#I've never been so torn on how to approach a fic

[adancingalien]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader

summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it

warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.

word count: 3.9k

note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting

It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you. 

Marriage.

You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice. 

Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.

Benjicot Blackwood.

Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.

And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky. 

You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are. 

Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.

He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.

“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”

As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.

“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”

Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.

“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.

“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”

The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.

His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”

“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.

Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”

You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.

“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”

“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.

Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”

“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”

You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.

“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”

Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.

“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.

“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”

“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.

You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter. 

“I can't Benji.”

“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”

“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”

Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man. 

It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.

“I'll just take you then!”

Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.

“What.” You can simply find no other words.

Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield. 

“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”

“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”

“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”

“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”

He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.

“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”

He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.

It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.

It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair. 

You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.

“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”

At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.

“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”

You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration. 

“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”

“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”

You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.

“I would have your child.”

Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.

“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”

“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”

At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.

“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat. 

“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.

“You have done it to me many times.”

“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.

“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”

“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.

Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly. 

“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”

“You think I care what others say of me?”

“I think you will care when it happens.”

“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.” 

You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.

“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”

Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.

“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”

“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”

At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.

“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”

At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path. 

“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”

“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”

“I am ready.”

A coy smile spreads across your face.

“Let me convince you.” 

At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.

His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip. 

His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips. 

It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.

“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.

 He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.

“What you grinning about him?”

“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”

His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again. 

“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”

You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.

“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.

It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.

“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”

You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.

“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”

“You have me sweet one, you have me.”

You pull roughly on his hair at his words.

“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.

“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”

Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.

“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”

At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.

“Stay.”

A simple command that he follows without question.

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒! ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I've been itching to write another sex pollen fic so I decided to do it for the dragon man hehe <3 // repost bc the first one stopped showing up in the tags // a request from anon 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Zhongli x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.7k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, smut, marathon sex, sex pollen (so slight dubcon?), aphrodisiacs

The weather in Liyue was particularly beautiful today and so you and your lover Zhongli had left Liyue Harbour in order to take a walk through Guili Plains instead. You had found a nice little shady spot under a tree where you laid out the little picnic you had brought with you. The two of you simply chatted and cuddled, feeding each other little bites of food (you often stealing said bites from Zhongli’s plate the moment he looked away). He would always catch you though and would give you a stern look that you saw right through because there was always a little smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. 

Your little picnic is interrupted, however, when a butterfly comes and lands on the blanket right beside your stretched out legs. Upon closer inspection, it was a crystalfly. You’d never seen one out in the open before. A little gasp is torn from your lips as you sit up and lean forwards to try and get a closer look at its glittering, golden wings, but it takes one look at you and instantly begins to fly off. 

“Ah-!” You look between the in-flight crystalfly and your lover with a look of disappointment and a silent request if he minds whether or not you chase after it to get a better look at it. Zhongli simply nods his head once, slowly, and you’re off running after it, dry grass crunching under your feet and dress catching between your thighs with the wind resistance, blowing out behind you. 

While you chase after the beautiful little creature, Zhongli watches you with a look of amusement. It was a childlike sight, almost, but it was adorable to watch you from the shade beneath the tree. You approach a pond that houses a few fish and some lotus heads and suddenly you pause as you look all around but realise you have lost sight of the little crystalfly. 

You don’t have much time to be disappointed though as your eyes soon land on some pink flowers that are growing on the bank. The bloomed ones are about the side of your hand when stretched out. The petals are a pale and supple pink, looking so soft and smelling so sweet that they’re almost beckoning you to rub a petal between your thumb and forefingers just so you can see for yourself whether or not your eyes are deceiving you. The petals are large, slightly overlapping each other and rounded – almost like a buttercup.They’re thick with a faint yellow stigma and anther so full of a dusty red pollen that the centre of each flower almost seems to glow red upon its own pink petals. You lean in even closer to them as their sweet, sticky scent invades your nose, right down to your lungs. You have grown wary of big patches of flowers in the wild after one too many whopperflower encounters. 

But isn’t it funny how sometimes you can be so focused on not doing something that it somehow causes you to do it? 

In telling yourself over and over to not touch them occupying the forefront of your mind, your balance failed to be taken into recognition and you leaned too far forwards, resulting in you falling face-first into the patch of sweet pink flowers, kicking up a little cloud of red pollen around you. Your hands reach out to break your fall and land in the squelching mud of the pond’s bank and you let out a huff when you realise your dress will now be muddy too.But you make a quick recovery and return to your feet in time to prevent any further staining of your dress. 

You crouch down by the water, murmuring an apology to the fish that you disturb as you rinse off your hands and wrists and then look down at your dress. Only the hem is stained with mud at the front where it caught under your knees but the material is now covered in the red pollen. You try to rinse some off your forearm but it only smudges into you with a bright red smear and makes your skin feel hot. Oh, archons, you hope you aren’t allergic. After the pollen just smudges and smudges without lifting from your skin, you don’t further attempt to try to clean it off in the pond. Zhongli knows lots about everything, you’ll just ask him about this strange flower you’ve encountered and you’re sure he’ll have a solution for getting the pollen off of you. 

Meanwhile, Zhongli looked away from you for all of a moment to have a bite of what was left of your little picnic and when he looked up, you were pushing yourself up from the pond’s bank. He watched with a little frown as you tried to clean off the bottom of your dress in the water. You love that dress and he knows you’ll be upset about dirtying it. His eyes remain on you as you trudge back over to him across the dry grass of the plain. 

As you near him, however, he sees the red stains all over your body and how each time you set your foot upon the ground, it seems to shake a little red cloud up about you each time. 

Your walk back to the tree where the two of you had set up your picnic was not pleasant either. You had been sitting in the shade for hours and now the sun felt blisteringly hot on your skin in a way that you hadn’t noticed before when you were chasing the crystalfly.

“My darling, what happened?” Zhongli asks as he looks over you, trying to determine what it is you have all over you. He rises to his feet to meet you and takes a deep inhale in through his nose to see if he can determine what you’re covered in by the scent.

“There were these really pretty pink flowers, big ones-” You watch as he instantly covers his nose and mouth with a gloved hand and it makes you stop what you were saying mid-sentence, alarmed. “What? What is it? What were they?” You ask in rapid succession. The flowers were already making your skin feel feverishly hot and the pollen wouldn’t seem to budge from your skin for the most part. Had you fallen into a patch of deadly flowers? You wouldn’t put it past your bad luck. 

“And the pollen came from the centre of these flowers?” Zhongli asks. You nod your head immediately. He lets out a sigh. “Stand over there, my love-” He points to the edge of the shade that the tree provides- “and I’ll pack everything up so we can head home, ok?” 

“Zhongli, you’re worrying me…” You say as you follow his instructions; you trust him. 

“It’s nothing deadly and nothing that cannot be treated, my love.” He reassures you. You watch as he crouches down to pack up everything into the basket and fold up the blanket the two of you had spent most of the afternoon so far laying on. 

“Ok…” You say uneasily, not at all reassured by his words in comparison to his actions. You allow Zhongli to lead you home but you grow more and more anxious when he makes it very clear that you need to walk at a distance from one another. You spend the walk back resisting the urge to rub at your skin where the pollen has smeared over you and ignited a fire in your bloodstream that only seems to be growing gradually more unbearable. 

By the time you return home, Zhongli has you sit upon a chair at the dining table as he goes over to the large case of books. He pulls out a heavy book, a hardback that’s clothbound in a dusty green and worn a little at some of the corners and along the spine. He flips through the pages until he puts the book open in front of you. 

“Is this what you found?” He says as he lays it open to a detailed illustration of the flower you had encountered. On the page beside it is a diagram of the different parts of the plant and its scientific names.

“Yes! That’s it!” You exclaim as your eyes go to the top left where the name of the flower is written in big lettering, “Paradise Cup.” 

“Now keep reading…” Zhongli instructs and your eyes flicker from left to right over the pages. Apparently this flower is very fascinating to many botanists due to its unique method of pollinating where it will encourage its pollinators to propagate the red dust it produces by inducing- 

“... I fell into a bed of aphrodisiac flowers?” Your tone falls flat. Just your luck. You continue reading and find that your physical state will only continue to worsen if you do not copulate. No wonder botanists were so fascinated. 

“In a sense, yes.” Your lover replies. You think about how he had you keep your distance on the walk home and suddenly begin to worry about how you’re going to deal with this problem. 

“And you’re going to help me… right?” You ask uncertainly. Zhongli laughs a little in response, a deep and rumbling sound from his chest that you always love to hear, a deep timbre that reaches your own body. His gloved hand cups your cheek and you feel as he tries to dust some of the pollen away but it only creates a red smear on your face. 

“Of course, my darling.” He leans down and his lips softly meet yours. Suddenly, it’s like a catalyst for whatever the pollen is doing to you and your body practically lunges upwards as you loop your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, your body singing out to feel his skin against yours. It’s like your entire world stops, like the world outside of this room, that only holds the two of you, ceases to exist and you need more, more, more

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Your skin shines with a sheen of sweat and you squirm beneath where your lover has you pinned down beneath his powerful body, your legs thrown over his shoulders and pressing into your chest as he pounds away at you relentlessly. You’ve been bent over the edge of the bed, pressed to the wall, set on all fours until your knees buckled and Zhongli had to hold you up — all of that and you still felt like you hadn’t gone at all even though you were well past your sixth orgasm now. But the pollen was already in your system and it had begun to infect your lover who already possessed the stamina of the god he is. 

But the two of you need to keep on going until you’re satisfied — more specifically until the paradise cup pollen is satisfied — and it seems that such satiation is not yet in sight. 

Your pussy is aching and puffy from such rigorous use but you barely feel the full throb of pain over the pulsing of pleasure that looks like magma at the apex of your thighs. Your damp hair sticks to your forehead and temples and Zhongli can feel it upon his skin too as his teeth latch onto the junction of your neck and shoulder, keeping you in place as he begins to let his composure slip, realising that he may well have his only opportunity to let his stamina loose on you in a way you never could have handled before without the help of the aphrodisiac. 

Your little fingers tangle in his dark, gold-tipped hair and loop dampening locks around your hands in a desperate attempt to keep him close — as if your heels digging into the backs of his shoulders weren’t already doing just that. 

“More, more, more.” Leaves your lips once again, seemingly your mantra of today as your pollen-tainted biology demands that Zhongli gives you all he has and then some, like it won’t allow your body to be exhausted until his godly one is also; something that the two of you know is going to take a lot. 

The sheets will have to be changed without a doubt and you can already feel the warmth of your combined fluids leaking from your hole and can hear the wet noises made by them as Zhongli continues to piston in and out of you. You let out a pitchy keen when one of his hands stops pressing at the back of your knee in favour of going down to rub over your swollen clit in little star shapes, smearing your wetness and his seed over the sensitive bundle of nerves as your body quivers behind him and he can feel the way your legs tense and tremble, every muscle tightening up in anticipation of your impending orgasm. 

The moment he feels your walls tighten around him, trying to keep him in as deep as possible and milk him of all the cum he has to give, his lips crash against yours messily, swallowing all of your moans and babbled cries of ‘more, ‘Lili, more please!’ 

You’re flipped onto your front again, breasts pressed into the softness of the mattress and the brief moments in which he’s pulled out of you feel like a crime of the highest order that’s only put right the moment he’s inside of you again and pounding into your sensitive cunt, holding you down – as though you had enough strength remaining to even push yourself up – while he looks down at how you take him over and over again. There’s a ring of your cream around the base of his cock and he can see where his seed has leaked down from between your legs while you were on your back. He feels mesmerised by the sight of your ass bouncing each time his hips slam against you with the force behind his thrusts and he can hear your cries of pleasure. 

He has no clue what the time is now, only that the sun has gone down and the sheets are damp from your bodies. All he knows is that the pollen is now in his system too and this is the only way for it to get out: exhausting yourselves with pleasure until the pollen recognises that you no longer have the energy to spread its spores to your partner.  You can feel the ex-archon’s weight pressing down on your back and holding you in place, his body hot and inviting against your back and within you. Your hand reaches out to grasp at his blindly, your eyes having closed with pleasure and the tiredness that’s creeping in. You whimper when you feel his hips stutter, hear his moans by the shell of your ear and feel him slowly grind his hips into you instead, fucking his cum deeper into you. 

You let out a whine of protest when you begin feeling squished by his weight and he carefully turns the two of you onto your sides so that your back remains against his and his body can curl around you from behind, holding you close. You can feel the stickiness of your bodies and as much as you want to get up and share a bath with your lover, you barely even have the energy to lift your head. 

“Everything's so messy…” You murmur as you feel Zhongli tenderly kiss the back of your neck. 

“We’ll rest for a short while…” You feel him tug you even close with his arms around your waist and it provokes a little moan from you as his cock is still buried inside of you, “and then we’ll wash up, change the sheets…” His words are drawled out and you can tell he’s just as tired as you. 

“Surprised I didn’t pass out…” You murmur as you’re now fighting sleep just so that you don’t drift off in the middle of a conversation. 

“Maybe next time~” There’s a humour to his voice but you have no comeback, just the feeling of your body being held against his, sinking into the mattress and finally feeling satiated as you fall asleep. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@firagirl @ghostofpolaris

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

What's up, so I know creating AUs isn't a thing I do a whole lot, but I had this idea I wanted to share in case anyone else was interested 💕

King Blackheart AU

Or: A Comicverse AU in which Ballister and Nimona take control of the government like she has wanted to, and Ballister is crowned King

So here's what I got so far:

After discovering the Institution's plans to cultivate Jaderoot, Nimona and Ballister uncover it, which starts a revolution that ends with the death of the Director and reigning King.

Ambrosius initially fights against him, but joins their cause once they prove without any room for doubt that the Institution was cultivating Jaderoot

Since Ballister led the revolution, the people appointed him as the new King, with the enthusiastic support of Nimona, although he isn't especially keen on this new position

Ballister appoints Nimona and Goldenloin as his personal guard. Ambrosius is torn up with guilt over his betrayal and Ballister still doesn't fully trust him, but he appointed him to his personal guard as a show of good faith and pardon, as a lot of people are still angry with Ambrosius for the work he did for the Institution

Ambrosius, always looking to prove himself, is extremely happy to have the opportunity to serve a person he genuinely loves and cares about with the same unwavering loyalty he'd served the Institution with for years

Lots of interesting dynamics with Ballister as the King and Ambrosius as his personal knight 👀 I imagine that Ambrosius would almost fetishize the situation, creating a fantasy in his head that Ballister is the righteous, noble king and he is the knight who is sworn to protect and serve that king to his last breath, and as we know, Ambrosius has a tendency to conflate fantasy and reality.

This also has the capacity to create some angst because he is sworn to destroy anything that would harm his King, but he harmed his king, long ago.

Ambrosius and Nimona still have tensions between them but not as severe, because the final fight between them never happened. They would also cause tension in how they each approach their job. Nimona is extremely demanding, she has high expectations of Ballister as king and doesn't want him to squander the opportunity, meanwhile Ambrosius is flip-flops between his normal, holier-than-though personality where he is insistent of Ballister doing things a certain way (which happens to be the opposite of how Nimona wants them done) and being uncharacteristically passive and subservient

So that's what I've got, and while I've been struggling with the worldbuilding it would take to write a fic for this, I wanted to shoot it into the void in case anyone else would like to make use of it 💕 ty for reading!!

[sohyxn]

OPPOSITE⠀───⠀DANIELLE MARSH.

TAGS : fluff, dani have a huge crush on yn, yn is a dumbass, jealous? dani, the whole fic is more like in dani's pov

PAIRINGS : dani x fem reader, jiyeon ( triples ) x fem reader

NOTES : just finished rewriting it, hope this is better than the og 🙏🏻

danielle marsh, a popular student at ador high school, is known for her outgoing personality and charismatic presence. she was always surrounded by her close-knit group of friends, minji, hanni, and haerin.

despite her extroverted nature, magically there is someone who has caught dani's attention — y/n l/n, someone who's personality is completely opposite of dani's, an introverted student that intrigued her.

every day, dani admired y/n from afar, finding herself captivated by y/n's calm demeanor and attractiveness.

however, despite having the ability of socializing. she could never muster the courage to approach her crush. the fear of rejection and the thought of potentially jeopardizing their friendship kept dani from expressing her feelings.

one afternoon, as dani sat with her friends in the school cafeteria, laughter and chatter filled the air. minji, ever observant, noticed dani stealing glances at y/n from across the room.

"bro" minji called out, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "you've been eyeing y/n for weeks now. seriously when are you going to make a move?"

blushing slightly, dani averted her gaze. "i don't know, minji. i'm scared of messing things up. what if y/n doesn't feel the same way?"

hanni chimed in, playfully nudging dani's arm. "oh come on, dude! you're confident and outgoing. i'm sure y/n would feel the same way as you do. just be yourself and go for it!"

dani sighed, feeling torn between her desire to confess and her fear of rejection. little did she know, fate had a funny way of intervening.

a few days later, as dani walked down the hallway, she noticed y/n engrossed in a conversation with another girl — jiyeon, the ballet dancer for their school? she think . panic surged through dani's veins as she began to suspect jiyeon's intentions. what if she was confessing her feelings to y/n?

unable to bear the thought of losing y/n to a potential rival, dani's determination skyrocketed. she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. with her heart pounding, she approached y/n and jiyeon, interrupting their conversation.

"he-hey, y/n! can i talk to you for a moment?" dani blurted out, her voice slightly shaky.

y/n looked surprised but nodded, "uh... yeah sure" ,excusing herself from jiyeon. dani's friends who was watching ( stalking ) on them exchanged knowing glances, sensing the drama.

as they found a quiet corner, dani took a deep breath and confessed, "um y/n, there's something i've been meaning to tell you. i know this might be so sudden but i've had feelings for you for a long time now, and i couldn't keep it to myself any longer. i know we're friends, but i want to be more than that. will you go out with me?"

y/n's eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. she let out a nervous giggle before responding, "dani, you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say that. i like you too, more than just a friend and i'd love to go out with you."

relief washed over dani as a smile spread across her face. they were both pleasantly surprised to learn that their feelings were mutual all along.

meanwhile, dani's friends, minji, hanni, and haerin, who had been eavesdropping nearby, couldn't contain their excitement. they burst into applause and cheered for the newfound couple.

minji teased, "finally, the great love story of dani and y/n begins! we've been waiting for this moment since forever!"

hanni added, "yeah, dani, we knew you had it in you. now, you better treat y/n right, or we'll come after you!"

haerin chimed in with a mischievous grin, "and don't worry, dani. we'll be your love advisors, guiding you every step of the way."

" what the fuck- have you guys been stalking me?"

"no? why would we?"

"where did you come from then, our class is literally over the next block."

"just shut up and enjoy the moment idiot"

"somehow.."

[scottxlogan]

Helllloooozzz I got really into scogan recently and because people never tag it it’s been hard to find domestic family fics for them and family fics are my favourite thing like, ever, and there’s only so many times a kitty like me can attempt to sift thru the mpreg tag to find something readable before it’s noggin goes a bit loose, so have ya got any recs ?? ^w^ I’ve looked up so many rec lists but no one lists family fics specifically :’3

Welcome to the fandom! You'll find a lot of really nice people here who will be able to point you in the direction of what you're looking for as there are some who probably know better than I do. If you're looking to chat with other fans there's a Scogan Events discord at https://discord.gg/FmJ24gFJ6X that takes part in a Scogan related bingo for writing, art, etc and other small events all year long. Plus, there's some great people to chat about Scogan with too if you're looking to interact with others who love the ship.

As for recs, I'm going to throw this out here for some of my followers to see if they have some favorites that might help you find what you're looking for. Off hand I know that Tweedle has written a few family fics with Scogan. They're up at her AO3 page at https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiAnLake/. In terms of my own stories, I know I've done a few and I'll list them below. I'm sure I'm missing some, but if anyone else has some recs/suggestions, please help me out here and add them for @beepmeowz if you can.

My fics (off hand that I can think of them. Not all are domestic fluff, but I'm sure some of my followers here can help out with the list of family stories)

Working It Out (One Shot/Rated T) Logan's stressed after finding Laura with a new companion who wants to be more than friends. Scott does his best to calm his husband down after Logan tries to follow Scott's approach to parenting.

Gone Forever (Multi-Chapter/Rated E) After the events of The Wolverine, Logan goes on a journey of his own to discover truths about the life he put behind him. An accident, a run in from a face from his past and a misunderstanding lead him closer to the truth he'd been seeking out, but will it be the key to his ending or his happily ever after? (This story features Scott as a single parent to a young Nathan as Logan finds himself finding love and embracing the family that was always just out of his reach)

Saturday Morning (One Shot/Rated G) Logan takes a moment to reflect on the blessings he's been given in his life.

We're All Different Now (One Shot/Rated M) When a mysterious woman from the future enlists Logan's help to change the past by saving Charles Xavier's life, Logan finds himself back in time at a pivotal place in time. With his mission to save Charles in mind Logan finds himself distracted by his feelings for Scott Summers, a man he loved and lost years before Logan was given a second chance to make things right. Armed with the mission to change only the fate of Charles and nothing else, Logan is torn between doing what was asked of him and following his heart to find a way to make things right with the one man he'd been forced to face a lifetime without the first time around. Will the second time around prove to be a means of repairing the damage that was done or will Scott and Logan's ill-fated romance repeat the same pattern with disastrous consequences?

And finally this one is a WIP series with a one shot and a multichapter, but it doesn't have a lot of family stuff yet as I have it still working out but it is a series that takes place after the movie Logan where Logan is still alive and finds his way back to Scott and Laura if you will.

It's up at

Scott makes a bold decision to resurrect his fallen lover, but in bringing Logan back to life, will it prove to be the key to saving the future or the key to destruction for humanity and mutants alike? How will Logan adjust to his return to a world that moved on in his absence?:

[snezario]

Catch Me I'm Falling (Part 1); Vo/x

this is an adaptation of a vanilla fic i had been working on and there's definitely going to be some divergence from the original. i've been so hesistant to post this but i finally decided that i just don't care. i'm very much at rock-bottom and this ship manages to be the only thing that still provides me some happiness.

i know a majority of the fandom/shippers like one-sided radi/osta/tic, but i'm tired of acting like i wouldn't sell my soul for a ca/trado/ra ending for them. if you don't like it, don't read it :~)

it's supposed to be slow burn and there isn't a lot of Stuff yet but i'm throwing this out into our little community and maybe someone will enjoy it

part 2 / part 3

It all happened so fast. One minute he was preparing for tonight’s broadcast and the next Vox found himself struggling to pick himself up off the filthy streets of Pentagram City. Lightly pressing a hand to his throbbing head, he could see his reflection in a nearby puddle. He craned his neck to get a better view, doing his best to suppress a frown as he took in his appearance–he was sporting a crack that ran down the left side of his screen, a visibly torn suit, and a heavily bruised ego.

Vox staggered to his feet before brushing himself off. He self-consciously straightened his bowtie as sinners stared curiously at the VoxTek CEO, or ex-CEO now, but they didn’t need to know that just yet. He tried to keep his head high, shoulders square, and his attention forward as he plodded down the sidewalk, giving any passerby who looked at him for a millisecond too long a menacing glare.

It was more of a threat really, he couldn’t be bothered to use his hypnosis on anyone right now nor is he sure it would be successful.

As he marched further and further away from the tower, the television demon’s screen became clouded, a flurry of thoughts swirled in his mind. Sure the relationship with Val was never meant to last or turn into anything more than casual sex between business partners. But Vox did not see any of this coming, and in hindsight he really should have.

Valentino’s legendary temper had not shown any sign of letting up and if anything had gotten worse over the years, the fact that he tore up one of Velvette’s best models over Angel moving out should have set off the alarm bells in his head. He always thought he had been the glue that held the Vees together, the mastermind behind it all. Valentino was more conniving than he thought and Vox had been played like a fiddle.

It was all so textbook too. Valentino approached him after Alastor publicly humiliated him all those years ago. He was the one to suggest bringing Velvette on as a business partner. He was the one that initiated the volatile on-again-off-again relationship that they had shared for the better part of the past 7 years. Some nights Vox had wondered whether they could be just more than fuck buddies, but every time he brought it up Val would shoot him down.

And so Vox gave up on that idea and told himself he was happy to just have something between the two of them. A part of him was clinging onto the hope that Val would see reason and take him back. Maybe if he could just talk to Velvette, she’d get him to consider meeting with Vox, hearing his side of things.

Looking up he realized that he had been so lost in thought that he actually wound up further from the city than he would have anticipated and was now standing at the bottom of the hill to the Hazbin Hotel. His screen glitched and he ran a hand down the crack in his screen which came as a result of Val bashing his head into the wall. It was starting to interfere with his vision too, everything was a bit fuzzy. He looked longingly over his shoulder, back at V-Tower–despite how far away the hotel is, the neon sign could be seen twinkling in the distance.

Pulling a face, he trudged up the hill. Now standing directly in front of the hotel, he realized how gaudy it looks up close. Like a Vegas casino hotel, he snorted softly at the comparison. He moved towards the front door and stared at the stained glass windows. Vox hesitated, his raised fist precariously hovering an inch above the wooden door frame. Was he really about to stoop so low that he was going to his rival?

Long buried memories of Alastor started to resurface, as well as the burning hatred he had been harboring towards the radio demon flared in his chest. His screen chose that moment to glitch again, temporarily extinguishing his anger towards the smiling freak, as well as the pesky memories. He gritted his teeth and relented with a weary sigh. Vox raised his hand again before rapping three times on the door. What did he have to lose at this point, really?

He pulled out his phone to see if there was already any news on his spat with Valentino, he was almost certain that the moth demon was going to start a smear campaign against him. Before he could unlock his phone the door swung open to reveal Charlie, who was bouncing up and down slightly, clearly trying to keep her excitement contained. “Welcome to–” she began to say before her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

While she had never met the other two Vees in person, she was familiar with them and what they looked like. This had to be the television Overlord, Vox. Although, he looked a little worse for wear, especially for an Overlord. She quickly reestablished her sunny demeanor and started again.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

It was almost too much for Vox when the Princess of Hell greets him at the door. He almost expected his knock to go unanswered, but now that he’s face to face with Charlie he has half a mind to turn on his heel and run back to V-Tower with his tail between his legs back to Val and beg forgiveness, not unlike the way Alastor escaped the fight with Adam.

Vox gave his head a slight shake as he pushed down the impulse, even though it was so very tempting, planted his feet to the ground. He looked Charlie up and down, taking in her appearance. She was almost his height, to his surprise, much taller than she seemed based on her interview with the news anchor Katie Killjoy some months back. Which was ever so slightly intimidating for him, but no matter.

“Your royal highness,” he bowed his head in reverence to her before raising it again, fixating a sharp grin on her, “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Vox–” Charlie was unable to keep her enthusiasm in check and interrupted him with a squeal.

“Mr. Vox, I have heard of you and I am so excited to finally meet you! We haven’t gotten as many guests as I would have hoped. Please come in! Come in!”

Without another word, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the hotel. Despite his aversion to touch, especially when he didn’t initiate it, Vox allowed himself to be dragged past the threshold of the front door.

He gazed around, privately impressed–the interior was actually nicer than he would have expected. During this time he realized this was actually the first time he had stepped foot in the building, well the newly rebuilt version of it anyways. It was not nearly as hi-tech as his VoxTek building, but it was most likely due to that radio bastard’s influence.

He turned his attention back to Little Miss Bleeding Heart and continued, “Right, so I hear the hotel is still looking for recruits and what better way to sell your hotel than to have another Overlord’s endorsement?” The media mogul maintained his grin as he spoke but faltered when he felt an uncomfortable increase in static pressure around him, which signaled the arrival of a certain pompous old-timey prick of a demon.

“Endorsement from you? I hardly think that’s something we could use here,” Alastor’s staticky radio voice grated against Vox’s audio input sensors and he couldn’t help but flinch before making the necessary adjustments. The radio demon’s narrowed gaze pierced through him, and Vox knew that the former was silently taking in his appearance, judging him. His fanged grin remained steadfast as ever, although he raised a brow as his eyes lingered on the crack in Vox’s screen. Much to Vox’s surprise, he chose not to pass comment.

“Alastor,” Vox curtly acknowledged his rival, “I’m just here as a professional courtesy.”

Vox shifted his weight as his last statement hung in the air between the three of them. Why did he lie? Didn’t they take anyone here? After all, they accepted Pentious without batting an eye. With his cracked screen and disheveled appearance, it wasn’t like he even looked like the all-powerful Overlord image he was used to exuding. He was positively exhausted, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth yet, especially with Alastor hovering around.

It was bad enough that he showed up on the hotel doorstep looking like a kicked puppy. At this point, he doubted his ego could take anymore of a beating today. He hoped that at least Princess Morningstar would accept his pathetic attempt of an excuse and not ask any follow-up questions.

Just as Charlie opened her mouth to respond, Angel’s voice cut her off. They all turned their attention to the pink fluffy spider sinner lounging on the couch by the bar.

“Yo, get a LOAD of this! Val and Velvette kicked Vox out of the Vees and have started a smear campaign against him. I’ll bet Val’s going to have me working extra this weekend.”Angel trailed off as he noticed how silent the hotel had become. Alastor and Charlie both slowly turned to look at Vox, his pupils constricted but his eyes were now as large as dinner platters. The sheer horror on his screen was undeniable–well now he was royally fucked.

Vox felt a flush creeping up his screen as the hotel occupants’ eyes bore into him. Angel’s exclamation had invited the curiosity of a few other members of the hotel–the television demon now commanded the attention of the former exorcist angel and cat bartender. And normally he lived for attention, but not like this.

His gaze flitted over each of their faces, most of which seem to be of bemusement. Although there was genuine concern in Charlie’s eyes, which almost made Vox sick to his stomach. Alastor’s expression on the other hand hadn’t changed at all. However, he was the first to break the silence.

“Care to explain yourself, old pal?”

Vox’s mouth opened and his lips moved but no sound came out. His screen flickered as he tried to manually override his audio interface. He was slightly alarmed as his backup fans whirled loudly and liquid cooling kicked in. Hopefully his soundboard hadn’t short circuited. 

“Why don’t we sit down and talk?” Charlie suggested, seeing the distress on Vox’s face. She placed a steady hand on Vox’s shoulder and guided him towards the parlor.

“Mr. Vox, I know you just got here but you’re welcome to stay here while you sort things out. Everyone is wel–”

“HA! Him? Stay here?” Angel interjected, tossing his head back as he laughed. “Pentious was one thing but this is one of the Vees. I’ll bet this is all just another ploy to infiltrate the hotel.”

The pornstar’s mention of Val and the Vees sent a sharp pain in his chest. His claws dug into his palm, but other than that Vox maintained his composure.

Charlie looked contemplative as she considered Angel’s words. She spoke slowly as she worked to process everything.

“Even if he was trying to undermine our efforts… Why did he come here himself? What do the Vees hope to gain from sending the face of their trio to us?”

“Don’t ask me!” Angel threw up all four of his arms in exasperation. “It’s not like I try to understand anything that goes on in Val’s fucked up mind. I’m sure he’s not much different.”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak but promptly closed it, looking reminiscent of a goldfish when she did it.

“Plus did you see the look on Smiles’ face when this guy showed up?” Angel jabbed a thumb towards Alastor. “I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate to go full demon mode and tear Vox limb from limb.”

Charlie frowned at the imagery. She turned her attention to Alastor leaning on his staff-microphone stand in the corner of the room. Despite his initial question, he’d been eerily silent. The radio demon met her gaze before looking down his hands. She looked between him and Vox. When neither party offered up anything, she pursed her lips together.

“Well the offer still stands, Mr. Vox.” Charlie said definitively. She momentarily put a hand on his shoulder and he could feel her compassion radiating off her. Her angelic girlfriend who also hadn’t said a word the entire time, still leaned up against the wall. As Vox makes eye contact with her she scowled, although her expression softened as Charlie approached her and took her hand in her own. 

She looked over her shoulder and addressed him one last time, “I’m sure Alastor or Niffty can show you to a vacant room, should you choose to stay. Have a good night!”

Angel stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly.

“Well this has been all sorts’a fun ain’t it? Imma turn in as well. See ya later, Whiskers,” Angel waved genially at the bartender before disappearing down a hallway.

There was an uncomfortable silence now that only Alastor and Vox were left in the parlor. Again, Alastor was the first to break that silence, much to Vox’s chagrin.

“When you first showed up on our doorstep, I was ready to throw you out. You’re quite lucky Charlie intervened and is showing you a kindness that I could never possess,” Alastor tapped his gloved fingers along his chin thoughtfully as he paused, “You know, this actually might not be so bad. It’ll be like old times–”

Vox was lost in thought but managed to catch Alastor’s last sentence. Thankfully, it seemed like his audio issue had resolved itself. He rasped, “Yeah well, you can forget that. I’m not planning on hiding here for the rest of my existence.”

He winced when the radio demon looked at him keenly, he had hoped that Alastor hadn’t also picked up on the hoarseness in his voice. Pressing a couple fingers to his throat, he frowned. Perhaps the audio issue wasn’t as resolved as he thought. 

“Suit yourself.”

Alastor threw up his hands indifferently, adjusting his lapels as he stood to leave.

“Alastor, wait– I didn’t mean… I just–” Vox’s voice wavered as he struggled to find the words, burying his head in his hands when he didn’t quite get there. A couple of tense moments passed and he was sure that Alastor had probably just shadow teleported away by now. But when he peeked between his fingers, he could see a figure still by the fireplace. Although Alastor’s back was turned to him now.

Just as Vox opened his mouth to speak, Alastor’s head snapped around–a decidedly horrifying sound that made Vox cringe. The radio demon’s grin widened in a way that caused Vox’s stomach to churn with anxiety. That’s never a good sign is it? 

“Let’s take this conversation to my room, hmm?”

The heavy radio static in the space between them made Vox recoil. Oh how he hated when Alastor did that. It always made his systems go haywire or well, it used to at least–with his upgraded components he was less prone to Alastor’s radio interference. He watched as Alastor melted into the shadows, his yellow cheshire grin being the last bit of him to disappear into the darkness.

“Do I have much of a choice?” Vox muttered under his breath before focusing his mind to channel his electrical teleportation abilities and follow his rival. He stopped in front of Alastor’s door wondering what horrors awaited him inside. As he stared anxiously at the ornately decorated door, he noticed that it was cracked open. He pondered his next move… Alastor did invite him in.

With a deep inhale, he pushed open the door. The room was dimly lit and Vox had to adjust his screen’s brightness to see much of anything. In his peripheral vision he noticed Alastor sitting in an armchair on the far side of the room. 

“I’m sure you’re dying to snoop around. I will permit you a few minutes to get it out of your system before we begin.”

He looked around Alastor’s bedroom. Huh. Creepy. It appeared to be a hybrid of rustic 1930’s cabin and a Louisiana bayou that stretched past what Vox could presently see. Despite the swamp-like environment, it was surprisingly cool in the room, which was good for Vox because humid climates tended to mess with his components. He idly rubbed a hand down his cracked screen as a fleeting fuzzy sensation skittered through the circuitry in his head.

The radio demon stayed in his armchair, simply observing Vox’s movements. He strolled around the room, picking up various trinkets. Some of them appeared to be remnants of his human life, while the presence of some others puzzled him because of their seemingly ordinary nature. He never really considered Alastor to be a particularly sentimental person but the objects in his room indicated otherwise. Perhaps he didn’t know the other Overlord quite as well as he once thought.

As he turned away from one of the cabinets, his gaze caught a glint of a metal picture frame on a high shelf. Despite the multitude of items, he realized that there are no photographs, let alone framed ones. He reached up to grab it but Alastor’s shadow slid up from behind him and snatched the picture frame before he could get a better look. Startled, Vox spun around to look at the radio demon.

“I think that is quite enough,” Alastor said, motioning for Vox to sit in the armchair across from himself. He waited for the television demon to settle into the chair opposite of him before speaking.

“As you may know, the hotel is a bit lacking in residents following the extermination. I dismissed the idea before, but it could be useful to have the endorsement of other Overlords. Therefore, I have a proposition for you: I help you get back into good graces with your former colleagues and you–”

Vox snorted, before letting out a derisive laugh, “You really think I’m stupid enough to make a deal with you?”

Alastor’s ears flicked back irritably and he rolled his eyes, “Not for your soul, although it would be lovely to own another former Overlord’s soul,” his eyes briefly sparkled mischievously as the thought delighted him. Vox clenched his jaw when Alastor implied he might lose his coveted Overlord status.

“No, my dear. Just an itty-bitty favor. It’s nothing really.”

“Uh-huh… and what favor would that be?” Vox now had his arms crossed in front of his chest as he raised a skeptical brow at Alastor, unconvinced.

“I will reveal more in due time, old pal,” Alastor said cryptically. The finality of his tone indicated to Vox that pressing the issue wouldn’t be in his best interests. He retracted his hand as Vox continued to cast a doubtful gaze upon him.

“Oooor, you become the laughingstock of the Pride Ring, lose your Overlord status, and worst of all what you’ve always feared–”

“Okay! Okay, I get it…” Vox cut off Alastor, which earned him a glare from the other demon.

“So, do we have a deal?” The radio demon leaned towards him, extending his hand again and smiling all the while. What Vox wouldn’t give to wipe that infernal grin off his face.

Vox narrowed his eyes and searched the radio demon’s smile for a sign that he’s lying, going to double-cross him, or worse. The possibilities were endless. Damn, the bastard was always good at masking his true intentions and beyond his usual mischievous grin, it seemed like a relatively normal deal. Well, as normal as deals in Hell went. And with Alastor no less.

And yet, something in the radio demon’s voice tempted him.

Vox stared contemplatively at Alastor’s outstretched hand. As a fellow Overlord, he was no stranger to deals, nor does Alastor’s notoriety for being THE dealmaker go over his head. Sure, it’s not like he was bargaining with his soul but still, deals held a lot of weight in Hell.

This is a mistake. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to turn back–hightail it out of the hotel and never look back, to grovel at Val’s feet to take him back, that he’s sorry for every argument, every disagreement they had ever had, no matter how small, even if he wasn’t to blame. Before today the thought of begging on his hands and knees would have disgusted him.

There was something that Alastor said earlier in the parlor that brought his spiraling thoughts to a full stop. It’ll be like old times.

Before he had a chance to overthink it, Vox clasped his hand around Alastor’s.

“Deal.”

Alastor’s smile broadened ever so slightly when their hands connected. A brilliant emerald light cloaked the entire room as the two demons shook hands, along with a shrill radio frequency that threatened to overload Vox’s motherboard. Not ominous at all. Alastor’s pupils transformed into radio dials and his antlers expanded both in height and length tenfold. Huh, it had been some time since Vox had seen Alastor’s demon form. This wasn’t even a full transformation–his full demon form was truly a sight to behold, lesser sinners would have cowered in its presence.

Vox shielded his face with his free hand until the light faded. The radio demon released his hand, which he let drop almost lifelessly to his side. His heart was pounding in his chest. What did he just do? Before he could dwell on his actions Alastor piped up.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's say we patch up your screen, shall we?" Alastor brushed off his coat as he stood, one hand clasping his staff as he waited for Vox to respond.

Vox frowned. His scree–? Oh! Raising a hand to trace the crack, he clenched his jaw as he’s reminded of Val’s parting gift to him. He had been so wound up that he’d nearly forgotten about the damage. His attention was momentarily diverted when he felt the unusual fuzzy sensation flit along his screen. Although, apparently that was just the beginning of his problems because as soon as the sensation passed, he completely lost vision on his left side.

“Fuck! Give me a sec, I’m just going to reinitialize my visual system.” Vox’s screen went dark briefly. Upon reboot his face reappeared, but not before it’s covered by an error code indicating that his visual I/O ports are damaged and a warning to cease usage until they are replaced or repaired. He manually overrode the warnings and to his luck, his vision was partially restored not to its usual 4K quality but it would do for now.

Alastor rifled through a cabinet drawer, returning to his chair with a small tube of fast-drying glue. He presented the tube to Vox. “Think this will help?”

“Couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” Vox responded with a half-shrug. He shifted his weight to take the glue from Alastor, but was surprised to see the other demon unscrewing the cap.

“Might be best if I apply it,” Alastor said quietly. Vox simply nodded, still a bit stunned that Alastor had not only offered to help but was actually initiating physical contact. He inched towards the radio demon so that the latter didn’t have to reach as far.

“You know, when you rejected my offer all those years ago I thought you were joking,” Vox paused, gazing at a point past the radio demon’s shoulders at the foreboding darkness of the swamp. It was so quiet the sounds of their breathing seemed to overpower the ambient noises of the bayou. Alastor remained quiet, focused on applying the glue to the crack in his screen but Vox can tell he’s captured the other’s attention with the way his ears twitched.

That was until the dull flickering in the back of his screen that he’d been trying to ignore, decided enough was enough. He only barely registered the sensation when his breath hitched urgently. He angled as far away from Alastor as possible as the tickle crested.

“ihh–ih’DZZTSSHhhuh!”

Alastor blinked at him in surprise. Vox’s screen felt unusually warm as he cleared his throat and tried to breeze over the interruption by continuing from his previous statement. “I thought you’d come around eventually. We both had the highest numbers either of us had ever seen and people’s tastes change so quickly here, I just felt that we needed to stay up with the times. But I guess some things never change, eh?”

Alastor opened his mouth to address the intrusion, only for his teeth to clamp down as he let out a pained hiss. He dropped the tube of glue as he jerked away from Vox to cradle his chest.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vox tilted his head. He couldn’t help but ask, even though he knows that Alastor would probably rather get his ass handed to him by Adam again than admit anything to him. Although he's not the only one to be loath to admit weakness of any kind, it seems like nearly everyone in Hell has the emotional intelligence of a teaspoon, barring a select few. Perhaps that was part of the “being in Hell” package, keep them at each other’s throats so they wouldn’t amount to anything.

Despite the minor incursion, Alastor’s smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest. He addressed Vox coolly, “I’m fine, don’t worry your noisy picture box of a head about it.”

However, the wince following his statement indicated he’s in more pain than he was letting on. Vox stretched a hand towards him but Alastor flinched away. He bristled, baring his teeth at the startled television Overlord, “It’s none your concern.”

“For once, will you stop being a pompous ass, and just let me take a look?” Vox snapped irritably at him.

As the lights flickered dangerously, Vox pressed up against the armchair fearing that he pushed too far. Alastor’s full demon form began to loom over him and Vox would be helpless to do anything. To his surprise, he shrank back down, his black eyes reverting to their usual crimson sclera, and his antlers returned to their normal size. He made a non-committal sound and motioned for Vox to move in closer.

Vox peeled back the soiled bandages and examined the wound, careful not to aggravate it. He’d never been the squeamish type but still had to swallow the urge to make a face. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he was surprised when he caught wind that Alastor had not been missing for that long and had already returned to the hotel. From what Vox had seen through his drones, the radio Overlord had taken much more pure angelic power to the face than most demons would be able to handle, let alone live to tell the tale.

“A parting gift from the first man,” Alastor said bitterly, jolting him from his musings. He felt a bit exposed, not having realized that the other demon had been watching for his reaction.

Turning his attention back to the injury, Vox inspected it further. He’s no doctor, quite far from it, but it seemed to be healing, albeit slowly. Probably would hurt like a bitch for a good long while, and no doubt would leave a nasty scar.

“You should probably change the dressings more often,” Vox advised, to which Alastor gave him a withering look. Typical. He rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Unless you want it to get infected.”

Alastor hummed, returning back to the cabinet that Vox saw him sifting through earlier. He pulled out a pack of gauze, ointment, and a roll of medical tape placing it on the table between them. If Vox had to guess, he’d probably been taking care of it himself, and was not being attentive enough from the looks of it. Before Alastor had a chance to object, Vox picked up all the items and removed the old bandages swiftly.

“Hold still,” Vox mumbled with the tube of antibiotic ointment between his teeth. He squeezed a thin but more than adequate layer on the gauze before pressing it against the wound, hesitating at the hiss that escaped Alastor clenched teeth. Powering through, he secured the dressing with medical tape, so that it was snug against the wound but breathable to encourage it to heal a bit faster. “There.”

The radio demon blinked at the fresh dressing but said nothing. Vox didn’t expect him to express any gratitude and just a little acknowledgement would have been nice, but he wasn’t about to hold his breath for it either. Against his better judgment, he circled back to their previous conversation.

“I know things weren’t always perfect between us but there were moments where I thought you genuinely enjoyed parts of it at least. And now, I just… Knowing that all this time you cared so little for our partnership,” Vox deflated into the armchair with the last sentence and dragged a hand down his screen. Behind the charismatic businessman persona he put on for the press, he’s tired of it all and being around Alastor again was messing with his head.

“That’s not entirely true,” Alastor murmured, staring pensively down at his hands folded over one another on his lap.

Vox did a double-take, did he hear that correctly? Alastor had spoken so quietly he had to turn up his volume to max, only to barely catch what he said. Did his audio system get fused together because he could have sworn that Alastor just debunked his theory. He alternated between letting the comment pass by or bringing attention to it. Fuck it. He decided to probe, just a little.

“Oh? Care to elaborate, old pal?” Vox smirked as he threw Alastor’s nickname back at him. He passed a hand along the back of his vents, which seemed to be a bit sensitive at the moment.

Alastor scoffed, looking up at the ceiling as he started to relay his thoughts, “We had a good thing going. When you first brought up the idea I wanted nothing to do with it, but you were persistent. You started to wear me down and I thought, maybe the idea wasn’t so far-fetched, maybe I was just being stubborn.” Vox was completely enraptured as Alastor recounted his version of the past.

“Ultimately, it felt like your proposal was inviting too many cooks to the kitchen. I have always worked best alone and our partnership was very much an outlier. After that last night, well…” Vox braced himself to relive the painful memory as the radio demon mentions the night, the night that everything fell apart. But Alastor merely trailed off.

His expression warped into something unrecognizable as he continued, “I thought about apologizing and the next morning I went to your apartment but you were already gone. Within the hour, your alliance with Velvette and Valentino was announced.”

Vox’s eyes widened, he had never heard about any of this before. “I-I had no idea. I–” His words got caught on the lump in his throat as he imagined Alastor at his doorstep.

Alastor shook his head, “Of course not. I left for my seven year “sabbatical” shortly after.” Vox angled his head slightly to see a wistful expression written on the radio demon’s features. Caught up in the moment, he asked the question that’s been on his mind since Valentino first alerted him to Alastor’s return.

“Where did you go all those years?” As soon as the words left Vox’s mouth, there was a sharp uptick in static interference around them.

“You never did know when to keep your nose out of matters that don’t concern you,” Alastor sneered. And just like that, the moment evaporated, gone. Alastor’s mask slid back up, shutting Vox out again. In turn, he shoved down whatever feelings had started to bubble up, back into the furthest recesses of his heart.

“The crack is sealed but I doubt it’s fixed. I’m no electronics expert,” Alastor’s tone was matter-of-fact and he pointedly avoided looking at Vox. Instead, he picked up a book left on the table and began to flip through it.

“Figured as much,” Vox sighed wearily. He craned his neck to examine the drying glue in a mirror on a nearby shelf–hmm, Alastor didn’t do half bad. “I’ll have to visit the electronics store tomoro–hihh’IZZZSHuhh!”

Vox barely managed to curl into his elbow as the sneeze sent him pitching forward. The unexpected outburst caused Alastor to jump and Vox was stunned as well. When he straightened up, Alastor was staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

“Uhh… sorry again,” Vox apologized, rubbing his arm sheepishly before turning to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he tilted his head back slightly, “Thanks for… this I guess.”

Without another word, he slipped out of Alastor’s room. His screen is warm with embarrassment, having sneezed not once but twice in front of Alastor. As humiliating as it was to lay out his feelings in front of him, this was so much worse.

Wandering the halls aimlessly, Vox found himself thinking about the moth Overlord. Vox was never enough, he could never satisfy him. Reflecting their relationship made his chest ache and tears pricked at the edge of his screen. He stopped in his tracks, choking back a sob, as the emotions threatened to tumble out. Which turned out to be a mistake as he found himself leaning up against a wall when he doubled over with a harsh fit of dry, ticklish coughs.

When it finally subsided he heaved himself off the floor and went to find a place to curl up for the night. He was too humiliated to find the small cyclops maid demon and ask for a room so he settled for a chaise in the lobby. He shivered violently before laying his makeshift bed.  As Vox brought his knees to his chest, the events of the day replayed in his mind. How fast his whole world has come crashing down. One moment he had it all–a company with his name plastered on it, the status and title of being an Overlord with several hundred, if not thousands of souls to boot (he never really kept track), and a so-so situationship, the next he was at rock bottom–stuck at this tacky hotel for redemption, of all things. Redemption. The ridiculousness of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his head throbbed. God, he really needed to get his screen fixed.Although… the idea of righting one’s wrongs did have some appeal. His fingers grazed the patched up crack, the crack that Alastor helped patch up. They had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, things between him and Alastor could follow suit.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Chicago Part 2 | Renji Abarai x Reader |

part one

author's note: after a long time trying to continue this, i've decided it's best if i just do a part 3 instead to cap this off, rather than try to push it all into one section. like in part one, this is heavily based on music by the band highly suspect, which i will always recommend you check out! the songs chicago, vanity, and wolf (which happen to be my top 3 highly suspect songs haha) are the ones mentioned in this fic and i recommend giving them a listen just to get a bit more understanding for the things mentioned in this fic.

pairing: renji abarai x fem!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of drug use and overdoses, rockstar!renji au, angst

The stage lights are hot against his skin, and Renji's already torn off his shirt and tossed it to the fans screaming in the crowd some time ago. It's been a long string of shows in this tour and he's been out of it most of the time, not that you'd be able to tell through his performances. He's as good as ever, still passionate and still following his soul with every word he sings. It's all he's ever known.

It's an outdoor venue tonight, and it's scorching hot as the show nears its close. Sweat drips off of him and his long, vivacious scarlet locks of hair cling to his back and torso, the cameras on him catching every little detail as he approaches the mic stand again and the lights dim as the last song slows. He's outright refused to perform Chicago the entire rest of the tour, much to the band manager's and fans alike chagrin. Ever since that afternoon he last saw you, where he begged you and you still walked away from him, he can't possibly get through the song without wanting to scream and cry and curse the day he met you.

All the other songs he wrote about you are still fair game, though.

"And I have searched my soul, yeah, for you, it's true." His lips practically kiss the mic and his long, dark lashes brush against his skin as he closes his eyes to hide from the cameras and lights alike. "But nothing ever comes out right. And I swear, I'm headed back to the other side, yeah."

Vanity, he thinks. At least I was honest.

"I can't sit around and watch us both die." His voice rings out, so vulnerable and broken and no matter how many times he sings this song or thinks about you and the good times that are years in the past, he can't help feeling choked up. "Oh no—"

"I cannot watch us both die." Renji says to you as he stares out of the window, rain falling gently as a tear slips down his cheek.

You must hate him by now, if for nothing else than surely for using a line from his breakup speech to you in a song that has been heard by millions.

"Oh no, not I. You know I've gotta try." The following cry is directly from his soul, so beautiful and powerful and he's never screamed so gorgeously in his entire career. Goosebumps litter his tattooed body and the little hairs on his neck stand on end at the feeling— the whole reason for the cameras in the first place is that they're making an edit of the tour, and there's no doubt in his mind that this performance will get a complete video of its own uploaded. It's an older song from album's past that newer listeners likely wouldn't know; what a way to introduce them to his most painful memories.

"I need you here." A damned tear slips past him, and he just knows his face is plastered on the big screens of the venue— even without them, the people in the lawn seats could figure out he's a wounded man. The agony in his voice is more than enough; the lyrics and tears just hammer the point home for those that need to be told explicitly that he's a sad, lonely, broken man.

Crying for the public is starting to become his thing, and he hates what it's doing to his image. But this is the last song of the last show of the tour, and after this… He doesn't get to sing about you for a while. The other band members want a break and it's more than reasonable, he knows. They have families, husbands and wives and happy relationships that deserve tending. He's bitter, but not outwardly enough to try and deny them their love.

He can always go solo for a while, if he really wants to torture himself.

"I've tried and I'll try again. You are my friend. This is not the end."

Maybe he'll go break his own heart again instead. By the time the rest of the band is ready to reconvene, he may just have their next album written. It's been a whirlwind in the months following Chicago, and if there's one thing he's been able to learn during his career, it's that his fans love his pain just as much as they love how he parties. They'll listen to almost anything he wants to talk about— Fucking, fighting, crying, it's all the same to them. His self-destructive misery makes them feel better about their own lives, after all. It's as addicting as cocaine to hear a man spill out his life's woes alongside an insane guitar solo.

He thinks maybe he should keep some of the songs he writes for other people, just to fuck with his fans a bit. Imagine if he didn't sell that one song to Ariana Grande? The reactions would be priceless.

You'd be able to call him out easily though. You're one of the very few people in this world that really sees through the bullshit and knows his passion for what it is.

But why couldn't you accept it? Accept him?

"I can't keep doing this, Renji! Sex, drugs, rock 'n roll— that's your thing! Not mine."

"Well tell me you liked the sex, at least."

Mm, actually he understands entirely why you couldn't.

The crowd cheers and screams and snaps their blurry little photos no one will look at as the music finishes out, and without sparing anyone a glance or thanking everybody for a wonderfully successful tour, Renji's lighting a smoke and walking off stage. It's a dick move but he'll get away with it, as is immediately proven by how they don't stop cheering as he walks out of their view.

The music video finishes off with a shot of Renji walking away, his toned back hidden by the curtain of his fiery red hair. It's gotten so much longer since the first time you saw him. He's always been a gorgeous man, truly. If you could love him on looks alone, you'd still be together now.

With an hour left before the diner closes, you've got a single customer in the entire place and you certainly hope to God he'll tip you well as you approach him with a plastered-on smile to pour him his odd request of a fresh cup of coffee at this late hour. Making ends meet has been rough, and your poor momma works just as hard as you do— you don't know what you'd give if it meant she could finally relax and put her feet up, knowing she'll be taken care of and that you'll be okay too.

Your last guest is handsome at least, with flaming hair that sits around his shoulders and with facial tattoos that surprisingly aren't ugly! You didn't think it could be done, but this random man in the diner has proven you wrong. His hairline puts anime's most prideful loser to shame, but he's still incredibly cute. He's got a napkin out and writes in complete chicken scratch, and his lips move softly as he notates what's on his mind.

"'Hey momma, it's me, your oldest son.'" He murmurs to himself, and oh good lord he's in a band, isn't he? With mommy issues on top of that??

"Your food will be out shortly." You tell him softly, not trying to break his flow. And his eyes never leave the napkin as he keeps writing, but just as you walk away he speaks.

"How late is this place open?"

You glance over your shoulder at him. "Just until midnight."

He nods to himself, scribbling down another lyric. "More than enough time. Thank you."

"Of course, sir."

"Renji."

"He did tip well, at least." You mutter and close out the video as you push away the memory; that night changed your life for several years. How dumb you were in those days! Skipped town with a man you only just met, and a budding rockstar of all people. Your poor mother was worried sick until he returned you home several weeks later, but in the end it had to have been worth it for her— Renji bought her a beautiful house at the very first opportunity he had.

The very house you're currently all alone and watching your former fiancé's music videos in.

In your recommended section is a video you must've seen a thousand times by now. It's an interview Renji had absolutely no business doing for several reasons— he was too famous for the interviewer, namely, not to mention he wasn't sober at all. They always catch him when he's under the influence, don't they? It's their best chance to squeeze out the juicy details of his broken life, their best chance to get real stories behind the pretty words he sings, and anger flickers deep in your soul at how abused he is by others. It's bad enough what he does to himself, but the way his pain is seen as a commodity for likes, views and clicks ignites a rage unlike anything else you've ever felt.

"Your new single, Wolf, what's it about?"

Renji takes a drag from his cigarette, flicking the ashy remains onto the floor. It's a dick move and he's not too fucked up to not realize it, but it's this fucking guy's own fault for inviting him. "Think it's pretty clear."

"Well from what I've interpreted, it's about heartbreak."

"It's about my fucking life being ruined, if you wanna get more specific."

"It's by your own hand though, correct? You've got quite the history of self-destruction, arrests, your drug and alcohol addictions…"

Renji groans to himself. "Can't a guy fuck up in peace? Yeah, sure. I did it to myself, 'cause fuck being happy. You think that's how I like to live?" He flicks away more ashes from the cigarette, not even bothering to take a pull from it now and far more interested in fucking up the flooring.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Renji snorts. "Sure. Nobody else is, so why not?"

"I do think that's how you like to live, Renji."

It's quiet for just a moment, but the redhead recovers with a small laugh. "Guess I deserve that."

"In 'Wolf', there's a lyric that stood out to me. "I was born to rock and now I gotta roll." This is after you say you've given someone your heart and soul— most people don't abandon such a commitment."

Renji's jaw ticks. Why the hell did he come on this show again? To be called out and humiliated on camera?? "I didn't do it for fun, or because I wanted to— I didn't have a choice. It was either stay with her and be happy and lose my goddamn self, or follow the music because I don't know who I am without it and lose her in the process."

"Why not find it? You could be a husband, a father… And still be a musician too."

"But will assholes like you still listen if I sing about tucking my kid in instead of screaming about my mommy issues? Hm? None of you fuckers want me or any other “celebrity” to be happy, ‘cause you don't get your money from that shit. What's gonna get you more views, huh? A picture of me getting married or my latest fuckin’ mugshot?"

For the first time, the interviewer is speechless and Renji flicks the remnants of his smoke at the man before walking off the set, swearing up a storm and kicking things over on his way out.

You sigh and look at the old, faded photo pinned to the corkboard on the wall. Even with the age of the polaroid, Renji's crimson hair still burns bright, just like his smile. His big, stupid mouth is curled into the prettiest smile you've ever seen, with teeth blindingly white despite his smoking habit. Still, you fondly drag your finger down the photo, smiling so gently that your eyes only crinkle softly. The day this photo was taken was amazing, and no matter the tension or the burned bridge between you now, the memory of that day and the good times you had all the time during that era raises your spirits as needed.

The ticking of the clock on the wall reminds you of yourself— it's time you get ready for work at the diner. You never thought you'd be working until midnight at a shitty diner again after you left Chicago all those years ago, but time is nothing but a flat circle, it seems. With a sigh, you pull on your uniform and tie the laces of your matching pink sneakers.

But you don't make it past the front door's threshold before your phone's ringing from a number you haven't communicated with in quite some time.

"Ichigo?" You haven't been too particularly close with him in several years— he was always Renji's friend and rival, though you did have a mean streak on Snapchat still going several years after starting it. "If this is about our streak, I'll send it when I get to work."

"It's not." His voice is somber, and the sound of his sends your skin in a carefully crawling panic. "I just thought you should know about Renji."

"... What about Renji?"

"He's in the hospital."

He hates needles.

"Is he acting up?" If he's acting a fool, he's fine and there's no real need to worry.

But then Ichigo wouldn't be calling, would he?

"He overdosed last night during a party." Ichigo murmurs quietly. “I know it's asking a lot, but… Can I fly you to California?"

Ichigo counts the seconds of silence as you contemplate the idea. He's right, it is asking a lot. Your past with Renji is muddied and his obvious remaining love for you isn't enough to erase that terrible history, even with your own heart constantly pouring out love for the man at every single glimpse of him. He was born to rock and he had to roll; isn't that what he sang?

‘And I’m, I'm burying my pain into somebody else.’ He sang that, too.

"What purpose do you think that'll serve?" Your murmur isn't cold nor laced with any sort of venom or loathing; you're already just a soft breeze away from caving in and calling the diner (again) to tell them you're skipping town for a while— for Renji. It's ultimately Ichigo that'll make the decision that determines if your mother returns from her bridge session to an empty house and a Post-It note with too few details on it.

History repeats itself in the oddest of ways, in the most unexpected of times.

"Renji needs someone." Ichigo's pleading is pitiful and awfully unlike him; desperation doesn't suit him one bit. "A lot of things have changed that you don't know about… I can't look after him anymore."

"Look after him?" A sly, mischievous little smile tilts your lips at how you recall the old days with the old group, where Renji and Ichigo went head-to-head on the dumbest arguments, stupid ideas and drinking contests just about every day and night. "You remember yourself in a much better light than I do."

Despite himself, your old friend laughs on the other end. "I'm a father now, with responsibilities! That old way of life is behind me."

You laugh with him and step back into the house, jogging upstairs to your bedroom once again. "Give me my flight details as soon as you can."

"Thank you."

That old Polaroid on the wall brings a spark to your heart this time, rather than the feeling of emptiness and nostalgia it usually does.

"Baby, I met you in downtown Chicago." You sing under your breath, just as your phone lights up with the information that sets a fire up under your ass to pack quickly— that jerk chose a flight that departs in three hours!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

yessss thank you!!

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

I do! Most fics I write are because I want to see a very specific plot, or a very specific approach to the characters that I have yet to see. So I'm always first and foremost writing for myself, the audience is second.

And yeah, I for sure reread my fics. It's fun!

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

too many lol

Stuff I've actively tinkering away on but haven't published anything yet:

Sequel to What Makes a King ; there's a Vetinari/Downey in the works that I've been rather quiet about ; there's a Shardlake/Barak "but what if possession was real" fic...

Stuff I noodle around in my head that may or may not see the light of day:

What if Downey was a really, really fucked up kind of monstrous werewolf. What then? ; Grima Becomes King - there's shenanigans of working for Sauron, of course. But then there's a bit where he betrays Sauron and everyone is shocked except Eomer who stares into the camera and is like "folks. His name is Grima I-Betray-Everyone-At-Least-Once son of Galmod called Wormtongue. How is anyone surprised?" ; some vague Downey & His Illegitimate Daughter something something - it's very loose ; Krennic and Tarkin part III of the fractal and butterfly series this time with more Space Millenarianism but they're actually getting close to ending the world/universe ; Napoleon & Arthur Meet Grendel and Lots of People Are Brutally Murdered in Fucked Up Ways ; Napoleon Returns to France but this time there are Murder Fairies ....

ummm I think those are the main ones that occupy my thoughts

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

film/tv series for sure - and I'm really torn between Thus Always, What Makes a King, and San Giovanni. Because I want to see all three on the screen, it'd be so fun.

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

Generally. I usually have some idea of the broad overview of the story. So I know the big beats before I start writing/shortly after I start. Sometimes I need to get a chapter or two out of me before the story has enough movement to take proper shape in my head.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I was initially nervous to post my Tarkin/Krennic stuff because I was intimidated by the fandom. I worried people wouldn't like my stuff, but that didn't end up being the case at all.

Otherwise I'm not sure I was ever nervous about sharing what I've written. Even the stuff I've gotten weird hate over (it's all the Grima/Eomer stuff), I was never nervous about it. I suppose I don't see the point? People are generally happy when there's more content.

I know most of fandom is very much: Oh yay there are two cakes!

addenda: oh you know, I'm a little nervous about the Shardlake stuff at the moment. But I won't be by the time I finish and stick it up. And I'm only a little nervous in the sense of "new fandom, I know 0 people here" sort of way. Which will leave as soon as I post.

----

Thank you so much for the kind asks!! <3 <3 <3

[sinnaea]

"Lesson Learned" part 2?

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who read my latest Wesker/Reader fic on AO3 and left very wonderful comments. It really does mean the world to me that it was enjoyed by so many of you, so thank you! I've even received some DMs regarding the ending and the possibility of a part 2. And after much thought, I've decided yes!

The fic was always intended to be a one-shot and this original blog post was actually an explanation why I wanted to keep it that way while also sharing ideas IF the story were to continue. Ideas started flowing and I eventually just wrote an outline for the continuation.

So, here is the first page draft of "Lesson Learned: Further Testing." (If you haven't read the original fic, the link is provided below. Otherwise, keep reading and enjoy.)

Lesson Learned: Further Testing

The warmth of the sun’s rays breaking through the heavy curtains woke you from your slumber. Your eyes felt weighty and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t rise to an alarm clock. But you did remember where you laid; Master Wesker’s bed. Your heart started to thump as you silently inhaled, excited to greet him. Mindful of your master’s presence, you carefully outstretched your limbs and turned to face him. However, the space next to you was empty.

You sat up quick and your eyes scanned the bedchamber. The fireplace was lightly crackling meaning it had been lit not too long ago. And, to your surprise, the floor was clear of the porcelain pieces of the shattered vase and your torn clothes from the night before. The room had been tidied. Worried the master might have cleaned the room himself, you hopped off the bed and began to make the sheets before he would return.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. You quickly turned toward the sound and found Master Wesker standing in the doorway. He looked relaxed and content as he stood in his black lounge pants and with a single hand towel draped over his shoulder. Steam and the smell of body wash emanated from the bathroom. It was refreshing.

Tense yet happy to see your master, you slightly bowed to him. “Good morning, Master,” you greeted with blushing cheeks.

He approached you with a smile. He placed a gentle finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to him. “Good morning, dearheart,” he said soothingly. “How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Hurt. The lesson he had given you the night before did make your body feel sore as you began to notice. But, to be completely honest with yourself, you never felt better just to be given the privilege.

“Let me check you,” Wesker said. He gently turned you around and placed a hand on your back, prompting you to bend over slightly. He lifted the bottom of the button-up shirt you were wearing over your bare rear and examined. “My poor dear,” he said and lightly swiped his hand over your welts. “Come.”

The master led you to the bathroom where you found the tub filled with inviting steaming water. He pulled the shirt down and off your body, held your hand as you shyly stepped into the soothing warmth. His large hands ran all over your skin, washing you. Caressing you. Making sure you were clean and well taken care of.

He was making you hot all over again. It wasn’t just the water. A small moan escaped your lungs and you held back the urge to kiss him. Wesker chuckled softly at your reactions and finally planted a light kiss on your temple. And you just melted.

Clothes were even picked out for you by the master. He buttoned you up in a white dress shirt and tucked it snugly into a black skirt. Making you look sleek and perfect to his liking. In return, as Wesker dressed himself, you helped him with his tie. His usual blue icicles were soft and kind as he carefully observed you. His gaze no longer felt heavy upon you and you were certain he saw you as something more.

[trillscienceofficer]

at the risk of bothering you too much about your ds9 fics, i have to say that i really adored "patience" with jadzia x lenara and would love to hear about how you decided the where/how/why of their reuniting and the inspiration for the things that lenara was missing on trill (with the festival and all) and also your work in fleshing out lenara, especially as a character now acting outside the boundaries of the published story? perhaps i just want to hear all your thoughts about lenara...

I will never, ever pass an opportunity to talk about Lenara Kahn, so thank you so much for this ask!

I'm very flattered to hear you liked “patience” because I confess I consider it a bit of an odd duck among the fic I posted. If I could go back I would probably spend some more time on it, and smooth some things out. Rereading it it's... very obvious to me that I was hashing out my mixed feelings about having left my country of origin, likely for good. Lenara and Jadzia are having the same talk I've been having with myself for the past ten years or so, though I'm far from exiled. The fic does still reflect a few things about Lenara and Jadzia that I think are foundational to my understanding of both characters, and I'm very glad if you found it interesting!

With “patience” I felt compelled to follow rather strictly the prompt I had but in reality... I find it kind of hard to imagine a different finale for “Rejoined” unless something, or better someone, happened to make Jadzia understand how Lenara is really feeling and the kind of obligations that compel her to follow tradition, family opinion, and the rule of Trill law. Most often I see this happening through Kira, like I laid out in “creative approach” (and the very long fic I'll likely never finish about the three of them); Kira, I think, would understand better than most Lenara's attachment to her homeworld and unwillingness to openly defy a taboo that seems so foundational to Trill society, and be able to mediate what I think it's the biggest conflict between Jadzia and Lenara.

Like I hinted in the fic, Jadzia to me has left Trill and her family behind by the time Lenara arrives on the station on “Rejoined”. “Equilibrium” made clear how little the Symbiosis Commission cared about her survival (or anyone else's) in the face of maintaining a status quo that is nothing but a bunch of lies; “Facets” made clear how little even her previous hosts cared about Jadzia's wellbeing, with the kind of power that the Commission leaves in the hands of Initiates supervisors. We never hear Jadzia airing explicitly her opinions on Trill governance and the rules (written and unwritten) that joined Trills have to follow, but I think “Rejoined” represents a watershed moment for her in this respect too. With the ultimate taboo for the joined in front of her, Jadzia's decision is ultimately that she doesn't care to toe the line anymore. She wants to live her life free from the strictures of Trill tradition, even if it means never setting foot on the planet again. She takes a big breath, and crosses that line.

Lenara can't do that, though, even if she's obviously torn. On one hand she recognizes that what she and Jadzia have is precious in its unlikeliness (how often do you get second chances like this one?), on the other the episode pretty explicitly suggests that Lenara is generally a rule-follower (there are several remarks to this effect in the script for “Rejoined”), she has a family that she's is very close to, almost uncomfortably so (her own brother works in the same field as she does and is with her on the station!!) and she finds Jadzia's eccentricity somewhat puzzling, and that's imho a hint that Jadzia is very far from the 'ideal' that joined Trills are encouraged to aspire to, and from the image Jadzia herself was trying to adhere to at the beginning of the show. An image that Lenara is very much still clinging to, likely because it's what she's been doing all her life.

There's this big chasm between Jadzia and Lenara and in “patience” I left a bit up in the air how they'd managed to maintain a long-distance relationship. I think in my head this was achieved, once again, by Kira intervening and suggesting to Jadzia that ultimatums weren't going to cut it in a situation like this, and that Jadzia would need to give some space to Lenara's point of view. My reasoning after that was that by the time Starfleet retakes DS9 in season 6, Lenara would be convinced that it's either now or never, and eventually choose exile over the regret of Dax dying on her for the second time. Still I don't think it would be easy for Lenara to leave, I consistently imagine her family being very much up in her business and scrutinizing her choices, and she would have to abandon the very successful academic career she's built on Trill (by the time of “In Purgatory's Shadow” she apparently gets tenure at the Trill Science Ministry). Lenara would still leave, but have plenty of regrets doing so, and I'm sure they would cyclically return even together with Jadzia, their differing points of view not making things easier when it comes to Trill and what it represents for both of them.

I think the the "End-of-Snow" festival I made up was heavily inspired by my own feelings about emigrating—a lot of events and occasions for social gathering that I took for granted or even disdained back when I lived in Italy make me now feel very nostalgic, even if ultimately I can visit fairly often and my partner is Italian as well. I also wanted to hint at Trill having a history and a geography, and my take on this is that Trill has had a greenhouse effect and climate change problem in centuries past that both Jadzia and Lenara remember through their past hosts, but context is easy to forget; even if Emony and Lenara both grew up in the same city, Mak'ala, their experience of it was quite different. It's likely that in Emony's time it snowed a lot less as well, and so the festival didn't quite have the same significance it has for Lenara, whose generation probably sees it as a tradition brought back from the brink of climate disaster.

There is a lot more I could say about Lenara! Over the years I came up with a version of her that maybe is idiosyncratic; she's both a bit anxious and prone to overrate her ability to approach situations rationally (ie she looks collected but she's very much not!). She's curious to see where things will lead to, only to regret the paths these will take her onto. She has this strange sense of humor where she mostly reacts to what people are saying to her, because of a lifelong habit of close scrutiny (from family, from the Initiate Program) which made her somewhat passive, although her personality and convictions definitely peek through when they have the chance. She often goes hiking in the mountains completely alone. Ultimately I think she's a romantic who wishes she weren't, a woman with strong desires that she's had to either channel through narrow paths (the joining, the academic career) or to stifle entirely, and it's the kind of combination that imho makes for explosive problems that tend to involve other people. I do love a repressed lesbian!

I think her family is rather traditional too—imho both Lenara and Bejal were expected to try to join, and this has driven a wedge between the two siblings once Lenara was accepted into the Program and he wasn't (or maybe he washed out—either way he isn't joined, and I believe 'Otner' is their family name). I think Bejal and Lenara have been in competition all their lives, and he's rarely managed to best her (quite frankly because I think she's smarter than him), but this also has put a lot of pressure on Lenara to behave and perform 'correctly' in every situation, no mistakes allowed. I think this is why she has such a hard time to even admit that what she wants is even possible, not to mention the extraordinary amount of grief she's inherited from Nilani (whom I think is Lenara's direct predecessor, and for whom I have a lot of thoughts as well!).

It's all very interesting and I could on forever but I think I'll stop here. Do let me know if you have further thoughts!! Again, always glad to talk about Lenara or any of the Kahn hosts.

[hyperfixation-symposium]

A1 Quests- plant flowers near the adoption center and tell the baby a story about sharing.

(short fic)

From day one, the void creature was pretty sure they had off put the other parents enough that they'd never see the egg again. It wasn't intentional, most people just found something to be unsettling about the void, and opted to stay away from them.

Apparently, mortals found it "terrifying" when one lurks in the shadows with a sketchbook, or stood silently with flowers outside of the kids events. To be honest, they were just nervous, and didn't know much about socializing.

Regardless of all that, they still had an incredible fondness for the kid they saw in the distance. They had cleaned up the house, set a room aside, all decorated with things the other children they'd encountered had enjoyed. Just in case.

It was their own nervousness to approach that kept them away from the others, but even so, they didn't know how to fix it. So they'd be prepared when the day came.

The knock at the door came when they were stitching a torn stuffed toy, repairing the small holes from which the stuffing escaped. The Void's attention quickly shifted to it, seeing a face through the door. Oh, they recognized that person! It was one of the few who waved at the creature they were.

The project was set aside as they quickly headed to the door. They opened it carefully, only to be met with the excited bouncing of an egg.

"Ai!" Their excitement was unmatched as the kid placed a sign. The adult with them chuckled.

"Void! It's been a while."

"It has been. You've all seemed quite busy keeping an eye on the little one." They reached down to carefully pet the egg's head. "And some of the others... Well, they don't seem to care to have me too close."

"Nonsense, I'm telling you, that's all in your head!" The other parent replied. "You should spend more time with them, I'm sure they'd enjoy it."

"Ah, I'd love to, I just don't wanna startle the others.." they sighed. "And I'm quite bad at combat."

"Ai has actually been doing quite well in combat! They might even be able to protect you!"The adult commented, before the child tugged at their clothes to get them to look at their sign.

Hello ama Void! I've missed you!

"you missed me?" The Void's voice seemed to break.

The egg nodded quickly, and the adult snickered.

"I told you."

After a second, the void scooped the kiddo off their feet, setting them on their shoulder. "Well, we can't have you sad, can we, cornflower?"

The egg kicked their legs in excitement, while the adult's expression softened.

"You know their favorite flower?"

"How could I not?"

The two co-parenting shared a moment more of conversation, Ai crawling to sit comfortably on their parents' shoulders before the topic of their arrival came up.

"oh, Void, I was wondering if you could watch them the rest of the night. They still have a quest left, but a lot of people have schoolwork and such."

"Oh, well, that would be no problem!" They smiled. "Please, focus on school, I can handle Ai."

"I sure hope you can! They've taken up doing some water bucket clutches, yaknow."

"As long as I'm not expected to survive a fall, I can catch the kiddo just fine!" They laughed.

With that, Ai hugged their other parent goodbye, and Void gave a wave as they ran to get to their own work.

Once the other figure had faded into the distance, the Void stepped out of their humble home, kneeling by their kid.

"So, Cornflower, what quests do you have left?" The colors that made up their form swirled in strange patterns, a sign that they were happy. Well, if anyone had been able to figure that out.

Flowers and Story, Ama!

"I see..." They hummed, pulling off their backpack and digging through it for their waystone. "Do you wanna go pick some flowers then? I know a really good field."

The egg nodded, bouncing up and down as they spun. The void couldn't help but smile, petting them on their head.

"Alrighty then, I'll put down a share stone for you!"

Within a moment, they stood within a lush flowering field. The grass swayed in the wind, and birds chirping at lazy bumblebees pollinating flowers of every color of the rainbow. The sun was probably an hour from setting, but the coolness of night had still begun to seep into the environment.

With a flash of purple, Ai appeared alongside their parent, before they carefully broke the cyan waystone, pocketing it.

The egg seemed to take in the environment, the smile in their parents eye clear as day.

"Well, Cornflower, which ones do you wanna plant outside the adoption center?"

A sign was placed. The void knelt, keeping a keen eye as they wrote.

Can I use all of them, Ama?

"Of course!' They couldn't have beamed brighter, and the egg was quick to dash into the grass. Void followed, chuckling happily.

"Ai, don't go too fast!" They chuckled. "I don't wanna loose you!"

The egg slowed down at that, but regardless it didn't seem to matter. They were starting to collect any flowers they came across, readying them to be transferred across the world.

The Void sat down as well, picking some flowers they loved to go out front of the adoption center. They were building a gradient, soon absorbed enough in their work that they almost didn't notice the small nudge Ai gave them to get their attention.

"hm? What is it, cornflo-"

They stopped speaking as their child grew closer, setting a small okay bouquet of blue orchids in their hands.

"Ai..." Their voice melted, eyes softer than butter set on their kid. "How did you know that these were my favorites?"

You told me, Ama! You gave them to me on my first day.

"oh, my dear, you were so overwhelmed I would have sworn you would have forgotten...' They set everything aside, scooping up the kid in their arms. "Thank you Ai, this is the best."

For a moment, they savored the moment, holding their beloved kid in the warm sunset, attempting to hide the tears that fell from their cheeks. The wind even seemed to hold its breath to let parent and child have their moment.

But every good moment has to end, and soon Void sat quietly next to Ai as they typed another sign.

Ama, why do you always pick those flowers that way?

They looked at their own flowers, a blue to red gradient with a flush of purple in the middle.

"hmm.. why don't we have that be your bedtime story tonight?" They smiled. "After we plant these. It's getting dark anyways, so we need to hurry."

Ai nodded, and the two quickly warped alongside the wall. The sunlight was starting to fade behind the large federation building that dominated the area, but there was more than enough time to plant.

Alongside the other flowers the parents had left, the void and their child planted a rainbows' worth of flowers right alongside the wall. The gentle gradient swayed in the night air, illuminated by the nearby lanterns.

By the time the work was finished, parent and child covered in dirt, Ai was yawning. The Void's eyes softened, gently picking up Ai and assuring them they didn't have to do any more running today.

"Come on, Cornflower, it's bedtime."

The egg sleepily nodded, the void walking back to their house as the stars began to appear above them. They could have sworn Ai dozed off during the trip, however, when the Void went to tuck them into bed, the child's handed them a book.

Ama, you promised me a story

"Oh, cornflower, I haven't forgotten! I'm so sorry." They sighed, taking a seat at the end of the child's bed. "alright, I'll tell you about sharing and about the flowers, okay?"

The child nodded, sleepily holding a stuffed animal close, eyes fixated on their parent.

"You see, before your ama came to this island, they were a storyteller. And they loved telling stories with others, but they were almost always too scared to share their ideas with others.

When your ama got the confidence, they joined in groups where people would play pretend with their characters from their stories. And one day, while playing pretend, your ama's character met someone very interesting.

You see, ama's character was blue, just like me. This character was red, and so was the person who controlled them. However, they learned quickly that sharing their stories and their characters with this red person made a stunning shade of purple.

It wasn't always that easy, of course. Because Blue and Red don't always mix well. But..."

The soft snoring of their child stopped them from speaking. Ai was asleep.

A smile spread across their face, and Void carefully stood up. They put their head close to their egg, their glowing seeing to make the child smile in their sleep.

"I'll tell you the rest tommorow, Cornflower. Maybe your ama just needs to learn to share again...."

Carefully, they closed the door of the sleeping egg, picking back up their sewing project. The stuffed friend, red as ever, smiled up at them.

"Yeah. I just need to learn how to share."

[fieri-sentio-et-excrucior]

Now it's your turn! 😍

👻Trick or Treat! 👻

Ok, so I've never been good at tricks but I do like giving out treats 😊 and I remembered you enjoyed my previous omegaverse fic and I've recently started writing a new one - I've got the full outline but haven't written much yet, but here is a short snippet to hopefully whet your appetite 😊

Xiao Xingchen had never set foot in an establishment like this before. Since presenting as an alpha while still living amongst the secluded mountain sect of his master, Baoshan-sanren, he had learned how to reduce the effects of his rut through mindful meditation and the judicious use of select herbs, and for a long time, he hadn't been able to understand why some people claimed to feel such distress if they didn't have an omega to spend their rut with. However, after he had left the mountain behind and joined main society, he found his ruts were increasingly worsening, feeling stronger and lasting longer than ever before. The noise, the dirt, the smells of this world were vastly different from the pure, quiet, clean environment on the mountain and they infiltrated his mind, pulling him out of his meditation and drawing his attention to the urgent desire thrumming through his body. The herbs available here, too, were of a lower quality and did little to suppress the hormones driving his ruts.

The result was that after his last rut, which had filled him with a desperate, despairing agony, his body screaming for the touch of an omega, to fulfill his biological purpose, he knew he couldn't go through that again and had finally accepted that he needed help.

Establishments such as this one that he was approaching with trepidation were common throughout the cultivation world and were simultaneously revered and despised. They provided a sanctuary for unmated omegas who could not otherwise find their way in life, but in return, the omegas were expected to provide their services to alphas in need, who of course paid the organisation a fee. This money, they said, was to cover the institution's costs to care for the omega, but the price wasn't cheap, and to purchase time with an omega who was in heat cost even more; it was well known that these establishments made a hefty profit.

In Xiao Xingchen's view, providing a safe home to omegas was a noble cause, but the idea of buying sex from an omega who was obliged to accept was abhorrent. He had grappled with himself for a long time, torn between his guilt and disgust at the treatment of the omegas and his own suffering during his ruts. In the end, he had decided to come and scope out the organisation, see how it worked and if there was a willing omega who could help him; but he would give them a choice and if they said no, he wouldn't lay a finger on them, but would leave and deal with his rut on his own.

Xiao Xingchen's footsteps slowed as he approached the entrance and he glanced around self-consciously, but no-one was paying him any mind, used as they were to frequent visitors to the omega house. There was an indistinct sweetness in the air as he climbed the short stairs and stepped over the threshold, a delicious and arousing blend of omega pheromones, and he shivered, his blood suddenly running hot through his veins, a throbbing behind his navel. He hoped desperately that there was a willing omega available here to help him as that enticing scent alone seemed to have heightened the urgency of his rut.

Sorry it cuts off there, the next bit is very rough! But I imagine you can guess who might be the willing omega 😜

[sueske]

Hey there~

Another ask about your recent rant because I thought about that so often, too, and I agree 100% with you.

What I'm really curious about is what you think what kinds of missions Kishimoto wanted to implement and which topics he wanted to approach. I mean I can imagine a few insights of very casual missions (like the one where they have to catch a cat) just to show a little bit of the "normal everyday life" of a genin team. But aside from that I can't get an idea for something that is even nearly as deep as the LOW arc.

I'd be happy to hear your thoughts :)

Hi!

Okay so I've thought about this before a lot because of a fic I'm writing... do I want to give spoilers...

To qualify for the Chuunin exams you need at least 8 missions under your belt, but realistically it should be double that. Iruka said it's too soon for most of rookie 9. Probably as an explanation to the readers for why it was so suddenly introduced, to show how much time the team spent together going on missions, and maybe Kishimoto's own lament and how many missions he had originally planned, channeled through Iruka? Hmm...

ANW the emotional impact of the LOW arc is unparalleled but it was so good because of the emotions it evoked. They were given a mission like that on accident, and technically it was a B-rank (I think). Would this open the door to give Naruto and co higher ones? I could see Naruto complain about wanting more difficult missions like he's done previously, Sasuke too after his internal dialogue of how strong opponents can be found outside the village.

Considering what other themes Kishimoto brought up in the story that had similar impact, I see something like the below happening (in no particular order, at different timepoints):

-If I remember correctly Kishimoto intended for them to cross paths with Kakashi's rival from another village (Gai and his team), so possibly a plot point about that. Possibly if someone like Neji is there, the ideas behind clan hierarchies and how bad things can be within a clan, possibly some Uchiha backstory here too.

-A mission to another village with a jinchuuriki, like gaara, to see how the rest of the world treats them, and having the rest of team 7 (mainly sasuke) understand and sympathise with naruto after seeing his frustrations and develop their bonds so maybe people wouldn't be like 'vote2 is a retcon of sasuke's character' 😐

-A political mission. Either indirectly or directly, maybe leading from the mission above, they uncover some daimyo corruption (for example what happened to Sunagakure in the first place with lack of funding) and showcasing to the readers and naruto that the real people in charge of their lives can be... bad.

-A mission to a war torn country like the hidden rain village and the fall out of that, and having to come face to face directly with the idea that Konoha isn't innocent... some history here.

-A random mission to help civilians (kind of like the LOW) in a country not affiliated with the hidden villages. I imagine a scene where they see some children playing around and some can use chakra a bit, but they don't have anyone to teach them so they have to rely on other's help (kind of like Pein and co). The idea of resourcing being withheld for profit and its ramifications.

-Maybe they get put on different teams for some reason if one of them is out of commission, and they meet Yamato and Sai, and the whole root organisation is uncovered and what they do in the shadows for the sake of 'peace' and the disruption that causes.

-Whether Itachi would've been written as just insane or a Konoha ally... idk. But anw maybe Itachi comes looking for Naruto, or they cross paths with him on a random mission... possibly... I'm on the fence about whether Sasuke would leave the village if Orochimaru never laid hands on him. Would he elect to get stronger with Naruto by going on missions outside the village and fighting with strong opponents? Or would seeing the difference in strength between Itachi and him push him over the edge anw? Seeing Vote1 after seeing SNS build their bond doing all those missions instead of having it off-screened would be so painful tho... but so good. Not sure when Orochimaru would proposition Sasuke though.

Basically, Team 7, specifically SNS together, go around the world, see how the times they live in shape the world around them in various ways with all the different issues of their world, and then Naruto promises to find his own ninja way (like he did in the LOW), and become Hokage to help change that, making allies and bonds with people along the way, etc etc etc.

I have a few ideas about how they could change the things they encounter but I'll leave that for my fic :D

[madnessiseverything]

grishaverse (mostly soc) fics

since i've now posted over 20k of fic for this fandom i figured i'd do a little collection post for them 👀

when i'm beat up and alone, 1.4k words. jesper has a very bad day and gets beat up for his efforts. It’s a testament to his fucked up state—the reason he should never touch another drop of alcohol, a promise he has made far too many times—that they get the jump on him and he can’t reach for his guns in time, long-trained reflexes impeded by just about everything this shitty day has thrown his way. His head meets concrete and the world slides away for a brief, but far too crucial moment. -

live to fight another day, 2.6k words. five times jesper says "this is how we die" and one time he refuses to say it. His mama presses her lips to his forehead, tugs him down to match her height once more. She smiles, bright as the sun above their heads. The tear tracks down her face turn golden. Then those gentle, oh-so-gentle hands move to his chest, and Aditi—beautiful, loving, stubborn woman that she is—shoves. -

anything for love and war, 587 words. jesper gives wylan a key and freaks out about it. But insecurity has always been a loathed companion following his every step, and Jesper has always talked too much. Everything suddenly feels too fast, like he’s falling from a precipice he didn’t even have time to see. He’s never been here before, he thinks with an edge of panic. -

with bloody feet across the hallow ground, 8.9k words, ongoing WIP. everyone is fucked up in a more magical way, kaz is the barrel itself, the wraith receives prayers, wylan still crawls out of Ketterdam canals, jesper loses his soul during a game, and nina dabbles in necromancy. How then, the Wraith muses as she watches Ketterdam come to life with the approaching dark, is it possible that he doesn’t scoff at her mere existence—when faith is engraved into every tool her hands reach for, when the torn loom of her being is stitched up with the very thread that fills his floors with every new prayer a poor soul utters somewhere in the streets? -

all i ever wanted was to be of use, 5.6k words. jesper and kaz are missing inej and don't deal with it in a healthy way. kaz uses wylan's past to get to jesper. He knew the sanctuary he had found would be temporary, that his father would find him again to finish what Wylan failed to do back in the canal. He’d been foolish when he hoped it would take its time. All this time where he thought he had found happiness, he’d instead gotten complacent, let himself be lulled into a false sense of security with Jesper’s laughter and kindness. He should have known better than think he could build himself a home amidst these people.  -

please forgive my ugly, 2.1k words, ongoing WIP. jesper, up to his neck in debt, gets evicted and moves in with nina and inej, finally accepting that he needs help. The last time, Jesper tells himself on his first night, the last time things were this bad, he’d gotten Inej stabbed and irreparably damaged his relationship with Kaz. “This action will have no echo,” Jesper laughs joylessly into the rain thundering down on the bus stop roof. At least this time he alone has to bear the consequences. At least this time he doesn’t have blood on his hands. -

like a true survivor, 2k words. alina climbs into the car trunk of some strangers and ends up as a road trip buddy for the crows. She’d climbed into the backseat, with the Suli woman joining her on the other side. The Zemeni man had slid into the driver’s seat with a bright grin—Alina is pretty sure he was the one who kept laughing last night—and promptly held out an opened tub of gummy worms towards her. She hadn’t taken one until the man pointedly ate one himself as though to convince her they weren’t poisoned.

[starkerhowlter]

Like a Fucking Fairytale

Rating: T Ship: Starker Words: 1318 Contains: Fairies, A/B/O, Stolen Moments, cuddle nesting, Parallel Play, cottagecore domesticity, slice of life but in a forest, Slice of Life, Gardening, Cuddling, Nesting Summary: "Tony's left the city for a fairy." "Sounds like something out of a fucking fairy tale."

Read it on ao3

Dedicated to: @cozysafechaotic Author's Note: So as some of you might know (If you have read any of my fics) that my squishbean beta's my fics. She's my favorite human, the other half of my soul and the literal split of my stardust. Eir the most incredible thing in my life and the best gift the universe has ever given me. I really hope she knows how much ey mean to me. I love you so much squishbean till the sky falls and forever after. Happy 27th birthday, I hope you love it!

Ever since Tony left Stark Industries for the forest he's felt better. It was an accident, really. He stumbled out into the woods one day looking for clarity from an argument with his ex-wife, and from the insanity that is the deal with his cohead. He'd risen from his desk and walked towards the door mumbling something about needing to get away, Pepper and Happy shouting behind him.

Meeting Peter was an accident. He'd tripped over a log on the forest floor, falling to hands and knees, slacks torn. He inhales through his teeth, rising to continue walking, dusting his hands off on his ruined pants. "Fuck, well... Guess I'm taking the rest of the day off" Tony mumbles to himself, continuing to walk down the hidden path. The ground shifts under his feet as he nears a brook, and Tony would swear the water almost glitters.

As he goes to step into the water, a voice whispers from beyond his view, "I wouldn't do that." He shrugs, walking into the cold water. Before he could take another step, however, his senses filled with pain, cold, and the smell of mud.

Then everything goes black.

"Stupid humans..." Peter mumbles, hopping down from his perch in the tree. Rolling his eyes, he approaches the strange man. Next to his head, he makes a soft clicking noise, expecting some form of a reply. Instead, the figure doesn't move. "Why couldn't you just listen to me?" Peter grabs his wrist, dragging the stranger to the bank on the other side, "You would be more useful to me if you were conscious y'know." Peter flips the man over and that's when he sees his face.

And holy fuck is he gorgeous.

When Tony finally comes to, he realizes he's lost. Instead of being in the creek, he's laying in a glade of wildflowers. The smell of mint and lavender fills his nose as a youngish boy comes into view holding a yellow cup. Tony closes his eyes back, pretending to still be knocked out.

Suddenly, the taste of flowers explodes in his mouth and it takes everything in him to not moan at the sweetness. His eyes flutter open just as the strange boy looks away and Tony finally sees him.

This young boy has pointed ears and branches tangled in his curly hair. He looks ethereal. He rolls the sleeves on his cream-coloured shirt up and inspects the damage on Tony's forehead. "Ah, you're awake... How are you feeling?" The boy meets Tony's eyes, caramel color catching the sun perfectly.

"Honestly? Like shit," Tony sits upright, hissing at the pain. "Who are you?"

"I'm a forest fairy. My name is Peter. And you are?"

"Fairy? Are you the kind that steals humans' names and keeps them?"

"By the moon..." Peter mumbles, "Humans still believe that? No. And we never did. It was a dumb fairytale our great great great grandfathers made up so humans would leave us alone. We also don't have wings. Don't ask."

"Sorry, my head hurts too much for this." Tony falls back onto his back, smiling when Peter leans down next to him. "Um... I'm Tony."

"It's going to get dark soon. I've been watching you for a while and it seems like you're trying desperately to get away from something. This part of the forest is protected by magic. Nothing is going to get to you here. I have a cottage just up the path if you would like to spend the night there?"

"I couldn't impose."

"It's just one night... you'll be alright." Peter reaches out to Tony, taking his hands in his own.

That was ten years ago.

_____________________________________

"I'm home! I got the seeds!" Tony opens the blue door to the flower-covered cottage and looks around for his lover. "Sweetheart? Where are you?" Tony raises his head, sniffing the air for the smell of Peter. He finally catches it, the light scent of honeysuckle and warmth emanating from the bedroom. He approaches the door, pushing it open to find a pile of his clothes in the center of the bed. All of his favorite well-worn band tees lay tangled with the duvet, hoodies, and every single towel Tony has ever looked at. "Aww, baby..." In the center of it all is one Peter Parker, curled up and sleeping cozily under a lavender-colored crocheted blanket. He drops the brown sack in the armchair, removing his cloak and shoes. "Sweetheart..." He purrs, climbing into the nest and wrapping his arms around the omega fairy. "What's all this?"

"Alpha..." Peter whispers sleepily, curling back into the man's chest, breathing evening out once again. Tony can't help but smile at Peter's messy hair, devoid of its usual branches.

"Just needin' cuddles, Peter?" In lieu of a reply, Peter nods gently and nuzzles closer. "Well, that I can do. I also have the bluebell seeds you requested for the tea garden. We can head outside so you can plant them after our nap if you'd like. I wouldn't mind catching up on some reading while you do." Peter nods again, eyes fluttering shut. "Alrighty, baby. Talk to you in an hour or two..." Tony smiles, curling around the boy and falling asleep.

_____________________________________

"Y'know you're no use on this, T," Peter laughs, glaring playfully at Tony from his place in the flowerbed. "I can't decide if the chrysanthemums and bluebells can be friends or if I need to put them near the lilies."

"Why don't you ask them? I mean, can't you read the forest, sweetheart?" Tony replies, looking up from his book, turning the yellowed page as he does. His sunglasses glint in the sunlight, and Peter's breath falters. He's never gotten tired of seeing the man in "layman" clothes. While he and the rest of the colony tend to stick to canvas pants and earth-toned shirts, Tony wears lavish suits, pressed jeans, and t-shirts with logos for brands Peter's never heard of. Today it's a tiny upside-down triangle right over Tony's left pec.

"They don't speak to me, I can just feel energies sometimes." Peter defends, placing the Bluebells equidistant between the two patches of white and yellow flowers. "Maybe I should just space them evenly and cut my losses."

"Good idea." Tony doesn't look up this time but instead places his book on the wooden table in front of him. He reaches over to the basket of blooms Peter had trimmed earlier that morning and begins weaving a small crown out of the wildflowers.

By the time they're done, Peter's got dirt caked under his nails and the tips of his fingers are stained with soil. He turns to the older man, finding him asleep with a flower crown in his lap. "Tony?" Peter whispers, nuzzling into his side. "Tony, honey? Ready to head inside? I know it's just the middle of fall, but it's gonna get cold soon and I don't want you to freeze. Besides, I have wedding soup I need to start making if you want dinner."

"I'm up!" He laughs, "I also made this for you." Tony smiles up at Peter, handing him the wildflowers. "I think it should fit?" Peter places it on his head, smiling at the older.

"It's perfect." Peter leans down, kissing Tony gently on the lips. "Now. Food."

"Aye Aye, lovely omega." Peter rolls his eyes at the title, knowing Tony only pulls rank when it benefits him. "I am always willing to let you cook while I read."

"Or you can cook and I will crochet a new blanket."

"Nope. No! You volunteered! I don't want to burn down half the forest because I didn't make the stew correctly."

"And we definitely don't want that..." Peter laughs, disappearing inside the cottage.

_____________________________________

It's been 11 years since Tony ran off into the forest to get away from his problems.

And he hasn't regretted it since.

Thanks for reading!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are MUCH appreciated! <3

[chalkythetalkie]

for the fic asks, BTS but you can choose the fic lol

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]

This is from my most recent one, sex karma:

Ogata arrives at the coffee shop with a few minutes to spare, but Yuusaku is already there. He seems to have been waiting for a while, if the amount of twisted and torn paper napkins littering the table is any indicator. [this is a nervous tic i personally have and wanted to bestow upon yuusaku for no reason]

He thought he’d forgotten what Yuusaku's face looks like, but it all comes back to him in an instant. Yuusaku looks the same as he did before Ogata scared him off for good over 5 years ago – the same lively eyes inherited from his mother, the same handsome, boyish face. [i started working on this sequel wayyy before the Yuusaku Face Reveal, so the original draft mentions Yuusaku having the patented Hanazawa Bracket Eyebrows lol. It was a popular headcanon at the time!] The only thing that's different this time around is his hair, which had been completely obscured in the streams – his current neat side part suits him better than the buzz cut he was sporting years ago, Ogata thinks.

However, he looks like shit today – probably from lack of sleep. His eyes are bloodshot, the skin around them rubbed raw as if he’s been crying for hours. He sees Ogata approaching and immediately sits up straighter, looking up at him with a mix of relief and apprehension.

Ogata's never seen Yuusaku like this before. In public, he's always been the perfect picture of the ideal son. Even during the streams, where he let another side of himself turn loose, Yuusaku still kept this general sense of good-naturedness about him.

It seems that the stress of the situation had been enough to peel back that façade. [if you're wondering how horrible Yuusaku's night was, exactly, he made a panicked Reddit post at 2am telling his story and asking for advice from total strangers online but got his post removed from the subreddit bc everyone thought it was bait. all the while trying to frantically call Ogata and picturing himself being disowned by their dad]

“Brother,” Yuusaku says in a tight voice. Ogata can't help grinning as he takes the seat across from him.

“Yuusaku,” he replies nonchalant, reaching for the menu propped up in the middle of the table. Yuusaku visibly freezes when their hands almost touch, remaining tense until Ogata grabs the menu and opens it. “You want to order anything?”

Yuusaku stares at him as if he's gone insane. “Huh?”

“it’s only polite, after all. You did ruin this table's napkin supply, the least you could do is order something.”

Yuusaku looks down at his hands, his surprised expression betraying the fact he hadn’t even realized he'd emptied the napkin dispenser with his fidgeting. [i also do this] He tries to gather the ruined, crumpled bits of paper scattered on the table, but the resulting pile is even more pathetic than a scattered mess. [yes i've also done this]

Ogata skims the menu and calls a waitress over to their table. “Here, I'd like a piece of chocolate cake and an expresso,” he says. She jots down his order while discreetly side-eyeing Ogata's flustered table companion. “Don't you want anything, little brother?”

Yuusaku stares at him wide-eyed, like he's just been punched in the face. [that's the moment when yuusaku's peepee starts to harden btw] He manages to stutter out “w-water, please,” and holds his breath until the slightly baffled waitress leaves. [i didn't actually picture any particular GK character making a cameo as this waitress, but i invite readers to picture the one they personally think would be the funniest]

Ogata is having the time of his life – it’s about time a Hanazawa feels a fraction of the stress he and his mother went through all those years ago.

“Does anyone else know?” Yuusaku sighs, slumping his ridiculously broad shoulders.

“No. Just me.”

“Oh... OK,” Yuusaku blinks, seems to relax a little. “Then what... what do you want, broth—Hyakunosuke?”

“Straight to the point, huh? Didn't think you had it in you.” Ogata sets his elbows on the table and leans closer to Yuusaku. “But then again, you're a smart kid, right? Father made sure to enrol you in the best schools, and then in the best university... Surely an education befitting of the sole Hanazawa heir.” [i really like the bitterness in Ogata's voice here tbh. this is my favorite scene in the whole fic bc i honestly think i did a really good job at the dialogue]

The waitress returns to the table and Ogata leans back to let her set down the beautifully decorated slice of cake, his expresso and Yuusaku's bottled water. She glances at the small pile of ruined napkins and barely contains a sigh before going back to her post by the counter.

“What would the old man say, I wonder,” Ogata continues, “if he found out that the perfect son he’s invested so much time and money into spends his nights showing his ass to degenerates online?” [he wouldn't even get to say anything, bc the sheer stress of hearing the news would've made Mr. Hanazawa pop a brain aneurysm and die immediately]

Ogata takes a sip of his coffee, entertained by the sight of Yuusaku's face being drained of all colour.

“I... I'll do anything you want, Hyakunosuke!” Yuusaku whispers hurriedly. His eyes are welling up with fresh tears – God, how embarrassing is it, seeing a grown man lose his composure in public? “If you keep this secret... Please, I'll do anything.”

“Anything is quite broad, isn't it?” Ogata eats a forkful of cake, savouring the rich sweetness of it and the distress he's managed to cause in Yuusaku. “Anything implies limitlessness. Would you really do anything to keep me quiet?”

“I would!” Ogata raises an eyebrow at his lack of hesitation. “You... You don't know how father is. How he could get if he knew. “ [i headcanon Koujirou as a very emotionally abusive dad, even to (or especially to!) Yuusaku. Like, Ogata might think that Yuusaku got it easy bc blah blah blah blessed child, and in a way he did! but being raised to be a perfect person who always pleases others WILL fuck you up]

He has an idea of how Koujiro Hanazawa could get when his perfect, legitimate family life is disturbed by something (or someone) as scandalous as this. It wouldn’t be a good reaction, that’s for sure. [massive understatement lol]

“It's a deal, then? You'll do anything I want?”

Another sip of coffee as he watches Yuusaku’s throat swallow a silent sob.

“Yes... Anything.”

“I have the whole thing screenshotted, you know,” Ogata grins. “So don't even think that deleting everything will ever get you out of this.”

Yuusaku nods automatically, and after a beat he blushes violently, as if he’s suddenly realizing what the whole thing entails. Ogata wonders if he isn't dizzy already, what with all his blood flushing in and out of his face so quickly. [not pictured: in and out of his dick, too]

He continues to eat his piece of cake leisurely, letting the uncomfortable silence stretch until Yuusaku is squirming in his seat. He looks like he wants to say something, but Ogata doesn't intend to make it too easy for him. He's already been pampered enough in this life. [i just knowww that Ogata has thought Deeply/fantasised about blackmailing Yuusaku to his advantage before. The whole cake bit was mentally rehearsed for years]

“... H-How much did you watch—”

“—you want a bite? This cake is really good,” Ogata bluntly interrupts, pointing at his plate. Yuusaku’s lips tighten, but he eventually gives a hesitant nod. With how nervous he’s looking, it’s safe to assume he didn't eat anything before their meeting. He must be starving.

He makes for the fork, but Ogata pulls it out of his reach at the last second. Yuusaku looks confused as Ogata carves a piece of cake and points the fork at him.

“Open up.”

Yuusaku freezes, looking into Ogata's face, searching for a way out of this. There isn't one. [Yuusaku's boner coming back with a Vengeance at this exact moment]

“B-Brother—”

“Don’t be difficult,” Ogata says coldly.

 Yuusaku hesitates for a moment longer, eyes darting from side to side as he checks if any of the coffee shop's other customers are looking at them. [they aren't. but the waitress is] Finally, he leans forward and bashfully lets Ogata feed him the cake.

“Delicious, isn't it?” Ogata purrs. Yuusaku nods, chewing carefully. Ogata carves another forkful, and Yuusaku takes his second bite with a bit less hesitation. [yuusaku strikes me as the kind of guy who has major sweet tooth]

It's funny, how he seems to have acclimated to the idea of following Ogata's whims so quickly. Such a natural-born doormat.

“Well, then, let's go,” Ogata says. He rises from his chair and Yuusaku looks up at him, dumbfounded. “You'll pay the bill, right?”

“W-What? Where are we going?” he gets up, a bit unsteady on his feet. Ogata’s eyes don't miss how Yuusaku’s hands unconsciously reach down to tug his sweater in place, over his belt. [boner CONFIRMED]

“We've got some shopping to do.” [i was originally going to detail the excruciating shopping torture in its own scene, but i thought better and realized i had already gotten my point across lol]