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ladyclwriter · 6 months

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State of Grace - Paul Atreides!AU

I'm not a Dune reader, I only watched the movies. Everything here is fanfiction!

Summary: Paul succeeded at bending most of the noble houses at his upcoming command. You are the leader of a Minor House, Polaria. Spending some time with Paul before battles, you find yourself resonating with Muad'Dib, and your advice to the older boy is: don't let them take Atreides from you.

Longshot, time jumps, platonic, gender neutral reader, lots of high fantasy stuff

*In purple: creation of mine, fanfiction.

The curved walls weren't welcoming, it's dead gray like a panicking hug, differently from the colorful shapes of your planet. You could still remember the suffer of waking up inside concrete boxes, which they called chambers — at your little palace, the place where you'd settle your head to sleep was adorned on silk, feathers, and rainbow furniture. Walking through corridors busting with laughing children, maidens carrying baskets, warriors with swords, elders with it's incenses perfuming the air. Greeting many faces, and trying to remember all of them, was a daily task. You had to smile even when you didn't want to, for there was no time or room for melancholy and paranoia.

And now, you would find yourself praying to find anyone at all willing to even look at you. Irrelevance, how much of a pain it could be. And loneliness was a death sentence to a Polaritia.

After your platoon playing a definitive role at a conquering battle against one of the Major Houses, Duke Paul started to pay more attention to you. He'd discuss attack plans with you, trust your guidance and build teams at your observations.

“They have no reasons, nor power, to come against me” he said nonchalantly to Halleck. “Sometimes the weakest, the smallest ones, are the ones to trust”

You were teached to be trustworthy, but not the one who trust. The Atreides house could hold the power of the Voice now, but forgotten people like Polaritia mastered the ability of listening. You'd spend minutes hearing the Duke's casual thoughts, his worries, his plans and his craziness. From time to time, the boy would talk to himself, lost in visions and ghosts that only he could deal with. You were there, standing like a tree, pretending to not be paying attention until he remembered of your existence again.

The catch is; there was no catch. You were as important as a stone, a tool, your value based on for what the Duke would need you for. And it had to change.

“Your Highness, Muad'Dib” you get on a knee until he pats your shoulder, walking to his own bed.

“Polaris” he says in a casual tone. The title of the leader of your little nation became your name. Actually, he probably doesn't know your name. “It's late. And you don't come to me without a reason. Something bothering you?”

Not that he cared if the answer was yes. You stand straight, hands behind your back, eyes following the skinny man as he sits on his duvets. “I'd like to ask what awaits my nation, Your Highness”

He raises a dark eyebrow. His hair follows his head as it tilts slowly, blue eyes looking at some specific point inside your being. That eerie aura only he could carry.

“You should be clearer, Polaris. That sentence could have different meanings. And I can give you as many answers” yes, he could. Your eyes wander from his, as you inhale and humbly declare:

“I have no interest on your holy visions, Muad'Dib”

His eyebrow is still up as he smile, and nod. For a moment, he's silent, looking at nowhere, caressing his own hands. He nods once more, not talking or daydreaming, but coming to a conclusion. Your heart was beating at your ears, a pressure on your chest as the worst answers come to your mind.

“Your people is amazing at arts, we could make use of some cultural schools. And no one compares to your acrobatics” he's not looking at you while he speaks, making sure his thoughts are being well articulated. “I don't need more worshippers. But I don't need more nobles too”

When his eyes meet yours again, there's a silent question in the air. You were following his logic, and you knew the right answer to give even before he could ask. He knew that too.

He leans back at the bedpost, hands crossed on top of his spread legs. “Can Polaria promise neutrality and loyalty?”

The answer was a definite yes. There was no room for a no. Yet, you keep seconds of silence. Your lips part, and your eyebrows lift slightly. But your face gets back to a plain, obedient expression.

“My people has a deep passion for the colors, for the life” it wasn't an explanation. “With your protection and affection, we would be guardians. Your art, your culture, our enemie's. Not vowed to the House of Atreides, but servants of joy and knowledge. A safe place for the ones interested on nurturing something more than power”

He stay quiet. His eyes go to nothing again. His thumb clashes against the back of the white hand it holds, feet swaying carelessly. It lasts a minute or two, until he looks at you with the most serious face he could do in his sleepwear.

“Isn't passion the biggest of the fuels, Polaris? Wouldn't your House behold a power too high for it's hands to reach?”

You couldn't contain the sparkle in your eyes. That specific feeling at the roof of your mouth, something warm inside your stomach. The smile wasn't at your face, and your voice was cold, but he could see through the etiquette. His own pupils dilated with interest, challenge.

“We are inside a flying machine, Muad'Dib” your hands tighten at your back, and you don't know if you're breathing when he smiles right after you say: “The sky was never a limit”

Ever since that day, for the first time, the people of Polaria had a purpose. The citizen captured the message, and in no time the planet was well organized to be some sort of academic safe haven. The well trained warriors were with you, battling for the Imperium. Your acrobats, illusionists, and alchemists something to be reckon when joined with the Fremen. Your mind was always aligned with Paul's, and even if no one would dare to consider you such, you became an arm of his operation. But, as nothing can be perfect, the Duke of Arrakis would also keep you at an arm's length. You couldn't read the reason, not when he looked so distant and nonchalant every time you two were alone.

Being alone with him was as entertaining as terrifying. He was easy to memorize, easy to decode, if you pay enough attention to the details. The way he would smile at things without importance, or the way he couldn't hide the turmoil inside his mind when destiny obligate him to go against him instincts. Changing weight from a feet to another when about to snap at someone, or his jawline straightening when in the smallest amount of fear.

“You seemed so sure about this. The marriage, I mean” the commentary comes out in a quiet tone, as you don't look at him in respect. “What changed?”

Can I help you in any way? was the question. He kept staring at himself on a mirror, the royal silver outfit contrasting to his disheveled hair. He asked the maidens to leave before they could finish his look. The boy needed silence, and it was understandable.

When he doesn't answer, you look at the floor. “Is it the Fremen woman?” his fingers twitch beside his body. That was enough.

There was nothing you could do about his lost love. Nothing you could do about any of his feelings, at all. So, you stay there, quietly waiting for him to speak up. When he does, the distress wouldn't be detectable. Except for the fact you knew him enough to do so.

“Do you think these clothes look good on me, Polaris?” you don't answer, but your eyes go back to his reflection. He's quiet, and you only know you were supposed to say something when his eyes meet yours.

You swallow words. Compliments and critiques. He reads it. An eyebrow is lift, a silent inquisition.

“I do, Muad'Dib” you say with an uncommon hesitation. You knew he needed more than that. “Personally, I dislike it. The attire, I mean. It... It is the Imperium style, their colors. And... That doesn't feel like you, Your Highness”

He ponders. That was clearly an unexpected answer, but he didn't seem to disagree. “I bet you don't know the colors I used to wear”, his tone was cold. “Black. Dark like tar. In simple attires, thought to represent both royalty and strength.”

Considering the armory, and how he could pull it off, you could picture he looked equally good at those. But you stay quiet, letting him think. “This feels wrong. It's too light, makes me vulnerable to any threat. It's shiny, attracts attention. It's trouble” he was mostly talking to himself. “I'd be dead in minutes wearing this at Arrakis.”

His voice drifts away. He tense up, jaw clenching. Fear. Fear of losing his past. Himself. The woman he truly loves and the people who put him where he is. And his eyes water. Sorrow, grief for what was no longer on his life.

“Duke?” you call out. He hears, but doesn't react. Your chest inflated when you inhale deeply, closing your eyes while doing your best to maintain education. But you decide to flip the coin.

Your steps are purposely noisy when your boots reach the floor. You stop at his front, but not directly, not blocking the mirror. Your gloved hands find his collar, fixing an asymmetric button.

Your skin burns when his eyes are on it, and the air inside your lungs suddenly feels too warm. But you play nonchalant, hands slow, delicate, careful not to break into his walls. “If the worms of Arrakis could see, they'd call you dramatic. That's how I would describe the high houses's style.”

He raises an eyebrow, like he always do when curious or barely listening to you. “In my planet, we dress however we wish to. I, a leader, could wear either a white dress for battle, or a pink armor for a dance. Our streets are almost blinding with colors. It's insane, really.”

Your fingers trace other details of his clothes, fixing slight errors, straightening the shiny cloth. “I can't really see the use of a silver attire. It's brilliant, it's smooth, but... What is it implying? Why is it relevant to an Emperor?”

“I don't see the dramatic part” he comments lowly, emotionless.

“The drama is a whole House have a color to dress. Unnecessary, vain, indeed” after having nothing left to pretend to fix, you join your hands at your back, meeting his eyes with a polite smile. “I know my House is loyal to me and our ideals, even if we are many, and not only a family. We don't need a color or a shield. We're Polaritia.”

He only looks at you, taking what you said with a cherish he couldn't express. A nod, and he turns on his heels, summoning maidens to fix his hair.

Mission accomplished. You eased the tension on him once more, giving him something random to think about.

The days would go on like this. When not on field, fighting, you were wandering around spaceships, fortresses, either busy with the newfound Cultural Center of Polaria, with your own platoon, or, well, making sure Paul Atreides wouldn't go insane. The more battles won and planets conquered, the more his eyes would go hollow blue. Distant, shallow, lost inside his disturbed mind. His marriage with Princess Irulan, the already settled weight of him becoming the Emperor of the Known Universe, while being the Messiah of many people, was draining every single bit of humanity the young man had. And you were there, watching, trying the best you could to keep him sane, alive. To keep him as, well, himself. And it was an agonizing way to live.

That eyebrow wouldn't lift. His jaw wouldn't clench. No half smile, no silent curiosity. At a certain way, it was killing you too. And, hours before the ceremony of his marriage, you decided to step in.

“Excuse us” the maidens didn't question; not after your months of work and lone moments with the Duke. “Your Highness. I'd like to talk”

No answer, as always. He was sat at his bed, hair combed back, wearing a shirt that was being taken care by the maids. You stop right in front of him, determined. “Don't you give me that dead fish face, my lord. I know you hear me. Talk to me, please”

His eyes find yours slowly, emotionless. That makes your whole being shake with anger and frustration. “Sir. Talk to me” you demand. When he keeps staring at you with those glass eyes, blood burns in your veins, and you snap. “I will not stand here and watch you falling by the strings of a fate you didn't choose”

No reaction.

“For fuck's sake, Moad- Paul!” you yell his name. For the first time, it comes out your lips in a shout. “You are the fucking future Emperor of the New Universe, former Duke of Arrakis, of Polaria, Caladan, and countless other planets we raided days ago!” he wasn't reacting, but listening. His eyes weren't on yours, but down. At your moving angry lips. That could make butterflies on your stomach if you weren't so pissed. “You are the first man to behold the Voice. You are the Lisan al-Gaib, the Harkonning bastard who gave us freedom. You are a living legend, a god, a savior!”

You point towards him, you spit your words. None of them resonating within him, neither within you. No, these weren't the titles he needed. These titles weren't him. “Your Highness. Paul. I...”

How painful it would be to watch such a man fall for the manipulation of forces he himself could dominate. You get on your knees. Taking his cold hands in yours, you lay your forehead at his palms. “You are good. I see goodness in you. I see faith, of a million souls. And I see hope”

As you lift your head, the vibrant blue orbs are fixated on yours. His irises shake, switching from each one of yours. A reaction.

“And I see me”

It was true. You've been thinking about that for days, working it in your mind. “I was born to shine a light on my planet. To bring us recognition, greatness. To be Polaris”

He blinks. Just once. Listening.

“I lived under the shadows of a hundred people's expectations. Literally a hundred. That's our population” you chuckle bittersweetly, tears in your eyes. “And it was heavy. It was twisted, torturing. But I had to do be. If it wasn't me, no one would. And it was hard to not lose myself on it. On who they wanted me to be”

You squeeze his skinny fingers on yours, hoping it would convey your empathy, your deep need to bring that man back to life. You did it for yourself, once. And he deserved a chance.

“Paul,” it cascades down your tongue, your lips. Caressing your teeth with a sour taste. “before all of this, you were someone. You were the son of Leto Atreides and Gesserit Jessica. The boy of Caladan”

The stories were clear. And you had to study them, as Jessica required you and anyone near Paul to. “You were a loved son. The light of your parents, and your family, even if too monotone sometimes”

You get up on your feet slowly, pulling him by his delicate hands, and he follows. You lift your chin to the tall pale Duke, and whisper:

“Become a myth alive, Paul. Conquer the New Universe” your voice shakes, and by the warmth in your eyes, you know you had tears. “But, please, don't let them take Atreides from you”

His eyebrows twitch. You gasp, finally having a reaction. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you laugh alone at the way your emotions were overflowing. A hand is lift to the back of your neck, and you don't think straight when your face is against his bony shoulder blade. But you close your eyes, hands at his back, clenching the fabric in it.

He wasn't a friend. Or a companion. But you hug him tight, crying for the lost man whose chin was on top of your head. Whose nose was, now, sunk in your hair.

“The universe will be damned if you get lost” you whisper, voice shivering.

The feeling of his hand running softly in your hair gave you goosebumps. He was certainly not normal, certainly not the Paul Atreides. But he was, at least, conscious.

“The ones unseen are the ones to befriend” his voice is warm, low at the side of your head, reverberating inside your chest. “For in the cold darkness lies the truth of men”

His hand cups the crook of your skull, as he lowers his head to perfectly whisper at your ear:

“Stay with me, unseen one. Help me thread through the shadows surrounding us” it wasn't a command, but it wasn't a suggestion. A whisper to your soul, your beings speaking to each other.

“I will. I will stay with you, Paul Atraides” you whisper against the cloth of his blouse. Well, that was the feeling his believers had. Reverence, hope, submission. You understood it all.

“Thank you” he sighs, sending electricity down your whole body. One of his hands travels up to your cheek, and he looks inside your eyes like a lost, madman. But completely sane, as he whispers:

“I don't think Paul Atreides will exist for long” he admits, melancholy I his tone. “But with your help... Maybe I can have faith in me.”

I watched the movie and I had this sentence in my mind. "Don't let them take Atreides from you". And I had to find a way to put it out.

Please, tell me your thoughts! Every commentary is appreciated.

And to the ones who follow me, sorry for the hiatus. I'm working on some stuff and I promise I will try to finish them this year (lol).

Thank you so much for reading!! Love you all

#paul atreides #dune part two #dune #timothée chalamet #dune imagine #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides x reader #imagine #oneshot #fanfic #taylor swift

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darkhymns-fic · 7 months

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A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Husk used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Amazing how certain people can ruin such things for you.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk, Charlie Morningstar, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 4421 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I caved in and wrote fic for the funny swearing cartoon. Please note that this story contains depictions of abuse and power dynamics, as well as implications of violence. More tags are listed on the AO3 mirror. Grumpy cat man does not have a good time here (or even a choice).

Husk raised an eyebrow as he processed the information that was passed to him. (No, he couldn’t have heard that right.)

He was still cleaning up a shot glass with a less-than-clean rag, but his movements slowed, keeping his eyes level with the princess of Hell who stood in front of his bar. The eerie glow of the wooden walls fell over her hair, coating it in a green sheen that reminded him of poison dripping down the strands. A bitter but familiar taste settled on his tongue.

“…A dance party?” he finally asked her.

“Yes! For everyone in the hotel! There’s gonna be balloons and camaraderie and so much music!” Charlie was bouncing up and down on her toes. If she got any more excited, she’d probably jump straight up through the roof. Not like it would’ve been the first construction hazard the hotel had, or even the last. “It was Alastor’s idea! He said it would be a really good morale booster!”

Not a whisker twitched on Husk’s face, but he could feel the cracks in the glass forming underneath his hand. Another one for the dustbin. “Of course it was.”

Too low for Charlie to hear him, not that he wanted her to. She was riding on cloud nine, which was an achievement for a Hell-born denizen. “I just gotta get all the decorations set up! Oh! And Alastor told me to invite you specifically! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Thankfully, Charlie turned away then—to check up on all those decorations, the bright balloons, and streamers, and what looked like a disco ball (?) up top that was just gonna break the beams of this shack of a building. Because by then, the glass Husk was holding had shattered to pieces.

With a growl, he picked away at the shards embedded in his fur, one by one. Just a few of them were stained in blood, their color gaining a sickly green hue from the glow of the bar.

What a painful way to start the night.

Before anyone had even hit the dance floor, Husk was already shit-faced. But he wasn’t blackout drunk, and right now, that was his ultimate goal. Cheap booze was hardly good for anything else.

He could barely care whatever music was playing—but by the way Charlie was twirling and shaking her arms like an excitable chicken, it must have been some of that new pop stuff Husk never took much of a liking to. Much of the scene was a blur to him, still staying put behind his bar, hoping to be forgotten for his boss’ new…interest.

(Awful to think, but some men craving for freedom, for anything, become desperate. He knew this too well.)

Alastor was doing all he could to encourage the princess with a bleeding heart; holding up his mic to comment on her dancing techniques, to cue applause at just the right moment, always telling her the same thing. “Wonderful! Just a wonderful performance!”

Even so, one could barely call this much of a party. Hazbin Hotel’s guests were so few—still only two total—but that Sir Pentious was also doing some of the dorkiest moves Husk had ever seen, and still falling face-first on the floor despite having no legs to trip over to begin with. Somehow, Angel Dust’s moves weren’t as X-rated as Husk would have expected on any other day. Instead, the guy was lending a pair of hands to Niffty, letting her lead yet still somehow controlling her rabid movements to pull him across the floor, also avoiding any sudden bites she would randomly decide to do.

There were times, also, when he would see Alastor reach out a hand to Charlie. He’d lean on his cane, mouth close to the mic head, humming a little ditty reminiscent of the jazz lounges back when their bodies weren’t made of fur and weird demon magic. It wouldn’t be the first time Alastor danced with the princess, but then an arm would reach out, safely guiding Charlie away from him.

Surprising that the same arm lacked a spear in it, one with a suspicious glint to it that Husk recognized but bit his tongue from ever mentioning. Vaggie’s one eye burned brighter than most firepits, and Charlie, innocent soul that she was, thought her girlfriend was just impatient for another close dance.

“Aw, Vaggie! Did you wanna try the Lindy Hop together?”

Another glare, her and the red demon’s staring contest looking ludicrous underneath the shifting lights of the spinning ball overhead. “Yeah, sure thing, hun.” And then she broke from that gaze, her expression changing to softness as she looked at Charlie in the blink of an eye and just that. It must have been love, not that Husk knew anything about it anymore. “I’ll follow your lead, if that’s okay.”

Alastor kept his smile as they both moved away, slowly pulling back his hand as his fingers curled. But a close listener could hear the static, garbling slowly in a crescendo. No, his boss didn’t like being denied his playthings.

And if he wasn’t being entertained this very second, then he’d—

“Hey, ya gonna join us? This dance party’s not half bad.” Angel Dust leaned on the bar, grinning as he took his usual seat. He hid it well, but Husk noted how his chest shifted with his heavy breathing, using his second right arm to discreetly wipe away the sweat from the fluff. It took all one had to keep up with Niffty, even from a guy who claimed to have amazing stamina.

Crossing one leg over the other, Angel kept up his smile, but it lacked the biting veneer from other times. An honesty that could be seen, even with Husk’s somewhat blurry sight. “I mean,” Angel continued. “If ya feel like sucking off that bottle instead of something with a little more taste.”

Husk didn’t take offense to such jokes anymore (just for show, which he also knew all too well) but he still didn’t move. This was the closest to safety he got. Besides, the bottle wasn’t even empty yet. “Nah, got two left feet. Wouldn’t work out.”

At that, Angel Dust laughed. “Didn’t stop our slithery friend over there! Or even Niffty! Though, uh…”

A quick look from them both showed the tiny Niffty now crawling along the walls, heading for the disco ball and then clamping it tightly with her entire body.

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Think she’s got the hang of it now.”

Husk shrugged. He slid a glass to Angel that was half-full, a motion he could still do even with slightly trembling hands. “Don’t let me tie you down, kid. I’ve seen your moves.” He allowed himself a smile, one he could say he even felt.

Angel took the drink, one that could barely buzz a chihuahua, and gave Husk a smile back just as he stood up. All limbs, and a smile that hid back its usual gleam for fatigued eyes. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I bet I could teach you how to move it.”

Husk could barely count the minutes since Angel left and the party continued. The soundtrack for the dance eventually changed from the generic pop to a swing number—one that Husk could probably mouth the words to if he still had any hope inside him. And sometimes, he did feel it. Staying in this hotel was misery at first until the faces became more familiar, more concerned, and less like the eyes of something that hunted and searched for that moment of weakness.

The music was as grainy as his vision, so heavily textured and straining on the ears that he kept trying to pick it up, even as it changed. The vocals. The soft melancholic chorus in the background. It lacked the instruments of the previous songs. Weird choice for a dance. So much did he focus on it, all while holding a whiskey bottle with both hands because now he wanted some of the good stuff. He stared into the warped glass as he listened for so long that he forgot how there was no safe place for him. Just for a moment, but that was all it took.

A shadow fell over the bar. Over him. He knew who it was. Husk tipped the bottle to his lips and took long, long drink.

“Husker! My dear friend, didn’t you get my invite?”

It was a while before he answered. He slammed the bottle onto the mahogany surface, twisted his lips. Already empty, he needed another. “Yeah, I did. What about it?” Whiskey made him braver, but also careless. “Gotta keep serving the guests, don’t I?”

He heard the familiar chuckle, frizzled and slightly skipping, as if the vinyl had been scratched. “While it is good to see you still keeping to your deal, you have to understand it’s rude to RSVP and then not show.”

He wrenched the cork from his new bottle; wine this time, because this felt like as good of a time to switching things up as any. He watched the mist curl from the opening with all the fascination of a man pointedly avoiding the signals around him. “I am here to anyone that’s got eyes. Besides, I never promised Charlie I would actually dance.”

“Oh? You saying our little princess is a fibber?”

“I’m saying you only hear what you want. All the damn fucking time!” A hard grip, and then, he made the mistake of raising his head to see. (Never look into his eyes, you fool.) “Why don’t you take your dumbass musical project and just shove it along with that stupid mic of yours?! At least then I can just—”

Something tugged him forward. Cold yet hot at the same time, just around his neck and clenched tight. He gripped the bar, claws digging in to keep himself from slamming his forehead into the wood.

Suddenly, his vision was crystal-clear.

The eyes burned into his. Red as the fiery sun over the sea, as the freshly split blood over a forest floor. A grin that was impossibly wide for a living thing, but neither of them were alive anymore, so all he could do was wait for when those same fangs would bite down on something else other than pride. Strange, twisting shapes curled from behind, appearing from behind the Radio Demon, like some demented crown of thorns.

“Silly Husker. That wasn’t a request and you know it.”

Oh, he knew it.

In the chaotic lighting of the room, from that fucking stupid disco ball, to the blinding streamers and balloons, and even a few rave sticks Husk caught Sir Pentious waving around, no one would notice the subtle green of the chains. How they burned into Husk’s neck, rubbing it raw until the fur would fall off, leaving him bruised beneath.

He shook again, keeping himself upright as much as he could. All to not be humiliated again, and this time in front a crowd. They would hate seeing him that way. They would demand Alastor to stop.

But the crushing indignity was too much to endure that.

“Fine,” he hissed out. “Do whatever you want.”

“Why, gladly!”

The chain vanished. Husk was left gasping, his fingers pressed against his throat to feel for any mark. (Just his property and nothing else). But he saw the hand now held out to him, palm facing upward. Those seemingly delicate fingers moved back and forth, and there was the familiar static, the usual dead air, but also…if one could turn the dial just so, the faint cacophony of screams that echoed in the distance, only to be drowned out by grainy noise.

“Shall we dance, dear Husker?”

Any choice he had once, he’d already made a while back.

Husk said nothing as he slid his hand into the other’s, claws carefully dulled to not scratch. He was practically pulled over the bar, his wings flapping in surprise. Red and black feathers circled around them both, and then he was tugged in close, looking up at the man with the smile that had now considerably shrunk—to look charming, almost. But always sharp and ready to bite.

“Now look lively, my dear. It’s as if your feet are encased in cement!”

The voice slid through his chest, like poison once more, carefully given to him in small doses over the years. A hand placed itself at the small of his back, his feet nearly lifted off the floor. An arm kept his wings closed in, so that they couldn’t stretch, like a straight-jacket forcibly put on him. Those wings were one of the few things he even liked about his form here in Hell, even if he sometimes found them to be an eyesore. But nothing else now could catch him from falling.

Nowhere to stabilize himself except in Alastor’s arms.

Anything to make him feel helpless. Vulnerable. Nothing more than a pet.

That’s all he was to him.

Alastor leaned in slightly, moving Husk’s free hand to clasp onto the taller demon’s shoulder. Husk sighed, but he followed through. Resigned. Better to be led through and survive the night without much damage. (Why even fight it?)

Just barely on his toes, and feeling the sharp nails dig just against his fur, they started their dance across the floor.

This wasn’t the first time they did this.

It was easy to fall into the motions. The thing that Husk had to begrudgingly admit was that Alastor was a pretty good dancer. He moved his feet with a grace that could be easily followed, and Husk did so. The trail of a footstep following the other, their hands joined together, leading him to the right or left with barely a pull. And with the grip behind his back, fingers circling into his fur, making Husk swallow hard.

Eyes started to follow them now, even with the awful-as-fuck lighting. He caught a glance of Niffty to the side, how she stopped trying to gnaw on Sir Pentious’ tail as she stared gleefully at her boss and co-worker getting close on the dance floor. He could hear Charlie make her excited little noises of happiness, commenting on just how sweet it was to see them demonstrate to everyone how to dance. Yeah. Sure. Anything to keep the princess oblivious to the rot beneath. At least Husk was sure Vaggie wouldn’t explain much more.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw Angel Dust in the far back. Hard to tell, because the effects of all his drinking were slowly making its way back, his fear replaced by numbness. But seeing Angel’s expression, it wasn’t pity. It was an understanding between two losers at the bottom of the barrel, witness to another form of degradation. Sold souls that could do nothing else but share the pain from across the room.

And then he couldn’t see Angel anymore. Because Alastor suddenly dipped him, so low to the ground that Husk found himself clinging tighter to the demon. His fur stood on end, his hat dangerously close to falling off. But Alastor leaned in close, his sharp teeth just at Husk’s ear, his breath parting the fur as gentle as a caress.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Husk widened his eyes. The music playing in the room, its echoes finally reaching his drunken skull. Oh, this absolute fucker.

The guy’s face really was made for radio.

Alastor lifted him up again, twirled him with barely a thought for Husk, who could have vomited from motion sickness. Wings flapped open, desperate for freedom, only to be closed in again by Alastor bringing Husk close. Another lean, and the song played again, closer, on the speaker that was Alastor’s mouth, with a voice that wasn’t his but that age-old recording.

“A casual stroll through a garden, and a kiss by a lazy lagoon.” Alastor’s grin could be felt against Husk, and how so often was he told how soft his fur was, to touch and play with. “Catching a breath of moonlight. Humming our favorite tune.”

Husk bristled. His claws bent inwards, so close to Alastor’s neck. It would be easy to at least draw blood, right in front of everyone, to show that this demon, horrifying as he was, can still be wounded despite it all.

Except, Husk had already tried that once. Back when the deal had still been fresh.

Alastor turned to face him, his smile so manic, so very daring.

Husk did nothing, instead continuing to listen to the song that Alastor played, dictating their movements. The same song that Husk remembered hearing on the radio so many years ago.

“I want to save all my nights and spend them with you. I love spending all with you…”

It felt like centuries before the party was finally over.

Husk could barely stand to be back behind his bar, let alone in the hotel lobby. The balloons, which half were already deflated, were a fucking eyesore and that damn ball up top or whatever did eventually fall—on Sir Pentious. But if the guy could survive an attack from the Radio Demon absolutely demolishing his ship and half of his egg boys, then it was clear the snake was indestructible.

Maybe Husk was a bit jealous.

He didn’t want to deal with seeing anyone, even when Alastor, finally, finally let him go. Still, their clasped hands lingered, and Alastor leaned down as if to kiss his knuckles, Husk frozen in place at the very thought. And then, fingers laxed in their hold, allowing Husk to pull back, his fur on end and his wings frazzled, the feathers out of place.

The song had long stopped playing but still he heard it, deep in his skull, as if someone had shoved a phonograph there, the horn of it directed right inside his ear.

A quick exit, before anyone could reach him. Hypocritical maybe, but he didn’t feel like voicing his troubles right now. Not when it just fucking happened right in front of everyone, with only one of them even getting a hint of what it was all about.

Alastor and his stupid games.

But even when Husk retreated to this room, he could barely relax. The room was just one in a hundred in this empty hotel, but one that Charlie had been so happy to lead him to that first time. She had pointed to each pillow on the bed and even to all the little mints that were stacked on top. She had even been hyped for the shaded lamps on the bedside table, despite the bulbs long weakening. Overkill, like much of what she did. But earnest, and genuine, and one that truly did see the good in everyone despite how each sinner had earned their keep here.

A complete difference from the Radio Demon that had just materialized at his side, a whisper of a soft, nostalgic melody his only warning.

“Oh, Husker. I didn’t peg you to be an early sleeper.”

Followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

Husk didn’t dare turn. Not yet, not until he reached for the cards in his pocket. They could be as sharp as knives, as strong as wire. He was drunk, and tired, and maybe he was past his limit at having himself played around with in front of everyone like it was all just normal.

But, before he could even pull back his arm, something held him in place. A blink. The lamp in his room flickered, and he caught the antlered shadow on his left wall, grabbing at his own. Of fucking course.

“Bad kitty! And after I let you keep your little toys.”

A quick squeeze and Husk sucked air through his teeth, dropping a flurry of his cards to the carpet. Then a violent turn, and the manacle appeared once more around his neck, the sickening green creating valleys and crevices all over Alastor’s grinning face.

Still, that godforsaken melody kept playing.

Then a pull.

Husk choked. He reached for the links, clung to it, even as they burned off his fur. His wings stretched wide, flapped once and then twice. All he could do to keep his ground.

Alastor leaned his head to the side at a painful angle—unclear if he even felt anything while doing so, or maybe he did because he could, relishing the crack of bone and the rupture of blood vessels. All while he held onto Husk’s leash, keeping it taut.

It wasn’t enough to make Husk shut up.

“You fucking psychopath. What more do you even want from me? I already danced with you! I even let you just… touch me like…” Husk could barely speak, but he glared at the Radio Demon with all the rage and humiliation he felt deep within whatever he had left of his soul. “I know you get off to this shit!”

The demon leaned in close. The sight of it was compressing, losing full shape, covered over with black marks and strange symbols that he had never understood. Antlers grew and took shape, their sharp points reaching out to Husk like an embrace. But, they stopped just short of his face, just over his eyes, making him terrified to even blink.

In corrupted static, the music garbled and off-key, Alastor whispered. “And so do you.”

Husk’s grip on the chain loosened. He gritted his teeth. Fuck. This was it. He was going to die, with his agony broadcasted all over Hell.

Another quick pull, and Husk lost his grip completely. The shadow from behind him had grasped at his wings, stinging in the pain as tendons snapped like twine, and suddenly he couldn’t extend them anymore. Another avenue of possible escape, already taken away from him.

Then he was pulled forward again to the real Alastor, a hand grasping his own, fingers interlaced. Husk trembled. Would the Radio Demon start by breaking his hands, going through each limb slowly until he couldn’t even move anymore?

Alastor pulled taut on the chain once more, straining the metal. But they would never break, no matter how much Husk wished for it. It was close to his face, and he wondered if Alastor was going to bound and gag him, burn off his tongue, so that his screams would have no words.

That is not what happened.

Instead, Alastor took the chain and wrapped it carefully, almost delicately around their clasped hands. Husk grimaced at the touch, burning yet freezing all at once. Alastor showed change in emotion at all. Still smiling wide, the antlers retracted back like tentacles. The discordant melody shifted back to harmonious, no longer warped and out of tune. The record played, undisturbed.

Husk blinked. His eyes moved to their hands, tied together by the chain, before going back to Alastor. “What…are you doing?”

A hand reached for his back, pulled him close until his nose was pressed against the front of Alastor’s suit. A finger pushed against a suspender in what could have been seen as playful, and a thumb rubbed circles into the fur, searching for the skin beneath.

“You’re just lovely when you dance,” Alastor said so softly, just against his ear. The teeth nipped just so slightly, tugging at his fur, at him. Husk shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from fear. “And the night is still so young.”

His wings still ached from the sudden clipping of his feathers, and his hand was half-burned from the links pressed against his fur. Even so, he didn’t step back. He felt his feet just almost leave the floor, their bodies pushed even closer than before in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

And he even used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Husk’s body felt like a rag doll, pushed and pulled to go wherever his owner wanted. The chain kept them bound, even if it was already connected to his neck. In the quiet of his room, they slow danced to what had once been one of Husk’s favorite songs as it played in its vintage soundscape.

It was nothing new at all. In fact, it was very much the usual. The playing of an old ballad or a jazz rendition when Alastor was near him. The subtle brushing of knuckles against his own when walking by. A quick pat over his head. A tug of his ears, done so lightly that Husk sometimes wondered if it was imagination. A patting of the shoulder, the hand lingering just a moment too long. A finger rushing down his side. Even a delicate pull of his tail. After all, Alastor would tell him, it was just so very soft.

Husk had pushed back at first. He had groused and cursed, hating to be ridiculed. He still did so now, like the fucking genius that he was, the current pain in his wings reminding him with glee.

Sometimes, Alastor would laugh and be on his way. Other times, not so much.

Husk forgot that he couldn’t pick his battles—for there was none he could win.

He gritted his teeth, letting his body be swayed, shivering at the hot breaths along his neck. The dim lights of his room swam in his vision, and soon, he was falling more against Alastor, pulled in by warmth that could turn scalding at any moment.

(Perhaps dancing was what cured the loneliness, in a way. He really was pathetic.)

He looked to their joined hands, engulfed in green that seemed all encompassing. Then he stepped in something wet, tracking it in the carpet. Too apathetic to the thought that they were dancing out patterns with his own blood.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening,” sang Alastor, in that same recorded voice. But also, Husk could hear Alastor’s own, as if the demon was singing along in his own private booth for his loyal listeners. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

Husk breathed carefully, letting himself fall quiet. When he made his deal, he was never promised he’d understand the Radio Demon or his motivations. He knew, in the end, that he didn’t want to anyway.

The night blurred, until the pain had all but numbed, and their song was all he could hear.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

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purble-turble · 4 months

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So i was looking through the general tags and i ran into that 'if the various Red Sons played Smash' and it was said that TTRed would favor Kirby specifically because he's still trying his best to 'declaw' himself and all- and i was thinking like- Mei would ABSOLUTELY be down to aid this endeavor, figuring its a pretty healthy coping mechanism compared to others and just-

LOADING him up on cute things. it's a pain in the ass to get him to ACCEPT any gifts, but when she wears him down he USES them because he doesn't want her to feel like she wasted the money and effort to help him with his 'domestication' attempts, so he's out of here with the fucking Pom Pom Purin backpack and other various trinkets that she could get away with foisting onto him

Haha oh I had forgotten about that ask! But yeah Time Travel Red Son attempting to get into cutesy stuff as a way to NOT be like King Red is a freakin great idea!

I imagine it starts out small, like when Red is asked to pick what color straw he wants or which arcade prize to get and he finds himself just deliberately choosing one that’s pink for the mere reason that it’s the exact opposite aesthetic that DKR had. It’s not necessarily cute on purpose, just worked out that way. After awhile Mei notices first just because she super duper loves cute things and, before his future adventure, Red Son seemed to either dislike that style or at least thought he was too good for it… so yeah Mei gets excited about this particular change and decides to take it upon herself to make Red Son Super Cute™ from now on!

The only problem with it is.. Red still doesn’t like it. Not genuinely. He forces himself to make those choices almost as a reflex, desperate to have any difference between who he is/wants to be and the monster he saw in the future, even in just superficial ways like having a pink Pom Pom backpack…… well, he thinks, at least Mei likes it, and if she wants to pick out some cutesy accessories for him, then that’s fine. It’s good to to have her make choices for him, right? The less agency he has the better.

…MK notices this shift much later, probably after Red’s already carrying around his blueprints in a pom pom backpack. He doesn’t fully know how this happened until he spots the six or so chibi dragon keychains that he knows whos responsible lol…. Anyway he has to have a talk with a pouty Mei in private about if, instead of pushing him to like the things that they like, they should instead try to get Red Son comfortable with just being himself, even if it means going back to being a dorky edge-lord. Mei is disappointed, but agrees Red Son should make his own choices from now on….. she still foists cute things on him once in awhile, but the initial deluge that happened definitely stops lol

#ask #spicynoodleshipping #demon king red #time travel #I love the idea of TT Red being this messy raggedy boy with haunted eyes and also a cute pink backpack haha #love this ask haha thank you #vegalocity

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emerxshiu · 6 months

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FORGOTTEN LAND'S SECOND ANNIVERSARY :3

I AM SOOOO BACK

I started this drawing yesterday around afternoon and finished it just a few minutes earlier.

I went with a messier type of drawing instead of more clean like the elfilin one from yesterday, i find it fun doing it like this, mostly cause i dont have to worry about making it perfectly so i dont get as frustrated as normal. Id place this one as my second best digital drawing. im pretty sure i havent posted what i consider my best digital drawing here, tho i do have it in instagram, i might post it here one day, tho these two are way too tied up, i love how this came out, its not exactly like how i imagined it but its really close to it, and also itd say that since i dont tend to play around lighting that much, this was such a joy to draw and i cant help but stare at it a lot, at least until i start hating it because i made quite a lot of errors. i also changed my elfilis gijinka just a tad bit from last time, but its not that big of a difference, mostly.

ofc i had to draw elfilis for forgotten land's anniversary, i tend to deny it in my head but yeah they're my fave of the kirby characters even tho i hate them a bit. I wanted to draw some more doodles, like, elfilis eating cake, kirby car, a bunch of other stuff (not elfilin cuz i already drew him yesterday) but when i tried i couldnt draw anything more, guess this drawing burned me out a lot, huh?

you can definitly tell i spent all the efforts on him cuz if you look a bit closer to the bottom part you'll see its almost barely detailed, but i mean, they're the focus so make sense i guess for me not add that much detail there. um also, maybe because i dunno i had OVER 130 LAYERS jeez no wonder firealpaca was slowing down so much, i need to manage my layers better next time, tho i did do something i keep forgetting, wich is naming them (most of them at least) that was a real life saver

Also, antares (fecto elfilis' spear/cadaceus), as always, was a pain to draw, but this time its probably been draw the most accurate out of every other drawing ive made with it in it, i didnt notice it was like, a little curved when it reached the blade

some close ups since his face is a bit hard to see

silly :3

fun fact! actually, this is technically a redraw, somewhere around between february and march i started a fecto elfilis drawing for the first anniversary, but i couldnt finish it in time, and i never finished it

thats...quite the improvement! (i remember being so proud of it)

also his wings are like that cuz i did not want to draw the pattern, its way too hard, i literally copy pasted it, wait, i was talking about the 2024 version but i looked at the 2023 one and i just noticed it also has the pattern copy pasted, i guess some stuff never changes since i still abuse the ctrl+c ctrl+v to this day

Also i ended up making a huge error there, i was planing to add the phantom spears from orbital pulsar (the attack he does first when you battle them at lab discovera) but theres an innacuracy, when they do the attack, they always close their eyes, i had actually sketched him (well i mean both these drawings are basically the first sketch (2023) or second sketch(2024) with some color, shadows and lighting. i didnt do lineart in the 2024 one cuz i wanted to be a bit like the og i made (too bad i sketched that one with black since the og was sketched with white due to me drawing the bg first)) with his eyes closed but them decided to make them open for a reason i cant remember, maybe i thought itd look nicer? idk

ive had the idea of redrawing this for quite some month now so it was kinda already planned

background cuz i think it came out really pretty

doesnt have the little stars since without elfilis and the structures it looks fucked up. the actual sky in game is more blue, but the clouds have some orange, in the 2023 ver. i made the sky orange, and in the 2024 ver i wanted it more accurate, but i didnt wanna loose the orange sky, so i did a gradient. pretty...

also here's a screenshot i took when i was like halfway trough it, its barely noticeable but i changed his mouth in the final drawing

I really love katfl, like a buncha whole lot, its basically almost my first mainline kirby game. 100% the demo, finished the game in almost one day, i literally play it monthly, like, every month i put the card in my switch, start it up, get morpho sword, and go shred elfilis in lab discovera. i would probably not even be here on tumblr and the kirby fandom if it werent for it. and i love it so much i genuinly cannot express how much i like it and treasure it with words or anything

Thank you for reading my unnecesarily long rambles lol

I hope i'll post tomorrow and dont forget like usual

Jambuhbye!

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truths33k3r4 · 5 months

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CHAPTER 28 - An Un-Sound Mind

Murky black morphed into overwhelming, piercing white as Don’s vision steadily began to return. The growing ache in his shoulders were revealed to be two sets of large, gloved hands dragging him through the first dimly-lit corridor. His ears were echoing with a screeching hum as he once again was pulled back to consciousness. He tried to blink away as much of the sleep crusties in his eyes as he could, despite it making little difference given he still couldn’t SEE. That makes planning one’s escape and taking notes of surroundings just a bit more difficult.

I bet Raph’s got the seeing thing covered.. Knowing that flame-head he probably fought off the sedative far quicker than I did..

Don got a little worried by how much concentration he needed just to turn his head. His mind still lagged, and his body still felt unreasonably heavy and uncomfortable to move.

Ughh.

Don slowly turned his head to face the guard on his left. The only human traits of his captor were their two legs, two feet, and their head. Anything else regarding the features of their hair or the color of their eyes was concealed behind their reflective helmets. Instead of looking into the face of another person- another soul, the only eyes that met his were his own mirrored in the reflection of the man’s helmet.

While Don stared at the faceless soldier, his eyes quickly fell on to the design of their gear and armor. Thanks to the guard’s close proximity to himself, his infuriatingly blurry vision only partially distorted their image, making it easier for him to study the fine work of the man’s armor. Its sleek design and firm material moved with ease as the man walked. All the seams stayed pressed and tidy. Not a button was loose. It was excellent craftsmanship.

Of COURSE it is- look at the size of this place.. Pretty sure whoever’s in charge can afford giving his guards quality gear.. I should probably make some alterations to ours when I get back.. Maybe I would have enough saved up by then to be able to-

His words echoed painfully back to him like a slap to the face.

‘ ..when I get back.. ‘

This is not some vacation or a WEEKEND GETAWAY.

He and Raph are prisoners.

.. And the chances of them returning to their home are slim at best. That isn’t fear. That’s fact.

Nevermind that- Focus. Raph is most likely awake now, if he hasn’t already been for the past few minutes.. I don’t hear any struggling, but if he got hit with the same stuff I did, then his body must feel heavy too.. I can hear footsteps behind me. Most likely Raph is being carried by two more guards..

And then a new problem arrived at the door of Don’s brain:

HOW THE SHELL AM I GONNA COMMUNICATE WITH HIM? I can’t speak. I can’t reach him.. How-

Almost immediately a childhood habit reemerged from the forgotten corner of his matured mind.

Don inwardly groaned to himself.

That’s self-demeaning.. But it just might work.

As quietly as he could manage- cause he still had some dignity - Don sounded the tiniest of chirps; a sound he had not made in more than ten years.

Before he was taught how to speak, this is how the brothers would communicate to each other. Raph, Leo, Mikey and himself would sound an assortment of clicks and chirps, each in different orders to translate to specific messages.

Click- chirp - click ~ “ Are you ok? “

Chirp ~ “ Hey “

Chirp - click ~ “ Yes “

Click - click ~ “ No “

And so on.

The refreshing nostalgia that washed over Don with the memories of his childhood was quite welcomed in the situation he had found himself in. But with the joyous feelings of memories long past, comes the sadness of the fact that those times are, indeed, OVER. In fact, he was so lost in the past that he failed to pay attention to what was occurring in the present. Like if Raph even heard or answered his call..

Deafeningly silent minutes passed as Don’s anxiety only grew. The jingles of his chains no longer swayed, but shivered. He could feel the same painful ache in his chest infect his heart as it had throughout his teen years.

Now’s not a good time for a panic attack, calm down.

In spite of his clear refusal, Don’s body continued to betray him. Theories in his mind began to transform into worries; What ifs.

What if Raph’s not here?

What if they took him away to some other lab?

What if he’s in another city entirely??

What if he’s being tortured as I just sit here being blind and USELESS?!!

NO. STOP IT. FACTS, DON. You don’t know where he is. BUT there’s a possibility that he’s literally right behind you, just unconscious. And if he’s asleep, then of course he wouldn’t answer your call.

The jingles of keys snapped Don back to the situation at hand. He raised his head just as he and his captors reached what appeared to be the final door at the end of this eternal hallway. Thankfully, moving his body was slowly becoming an easier feat.

Guess the sedative is finally wearing off.

As one of the guards fumbled with the set of keys, Don took the opportunity to take one last look around.

Why the shell did he use the word ‘ last ‘ ??

What if it was.

Ochitsuke, Don. THAT’S ENOUGH.

To Don’s right, a pane of see-through glass stretched across an entire wall, revealing the inside of another room. He tried to peer through, but his blurry vision once again became a hindrance. He had to squint and grimace to even begin forming the floating blobs into a recognizable image.

Something.. was kept upright. But the angle of the something made him think it was being held up. He could see that the something was mostly consisting of a pale green color as well. His confusion only grew when he noticed what appeared to be a large growth coming out of the something’s back. It was rounded, and covered the length of its body perfectly-

And then it hit him.

That something was a turtle. A turtle LIKE HIM. And the only other turtle like him in this nightmare lab was Raph. And if that’s RAPH, then what the heck happened to his skin?!?!?? The shade of it was all wrong. It was misty and faded- not vibrant and healthy like his own.

He wanted to cry out. To scream to his brother. To make sure he was ok. To make sure that he was ALIVE.

He could try to run. Attempt to save him and his brother from this nightmare. Or just try to get a closer look to see if there was even a brother to save anymore.

The decision was made for him as he was pushed through the now open doorway in front of him. He yanked and tugged and fought, but the grips on his shoulders stayed firm. Even so, he continued to try to elbow and kick at his captors, aiming always for the areas he knew would cause the most pain. His actions were harshly cut short with a single blow to the side of his face. His ears rang so loud it gave him a headache, pulsing and pressing deep into his mind. The nausea that came with the disorienting hit made his whole head go limp, hanging lifelessly as he tried to keep down his dinner. His cheek began to swell, burning with a reddish- purple bruise, and the fresh tears falling from his eyes stung as they trickled down his face.

Raph.. I’m sorry.

As he watched the door close behind him, he kept his eyes on his brother’s faded form till the last second. Then he was pulled to the floor and tied down by the cuffs and chains restricting his wrists. They locked into place in a slot on the ground, pulling him down to his knees. The room smelled dank and the cold, dirty ground dug into Don’s shins. His wrists ached from the abnormal pressure and weight.

But despite all the pain flowing freely through his body..

.. all he wanted was his brother back.

Without knowing if Raph was ok, Don’s mind could only guess. Estimate. Hope.

The room’s aura deepened into a chasm of fear and anxiousness as all he could do was think. His fear constricted him worse than any of his chained cuffs could. His anxiety weighed him down far below the floor he was already kneeling on. His doubt yanked and tugged at his thoughts relentlessly until they went to places he didn’t want to go.

The thing about having a strong mind is.. It can turn on you. Like the monster from Frankenstein, the thoughts you give life to will eventually have a will of their own. And if you’re not strong enough..

.. it will consume you. It will control you, beginning with your thoughts, and ending with taking full control of your body.

Sensei had noticed the power of Don’s mind when he was a kid. But not just on the technological side. He noticed Don would overthink things. Become super anxious if he were left to his thoughts. When one of the brothers got sick, Don would hide in his closet praying like a warrior. Not for his brother’s health, but for his own. He would stay up all night, not looking for remedies for his ill sibling, but instead searching for ways that he could make his body an impenetrable fortress against the germs. And when he became a teenager, things didn’t get much better. If anything they got worse.. He just got better at hiding it.

Eventually, Sensei pulled him aside and told him about the dangers of his mind. How easy it is to become a slave to your thoughts. An empty shell, always worrying, always afraid. How if he didn’t learn to hold truth in his heart, then the lies his mind would create would roam freely, taking full control.

Don didn’t understand all those years ago.

Now he’s beginning to. Here, in this dark cell, held down not by his chains, but by the overpowering grip of his mind.

Sensei’s words echoed in his heart.

‘ Remember this, my son. When worry begins to pull things apart, never forget to speak truth in your heart. 2 Timothy 1:7, “ For God has not given you a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and of a sound mind. “ ‘

A sound mind.

A.. sound.. Mind..

Sound - which means reliable or Sensible. Well, it seems my brain is quite reliable when it comes to solving diverse equations AND creating worries.

Ok. Let’s try this mind that is sound thing.

Don did his best to get into a less- uncomfortable position on the ground as he took a long breath.

Or as long as he could make it, that is. Which was like two seconds, but it was close enough.

Breathe..

He closed his eyes and harnessed all his focus into keeping his thoughts at bay.

Lord. I am scared. I know You already know that, but I will still communicate it.. I am scared and I don’t know what’s happening to Raph- but I know YOU do- You know all- You’re omniscient, which means that You know all, but ANYWAYS. I um.. I know You have Raph in Your hands right now. I know You’re with him. Please, God.. Please keep my brother safe. I don’t even know where we are- but AGAIN- I know You DO, so I really shouldn’t worry- but I am- cause my brain is being stupid right now- but uhhh please- please Lord- help us to make it back home. Alive preferably.. That’s not sarcasm! Just being honest- I’d really prefer to not die today- You’ve seen my list- there’s still so much that needs to be done in the lair- And I’ve already lost so much time being here- AGhhhhh I’m so bad at this. Which You.. already know.. Cause You made me this way.. And I know You still love me- despite my blatant faults and failing to do the simplest of chores… Aaand there I go again.. I’m sorry- my brain just won’t stop- yes, that is my request- Please, Lord, help me to have a sound mind. Help me not to have a spirit of fear. Uh.. A- amen.

Don let out a frustrated groan as he rubbed at his temples. He flinched at the tenderness of his bruised cheek as his hand skimmed over the fresh bruise.

“..D - don? “

A familiar voice strained from the far corner of the cell, making Don flinch something awful to the sudden noise in the silent room.

Don twisted his head as far as it could turn towards the dark corner where the voice emanated from.

Even with blurred vision, Don knew it was his twin.

“ RAPH!!!!! “

That's it for this chapter. :) Not sure if you can tell- ( I truly hope you do since its spread out all throughout this chapter ) but Don deals with anxiety. The kind that pulls you to silent, dark places. The kind that doesn't ever let go of your brain and thoughts.

In my Biblical Study of Anxiety, I am learning how imperative it is to speak truth in your heart. " Don't fill your heart with what if's, but instead truth. " And I wanted to explore this with poor Don here. XD Worry and fear have been a huge part of my life- just as much if not more than my faith. But slowly, I'm learning to let go of the lies I tell myself. I'm learning to give all my fears and worries to God. And it's hard. It's very hard to let go of control. But the peace I have found in Him- It is indescribable. And I pray that this chapter will touch hearts- and help them to see there is a way out of your anxiety. There is hope to quiet your noisy soul and mind. :) And giving it all to God is a good first step. :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #my version of tmnt!!#the strength in weakness #SIW Don #anxiety #panic attacks #speak truth in your heart #anxious Donatello #capture #captive #bible verse

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quibbs126 · 4 months

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hi hi! could I request a Pitaya Dragon x Dark Cacao fan child? an example of a name might be dragonfruit choco, which my friend came up with for this ship they came up with. their dynamic is two big guys with swords and anger issues that are besties but also maybe more??? :000

oh and snapcube sonic and shadow

I only realized now that there was a suggestion for the character. Sorry about that. Anyways, this here is Dark Sapote Cookie

Also one thing to note, I basically had Dark Sapote finished months ago. I think you can tell by the way their lineart doesn’t entirely match what I do now. Literally all that was left was the sketch, which I did today. There’s another fankid in that boat, so she might get posted today too (among others that I just have forgotten to post)

But also on top of that, it’s been a good while since I’ve thought about Dark Sapote, so I may miss some stuff

Anyways, on to Dark Sapote. They’re half dragon and live in the Dark Cacao Kingdom. They have a more dragon like form they can transform into, though it’s more of a drake than a dragon, and they don’t turn into it often. They’re technically an heir to the Dark Cacao Kingdom throne, but they don’t do much of anything, so they aren’t really considered such. They also choose to live outside of the Citadel in a cave somewhere

Dark Sapote is extremely chill and often very sleepy, to the point where they’re pretty lazy. However, this isn’t entirely due to their nature, but rather due to the temperature. Because the kingdom is so cold, their body’s essentially in a low power state, as they subconsciously are in a brumation state, but also aren’t reptilian enough to actually go into it, so they’re just stuck like this. And they specifically have this problem because Pitaya is from a tropical and more fiery climate, and Dark Sapote inherited biology for a warmer climate, not a colder one. No one is really aware that this is the reason Dark Sapote is like this, not even Dark Sapote themself

In higher temperatures, they become more active and energetic, and in addition they become more powerful. But because they live where their power is dampened pretty much all the time, they don’t have the best grasp on their full power. If they were to go to say, Dragon’s Valley, they’d likely unleash mayhem with their uncontrollable power. Not quite sure how they haven’t encountered this problem yet, but whatever

They grew up in the Dark Cacao Kingdom simply because they liked Dark Cacao more than Pitaya, but they kind of all unwittingly created this giant problem for Dark Sapote, leaving them in this state

Anyways, on to the design

So Dark Sapote is a name I’ve had on file for a long time, after I discovered the existence of black sapotes, which is what they’re based on. Black sapotes are a tropical fruit like pitaya, and apparently when ripe, they taste similar to chocolate pudding

Black sapote:

So to look for things to say on their design, I watched the time lapse video Procreate makes, and now I remember, Dark Sapote was hell to design. And if I’m being honest, I think the rough sketch is the best version of them

They were apparently originally going to have horns or a crown of sorts, but I decided against it or it just didn’t work. Side note, but I need to give my characters more accessories, especially in the hair. That’s how they end up looking so plain

Their hair is supposed to be the same between the sketch and the final design, but you can’t really see it with the pose. Apparently I tried other hairstyles that would make it visible but for some reason I decided against them

Their side hair thing is supposed to be from Pitaya, with their side bang things, but I don’t think I executed it super well

The colors on the armor were such a pain, mostly because Dark Sapote has so many dark colors, making them all blend in with each other and the black lineart (I only color it at the end once colors are finalized). That was what made me shelve them for so long, because I couldn’t get them to look right, until one day I came back and was like “yeah good enough” and colored the lines, and then left because I was out at the time

Also the colors themselves aren’t the most appealing. The green and brown come from the fruit itself, but they aren’t the nicest to look at

To be honest, I think Dark Sapote needs another shot at a design. The final product isn’t the worst, but it definitely could have turned out better. And also, I like their character

And yeah, that’s Dark Sapote. If you see a redesign of them later on, don’t be too surprised. But regardless, I hope you can enjoy them in some capacity

#I need to figure out how to make them look better #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #pitaya dragon cookie #dark cacao cookie #fankid #fanchild #cookie run oc #dark sapote cookie #my OCs #my art #requests #answers

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ch3rriewine · 2 years

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Pink in the night ♡ {R.L}

summary: Remus drunkenly confesses his feelings, romance ensues

warnings(?): 1.6k words, idk like fluff, loosely based off of the mitski song "pink in the night", little bad idk how i feel about this one, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, reader has hair long enough to be tucked back lol, reader has a cat:D, remus is a cutie as always, remus is a clingy drunk, theyre at a party and drinking alcohol, like one mention of a weed smell, the time it takes for the pain meds to kick in is a tad unrealistic but it's fiction so who cares, i'll add more when i think of more

authors note: ahhh!!!!! second fic thing idk tell me what u think :p also tell me what else u want writing wise im trying to write more

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Remus needs to talk to you, even standing near you would be great. You might as well be glowing pink, and the alcohol makes you look no less than a ray of sunlight. In a little black dress and some kitten heels, you stand close to Emmaline. That dress does wonders for your already lovely self, he thinks. You arrived a little later than everyone else, so you only had a few sips of some cocktail in you. He stumbles over to you, okay maybe he's drunk, not tipsy. Still, he managed to get over to you. Your perfume hits his senses and suddenly he’s forgotten why he’s over there. Oh yeah,

“Hey” you speak up first glancing at him with furrowed brows accompanied by a concerned smile.

“H-hey!” he yells, maybe a bit too loud, over the music. You're still smiling, now it’s not in concern, it's in fondness. He hopes you never stop.

“Having fun?” you chide, cocking your head a bit to the side. The smell of vodka and a small hint of cologne is eminent on him.

“No, not really” he slurs his words ever so slightly, grinning the smallest bit of pearly whites showing and something glinting in his eyes that you can't quite place.

Small talk ensues, and then he starts following you around the flat, chatting about nothing. Soon enough you're sat on a couch that smells faintly of booze and weed with Remus playing with a small lock of your hair. The strands twirl through his fingers, he seems oddly entertained by it, how much alcohol had Sirius given him?

“Rem, you look tired, you wanna stay the night at my place?” you ask, worried he’d pass out in this sticky mess. It’s only a friendly worry, not I secretly want to take care of you because I like you a whole lot worry, totally not.

“If it’s not too much of a hassle, sure” he mumbles, apparently too tired to speak up. Thankfully, your flat isn’t that far within walking distance. You two eventually make it back with no problems, other than Remus would occasionally trip on nothing. You lead him to your couch and sit him down, he’s already half asleep and he doesn't notice you taking off his coat for him and his shoes. You drag him back onto his feet and lead him to your bedroom, a lot harder than it sounds when it's a six-foot drunk man you're dragging. He plops down onto your bed, sighing at the feeling of your blankets and pillows surrounding him. You get a glass of water and some paracetamol on your bedside table for his oncoming hangover, then leave to change into your pajamas. He slowly assesses your bedroom, your bookshelves, the color of the walls, to your photos hanging up. It’s so you, everything just fits in perfectly with your character. You emerge from your bathroom changed and cleaned.

You're so lovely, he thinks. With your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, you make your way over to your bed. “Get some rest, please, you had a lot to drink” ending your sentence with a small smile. That damn smile again.

“You’re so beautiful” he admires while sitting up, his face flushed from the alcohol and maybe something more. He eyed your lips with hazy eyes. “I really like you, as I think of you all day, it's hard to get stuff done. I really want to kiss you right now.”

“You’re drunk, get some rest and drink water” you insist.

“I’m serious!” he presses “you're so lovely” he sighs and falls back down onto the mattress.

“Scooch” you push him lightly so he moves over to the other side of the bed. “You won't feel like this in the morning, you're drunk.” you look into his eyes in the dim room, his dark brown irises looking almost black in the dark.

“I will,” he says before closing his eyes “I always will”. After a while, his breathing deepens and he's snoring lightly. He was saying that you were the one that was beautiful but look at him. His fluffed-up yet put-together hair, his bushy eyebrows, and the small, sparse freckles dotting his face, I mean come on. You fall asleep with your body turned towards him.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Remus awakes with meowing in his face. He blinks his eyes open slowly, looking at the black cat staring back at him. It was a small thing, with big yellow eyes and a pudgy figure. For a moment he was incredibly confused, he didn’t have a cat. He looked around to find that he wasn’t in his flat and he had a raging headache. His head was pounding and the shrill meowing wasn't helping. He looked over to his left seeing you. You were so peaceful like this, hair a mess, face completely relaxed, and hand resting on his chest.

He put the pieces together, he was in your flat after Sirius’ party, God did he say anything weird? Being too tired to think about it, he looks to his side to find water and some paracetamol. Downing the water, he turns toward your cat. Sashimi, he thinks is the name. Sashimi is sitting at the end of the bed now waiting patiently for his breakfast. Remus would feed him if he knew where you kept the cat food, so he has to wake you up. He dreads it, he'd rather not take you out of your peaceful state, but it’s for your son, as you call him.

“Hey, your cats hungry” he shakes you awake softly. “I'd feed him but I don't know where the food is”

You mumble something incoherent into your pillow, rolling into it. He laughs. That stupid, gorgeous laugh. “Ugh ok, I’ll feed him,” you say, not putting in any effort to get up. He rubs your arm comforting, the paracetamol already taking its effect.

You fight off the sleep still in your system and sit up. “Ok I’m awake, stay here if you want” Finally sitting up and getting out of bed. You smooth your hair, trying to salvage your appearance in any way possible. He follows close behind, walking out into your kitchen/living room, actually getting a good look at your living space. Your fake plants, your photos with your friends, and even a photo of you two. The photo is slightly blurry with you on his lap laughing wildly at something he said, a quaint smile spreading across his face at your reaction. It’s cute. He remembers that night, the party you guys were at, the smell of your perfume, the glitter coating your eyelids, the heels you took off halfway through the night, everything about you he remembers, yet he can't, for the life of him, remember what he said to make you laugh that hard.

The sound of a can opening pulls him back to the moment. Your cat meows at your feet, incessant with his demands for his breakfast. “Here you go, sweet boy,” you say to Sashimi while plopping the wet food into his bowl. Crouching to pet the cat’s soft fur, you turn your head and smile at Remus. “You want to go out for breakfast? There's a diner right around the corner.”

You sit opposite each other, him still in his alcohol-smelling clothes from the night before and you in sweats and a tank top with a flannel thrown over. The coffee is burnt and the bacon is too salty, but you couldn't be more content, what can you really expect from a diner whose main consumers are people like you, fighting hangovers with greasy food and coffee. “How're your eggs?” you ask, still kind of groggy.

“Rubbery,” he says around a mouthful of said eggs. “How’re your waffles?”

“Eh, they're ok,” you say moving your cut-up waffles around the plate with your fork, mind occupied.

“Are you ok? Something on your mind, lovely?” he asks. Of course, he can tell when you're out of sorts. Stupid, smart, amazing boy.

“You said, uhm, you said something last night.” you say “I just-I’m just thinking about it” you give him a small smile.

Oh God, what did he say? Did he mess it all up before he could even make a move? The poor boy looked mortified. It all came back to him, shit. He really said that to you? Drunkenly no less?

“I’m-I’m so sorry, genuinely. I was drunk and wasn't thinking and I should've expressed myself in a better way! I'll make it up to you! We can forget I said it or-” he rambles on.

“Did you mean it? Do you still feel the same way?” you stare at him anxiously, waiting for an answer.

“Do I-what?” he stares dubiously “Of course I do! How could I not? I meant every word I swear.” he takes your hands in his. This is all happening in a corner booth of a run-down diner, by the way. How romantic.

“Can I kiss you now?” he says, sincerely. Remus Lupin wants to kiss you, what a dream.

“Mhm,” you nod leaning over the table already. He laughs, shaking his head, then winces as his headache is coming back. You chuckle a little, it’s endearing in some odd way. He meets you halfway, putting a hand on your cheek and rubbing small circles with his thumb. His lips meet yours softly, just barely brushing over yours before you take the notion to deepen it. He smiles into the kiss, grabbing your face with both hands now. You break away after a while, smiling and on the verge of giggling like a schoolgirl.

“I think I didn't do it right,” he says tucking hair behind your ear "Maybe I'm still a little bit drunk," a knowing smirk ghosted his mouth.

“Oh yeah?” you question him.

“Yeah,” he nods “Can I try again?” a kiss “and again?” another “and again?” one last for good measure.

#remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #young remus x reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #marauders #marauders fluff #marauders fic #remus my babygirl #marauders era

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multi-lefaiye · 8 months

Text

the birth of a son - short story

oh my god i forgot to post this here. anyway this is the short story i wrote recently about my boy eden <3 this is a lil thing all about the first time he summons/creates his homunculus, eddie!

eddie is a physical manifestation of part of eden's soul, in the form of a little imp with sharp lil teeth. he's cute <3

this is based in the original campaign eden was created for and specifically mentions the other players towards the end!

anyway. uh. i feel a bit awkward tagging the whole art taglist for this one oops, so i'm just gonna tag some folks i think would be interested :'> (no pressure to any of you to read this <3) (if you'd rather i not tag you in stuff like this, pls let me know!)

@skitzo-kero @anexor @moonflowerrss @paradoxspir1t @albatris @invaderskoodge @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs @corvus-rose

After slipping away from the rest of his ragtag little group at breakfast, it takes Eden around twenty minutes of searching before he finds a spot in the fairgrounds to practice his magic.

He’d thought it would be easier, but it seems that everywhere he turns, someone on the staff is there, taking up valuable space while they mingle and chatter. They all seem nice enough, sure, but the consistent lack of privacy has Eden’s skin prickling with unease.

Of course, in the back of Eden’s mind, he knows he hasn’t had true privacy in some time now. Perhaps he never will again.

(He absently flexes the fingers of his right hand at the thought, feeling white-hot sparks of energy crackle between them.)

But now is not the time to dwell on that.

Soon enough, Eden finds a place to hide, a small nook behind one of the larger tents. Separated from the outside by a thin, beaded curtain, it’s hardly much at first glance: just a low bench with red cushions, a single table, and a lantern bathing the space in a warm, flickering light.

This must be a place for performers to wait for their turn to go onstage. It’s decently comfortable-looking, after all, and just out of sight. Or perhaps it’s somewhere for crew members to take a break, sipping a drink away from the hot sun. Maybe it’s-

He’s getting off-track. Who fucking cares what it’s normally used for? It’ll do for his purposes, and that’s what matters.

Eden lets the curtain fall closed behind him and takes a seat on the bench, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knees as he sinks down. The cushion is thick and comfortable, sinking only slightly under his weight as he gets settled. It almost makes him uneasy for reasons he doesn’t know how to articulate, but he chooses to put that out of his mind. That’s not important.

What’s important is the gem hidden in his pocket, a glimmering black opal. It’s small, only a little bigger than a marble, but it’s worth more than its weight in gold. If he were so inclined, he could sell this marble and, presumably, live comfortably for decades to come.

(At least, that was what that ringmaster fuck had told him when Eden had explained what he needs for this spell. He isn’t sure how much he trusts that fucking freak’s assurances on anything, but that’s not the point. Like the room and the strangely disquieting bench, the marble will work for what Eden needs.)

Eden takes the marble out, staring down at it as he rubs it lightly with one clawed finger. At first glance, the gem’s surface is smooth and inky black, but as he stares closer he sees flecks of other colors hidden in the darkness. Shining yellows, vibrant greens, burning reds, icy blues, and dozens more all swirling together. It’s beautiful, Eden supposes, but he’s never been a particularly good judge of that sort of thing. It almost reminds him of-

The thought dies a swift death before it can finish forming. He needs to stop stalling and letting his mind wander. He has work to do.

With that in mind, Eden holds up the opal, allowing it to catch the light from the lantern, and closes his eyes. Then, in a low voice, he begins to speak, the long-forgotten words falling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

As he speaks, he feels the gem grow warm between his fingers, vibrating as each word washes over it. All at once, the air in the alcove seems to warm by several degrees, the air around Eden’s head swirling and churning with potential. Eden’s breath slows, and he opens his hand, allowing the opal to float slowly upward. He says the words again.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

There’s a loud crackle in the air, deafening in the otherwise silent space, and something deep inside Eden’s chest aches. His heart is pounding behind his ribs, a trapped bird desperately trying to escape its cage, and for one brief, hysterical moment, he fears it’s going to burst. But rather than frighten him, the knowledge only sends a thrill through him. And he says the words again, one more time.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule!”

As he says the words one final time, his eyes fly open, glowing white, and watches as the gem pops. He feels a burst of agonizing, searing pain in his gut, strong enough to make him double over and bite back a shout, as the opal shatters in a shower of white and gold sparks. The flame in the lantern snuffs itself out, plunging the little nook in darkness, and all at once the air is still, silent, and cold.

Eden lets out a shaky breath. The pain is beginning to fade, but he rubs his abdomen for a moment nonetheless. It’s never hurt that much to perform this spell before, but he chalks that up to how long it’s been. After all, he last summoned the creature when he was still in university, finishing his doctorate.

“Doc?”

Eden lifts his head, eyes wide as he stares at the little creature sitting on the table before him. It’s small, just enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and looking up at him with its head tilted to the side. He can’t discern its features in the darkness, though, and that just won’t do. Almost unconsciously, Eden lifts a hand and snaps his fingers at the lantern, willing it to light again as he casts produce flame. It does so with a flash of gold, and once again the room is bathed in low, warm light. Despite that, it feels strangely cold.

He hardly notices, though, instead turning his attention to fully regard the creature looking up at him--his homunculus.

The homunculus looks different from how he remembers him, but at first it takes a moment for Eden to figure out what’s wrong. He looks mostly the same. Small, bipedal, with hind legs like a rat. Two nubby horns. Pointed ears. Mop of curly golden hair, hanging just past his tiny shoulders. Bat-like wings, connected to his forelimbs the same way. Sharp claws. Round, humanoid facial features. Short tail. Fluffy-

It’s then that it strikes Eden what’s wrong. The homunculus is covered in a fine layer of lavender fur, only broken up by patches of scales on his face and legs. That’s new.

The homunculus blinks at him, then smirks wryly as he tilts his head to the other side, like a puppy. “What’s wrong, Doc?” he asks, his voice just as high-pitched as Eden remembers. “You forget how to talk?”

He’s just as rude as Eden remembers, at least, and the realization is such a relief that he laughs, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“No,” he says, “I was just making sure you didn’t come out dangerously deformed this time. You’re no use to me if you die after five minutes.” The homunculus scoffs, offended.

“I’ll have you know, any problems in my physical form are your fault, as the alchemist in this situation,” he says matter-of-factly. “You should know that, Doc. That’s the first thing they teach you at that stupid magic college. Or did you lose your fuckin’ brain cells when you graduated?”

“I can send you right back,” Eden reminds him, reaching out to flick the little creature. “Don’t sass me, brat.” It’s an empty threat, and it seems they both know it, if the way the homunculus’ eyes light up are any indication.

“Yes, yes, go ahead!” he squeaks, flapping his wings as he swats at Eden’s hand. He seems to be balancing well, not swaying even slightly as he bats at Eden. “Waste the precious resources you used to summon me!” Eden reaches around to poke at the homunculus’ back, grinning at the indignant squeal he receives in response.

“Motor skills look good so far,” Eden hums thoughtfully. “And, clearly, not existing for 634 years hasn’t done anything to your cognitive ability.”

“Why would it have?” the homunculus drawls. “You look like you’re doing fine.” If he’s surprised to hear how long it’s been since he was last summoned, it doesn’t show on his face.

“Fair point,” Eden agrees. He knows the homunculus is created from the essence of his very soul, so perhaps it isn’t too surprising that the little freak is doing just fine. After all, occasional aches and pains aside, Eden’s been remarkably unaffected by his own resurrection. Though… if the creature came from his soul, is that why it’s covered in fur this time?

Perhaps the curse has more of a grip on me than I thought.

It’s a disquieting realization, but Eden puts it to the side for now. He has more pressing concerns, like catching up with the homunculus.

“Things have changed since you were last here,” he begins, reaching out one hand. The homunculus has the audacity to look offended, rolling his eyes as he climbs onto Eden’s outstretched palm.

“No shit,” he says. “For one thing, you look--and smell--a lot more like a corpse than usual. When’s the last time you took a shower?” Despite his grumbling, the homunculus gladly clambers up Eden’s arm, digging in his tiny claws to keep his balance, before settling on the tiefling’s shoulder. “And when’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“Fuck you, I’m perfectly fine.” Eden flicks the creature’s nose, smiling as the homunculus nips his fingers in response. The creature’s teeth are sharp, but far too small to cause any more pain than a slight prickling sensation. It reminds Eden of a teething puppy.

“Anyway,” Eden continues, “that’s not the point. I’ve been… traveling, let’s say, so you’re gonna have to get used to that while you’re sticking around.” He can’t imagine that’s going to be a problem--the homunculus is a notoriously adaptable creature. Really, all the creature needs is food to eat, a place to sleep, the chance to relieve himself on occasion, and the presence of his creator.

“Eh,” the homunculus says, “that’s okay. Didn’t think you were the adventuring type, but whatever.” He’s making himself comfortable on Eden’s shoulder, curling his tail around himself. “That why you smell bad?”

“I don’t smell bad,” Eden says. He moves on before the creature can protest, shifting his stature automatically to account for the additional weight on his shoulder. His joints ache at the movement, but he ignores them. “Anyway, I’ve also been doing a lot of fighting. There’s a lot of things that want me dead, turns out, and we both know that you aren’t built to handle a situation like that.”

“I could be,” the homunculus offers. “I could bite the shit out of someone. I could kill them. I could disembowel them with my powerful fangs-”

“You couldn’t bite through the skin of an apple without help,” Eden tells him. “Stop lying.” In response, the homunculus bites his neck, only serving to prove Eden’s point as the action prompts nothing more than a snort. “You’re not helping your case here.”

“I hate you,” the homunculus grumbles. “You’re the meanest alchemist alive, Doc.” He settles down on Eden’s shoulder, curling up like a little kitten. “You’re so mean to me, your only son.”

“That I am,” Eden agrees, ignoring the way something in his chest flutters at the homunculus referring to himself as Eden’s son. He’ll have to remind him not to do that. “Anyway, we’ll have to figure out a plan to keep you out of the fray the next time a fight happens, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The homunculus hums in agreement. It seems the creature’s initial burst of energy is waning, and now it seems to be growing tired.

“Anything else, Doc?” the homunculus asks. “Or can I take a nap? Being born is very tiring, you know.” Eden hesitates briefly before he answers.

“Well,” he says, “I’m traveling with some new… friends. I should give you a primer on them before you meet them, so you don’t embarrass both of us.” The homunculus lifts his head to shoot Eden a dirty glare. Before the creature can protest, though, Eden continues. “Look, I can already tell some of them are going to adore you, you annoying shithead, but the other ones would probably gladly swat you like a fly if you get too close.” At that, the homunculus’ eyes widen in unease.

“You have bad taste in friends, if they’d kill a piece of you that quickly,” the homunculus tells him gravely. It’s Eden’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Stop being dramatic,” he warns the creature. “I just mean that you’re an annoying little gnat. If any of them wanted to smack you for it, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop them.” That doesn’t seem to offer the creature any comfort, but he nods.

“Okay,” the homunculus says. “Alright. Tell me about them. I need to know which ones to avoid.”

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, telling the homunculus about each new ally in order of meeting them.

Pevier, the gentle aasimar. Naive at times, sometimes frustratingly so, but full of a genuine desire to help and do good that Eden can’t help but admire. At times, Eden believes Pevier doesn’t deserve to be here, but he supposes that just speaks to the cruelty of the world they’re in. It may be impossible to do forever, considering the threats they face, but Eden wants to protect that naivete, if he can.

Hyndrol, the sharp-witted elf. Clever and quick on her feet and with her words, trading barbs with Eden with an ease that makes him feel remarkably at home just as much as it drives him up the wall. He can tell she has her secrets, but he can’t exactly begrudge her that, all things considered (after all, they’re all hiding one thing or another). She’s loyal to the end when it matters, for better or for worse, and he respects that.

Barley, the cursed tabaxi. Unlike anything Eden has ever seen in his life, with a charming smile and a ferocity boiling just beneath the surface that has him deeply curious. Eden genuinely cares about what Barley thinks of him, much more than he has with anyone in a long time, and the realization makes him deeply uncomfortable. He can’t quite escape the feeling that he’s not measuring up, no matter how hard he tries.

Strata, the powerful dragonborn. Tall and brutal, overwhelming in her strength and awe-inspiring to see in action, and remarkably intimidating even when relaxed. Eden normally wouldn’t put much thought into the feelings of someone he’s known for such a short amount of time, but he can only imagine how strange this all is for her, a literal fish out of water in a world that thinks her kind is extinct. He admires her strength, physically and otherwise, but he’s sure the feeling isn’t mutual. No matter. As long as Strata stays with the group, Eden can accept her disdain.

And, finally, James, the mysterious elf, the newcomer. Dark and intriguing, cloaked in shadow despite his generally friendly demeanor. Eden still isn’t completely sure what possessed him to approach the stranger with the offer of joining them at the circus, aside from sheer impulsiveness and a need for someone to want him around, but here he is nonetheless. He seems decent enough, but… well. Time will tell how poor that decision turns out to be, Eden supposes, but if nothing else, he seems like a good ally for now.

Predictably, most of the nuances of Eden’s relationships with his new friends go over the homunculus’ head. All the creature cares about, of course, is how easily he’ll be able to convince each of them to pat his head and give him apple slices.

“You’ll get to meet them soon enough,” Eden sighs. Absently, he lifts one hand to stroke the creature’s back, smiling despite himself at the ragged little purr he receives in response. “And you can get started on your diabolical scheming to kill me in my sleep and take my place.”

“Sounds like a plan!” the homunculus chirps, nuzzling his hand. “Give it a week! They’ll like me better in no time.” He then yawns. “But… wanna sleep right now. We can meet ‘em later.” He closes his eyes, making himself cozy, and then reconsiders after a moment, opening one eye to look at Eden curiously. “... No. Sleep now. Then food. Then friends. I haven’t eaten in 600 years.”

“You haven’t existed in 600 years,” Eden points out. “You haven’t had a stomach to feed.” The only response he receives is a quiet little snore, and he huffs a sigh, rolling his eyes fondly. Still, he settles back into the bench, letting the creature snooze on his shoulder.

He can find everyone again later. For now, he can just enjoy some peace and quiet with his creation.

#multi makes text posts #Multi's Writing #eden linnaeus #doesn't use eddie's name in here but trust me. that's who this is. lil guy of all time

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copias-sewer-rat · 1 year

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THE BLOOD DROPPING FROM THE DARK ROSE IS ALWAYS THE SWEETEST.

Around 5K words, this is a big one for me. We get to meet new characters and Copia being caring and very cute. The plot is plotting. (I will probably revise the grammar and stuff the following days, so sorry for any kind of mistake.TW: Abuse of power by a member of the Catholic church, mentions of abuse in general, a bit angsty, mentions of blood. ⸸read on ao3⸸ ⸸masterlist⸸ Enjoy!

III - Dream On

The beeping from your alarm woke you up on Tuesday. You had not slept that much. Flashes of memories old forgotten were coming back to haunt you. You had dreamed about your parents, your room and of the pastor. It had been a while, but you could still remember their faces very clearly. It were as if they had been burnt into your retinas, always watching you when your eyes were closed. The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

The dream itself was always the same, so much so that it was even a memory. Hands forcing you to your bed, the face of the pastor on top of you, smiling, mocking you. His name was Father Lawrence Tebbit. You could never forget him. The same prayers and passages from the Bible were spoken to you over and over again. Tears always pricking in your eyes and your pleads forever falling into deaf ears. Your parents were pinning your hands, not letting you escape the bed. Father Lawrence then climbs on top of your tiny chest, his legs restricting you. He shows you his cross and you try to look away, but his hand forcefully pulls you back to look at it. He shouts at you as your feel you breath quickening, the oxygen is leaving your lungs and you pass out to wake up back to reality.

Deciding to not entertain your painful memories anymore, you pushed the alarm back five minutes to think about which were your expectations for the day. Your number one priority was to finish the sketches from the Cardinal’s order and to get his approval. Yesterday, you got the main structures planned, now it was time to think about the distribution of colors and lengths of the flowers. After the confirmation from the cardinal, you needed to let Matty know about your final decision and at which time you would go for the flowers. Then you had other things. Again a couple of bouquets and start thinking about one of the wedding’s arrangements.

However, the most pressing matter in your head was to answer to Cardinal Copia’s pigeon picture. You had been thinking about it a lot before falling asleep, finally deciding on something cute, not corny and also a bit daring on your part.

Claire🌹: “Those babies are adorable! Thank you so much for showing them to me, I appreciate it. I hope to get regular updates of them. I want you to be my personal National Geographic cameraman, Cardinal.”

Without giving it much thought, you sent the message. You received a response almost instantly.

CC: “It will be my life’s duty to protect those pigeons. I swear to you they will be safe with me. I just hope my rats don’t get jealous.” There is a pause and then you realize what he is implying.

Claire🌹: “Wait… You own rats?”

CC: “Yes, they are very cute and also amazing pets.” You cannot believe what you are reading, you have loved rats ever since you were a kid. Ratatouille was only a boost for your love of the creatures.

Claire🌹: “YOU ACTUALLY DO!? I love rats, they are the cuttest! I have never met someone who owns a pet rat.”

CC: “Rats, plural actually. I have three. It is a pleasant surprise to find another rat enjoyer, there are not many like us around. However, due to your love for pigeons I assumed that you had to like rats as well.”

Claire🌹: “A gold star for you for your deduction skills⭐. You are pretty observant!”

CC: “Thank you, Claire. It is a nice feeling to feel appreciated. It does not happen to me much around the Ministry.” You heart sinks a bit hearing that. You have nothing but a good opinion of the Cardinal. Even if you didn’t know him that well, you saw how caring and responsible he was. There was not a lot of people like him.

Claire🌹: “I’m sorry to hear that. I am sure there are plenty of people who appreciate your work, even if they don’t say anything.” It takes a while for the Cardinal to text you back. You were hopping for a longer message, some more information about him. So, when your screen lit up you felt a bit sad.

CC: “I hope so, truly.” You needed to move the conversation to the professional side, even if you did not want to.

Claire🌹: “Now that I have you here, I also wanted to tell you that today you will be receiving the sketches I was telling you about. There are a couple more I want to finish so you have plenty to choose from.”

CC: “Oh, that is perfect then. Maybe it will take me a bit to decide, I am sure all of the drawings will be great.”

Claire🌹: “Let’s hope you do so before tomorrow. It is when I will be picking the flowers up to start the arrangement. It is going to be a lot of them, are you sure none of your band mates has allergies?” It was a very normal question to ask, but you felt a bit silly after sending it. Maybe it was because those masked people, who you supposed were the Cardinal’s band mates, were not… normal.

CC: “No need to worry about them, they are not allergic to flowers.” You were sure that he wanted to say something different, but that would be oversharing, and you were a stranger.

CC: “Also, if you need help picking up the flowers I offer myself to be your assistant for the morning.” Your eyes widened. You were sure that he was a pretty busy man. Why would he help you with something so trivial?

Claire🌹: “I am sure you are quite busy preparing everything. I wouldn’t want to cause any troubles.” You did not want to admit it, but now that he had offered to accompany you, you wanted nothing else that yo spend the following morning with him. Who knows? Maybe you got to know him a little bit more.

CC: “Nothing of the sort, cara. I will tell my brother Terzo to cover for me tomorrow morning. He is pretty familiar with all these preparations, but I will owe him a favor… that could go in any direction.” Now you felt a bit bad.

Claire🌹: “You seem conflicted. I can do it myself, Cardinal. Maybe I was just being a bit dramatic… that’s all”

CC: “If you said it, then it is true. Don’t try to diminish the weight of the task because you think it might be a bother to someone. At least with me you don’t have to do that, Claire. It is okie-dokie to ask for help.” You let out a breath you did not know you were holding, it was so easy to talk to him. And yet, he was able to read you like an open book, and that scared you… a lot.

Claire🌹: “I really appreciate that. I always get scared to be a burden, so I do everything myself. It is a bit tiring sometimes.” You didn’t know were the sudden burst of honesty had come from. Copia was really good at breaking your walls.

CC: “I understand. I am the same. If you want something done the correct way, better to do everything yourself, sì?” He truly understood you.

Claire🌹: “Exactly! Well, when should I pick you up tomorrow then?”

CC: “mmm… what about 9:30? Is it a good time for you?”

Claire🌹: “It is perfect. Do you want me to pick you up at the abbey or somewhere else?”

CC: “The abbey is fine. Do you know where it is?”

Claire🌹: “Not really… I don’t pay that close attention to religious buildings.”

CC: “Then you are missing out on a beautiful piece of architecture, Claire! Let me send you the address and I will wait for you at the entrance.”

Claire🌹: “Perfect! And do not turn off your phone! You still need to choose a sketch!”

CC: “It will be my number 1 priority, do not worry.”

Claire🌹: “I thought your number 1 priority were the pigeons…”

CC: “Mi dispiace! You are right. Then my number 2 priority, but it is very close to be number 1 eh! Do not think ill of me.” It felt like he was taking it so seriously, you laughed to yourself.

Claire🌹: “I was joking, Cardinal. I know that you are a professional. Those pigeons are lucky to have you as their guardian.”

CC: “Worry not! I will be the pigeon protector! It will be my most important title!” At this point, your stomach was hurting of how hard you were laughing.

Claire🌹: “You are so funny, Cardinal. I needed the laugh, thank you.” Again, there was a pause. You wish you were talking to him in person, get all his reactions, catch every glimpse of his eyes.

CC: “No worries, I am glad I could be of assistance. I have to go now, I have a meeting to attend. I will be waiting for you tomorrow then, and also for the drawings. Have a nice morning, Claire.”

Claire🌹: “You too Cardinal!”

The conversation was over and with it came a feeling of emptiness. It was so nice to talk to someone who was willing to listen to you. Maybe the Cardinal felt the same, but you could not be sure.

It was still early enough for you to get a coffee near your shop, so you decided to do exactly that. You dressed yourself in a comfortable way, today you did not need to meet a high member of the church. The choice was clear, your mom jeans, a big shirt with a skeleton dancing on one side, your favorite hoodie and your white boot Converse.

The morning was sunny, a bit windy so the hoodie was a good choice to make. The streets were awfully quiet as you drove to the coffee shop, which conveniently was on the same street as Dewdrop.

The coffee shop was actually a dream come true, at least one of the many dreams you had when you wanted to start a business. If you had not been a florist, the next idea in line was to be a barista. It was white on the outside, with a sunset orange sign that said “The Rest and Be Thankful Coffee Shop”. There was also a big wooden sign on the sign, those that you only see on old taverns. It was a carving of a mug with some steam coming out of it and some embellishments, probably custom made, but you were too afraid to ask.

The owner of the coffee shop, Sam, was a friendly woman to everybody except for you. She did not give you the gentle smile that gave everyone else, or made small talk with you. The coffee was always excellent, but you felt like you could be great friends if you got to talk. She had short dark blonde hair, piercing green eyes and a smile that could start a war. Once you entered, the sweet aroma of toasted beans and baked goods hit you and transported you to your personal heaven. The store was mostly empty but for two costumers sat on tables at the back. Savoring the ambiance of the establishment, you decided to get the usual, a latte and a croissant, which was made also at the coffee shop. Sam took your order, but while she was talking she spoke to one of her assistants.

“Are you sure that it was not fixed?”

“Pretty sure, boss.”

“What an arse! I have been complaining to him about it for months!” You just realized that Sam was Scottish, what a surprise.

“I will try to go to the committee later and see if they tell me anything.”

“Aye, please. If I trip again on it I am going to burn the committee building to the ground. Then they will listen for sure.” You remembered a very big hole close to the coffee shop, that was the thing they were talking about, for certain. Maybe this was your chance to befriend Sam.

“Sorry to interrupt. I could not help but overhear the conversation. Are you talking about the big hole just outside?”

“Aye. The chief of the committee won’t do shit. I have been complaining for months, but I cannot do anything unless they approve the permit.”

“I can help if you want…” Sam and her assistant both looked at you with a puzzled look.

“Pardon?”

“I can help. I helped the chief with a flower arrangement for his daughter’s wedding. He owes me one.” Sam’s eyes widened as you spoke.

“You are the florist! I knew your face was familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where for the life of me.”

“That’s me! You can call me Claire.”

“Certainly a pleasure, Claire. I am Sam.” She extended her hand over the register and you shook it with a smile.

“The pleasure is all mine. As I said, if you ask for it, I will go to the committee building and ask for the favor.”

“You would actually do it? Why? It would certainly help you to be owed a favor by Mr. Shack in the future.”

“I find a lot of peace in this coffee shop, it would be a shame for you to go to jail for burning the committee building.”

“Oh, you are kind and funny. I like you. Just so you know, if I ever committed arson… they would never catch me.” That little remark made you laugh. A genuine laugh. You have probably laughed more these last couple of days than you have in years. The realization makes your heart hurt a bit.

“Oh, I am sure. You seem like the type of person that thinks every step of the way.”

“True, as do you.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Claire, I have seen you sitting here writing lists of pros and cons…” You felt your ears turn red with embarrassment. “It is not a bad thing , Claire. You just like to see both sides before you make an important decision.”

“Guilty. I promise I will talk with Mr. Shack later and try to solve your little hole problem.”

“No problem. Even if you don’t get him to pass the permit…” There was a heavy pause. “Thank you for trying at least. You are a good person.” As she spoke, Sam handed you your order.

“What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It is on the house. And I will need your number so you can update me on the mission.” Sam gave you a genuine smile and you gave him one back, you had actually made a new friend.

“The mission, huh? Let’s call it operation Cobra.” The name did not convince you, but all the good names would make you look bad.

“Maybe too cliche fro my taste.” You handed her your phone with the new contact screen. “Operation Butt Crack?” She was on your wavelength, amazing.

“Fun and a bit childish, I love it.” She handed your phone back. She had saved her contact as “Sam🍑⚡”. You called her so she would have your number as well. She then gave you a thumbs up.

The store was a starting to pack and a line was starting to form behind you so you said your goodbyes to Sam and her assistant and promised to update her later in the day on Operation Butt Crack.

You sat at your usual spot, close to the window so you could see all the trees outside. Fall was starting to show itself thought the last days of summer and you were glad. Now it was the perfect time to finish the sketch for the Cardinal. You thought of the best position for the flowers, where to put the longer ones and how the colors would coordinate when put together. An hour passed and you felt like you got it. It was done. You were beaming with happiness and without thinking too much took a picture and sent it to the Cardinal. You hopped for a quick response, but then you looked to the last message. He had a reunion, he would not see your message for now. The time to open store for the day had come, so waved Sam and mouthed that you were on your way. She smiled and waved energetically.

The stroll to your store was short but sweet. Some of the tree leaves were falling at your feet and as you step on them you heard a very satisfying crunch. There it stood Drewdrop, always charming and beautiful. It was a slow day overall, few clients that actually bought anything expensive. The majority of the day was spent finishing arrangements. It was quite late, time to close, and you still had not received a message from the Cardinal. You were worried a bit, but you would not tell him that. It did not matter for now as you had a mission, it was time to begging Operation Butt Crack.

————

The building that contained the subject of Operation Butt Crack should be inside working, or at least seeming like he was doing so. You told the woman at the entrance who you were and that you wanted to see Mr. Shack and she responded that he was very busy with a meeting, but that maybe he could talk to you afterwards. However, she did not know when he was going to finish. You told her it was fine and went to Mr. Shack’s office.

It was quiet, everybody had packed up to go home and you were aware of every sound that was happening around you. You head the buzzing of the fridge, the cicadas outside lingering to the last remaining rays of the summer sun, the leak of a heater… and a conversation. You did not want to eavesdrop, but it was so quiet. What were you going to do? Put your hands on your ears like a child who did not want to hear her parents arguing? You knew better.

“The reputation of this good Christian city is going down the drain.”

“It is good that I am here then.”

“I asked specifically for you because of your reputation, Father Tebbit.” Your heart skipped a beat. You could not believe what you were hearing, or rather who. “I want them out. Use whatever means necessary. That Satanic Church mush go away. You understand?” You had to go, you had to tell the Cardinal, but you were frozen.

“I do. I want the same Mr. Shack. Devotees of the Dark Lord should not roam free or be without divine punishment. I am here to provide that.” There was a lot of poison to his voice, which made you even more scared.

Tears were falling down your cheeks, your brain spiraling out of your head and your heart beating so fast you thought it was going to come out. The adrenaline must have hit at the right moment because you started to run. You were so focused about getting out that you had not noticed the office door opening. Father Tebbit only saw your outline going down the stairs, but he could swear that you looked familiar.

Once you were out the building, but you needed to get far away, you could not risk it. Tebbit had come to the town to get rid of the Satanic Church Cardinal Copia was a part of. You knew what he was capable of. He had done it to you, day after day for a year. He was an expert cleanser. Such were his methods that even the Catholic Church had reservations about him. Father Tebbit leaned more towards the cultist side of the church, much more aggressive and “holy”, as he liked to tell you. You were sure he remembered you. You were the reason why he had to use a cane.

One time that you were trying to escape your parents’ house, Father Tebbit had come without invitation. He had said that it was just to check on you. You did not want to risk it, so you hid behind the door and with all the strength your little arms could harvest, you put a heavy box of books on top of it. You were hoping for it to fall of Tebbit’s head, it instead landing on his left foot. He had developed a chronic limp ever since and had to use a cane. The design was pretty telling and you remind it well. He used to hit you with it. He said it was because it helped to get the demons out, you knew it was because of revenge. The shaft of the cane was entirely black, the handle was a ball of amber, and inside there was a wasp. Tebbit had explained that it was a symbol, a symbol of his power to contain evil, to make it stop. You thought it was bullshit.

Once you were far away the committee building you took out your phone. Hands still shaky, you tried to message the Cardinal. He had not answered to your sketch yet. You had no other choice but to call. You needed to keep it together, to sound serious, it was a very serious matter after all. Each tone was a nail on the coffin, a clear sentence of you inability to sound collected. It took eight long tones until the Cardinal picked the phone.

“Buon pomeriggio (good afternoon) Claire. I am sorry I could not answer sooner, but I am currently in an important meeting. Is everything okie dokie?”

At this point you were fully crying again, so you put your hand on the speaker, hopping the Cardinal did not hear you sobbing.

“Everything is okie dokie, Cardinal.” You said with a shaky voice. “I was just worried because you had not seen my sketch yet…” Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. You were bothering him. It was an stupid idea to call him, so stupid.

“You…are crying.” Your tears stopped suddenly, it was like he was watching you. Maybe you were not as good as a liar or as an actor as you had hopped. “Where are you, cara?” He sounded so serious, his voice dropping. You could almost see the frown on his face.

“It is nothing reall-” You could not even finish your sentence.

“Not again, cara. Not with me, remember? All that bothers you is important, if you need help is okie-dokie to ask.” You started to cry again.

“I-I need h-help.” You managed to say between sobs.

“Where are you?”You had not even notice, but your sprint had taken you to the local park. You told it to him. “I will be there in fifteen. Stay there.”

He hung the phone and you were crying even harder, missing his voice. There was a bench close to you, it was hard and cold. The sun was starting to set and you were feeling so vulnerable. The face of Father Tebbit was in every cloud and every tree, laughing at you. You were a stupid girl if you thought you were safe from him. You had the sudden urge to run away, start a new. You must have been thinking quite hard because the nest thing you see is Cardinal Copia kneeling beside you, opening your hands. They were bloody, probably done by your own nails.

“Cara, look at me. What is wrong? Are you well?” His hair was a bit all over the place and he was sweating. Copia had run to get to you as fast as his legs could take him.

“I am not. S-someone dangerous is coming to get you, Cardinal. You and your church. He is a putrid human, evil and corruption ooze from him...”

“Claire, I don’t understand you…” His eyes sparkled with worry thanks to the last rays of sun of the day and you let out a dry sob.

“There is a man named Father Lawrence Tebbit. He tortured me when I was a child. He is here, and has been assigned to destroy your church.” Your voice was so calm, the tears were still falling, but there was such a calmness to your voice that the Cardinal seemed worried. His eyes widened, he tried to keep calm for you. While he waited for you to speak again, he was drawing circles on the back of your hand. “He is very dangerous, Cardinal. He won’t only destroy you, he will erase your existence from this town. He can do it, he has the means.”

“This is a very serious issue, Claire. I need you to tell me everything you now. First, however, we need to take care of your hands. Do you have medical supplies in your apartment?” You nodded slightly. “Can you take me there?” You nodded again and Cardinal Copia helped you get up. Your legs were shaky and the Cardinal waited until you moved for him to do so with you. Slowly but steadily you took him to your apartment.

————

It was so dark until you flicked the light. It had scared you once, the dark, when you were a child. You were afraid of being scared of it again.

“Where is your first aid kit?” The Cardinal asked. For a while his hand had been placed on the top part of your back. You were grateful thought, without it you might have fallen.

“Bathroom. Behind the mirror.” You said, and the Cardinal let you rest against the wall of your hall. You heard as he fidgeted with the mirror. Something fell and he cursed in Italian. Then, he rushed back to your side.

“Let’s sit you down and then I will cure your hands.”

Your apartment was a mess, but he did not care. Your face was a mess, but he also did not care. He helped you sit on your couch and then he sat right next to you, preparing the alcohol and some gauze.

“Mi dispiace cara (I am sorry darling). This will sting a bit.” He removed his gloves to avoid them getting stained with the alcohol. His hands were big, with long and firm fingers. The Cardinal meticulously cleaned the marks on your palms. You hissed at the painful sensation, but at least it meant you were back to your senses a bit.

After putting some clean gauze on your hands, the Cardinal stood up to throw the bloodied ones in your kitchen. He was gone for a second, but somehow he managed to come back with a glass of water.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” You gave him a slight polite smile.

“Call me Copia, per favore (please).” You blushed a bit.

“Thank you, Copia.”

“Prego (you are welcome).” He smiled back at you. That is when you truly felt safe for the first time since you had heard Father Tebbit’s voice.

“I am sorry for causing you so much trouble, Copia.” You muttered, lowering your head.

“Don’t be sorry about that. You were afraid and seemingly angry. Please explain everything to me so I can understand properly.” You nodded.

You told the Cardinal bits of your childhood. Not the worst ones tough, you were not ready to talk about then. You explained enough for him to be aware of the weight of the situation. Tebbit’s character, what drives him, his large web of connections to violent people… You also told him a bit about your parents and how you ran away. His expression was kind and patient. Nonetheless, as you continued speaking, you could see his brows sinking more and more. Lastly, you explained what you heard, how Mr. Shack had hired Tebbit to get rid of the Satanic church that resided there. The expression on Copia’s face tried to be understanding, but you could feel his anger.

“I am not lying, Copia, I swear.”

“I believe you, cara. Do not worry.” He finally said. “I need to get back to the abbey and explain what you just said. Will you be safe here?” Copia rose from his seat.

“I think so, Tebbit does not know where I live that I know of.”

“Va bene (it's good), for now that should be enough. And I am sorry, Claire, tomorrow I won’t be able to accompany you to pick the flowers. I will send a couple of my ghouls with you to get them. They will pick you up here, at the time we said.” You wanted to go with him though, you decided to keep your desire to yourself.

“Okie dokie, Copia.” You nodded. The Cardinal was turning away from you, putting his gloves back on and heading towards the door. Then you remembered. “Wait. I know it is a bit anticlimactic… you still need to get my sketch approved.”

Copia stood there, in the middle of your hall. He faintly smiled and nodded back to you. You went back to get your sketchbook, a bit nervous. You wanted for Copia to like the drawing, it would balance everything bad out. As you got back to Copia, he was sending a text message. He would probably need to give a lot of explanations when he got back to the abbey. You handed him the drawing. While looking at it, you could see a sad smile appear on his lips.

“It is perfect, cara. I approve.” You smiled so big that you feared some tears would start falling again. As he gave you the sketchbook back, he caught your hand in his, careful to not hurt you, and kissed the back so gently, but you hoped it stained the bandage a bit, a memento.

“Sei un'artista meravigliosa (You are an amazing artist). I will talk to you tomorrow, I promise. Until then, rest well, cara.” After that, he left.

Suddenly the apartment was cold. You did not have the energy to do anything else so you changed into your pajamas and went to bed, wishing there was someone holding you as you drifted into your slumber.

...

Hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter (I love drama). Next week I am going away again so I will try to work on some of the AUs. Down below I leave you a rendition made by yours trully of the arragement sketch. It is not as good as I wanted it to be, but you get the idea.

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-MASTERLIST-

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #ghost #fanfic #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x female reader #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #papa nihil #papa secondo #papa primo #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus lll #ghost bc #ghost the band #ghost band #papa copia

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havarstpapyrus · 4 months

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Nightmares left hand man of should I say boys..

Dust and Pyrus

Now this is going to be long as there two of them and will be done separately on this one post so I'll be doing Dust for the beginning then switch to Pyrus then back to Dust and so on

Up first is Dust ^^ let's get his good stuff down first

° Mumbles to Pyrus while talking when others are around - irritates the fuck out of Cross -

° Wishs to have a pet snake

° Enjoys reading with Leo

° Loves to play card games

° Sometimes does pranks

° Loves the smell of candles

° Loves Leo and Horror equally

° Treasures Pyrus old scarf - what's left of it -

° Loves to sleep in Horrors clean hoodies

° Will help clean the castle with Pyrus

° Magic training

° His AU before everything happened

° Loves his brother

° Loves being around everyone

Now it's Pyrus goodies now ^^

° Loves pulling pranks

° Adores small animals

° Collects squish mellows

° Playing card games - extermly good at it-

° Teasing Dust

° Sometimes likes to possess Dust

° Adores Leo and Horror

° S'mores

° Cooking

° Scented candles

° Bomfires

° His scarf - what's left of it -

° Being a gremlin

° Knitting

Now on to the bad and dislikes for Dust

° Killer

° Doing supply runs

° Genocide

° Pyrus Squish mellows

° Having Nightmares

° Cock block

° Being alone

° Bright Colors

° Being possessed

° Having to kill

° Being defenseless

° Hates Liars

° Keeping Promises

° Hates the smell of Fish

° Losing to Killer

° Eating to much

° Nightmares Corruption

Here's Pyrus dislikes and hates

° Hates Killer smoking

° Dogs

° Dirty Rooms

° Loud Music

° Scary Movies

° Dust getting/being sick

° Being dead

° Genocide

° Pancakes

° Being forgotten

° Abandoning their home

° Corruption

° Dream - he's to bright -

° Dust over working

° Killers stages

° Castle being in a mess

° Leo's Amnesia

A little info about the brother's

Dust didn't kill everyone but was forced to when the human came down fully Corrupted. Dust at first didn't think much of it until they did an endless Genocide. The timeline became glitched to the point his brother Papyrus stayed dead and had haunted him telling him to end everyone. At times he was himself other times it was like he was a completely different monster.

Papyrus was corrupted the moment he stayed dead and with that. They were trapped in their own mind unable to call for help as he watches helplessly as he encouraged his own brother to kill exegesis went as far as to possess him taking his will away.

Day after acking day Dust tries to leasen the pain with whatever he could. He turned to drugs, took as much as he could and for as long as he could until his body gave out. Dust would always wake the next day with everything he took flushed out thanks to his brother.

Oh how he wished he never did that. Why couldn't he at least get rid of the acking pain that's embedded into his very soul.

The only thing that Papyrus couldn't stop him is when he smoked. Dust smoked anything he could get his hands on, anything to make the pain go away.

At some point the human stopped coming but the damage was already done. Ink, Error and Nightmare came and saved them both yet his home was destoried by error while Ink healed Dust and his brother.

Nightmare took him away and gave him a new home, a new family, and unknowingly two of the best Lovers he could've asked for.

Both Dust and Papyrus were caught off guard when Leo could see and hear Papyrus. It delighted then both as Dust wasn't going insane like Nightmare had once thought due to the trauma Dust was forced to endure.

Whenever Dust got sick his brother who Leo nicknamed Pyrus freaked out since Dust gets the worst of it. The common flu can turn deadly in a matter of hours for Dust. Due to Dusts high LV he's able to stay alive and fight a good chunk of any illness away. Pyrus on the other hand would freak out and try his best to help Dust even if he can't do much of anything to help having to end up getting Leo to get help. It usually makes Pyrus cry every time he can't do something to help Dust.

Leo gave Dust his new cloths the same time Horror got his which he likes greatly. The new hoodie helps block out the light for him to actually see since bright lights and colors blind him and also helped Dust quit smoking while Horror yelled get him to stop drinking and using.

Some years later they meet Killer who both Pyrus and Dust don't like. Pyrus always lectured Killer whenever he started to smoke in the castle while Dust didn't like how he always acted around Pyrus and himself. Killer pisses them both off.

When Horror gets stress Pyrus would try to help him bake something, at least Horror and Leo understands Dust and believes that Pyrus is here without the need for proof.

Dust couldn't have asked for more

Pyrus wishes Dust would tie the knot with them both and just fuck already

Here's Dusts stats and be careful what you read

Name: Dust

Age : 318

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Height : 5'10

Relationship: Horror and Leo

HP: 20,375

ATT: 120

DEF: 93

Magic lv: 93/100

Magic: teleportation, bone att., blue att., Gaster Blasters, magic coated weapon items, KR, levitation

Special ability: can steal magic - uses ungloved hands and bites - . This ability can allow Dust to steal magic from others to replenish his own magic.

This can cause the victim to experience magic exhaustion, chills, and lack motivation to continue the fight

While using his ability Dust is vulnerable to attacks due to how close he needs to be. The ability can cause Dust to use more energy and cause him to lose the will to eat or drink anything for a few days. The more he had to use it the longer his will to stay alive slips away from him.

Weapon of choice: barb whip

Side weapon : shurikns - 3 to 8 points -

Dusts motto

" never give up without a fight as long as your alive there will always be someone to protect and care for. "

" There is no second chances when your life is in the line "

Now it's time for Dusts brother stats

Name : Papyrus " Pyrus "

Age : 283

Height: 6'11 - when alive -

Gender : Male

Pronouns : They/Them

Relationship: none

HP : ?????

ATT: 560

DEF : ?????

Magic lv: ?????

Magic: Copycat , possession

Special ability: swap

This ability allows Pyrus to ??????

[ INFOMATION UNAVAILABLE ]

* IT'S RUDE TO LOOK WITHOUT PERMISSION HUMAN *

Weapon of choice: ??????

Side weapon: ?????

Pyrus motto

" Not everyone deserves kindness and not everyone is worthy of your time."

" Silences is stronger then action when in the face of Aggression, show them no emotion and they will give up when they don't get the reaction they wanted. "

* Dust stares you down. You don't know if he'll attack or not but his brother looks at you with murderous intent. You get the feeling your about to have a very bad time. *

#misunderstandings #my first fic #dust sans #dust tale papyrus #dust x horror #tw drugs #tw alchohol mention #hinted suicide #dust papyrus #drug recovery #alchohol recover #Corruption in Dustale #hopes and fears

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kirihotto · 2 years

Text

Sugar Cake {J-hope X reader 18+}

→ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content.

→ Genre: Established relationship/ Birthday treat & Valentines

→ Summary: Hoseok's birthday is creeping up and plans have yet to been made. Jimin reaches out to you and helps plan something for all of you. But you have an idea for something after meeting with the guys.

→ Word Count: 3 050

Disclaimer: All members are face and name claims for the story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. All works are purely for entertainment purposes.

Published: 02/18/23 (Hobi's B'day)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2/12/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Your POV)

Hoseok’s birthday. Only four short days after valentines day. In which I had done nothing for. He had been busy filming and recording for their new single; Butter. So we really haven't had much time to discuss plans for his birthday or valentines day. Sure enough we did little things for his birthday. But until now he was loaded with work. Constantly away or busy practicing. Not that I mind. Rather, I feel Hoseok deserves more. A break. Time where he can relax with his dearly loved members. In which I hope to be a part of. Which Jimin had agreed to.

Jimin: Hey! F/N you know our Hoba’s birthday is coming up right?

Me: Yeah! You guys have been so busy. I wasn't sure whether to plan something or not..

Jimin: Yeah we have been busy. T.T

Jimin: But! Hobi deserves it! Let’s make a plan. Our recording should finish right on his birthday actually! So we should be free for awhile other than promo’s. (Let’s just say that for the story. Butter was released in May.)

Me: Alright! I had an idea I would like to do..

The members had each gotten their own small gift for him. Planning to book out a private diner with the members. Rather than Hoseok and I having to drive home, Stay at a hotel close by. So we could drink to our content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2/14~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We had begun preparing on Valentine's day. Booking a restaurant to hold all of us, the hotel, getting cake ingredients and.. All the valentines stuff on sale.. Which led me to buy a small sweet pink set of flowers and a small batch of candy hearts. I wasn't exactly the best at baking so hopefully it was good enough. The thought was there anyway. The thoughts of him cuddling himself off to sleep next to me after a late night practice. It was satisfying yet kind of painful to see how tired he was. Trying to get my message across with everything. Letting him know he was doing amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2/18~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Hoseok POV)

I’m glad we are able to do this again for ARMY, yes.. I was surprised no one had remembered my birthday. None of them said anything about it other than ARMY. Not that it mattered since we were so busy. I wouldn't blame them! I had nearly forgotten myself. Not to mention Valentine's day. I hadn't gotten F/N anything for valentines day since we’ve been together. I had always seemed to be busy around that time. So I ended up leaving them by themself. Made me feel so bad everytime.They would tell me it's ok over and over. Alright! That's it! I’ll at least pick some flowers on the way home.

“That’s a wrap!” One of the many staff had shouted from behind the camera. While we stood under bright lights with all eyes on us. Black and yellow fancy suits in all. Makeup over done to allow the camera to see such detail. Our chests rising and falling nearly sink like the whole choreography had been. Practicing over a hundred times to ensure perfection. Which was exhausting but some how felt great.

“I am STARVING!” Jin howled once we reached the hall to our dressing rooms. Pulling his bee colored suit from his wide shoulders. We all laughed at Jin’s loud statement as he read what we were all thinking. Jin scowled. “No, I'm serious.”

“Yes yes we all are.” Namjoon chuckled back. Swiping back his navy blue hair with a grin.

“Hey! I got us a place booked for dinner! Lets get cleaned up and head out?” Jimin shouted from his room in the small hall, a flash of his bright red hair drawing my attention.My silent debate ran through my mind. A dinner? I mean I'm starving. But I just wanna see F/N…

“Sure. I'm down as long as Namjoon isn't driving.” Suga stated boldly. Honestly not expecting much else from him. Though a small laugh escaped my lips. Everyone else agreed. While I was still debating on going. How could I refuse my members! We just finished an awesome single and were starving. I’d have to grab the flowers before dinner. All their eyes were on me. I blinked in confusion.

“Oh! Right of course I'm going, do you even need to ask?” I chuckled and messed around with my suit. Usually they didn't ask at all and assumed we would all go. After my answer, happy yes’s filled the silence as the younger members flew to the showers. “ I need to grab something on the way to dinner.”

Yoongi nodded giving me thumbs up before making his way to his room. Perfect! I’d get those flowers and have dinner after making an awesome song. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Doesn't matter, it's my birthday! It’s still another day with everyone.

Roughly an hour had passed and we were all sitting in the lobby. The three youngest came out to us arm in arm full of laughter. A great sight to see. Yoongi and Taehyung had been chosen as the drivers of the night. We all piled into cars, the three youngest in one car and the four oldest in the other. Jin next to me, fixing his hair on his phone camera. Namjoon next to our driver. Yoongi turned his dark eyes to me from the front.

“Where did you need to go?” He asked gently fixing his curled black hair. He was rather relaxed today. Or maybe he was just tired? Once we grab food we'll all feel better anyway i’m sure!

“The flower shop! I won't be long.”

“Flowers? For what?” Namjoon asked from the front seat, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh, F/N of course!” I replied while Joon nodded with that sweet smile. Yoongi drove off, making our way to the diner. I grabbed a small set of red and white roses on the way over. Jin teased me sniffing the roses placed between us. Doing awful impersonations of F/N receiving the flowers and so on.

Making it to the diner as we sat in the car waiting for the other members. It was somewhere we had come pretty often as a treat. It was one of my favorites. Jin and Namjoon were chatting away while I stared at the fresh roses. Thoughts of F/N kept swirling in the back of my mind while we waited. The last three members pulled up next to our car. We began to leave the car until Yoongi had stopped me. I paused due to his order.

��Hm?”

“You might wanna take those with you.” He gestured with one hand. The other tucked in his leather jacket pocket. Following his guidance to the roses.

“Alright! Best not to leave them behind I suppose.”

Meeting up with the rest of my members in the parking lot. We made our way inside by Jimin’s lead. He walked up to the counter and checked us in. We all took our seats with the menus. Suspiciously I looked around the room while we all chatted. There was an empty chair next to me where the flowers I had bought sat. Everyone was rather quiet including myself. Namjoon and Jimin both stood off to the side. Looking at their phones and whispering slightly.

“Hi!” the door burst open. I had nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden sound.

(Your POV)

“Sorry I was late, I meant to get here before you all.” I apologize. Seeing Hoseok star struck. My hand clung to the open door as I took deep breaths. Since I had spotted their cars and booked it here.

“Wahhh.. am I dreaming?” Hoseok asked, placing his hand over his chest, looking about. The guys burst out laughing at his reaction.

“Happy birthday!” We all cheered, a smile finally graced his face since I had seen him. I had been standing awkwardly out of breath with my hands full. The members all properly seated. Everyone was laughing and chattering. Though Hoseok didn't say a word. He stood up and walked over to me.

“Hoseok?” I was worried. His gaze did not meet mine. Rather it met the floor. Until he wrapped his arms around me in a tight warm hug. His head resting on my shoulder.

“Thank you. I needed this.” He whispered in my ear sweetly. His voice low and steady. While my heart was fluttering about. Seriously, I missed him like crazy today.. He pulled back a firm grip on my shoulders. “Wow you got me gifts too! Oh! Here I got you these! For late valentines haha!~”

“Oh! Thank you.” I was shocked at his offer as well. He held out a similar looking flower arrangement to the one I had given him. After the exchange I took a seat next to him. Once we had ordered the stories began. Retelling stories about each other during the recent practice days. Silly mess ups, bad takes, funny interactions with staff all the sorts.

Food arrived and we all ate our fill. Not long before drinking our fill as well. Luckily no one seemed to be drunk. It was so nice seeing everyone happy. Smiles all around as they teased one another. But that brightest loud laugh from next to me was one I had missed. Hoseok sat chatting with the other members. His slender hand placed on my thigh, swiping kind cuddles. Whether it was the alcohol or just being clingy. His simple action flustered me whenever he would move. My gaze directed at the table, my drink in a decent firm grip. Yoongi sat across from me. He tapped my leg with one of his doc’s.

"Sick of us are you?" He whispered to me from across the table. Taking a sip of his drink. Everyone else's gaze filled with smiles. While Yoongi held a cocky smirk at me. My face beat red. Ruffling his hair he looked at Hoseok innocently. Finally he noticed my scowl at Yoongi.

"What did you do now Hyung?" Hoseok asked, confused. Hearing Jimin's hysterical laugh, Jin joined in not long after. Hoseok scanned his friend for a response. Though Yoongi held his usual calm demeanor.

"Why don't you ask them?" He gestured his glass in my direction. The ice clinked together rhythmically. Hoseok's tender gaze flew to me. His grip on my thigh tensed as he looked me up and down.

"Ah! No no I'm fine he just hit me under the table by mistake." I replied. Hoseok rolled his eyes, nudging me.

"I thought something was wrong with you. Stop pestering each other." He scolded mockingly. Waving a sassing finger about. Yoongi just silently took a sip of his drink. Sliding me a cocky wink. The waiter had come back with the check. Jimin was the first one to snatch it. Namjoon testified. The two were bickering about it until the cash. Hearing them even in the private room. After paying we made our way outside. The cold puffs of laughter filled the lot. colorful sets of hair seen miles away, piling into the cars. While I held a grip on Hoseok's arm. He turned to face me confused.

“I umm.. Got us a hotel room for the night. I packed our clothes and everything already. I signed us in. It’s within walking distance from here.” I stated, my cheeks still flushed. He was shocked but a smile appeared in seconds. The cool wind blowing his pink tipped blonde hair. Though it hadn't felt cold next to him.

“Hyung! Are you joining us?” Jungkook called out waving his arm about.

“Naw! I got a ride!” Hoseok waved back to the group. “Thanks for the dinner, get home safe!”

His focus turned back to me. My grip still on his arm. He placed his warm hand over my cold one clinging to him. Tucking back a stray hair behind my ear, his stare directed at me. Hoseok leaned down to my view. Holding the flowers and treat in one hand.

“Lead the way.~” He wisped out slyly. I felt like I was the one getting spoiled. Getting all his attention for the past few hours. Leading him down the street as we talked until the door. My arm still linked with his. Feeling the silent tension rise as the elevator did so. Upon opening the room door was the cake I had made him. My own messy writing across the top. After a look about the room Hoseok’s view flew to it as well. Dropping the things by the door, Hoseok rushed over with a grin. My palms sweaty. He picked it up and read the crappy writing out loud. “Happy birthday my love..”

“I know it's kind of bad.. Looking. ” I attempted to hide my nerves. He placed the cake down on the table where it had been waiting. His attention turned back to me.

“Did you make this?”

“Y-yeah. It was really my first time trying something like that.” I replied honestly. A sweet smile came across his face again filled with glittery expectations. I knew that smile had meant he liked it without saying a word. Waving his hands about slightly he grabbed the chopsticks that sat at the other end of the room. Taking a piece with his chopsticks he took a bite. Loaded with vanilla cake and icing.

“Mmmm!” He exclaimed, scrunching his nose. Through a mouth full of cake he spoke. “Wah~ so good. Very sweet.”

“Thank you! I may have added too much sugar..” I chuckled awkwardly. Hoseok looked up to me from his place on the side of the bed. Legs swinging off the side of the bed, cheeks filled with cake. I took a bite as well. It was very sweet. But not necessarily bad. My shocked expression caught his gaze. He laughed, covering his mouth slightly. “ I wasn't expecting it to be so good. You're right though.. Too sweet haha.”

Chatting more about work and other life matters we finished the small cake. The room slightly dimmed as I crawled my way into his arms, lying on his chest from his lap. More stories and thoughts from Hoseok filled the room. Though I felt myself drifting due to comfort. Suddenly he stopped talking. Before I could ask a question. Feeling his lips on mine for only a brief moment, the slight taste of icing.

"Were you listening?" Hoseok asked, leaning over me. His pink tipped hair dangled in my face. Though he wasn't mad. He seemed more relaxed than anything. I dipped my hand on the soft skin of his face. My thumb rested on his cheek as he stared lovingly into my eyes. Staring back at me he placed his hand on top of mine. " I love you. Thanks for all this."

"I don't need thanks. You deserve this. You worked so hard.." I replied sincerely. He let my hand go and moved my hair off my forehead. Placing a gentle kiss. “Hobaa.. Sit up?”

“Mm? Sure thing love.” Hoseok obliged my request, full of confusion. Not a moment after I clung to him, placed atop his thighs facing him. Breathing in his sweet scent. Something filled with warmth. My arms enclosing him in a hug. He patted my hair before he did the same. Hoseok's slender hands resting at my back. There were no words spoken, just the feeling of love, comfort and warmth. Our bodies pressed against each other. Filling a longing that had been weighing us both down. Hoseok’s warm breath trailed down my neck. A fluttering of soft kissing trailing across it. My hands grabbed at the back of his hoodie, feeling the lean muscle. He paused his movement. Placing our foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Me too..” His eyes flickered from my eyes to my lips. The sly look in his eye could easily tell what he was thinking. Though I flew backward toward the end of the bed. My form placed atop my legs, my hands tucked properly in front of me. Hoseok sat there wide eyed.

(Spice)

“I-i’m yours. You deserved to be spoiled… I won't stop you.” I stated my gaze toward the floor. From what I had seen, Hoseok's reaction was shock. Though once I returned his stare a pink dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Are you sure?” Hoseok questioned, a look of lust with an attempt of sincerity. Nodding back in response the bright colored hoodie he had been wearing was whisked off his lean form, along with his shirt. His skin glowing in the dim room light, my eyes wondering his form. Hoseok let out a little chuckle drawing my attention back up to his sweet eyes. “You just gonna sit there and stare?”

“N-no..”

“Take that off. And get your sweet butt over here!” Hoseok said, pointing to my top. Then gesturing to his lap. I did as he said though all the while I was nervous. His silent stare at my every movement. Crawling up to Hoseok’s lap from the end of the bed, both topless. My legs on either side of him, he hovered his hands on my hips. His eyes scanned my form. Then flickering from my lips to my eyes. “Wow. have you gotten more beautiful?”

“Hobiii!” I blushed, covering my face. He pulled my hands away, holding them between our chests. He crept closer to my lips with his. Finally meeting, soft kisses turned more harsh. My hands moved to rest on his shoulders. Hoseok’s snaking around my hips pulling me closer. Bareskin and warmth yet again. I could feel his smirk in the kiss. Pulling away he rested his forehead on mine, our breath slightly heavy. Looking into eachothers eyes. I moaned out at Hoseok's actions. He pulled my hips down rocking me back and forth. My hands flew to the sides of his face, resting slightly behind his ears. Slight groans escaped his lips as well as mine. A bulge was soon felt underneath my movement. Hoseok leaned into my neck leaving open mouth kisses. His soft lips leave trails of comfort and lustful craving.

“That cake was sweet. But I think this is sweeter.”

#jhope x reader #jhope #hoseok #hobi day #hope day #jhopeday #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #valentine #valentines day #birthday

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pbandjesse · 8 months

Text

Today was a really productive day but man am I tired. It did not help that I was wildly congested last night. My nose hurts so bad and I woke up with it scabby and painful. It did not make me want to get up.

Plus I could hear James in the other room on the phone and then I heard people. We were finally getting an oven. But I did not want to interact. So I waited in bed until things got quiet. James came in to tell me we had an oven. And that is was little? It isn't the same width so it looks funny in the space. But it's fine we won't be here long.

I got dressed and made a little peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I felt a little ugly today. But it wasn't about me. I had things to do. And I was looking forward to it.

Even if my mood was not amazing. Like nothing was particularly wrong but I was a little on edge. I was happy to be going away from the apartment because like I said before it is bringing me stress. James packed all the boxes they could in the car. And getting that stuff out of here helped but still. The stress is real.

It is going to be so nice when I am back to a neat space that I have control over. I can't wait to have shelves and storage and everything I have been planning put together.

We would leave here and head over to the house. I was trying to be positive even if I was feeling a little off. Once we got to the house though I started to feel better. James would bring things inside and I would deliver them to the correct rooms. And it didn't take long. It was a lot of knickknacks and studio stuff and some kitchen things.

Once things were inside I went upstairs to start painting. The new color is so much better but, hilariously, the paint was frozen! I had forgotten it in the car and I just had to laugh. Thankfully it wasn't solid. And I was able to mix it and de-ice it. It wasn't as liquid but it would work.

James would join me eventually after putting away some stuff downstairs. I put them in charge of the edges I could reach. And we would switch back and forth from who was using a brush and who was using the roller.

Painting a ceiling is tough!! But we worked together and did a really good job and I absolutely love how it looks. Seriously once we were two hours in I just laid on the ground and felt so happy. Laying on the ground also just helped me see what would need to be touched up. But overall we were able to knock the whole thing out in less then three hours.

James would leave to go pack the car up, get gas, and pick us up lunch from Chipotle. And I was left to my own devices.

After taking a break I went to take the tape down in the bathroom. The green dried down so beautifully. I cannot wait to put up all the decorations. I struggled with some of the tape because I couldn't reach it but I got what I could and that very last piece James would get later on.

I went back to the bedroom to touch up what I could see. One of the issues with using such a dark blue against the windows I struggled to see. But I did my best and by looking at it from different angles I think I was able to get everything. And I still have a little leftover paint so I think everything will be just perfect in the end.

I cleaned up and put some things away. Moved stuff to the basement. And started unpacking what I could. I wanted to empty as many boxes as I could to send back home for further packing. I also hung out door knocker. I was having a good time.

But I was also hungry. So it was really nice when James got back with food. They sell were able to say hi to our new mail man. And he requested we put our name on the mail box! Can do! We got our very first piece of mail. Our homeowners insurance. Good. I'm glad it was a real piece of mail.

James brought things inside before they joined me in eating lunch. They took a moment to fix the fridge water dispenser because I couldn't figure it out. Turns out in my trying to fix it I had turned off the water to the fridge. Oops. But now we know how to fix it and turn off the water if needed in the future.

After lunch I would start unpacking the boxes they brought. And they would start working on the kitchen. I would join them and put away what I could. We don't have our pantry or island yet so we worked with what we had in front of us. We need two lazy susans for the corner cabinet but everything else went pretty well after some fussing.

I took all of our unframed stuff out of the box to put under a book to hopefully flatten it. And as we were finishing that the Fulwilers were coming over!

I was excited to share the house with them. Tucker took all kinds of pictures. And they had lots of questions. It was fun showing it off though they keep talking about furniture we can have that they have in the garage. We will see. I have mapped out a lot of our furniture so I don't know what will fit and I don't want to be over run. But we will see what works out.

After our tour we sat in the living room and talked about the plans for a while. But I was getting tired. My allergies have been touch and go all day but I think I was just beat. It was a long day.

They Fulwilers headed out and we followed after. We put all the boxes in the car and headed back to the apartment.

When we got back here we brought the boxes inside. But when we got in here James got super upset when we found my flower plant fell down! It was just to top heavy. So the flowers broke but there is still one that has bloomed yet so it's okay. It's an annual plant so I think it will be okay in the long run even if it was damaged.

James was overly upset. And that made me upset. But we would calm down and I got some spikes and take to reinforce the stem of the deeper and it will be okay. It will live.

James would do laundry and I would get in bed to rest with sweetp. Eventually we had a little dinner. James painted their nails. And I tried to feel alright.

I think I will take a shower and try to sleep. I actually was able to go to bed earlier then not sleeping last night so I'm hoping to do that again. Wish me luck.

Tomorrow I have a half day of work and then we are going to get tattoos!! I hope it is fun.

Sleep well everyone. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Goodnight!!

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zoethehead · 1 year

Text

the Spy and the Phoenix

(TW's apply: Temporary character Death, regret, mourning, grief, resurrection, Wulf kinda dies but he comes back)

The sickening sound of flesh being stabbed through echoed through the caves, Wulf looked down, seeing the spiked tendril stabbed through his heart; and the tendril retracted, a pool of blood forming on his clothing. Just then; Wulf started to feel lightheaded and weak, collapsing; he was losing a lot of blood at that moment… Chalakon rushed over, quickly grabbing ahold of Wulf.

"Wulf!" Chalakon shrieked.

Wulf opened his eyes weakly, seeing the concerned and teary-eyed face of Chalakon above him.

"Wulf! Please; you have so much life left to live!" Chalakon pleaded, his voice breaking

Wulf coughed up some blood, reaching up a hand to chalakon's cheek, caressing the Troskos' face.

"D-don't cry…. I'll be fine……Just….. forget that I existed…" wulf said, his voice weak….

Wulf's vision faded to black as he took a few last breaths, succumbing to bloodloss caused by his injuries.

Chalakon couldn't believe it, the man who he loved… he was dead.

Chalakon felt tears well up again, he didn't want it happening, he didn't wanna lose the man who cared about him, he just didn't! not after so many close calls and brushes with death!

Chalakon let out a yell; a shriek or wail of grief and rage; he couldn't handle it, he couldn't take this pain, he had to do something….

Wulf's eyes opened to a dark abyss, one that seemingly happened to be dark waters; just like so many memories of him being keelhauled.. but it felt more serene, and… more somber to him, adrift and dead in murky waters.

"What was I thinking? I-I should have told him how much he mattered to me, n-not telling him to forget me!" Wulf said as he sunk further down in his purgatory. "Maybe I was a bad boyfriend after all… I guess…." he reflected, tears forming. "Maybe, i deserve this fate, to die and be forgotten…." Wulf said, closing his eyes again as he drifted further.

Chalakon let out a scream of pure anguish, getting up from his kneeling position and letting go of Wulf.

Chalakon was slightly changed by this point, his eyes were glowing a more vibrant green, as were his fins and some markings on his body. He dashed towards this creature that had just taken the life of his boyfriend, spear in hand and ready to impale this foul beast several times over with his spear for who it had killed-- a man who had meant most to the one who was now seemingly mourning his loss.

Just then, something seemingly Pulled Wulf out of the murky depths that was the afterlife, bringing his soul into another world, the surface… but still not quite.

"Well; A human's here, this is quite a pleasant surprise." a voice chimed.

Wulf opened his eyes, seeing a towering anthropomorphic bird, one with 4 glowing seafoam eyes and markings in the colors of pink, a golden orange, and yellow, surrounded by orange feathers, the print of a flame at the center of its feathered chest. There were 2 eyes adorning their wings, and a couple of crystals; one on a necklace, and the other on their forehead.

Wulf kind of scooched away, soon wincing as he saw the wound where he had been killed, holding a hand over it.

"It's okay, I don't bite." The Bird-folk said, reassuring Wulf.

"Who are you?" Wulf asked.

"I'm known as Phoenix; god of resurrection, light, and fire." Phoenix said, a plume of light appearing in their hand. "but that doesn't really matter, I am here kind of watching over the afterlife while Goena's doing other stuff besides doing her job." Phoenix said.

Wulf sat down on the afterlife's shores.

"I guess that's it, huh? Dead with the only man who loves me in this world left in despair." Wulf said, holding his legs close to his chest, resting an arm over his knees.

"No, not quite." Phoenix said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Wulf said.

"I'm dead, I said the most meaningless shit as a last word, and I left my boyfriend in a possible state of anguish, just trying to protect him and the Ozilese!" Wulf ranted.

"I can bring you back, I'm a god of resurrection after all, and I can sense that it wasn't your time when you arrived here." Phoenix said, helping Wulf up.

"I don't understand… I'm dead, and death is supposed to be permanent…" Wulf said.

Phoenix chuckled, "Not in Ecresia, Wulf…" they said.

"As of now, You will be alive again, but that also means you're gonna possibly be a vessel for some of my powers, Even if those are taken away somehow; you will live." Phoenix smirked, holding a glowing light in their talon, holding it up to the fatal wound on Wulf's chest.

"Just close your eyes, everything will be fine now… Wulf…." Phoenix said.

A glowing golden light engulfed wulf's soul, as it arose up from the after life into a light; not a light to show more of the afterlife, but a light that lead back to life….

Chalakon had murdered the beast, his eyes still misty from tears, he panted as the anger faded, blackish-green gore covering his hands.

He heard some muttering, turning over to see a golden glowing light, he rushed over, seeing some golden light engulfing Wulf's body, veins of light adorning his body, and bright orange wings made of light also appeared. Chalakon rested one hand underneath wulf's head, holding him up.

Just then, wulf took a breath… air filling his lungs, as he coughed, getting used to being alive again….

Wulf's eyes opened, seeing the blurry sight of Chalakon slightly looming above him…

"Hey…" Wulf said.

"Y-you're alive.." Chalakon said; his voice a mix of astonishment and tears.

"Yeah, I guess that I am.." Wulf said.

Wulf was already exhausted from the bloodloss, with the resurrection topping that, it would possibly be awhile til' he felt well enough.

"Wulf, are you okay?" Chalakon asked, worried.

"He'll be quite out of it for awhile, and it will take some time to adjust to being resurrected." An Ozilese elder said, picking up Wulf and carrying him somewhere.

"Wait!" Chalakon shouted, catching up to the elder.

It would be minutes, but Wulf's wounds were taken care of, and his body was washed off of any dirt and blood, his wounds were bandaged, and he was laid against a soft queen sized bed.

Chalakon look down somberly at his boyfriend, Caressing the human's cheek with his hand, and planting a kiss on Wulf's forehead.

"Rest well, Wulf.." Chalakon said before he laid down right beside Wulf.

#spies and sea #the phoenix #wulf riscernos #chalakon moor #the ozilese #grief tw #angst #S&S Angst #hurt/comfort #temporary character death

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