you turned to your lover to find him staring off into space. "Shuji-san" he looked down to you as he felt your hand softly caress his cheek, your expression tightening with worry. His hand easily encompassed your own as he met your worry with his own gentle smile.

As you two started to walk he asked "Y/n, is it common there? That people are aware, and know what to do with elders who aren't well?" As you walked together through the semi crowded sidewalk Dazai took hold of your bag so you could hold hands, you were always more comfortable with affection than he was. Though, you trusted he would tell you if he was uncomfortable with anything. "Hm, of you mean back at the cafe right?" you asked, to which he nodded. "Not really, in my case it was because I was exposed to it so much. But unless you work in that sort of field or you or someone you know are affected by it, not many people know how to act." you finish. "it was like that before too" you were surprised by his answer, not by what he said, but because Dazai doesn't talk about his past very often.

"I think I heard about a Love-uh Craft-eh, when I was young" Dazai admits changing the topic quickly, "really?" while you knew they operated around the same time period you didn't think he would be big or even available in Japan at that time. "Ah" he confirmed, "do you like him" you hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, swallowing your humor you answer. "As a writer, sort of...yeah" you shake your hand to and fro to accentuate. "As a person absolutely not" the matter of fact tone in your voice makes Dazai press further, "oh? Why is that" he turns to you. "Well" you start "it doesn't help that he was a raging white supremacist" you finish, "hm?" oh, 'that term might not be in use yet', "he was really really racist." you explain, "ahh" you saw him nod in understanding.

"After we're done maybe we should visit the children in the park?" he proposed, changing the subject. "Mmm, maybe, though they might not be there, it's getting colder now" you answer, winter was getting closer and it was getting dark earlier as well. You thank him as he holds door open for you, "do you wanna split up or do you want to get everything together" as if you even have to ask, he smiles at you. You converse as you gather the essentials flour, sugar, yeast, etc.

You were almost done with the list, you and Dazai split up to get the last two ingredients. Unfortunately for you, the sugar you needed was on the top shelf. Your face turns red from frustration as you try and fail to grasp the item. An angry pout settles on your face, as you drop your feet evenly back to the ground. Taking a deep breath, you reach up again, this time your fingers grasp it wobbling it back instead of forward. you squint in concentration.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pushing your weight back down. They go for the item, reaching farther than you could. Your brief surprise dissipates as you realize who it is from their side profile. "François!" your surprised voice reaches his ears. The young man s boyish smile accentuated by the light outside. "Thank you" he sheepishly waved you off, his smile softening for you. "How was your day" he asks "oh, it was good, my boyfriend's taking me out after this" You replied unable to hide your blush at the mention of your lover, though you were surprised by his question, even so you shouldn't have been considering he almost always asks how you are.

"Hello" the way Dazai lowers himself to your ear to whisper softly to you has you scarlet red. "Dazai!" Neither man miss the way your face brightens when you notice his presence. "François" you motion to the young boy, "Dazai" you motion to your love. "Dazai Osamu" Shuji said cooly, offering his hand, he saw the way François looks at you.

Shuji looks at you the same way.

"Ah, François Beauvais" he hastily shook Dazai's hand as he introduced himself, Dazai's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he felt François' grip squeeze. A sensation he returned, his Cheshire smile widening by a fraction.

Sensing the tension you put your hand on Dazai's arm and asked "did you find it alright", as the sound of your gentle voice serenaded his ears, Dazai's tense expression lifted as his eyes met your own.

'You are the Euridyce to my Orpheus', Dazai thought as stars were held in his eyes.

An uncomfortable cough breaks you two out of your reverie. "Please pardon us" your sheepish answer only makes Dazai inwardly swoon more, you're so cute when you're flustered. "Did you find it alright" you repeat, to which he replies "yes, are you ready" as you nodded Dazai got ready to depart.

"Are you ready to pay, I can go with you to the register that way you won't have to wait in the line" the young man rushed out. Jealousy dripped down into Shuji's stomach, a silent breath made its way out his mouth. "Are you sure that's alright, won't you get in trouble?" Your worried expression matched the tightness in your chest. Dazai nodded in agreement wondering the same thing.

"Don't worry just don't tell anyone" François playfully winked at you as he held his finger to his lips. Shuji doesn't like him, "that's alright, I don't want you to get in trouble" you decidedly announced, "hm?" the young man voiced his confusion, not expecting your rejection. "Thank you for your assistance" Shuji abruptly ended the interaction. As he took the woven basket, provided by the store, in one arm placing the item he'd gotten in alongside the rest and took hold of your arm in a gentle yet firm grip, making his way toward the cashier.

You fell into step with him as you both heard the owner call out "François! Get moving!".

As you two made your way to the front to pay, your eyes met François' once more, a quick flat smile made it's way onto your face as you waited for him to finish bagging your items and for Dazai to finish paying the cashier. "Thank you" you bowed slightly, he waved you off, "it's nothing, this is my job".

You and Shuji walked out of the store hand in hand as he held the bag in his other hand.

"You wanted to go to the-" "Ggrrrrrr..." your blush more apparent then Isaac's bright hair. "Hey!" a chuckle Shuji failed to hide made it so much worse, you looked like you were ready to cry. "Ahh, I can't help it when my beautiful dove makes such noises" he confessed as his laugh died down. "You keep saying stuff like that people are going to get the wrong idea" you mutter an out evident on your lips as you look away in embarrassment.

~~~

You leaned back as a waiter brought your sweets and tea over, you both thanked him quietly. You don't think you'll be able to see the children today, looking at Shuji noticed the forlorn look upon your lovers face, "what's wrong" your worried tone reached him. "Y/n, are you unhappy" his grave tone and matching expression put you off guard "eh?" small, curt and full of confusion "iya-dōiu imidesu ka? Shuji-kun?" being completely unprepared by such a confrontation, it felt like your defenses and walls were being pulled apart. Like you were put bare for the world to see, you wanted it to stop, but you knew you couldn't do that. Not to him. "Is this about from this morning" you continued switching back to French, gathering enough of your bearings to switch languages.

"Mm" he confirmed, "are you unhappy here...with me" he added the last part quietly casting his head down in fear, maybe it's not that you don't want to be with him maybe it's that you don't want to be awa-"No" he looked up your eyes full of resolve. Sure and as unwavering as the glaring sun. "No I am not unhappy here nor am I unhappy with you" you repeat, "if this is about this morning, I just..get tired sometimes and...that's just my way of dealing with things, I have other ways but not many that I feel secure doing..here anyways" your confident look washed and faded away as you answered him.

"If that's what it is then why don't you come to me about this, that's what we're here for" you know what he means. Not the others not Le Comte, not Napoleon, not Leonardo, him, just him. "There are so many reasons as to why I don't talk about this to people, but one of the most common reasons is because..." he waited for you to continue as a lump formed in his throat from anticipation? Anxiety? Fear? Still he kept quiet as you found the words.

"I tried that before-before I met you that is..." your voice trailed off, your hands fiddled with one another your gaze downcast in anxiousness. "'Stop being lazy', 'we all have problems', 'you have too much time on your hand you just need to exercise'... I've told people close to me about this before and they always told me stuff like that, eventually...I just..stopped" your confessions tore a crack in his heart. How can someone, anyone, say this to you. You who are so kind, so amazing, so beautifully you.

"When I decided to tell them that what they said wasn't helpful..." he waited in silence as you tried to find the proper words "they would just stop...in-in a way...when I got more comfortable telling them that I wasn't..okay. They would always get this despondent, sorrowful look their face and that felt worse then being pitied...because I knew that they didn't know how to help me. And I don't want to make anyone feel like that, least not-especially not you. You are my happiness, how could I do that to you"

"I'm sorry" you bowed, you didn't mean to hurt him. "I'm-I'm not angry, I'm worried, I don''t want to lose you. I want to be someone you rely on" you look up at him your gaze filled with pure adoration, love and affection swirl in your heart. Your eyes water as you nod.

As you begin to eat he tells you about some of his ideas for his next stories. Never once missing how your face softens every time as you converse back and forth.

~~~

An irritated breath left your lips as you hastily emptied your bag and its contents onto the desk.

You two had gotten back barely an hour ago, you were supposed to meet him in la thermae, but when you began to empty your bag from the day you noticed, it wasn't there. The knot in your chest getting bigger and bigger.

"Dou shita no?" you were so worried about your missing item, Shuji's voice and the light from the hall surprised you. "The book, the one I had with me today, kiete shimatta, kako ni wa inai!" you cried in fear and self blame. He put a comforting hand on your shoulder, a sigh of defeat exits from you "perhaps Auguste has it? If not we could go looking for it tomorrow" he began listing off the numerous places it could be. "I can't tomorrow I promised to help Theo with prepare for the upcoming gallery" you whined in exhaustion and defeat. "Still, if it turns up it'll most likely end up at Theo-kuns office" he reminded you.

You'd forgotten, you asked Theo if it was alright to write his office address on the inside of your books incase any of them ever got lost. Since the mansion can be hard to find with it being deep in the woods. He'd said it was alright as long as you help him out from time to time.

It was getting late, while you were anxious about your missing book you were also worried about bothering everyone who were all most likely starting to get ready for bed.

~~~

While you found it hard to fall asleep completely beside yourself with worry. What if someone finds it and it and you end up ruining the future? But with Shuji soothingly rubbing circles on your back as you clung to his yukata, your mind going in circles from anxiousness.

While the thought of baking again did seem appealing you knew that Sebastian wouldn't have enough of the ingredients he would need for tomorrow's breakfast. Also you have not had a full nights sleep in almost 48 hours.

The lack of sleep did outweigh your anxiety eventually, you and Shuji fell asleep intertwined with one another.

~~~

"Ready" Theo turned to you checking his pocket watch, one of his treasured gifts from Vincent. Yawning you nodded in response while covering your mouth, he looked at you eyebrow raised in slight concern, to you it came off as offense "sorry, I didn't get much sleep yesterday" you answer sheepishly. "I don't need to know your night activities hondje" he teases turning away so you won't see his face. "What? No! I lost one of my books so I was worried about how to find it, I have the address of your office written down but still" he turned back around at the sound of your worried voice reached his ears. "Tucking your tail between your legs isn't going to solve anything, it should turn up sooner or later, I'll have some of the others keep an eye out at the office incase someone comes in" he told you as he tussled your hair.

"Thank you" your worry mostly easing over at the moment, you bow slightly in thanks. "Tch, you don't need to thank me, let's go hondje" he tells you as he starts walking back not looking back once. You wordlessly follow him jogging up to match his pace.

Dazai smiles at you as he watches silently behind the stairs railings.

~~~

A little while after you'd reached the gallery Theo noticed that some of the papers he'd needed weren't with him. You offered to help him look for them.

"Did you find them?" He hollered from across the room. It was mostly just you and a couple of Theo's employees. Most of which were moving the paintings around. The others were helping to look of rhte papers, "No" you called out definitively. "Is it possible you left it back at the office?" You turned back to look at him walking over, "If not maybe they're still at the mansion" your voice quieter not only so no one else would hear you but also because Theo was right in front of you.

He nodded in agreement "Verdomme!!!" He exclaimed, you quickly leaned back and away from him as he quickly breathed out through his nostrils to calm himself down. "Sorry, sorry" he apologized and took a few more calming breaths, "lets's-let's look again" he decided pinching around his eyes in frustration.

"We've searched three times" you reasoned. "Look, if it's not here then it's at the office. If it's not at the office then it's in your room. Documents don't just disappear like that, they have to be somewhere" you really hope you're right.

"You're right, let's head to the office and search there if not then I'll head back and you and one of the others can hold down until I get back." Theo decided, you nodded in agreement and you two swiftly made your way to his office in town. Luckily it wasn't far from the gallery.

~~~

"You start by the door, I'll start by the-" "Theodore!" you both turned to the voice that cut Theo off, it was the owner of the gallery. "Go on ahead I'll meet you inside" he told you while handing you the key, which you accepted.

You locked eyes with the other person who was staying at the office that day, the acknowledged you and went back to their cigarette.

Opening the door your gaze was immediately drawn to the papers on the floor.

"Wha...!!!" your train of thought was cut off by the sight in front of you.

~~~

"Theodore, I'm not so sure about-" "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"

The two turned immediately at the high pitched shriek of terror. And before the owner could ask, he saw Theo darting towards the door and up the stairs.

It was you

"HONDJE!!! WHAT-!!!" he froze at the sight in front of him. Upon entering the room a foul familiar smell of iron intruded his nostrils. Covering his nose and mouth with his arm, he reached down to help you off the floor where you fell. "We-we need to...we need to call the constable"

~~~

Tag list: @loverofmanyrandomthings

A/n: I am so sorry this took so long. 😓

Please interact and tell me what you think, I would like to know what I should improve on.

[croissantlover24]

so! various nexuses. nexii???? whatever. various people named nexus I have some song lyrics that will become a prophecy for you whether you like it or not okay? okay! lets go!

[Magolor]

What have I done?

Oh, ancients, what have I done?

Is this the prize I received For betraying them?

Their hospitality Was met with my treachery

They didn't deserve such deceit...

Oh, everyone! I should've had a second thought

And heeded how my doubt had wrought

The seeds of hesitation Was this power worth the pain

That I had laid upon my friends?

The flaying of my mind?

The ends don't justify the means, And now a darkness births!

In a fool who had sought in greed to rule the universe!

This fell power has me under its control

Oh, why did I seek its hand?

Now I dangle from the strings to fuel its goal

A vessel infested To spread shadows through all the land!

In darkness, consciousness confined, I'm unaware of space and time

A prison built within my mind to feed the Crown's true aim

My cries are silenced in the void

A puppet, now merely a toy

Existence soon will be destroyed, And I'm the one to blame...

From the veil, a friend returns from the night

Struggle on, our fates rest on this fight

Set the sun on this coronation!

Stop the dark and devastation!

My body forfeit, and my soul is forced to see

I beg of you, Kirby!

Slay the Hell of my own creation,

And clear the floor for liberation!

I am tainted by error

This terror should not come to be!

I neither deserve forgiveness,

Nor your mercy and your kindness...

My fate is sealed, So, strike me with the blade you wield!

My control of my soul is slipping,

Oh, Kirby, you must never yield!

You must save your homeland, And be it's shield!

I can sense my conscious mind start to succumb

And the feeling in my body start to numb

Please... If you make it out, I want you to know I am so very sorry...

I only pray the courage deep in your heart Is enough to save the universe from me...

Help me...

Kirby...

Help...

[Mistiltienn]

Struggle as he might, There was no escape from the truth.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

And now the universe shall meet its reckoning.

Gaze and despair, Say your last pitiful prayer

For now a matter most dark Engulfs all that breathes

I rule your hand

Your blood is mine to command

The stains you marked on the land

Shall make sure you're seen as but a pawn to my true aim

The one whose soul is mine to claim

The world will never be the same

As now the darkness shall reign

Your purpose has been served

And you've received what you deserved:

And endless sleep as all things burn.

You brought about all this pain

Now rest in torment as a world's anathema rains

You are nothing but a shell to be consumed

Stay down, stay asleep, never wake

Fool who dared to rouse the universe's doom,

Bear witness your lust for control

As the world you love breaks!

In darkness, consciousness confined

Be sentenced for your callous lies

Fall silent as your struggle dies

And let the darkness rise

No words, no feeling in the void

Dance for me, puppet, dance my toy

You've done your part, you've made your ploy

Forever close your eyes In your sleep, you dream a dream of regret

I shall grant no penance, though you repent

Still your will dares to stand defiant,

You refuse to lay compliant

Oh, such trust you put into that wretched child

Ungrateful and vile

Very well, you shall now bear witness

As I crush the light's resistance

With a prayer unanswered,

Your name shall be cursed and reviled.

[Magolor]

No! I neither deserve forgiveness nor his mercy and his kindness

But he's good

And kind

With naught but love and trust in his mind!

My control of my soul has faded,

So Kirby, you must stand and fight!

You must save our universe!

Oh, you're our light!

Though the Crown's corruption grips it's every heir,

My mistakes should not be your burden to bear

Dreams for me, theme parks, games,

And romps in the sun

For when you end this nightmare

Break through the darkness bearing down on my soul

And when you join the sky, Maybe I'll be there...

MS Nexus: Thanks for wasting my time.

Firewall’s Malware Nexus: I doubt I’ll end up like that.

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: PART 25 of the Bedlam au! Lmao sorry for the late update, I thought I had queued this... turns out I had not!

X

The Bedlam tilts his head to better appraise the Creation. He notes all the ways he improved upon the original design – from the sharper cut of the suit, to the softened stripes beneath the eyes – perfect, save for the eyes.

Maybe if he'd gone with green buttons, his prey might have taken his offer.

"Do you want to know why your smart, sensible Haru fell for my world," he asks, "even with button-eyed doppelgangers? Why she couldn't see the web, until it was too late?" He meets the cat Creation's gaze head on, and marvels how easy he is to read with those eyes. "She was blind, Baron, because she wanted to be. Because she desperately wanted the lie I offered to be true." He smirks. "Because even an alternative version of you was better than nothing."

There — he sees it: the rage weakens, and grief flickers in the Baron's eyes.

"You made it easy, Baron," the Bedlam purrs. "Practically threw her into my arms."

"Not too easy though," the crow Creation adds. He doesn't bristle with rage, like the mortal cat, nor burn with the same intensity as the Baron. Part of that is surely from his longer stay in the Bedlam's cage, his anger spread out thinner, but there is still something pointedly calculated in his eyes. "She didn't seem so eager to throw away her soul for a chance to stay with you, even after all the time you've spent winning her over."

"A miscalculation," the Bedlam replies. "I let my temper get the better of me." Perhaps he should have played his part for longer, kept up his charade – but his attention had been divided by his intruders, and when he had come back to the matter at hand, his meal had been halfway to the archway, led by none other than one of his own puppets.

That's another dilemma...

He looks on his captives, two out of the three the baseline for his marionettes. For weeks, he had watched them, refining their doppelgangers – a little less of the arguing, a little more teamwork – and now, as he considers their blind rush into his world to save their friends, he sees his mistake.

He had made them too true to the originals. They care too much for Haru, enough that they would rebel against him, if it meant saving her.

It's a mistake he won't make again, but the damage is done for this trap. He doesn't have the time to weave them anew; the best he can do is make sure their strings are good and tight.

Before Haru returns, he will be sure to bind all his puppets with more web. Even if they don't want to play along, he can make sure they dance to his tune.

One problem down...

[umbralaether]

"You've been playing me since the beginning, haven't you?" ;-;

*insert evil laugh here* oh I am NOT to be trusted with angst asks anymore. Enjoy some painful Azemet <3

Leaving the Convocation became a fight that never ended, rooting itself in place and weaving around them. A disagreement, always circling back, leaving her no choice but to leave. Returning would not serve either of them, two stubborn souls unwilling to compromise.

The flowers she abandoned in their home were still in bloom when he left that morning, glittering blue and bright as always. A painful reminder of her that he could not bring himself to remove. He swore he’d not chase after her any longer, either, but his will always weakens until it drives him mad and he seeks her out. She's never far; always on the outskirts of the city but he could find that shimmering aether anywhere, and he breaks every self-made rule to get to her.

Desperation, longing. Foolish feelings that only lessened in her presence.

“Hades, you must stop this.”

She doesn't kiss him back, but she doesn't pull away. He kisses along her jaw; one hand a vice grip in her hair and the other pins her body to the wall.

“My answer is unchanged. This is only hurting you more.”

He nips at her jugular, where neck meets shoulder, “Stop talking, Raea.”

“Hades.” She feels him frown in the way he stills.

“Why are you doing this?” His gaze is pained, a hint of wildness disguised in gold irises, “You could be helping. Your creation magic would serve boundlessly towards the goal, you could—” The beginning of the same argument as before, and she cuts him off.

“'Tis not my destiny, Hades. I will not involve myself in stealing the lives of the unwilling.” She crosses her arms. She will not be guilted.

“The only one who is unwilling is you, Astraea! Every other person has made the choice to save the Star. Except for you.”

“They aren’t willing if you’ve given them no other option. To do this or die?” She says, exasperated, “I would rather they get the chance to return to the star, not serve a higher being.”

A stalemate, tension thick in the air. She decided long ago she would not help this plan to fruition. Though she loved the Star with all her being, she would not subject its people to a meaningless death as a last ditch effort. She would die as the Star intended.

He steps away from her, “So much wasted potential thrown aside for the sake of morals,” He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“My morals are what make me who I am. You would change that? Change me, to suit your needs?”

“That’s not—”

“You already implied it, don’t try to lie about it now.”

“In the beginning the convocation thought, with the right guidance, the more… outlandish beliefs of yours could be extinguished, yes.”

A shattering of glass rings in her ears as the last tether holding her together breaks apart, “You always said I was remarkable… pushed me into projects I didn’t believe in…You’ve just been playing me since the beginning, haven't you?”

“Only until I fell in love with you!” The wrong thing to say, he knows it immediately —a fatal blow.

“Goodbye, Emet Selch.” His title drips with venom as it rolls off her tongue, “May the winds of fate preserve you.”

A softwhoosh as the glimmering purple of her aether teleported her away, too far away to sense. He sighs heavily, heading back to the city.

--

He cannot refer to it as home, not without her. Night long overtaken the sky, he's loathe to offer company once again to the empty space in the bed, pillow still fragrant with the smell of spring.

Perhaps had he not been lost in thought, he would have noticed the white and gold tree that had adorned their front yard ever since she moved in was now withered to a ghost of itself; an ugly grey, each leaf falling and dissipating into ash upon the ground. Only after he steps through the threshold of the entrance does he notice the jagged emptiness.

The room was bare now, every last remnant of her gone. No more indigo flowers lining the ceiling, the lack of luminescence leaving the room dark. Every single creation of hers was nothing more than muddled dust.

He lets out a hysterical laugh; a short, crazed sound that he can't seem to stop. His chest heaves as he struggles to take in a breath, regret and grief and ache constricting his own lungs. He would never get the chance to fix what he had broken, admit he never wanted her to change. Grovel and plead and beg her to forgive him. She had played her final card.

She was gone, and he was doomed.

[kylo-wrecked]

@godresembled :// { cont'd from this lovely long-ago post }

—☾—

He was larger than a good deal of things. Perhaps not life nor death, but he was greater than dreams, and dreams were of powerful goêteia.

"You can make life?" Ren asked, gazing into Æther's model of the bright, hot blue star-turned planet. He'd risen mid-way from his seat, and the purple emperors that comprised the wingback chair rustled impatiently because Ren was impatient. They had no inner workings of their own. 

The blue heat rising off Æther's miniature planet shone in his eyes so that they seemed to have the élan vital of the creatures that roamed the Mésos—a reflection of her might, that she could cast life upon Ren's face. Though it was in all probability she was from another world and time, had her kin, and a past unbound to his, Ren understood Æther as one of the firstborn to the house of creation, primordial kin of Erebos and Phanes. 

"What else have you seen in your travels?" 

When he turned his head to look at her his eyes were flat and black. Coins of onyx set in a stony face, the same stony face she'd come to know in her frequent visits to Otherworld.  

"Show me the same way you've shown me your planet."

Epochs had passed since he'd known the pleasure of the worlds beyond his realm. Ren didn’t mention that he had once been a star, hot and blue as the one Æther made into a planet, or that he, long nameless and bodiless, was called Firebird Hollow, and he was known in the Mésos, the Middle World, the Marrowlands, as the Newport astrobleme, a crater in a forest off the coast of New England.