#LED Circular Area Light

[ssahotchnerr]

reader helping aaron relax and make out session in the hot tub!!!!!!

hot and heavy

😵‍💫❤️‍🔥🦋!!!! cw; fem!reader, established relationship, playful teasing, a lot of heated kissing, very suggestive content, partial nudity 🫢 wc; 1.2k nsfw - mdni

It didn't take long during your conversation with Aaron for it to become clear that the case he'd just finished had been awful.

You could hear the stress in his voice, the kind that only came from days filled with long hours, endless frustration, a sad ending. There was a tightness in his words, a strain that made it clear just how much he needed to let go and turn his brain off for a while.

And so, once you hung up, you quickly devised a plan to relieve some of those tensions upon his arrival home. Or rather, a nice surprise to return to.

You strategically selected his favorite robe of yours - a short silk one that nearly floated atop your skin - and a bathing suit that barely covered up what it was made to.

You were in the middle of tying up your hair when the familiar sounds of his arrival home echoed up the stairs and into your bedroom. He called out -

"Sweetheart?"

His gaze lifted at the sight of your approach, you having rushed downstairs to greet him. He was in the middle of getting settled when he caught sight of you and froze.

He was far from subtle, letting his gaze linger over you for a moment, breath catching in his throat. Hesitantly with transparent amusement, he asked, "What're you up to?"

"Heading for the hot tub," you answered nonchalantly, making your way to the door that led to the backyard. "Thought it'd do you good to relax. Go get changed, I'll meet you out there."

As if he needed any further persuading, you turned towards the door, cleverly dropping your robe and heading out. A clear indication you'd make it worth his while.

The message was well received. You felt his intense gaze follow your form, not leaving until you were completely out of view.

The steam was curling up at the surface, illuminated by the blue-toned lighting underneath. You got in, enjoying the instant warmth of the water enveloping you, the night air chilled in juxtaposition. You slouched a bit deeper, the water pooling atop your shoulders.

You weren't alone for long; you opened your eyes at the sound of the door sliding open, Aaron joining you in record time.

"C'mon, get in." You pushed your forearms back to lift yourself out of the tub, sitting on the edge with your feet remaining inside. You also indulged yourself, checking him out also. His torso, the veins protruding in his forearms, his muscles openly flexing as he moved about.

He gave you an almost offended look. "And you're getting out?"

"Just hush and listen to me," you ordered lightly, playfully glaring your eyes at him.

He obeyed, getting in. You gestured for him to come near; he sat with his back to you, situated between your legs.

After ensuring he was comfortable, you started working at his shoulders. Really pressing your fingers into his skin, kneading at the lingering tension. It immediately caused a groan to leave his parted lips.

"Feel good?"

He nodded, his head falling back in satisfaction, practically involuntary.

"God honey," you sighed, referencing the case, the one that had achingly kept him away from you for a week. Your eyebrows drew into a troubled line at his stiff muscles. "That bad?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, his eyes closed as he leaned back into your touch. "Amongst other things. Needed you."

You laughed softly, leaning forward to press your lips behind his ear. The touch lingered for a moment before you whispered, "Well, good thing I'm here now."

You continued to massage his shoulders, paying attention to the areas that held the most rigid of his knots. You worked slowly, easing the pressure with gentle, circular motions. You prolonged each squeeze, each touch, hoping it would relax him while simultaneously rile him up in all the right ways. Long intimate contact such as this, after not seeing each other, easily comparable to foreplay.

And it was working. After a minute or two, he turned around, eyes locking onto yours. You raised an eyebrow, biting down onto your lip to hide your smirk. The glint in your eyes, however, certainly noticeable.

Aaron reached for you, using one arm to pull you down and onto his lap. He shifted to the side of the tub, allowing his back to be against it this time.

You looked at him, questionably yet innocently, awaiting his next move.

"You want to help me relax, don't you?" His voice was low, eyes dark with a small smile tugging at his lips.

You hummed in confirmation, quickly tracing a finger along the stubble producing at his jaw, unshaven for a day or two. Brushing away a lone water droplet that had come from the bubbling surrounding the two of you, you added, "I'll do anything."

He leaned in and kissed you, hard. Although expected, a surprised squeak still left you. Your arms found home around his neck and you pressed your front firmly to his, ever so subtly grinding into him as you forced yourself closer. You needed to be as close as you could manage.

His lips moved against yours in practiced yet feverish ease, with both the equal amounts of gentle and rough. He held onto your waist tightly, his fingertips digging into your skin, forceful enough to leave an imprint.

Your hands were soon all over him. To the nape of his neck, back to his shoulders, his broad chest. Indulging in the way his toned, strong muscles felt. Aaron's breath picked up, heavy into your mouth.

You knew each and every one of Aaron's scars. Location, how they felt, size. Your fingertips landed on a newfound, raised line, alerting you out from the haze you had entered.

"This is new," you stated against his lips, pulling away with a swollen pair of your own. Despite the darkness, you could see the red scrape, identifying its freshness. Panting, you manage to say, "It got physical?"

"It's fine. Nothing really. Something we can worry about later." He readjusted you on his lap, against the ongoing currents - again driving you further into him as his lips transferred to your neck.

His plan was to switch the topic, and he was doing a fantastic job. You turned to putty within a second, especially when his lips traveled down to your chest.

Your head fell back to give him more space to work, he sucked bruises into your skin. He took his time, wanting them to be as distinguished and dark as they could - you were his.

You frantically clutched his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. There was no feeling like kissing Aaron. It was exhilarating. You had to remind yourself you were grounded and not floating amongst the clouds.

Desperate sounds were leaving the back of Aaron's throat, hard under you, and they were driving you wild. Your body was practically shaking with need, and an uncomfortable layer of sweat was building on your skin. Hot from both the temperature of the tub and from the heated exchange. You obviously chose to ignore it.

His fingers expertly found the string holding your top, fumbling a moment before tugging it loose.

"Aaron," you laughed with a touch of warning in your voice, peering over your shoulders as your top dipped. No need to give the neighbors a show if you could help it.

"What?" He chuckled darkly, his breath fanning hot. He pried the wet top off you, discarding it onto the floor as your hands dove underneath the water to his waistband. "No one can see. Besides, we have high fences for a reason."

[evan-collins90]

Zorine's (nightclub) - Chicago, IL (1976)

Designed by Richard Himmel

"Although we never entered a speakeasy during Prohibition Days, it must have been something like the experience we had on our first visit to Zorine's shortly after it had opened last January.

Only the address indicated we were at the right place.

Otherwise, we faced a nondescript glass door in the window wall at one end of a new brick building. Inside, there was nothing but a counter where a host opened another door concealed in the brick wall behind him and ushered us into a darkly lit, circular vestibule. Here, we waited while someone was dispatched to find the project's interior designer and co-owner, Richard Himmel, ASID.

Wearing a light colored suit and shirt open at the throat--de rigueur for the surroundings--Richard Himmel emerged from the crowded lounge and led us on a tour of the club. First, we went to one of the two balconies where small tables accommodate groups of two. From here we could look down onto the main dining area and the glass dance floor in which lights flashed in synchronization to the booming disco music.

Next, we went into the buffet area with its copious spread of hot and cold food, and then into the lounge and bar where we were shown the clear plastic piano and rhinestone lady mirrors.

After Himmel had introduced us to the project director, Gregory Stratman, he looked around at the full tables and smiled. "You can't do this kind of a job without some laughing at yourself," he began. Calling it a "very cerebral job," but one that required a "certain amount of glibness," he explained that it was designed to appeal to the young person who "ten years ago was told to cut his hair but who is now a success." In answer to our "nuts-and-bolts" questions, he explained that the place seats 230 and is open from 5 PM to 4 AM. He owns it in partnership with Arnold Morton who owns Arnie's, the well known restaurant next door in the same building. Zorine is Mrs. Morton.

Its style? "I meant it to be a departure from the natural look," Himmel explained. "It is not strictly Art Deco or Art Moderne but a combination of both, a reinterpretation of the roots of modernity and the machine age in a contemporary version of a 20's or 30's nightclub."

Lighting, he informed us, was of prime importance. "The intent was to imbue the entire space with a peach-like glow that makes everyone look beautiful. We attained this effect by working the dimmers and changing the bulbs."

As goodbyes were said, our host looked around again and beaming a broad smile asked, "It doesn't look cerebral, does it?"

Description & scans are from the Nov. 1976 issue of Interior Design Magazine

[noyasmashing]

hear me out... noya gets dommed by his partner who is SOMEHOW shorter than him. (bonus points if he booked them a love hotel. like they spent the whole day traveling and sightseeing in tokyo only for his partner to find out his horny ass booked them a love hotel for the night.)

oh anon, as someone who is 4’11, I LOVE this idea. also my first time writing more than just a hand/blow job so sorry if it’s bad 😓

I’ll try to leave this gn reader since you didn’t specify gender! mentions of the readers “cock” but can be interpreted as a strap! (plz keep the requests coming i need more motivation)

You and Nishinoya had been dating for a year now, and he was eager to escape the rural area of Miyagi prefecture and explore new sights with you.

So, when you suggested spending a night in Tokyo and booking a hotel, he was thrilled! He insisted on handling the hotel booking to spare you the stress, but of course, there was another reason behind his eagerness.

After taking the bus to Tokyo, you spent the day wandering in and out of charming shops, picking up souvenirs and trinkets that matched your unique interests.

As the night drew to a close, you and Nishinoya enjoyed a romantic candlelit dinner, feeling content and ready to unwind in the comfort of a hotel bed.

As you hailed a taxi, Nishinoya quietly directed the driver to a specific location, causing the driver to chuckle. You eyed Noya suspiciously, but he avoided your piercing gaze, pretending to look around with curiosity.

The beat-up car halted to a stop in front of a rather sleek hotel, its planters and greenery framing the modern exterior. The streetlights illuminated the taxi as the two of you stepped out, carrying your overnight bags.

"Yu? What is this," you asked suspiciously, placing a hand on your hip, catching onto the situation at hand. He swallowed nervously, looking down at you.

"I-I... well, [name], I just wanted to spend a romantic night with you," he confessed, hoping to soften your reaction. To his slight surprise, you replied with a smirk as the two of you ducked into the discreet entrance.

Less than ten minutes later, you had him pinned against the door of your room, his hands clutching your shirt as he nervously looked down at you.

"Did you book this so you can be as loud as you want?" you asked in a seductive voice that made his knees buckle. Instead of replying, he half nodded, embarrassed at his own reasoning.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss. Noya responded eagerly, by moving his body closer to yours, practically climbing on top of you.

You pulled away way with a trail of saliva following, “You’ll be excited to see what I brought.” You told him mischievously.

Walking over to your bag with him trailing behind, you pulled out a bottle of lube and his favorite toy. His reaction was adorable with his face flushing red in surprise letting out a small whimper.

With a breathy, "Please," He moved closer to you once again. You couldn't help but let out a sadistic giggle at his reaction.

"Wow, are you already begging?" you teased playfully, holding the bottle of lube and toy in your hands.

Noya's embarrassment turned into anticipation as he watched you with eager eyes. "I-I just... I want tonight to be special," he stammered, his voice betraying a mix of desire and nervousness.

You smiled, appreciating his vulnerability and enthusiasm. "It will be," you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before moving to his ear, "I’m going to ruin you.”

You led Noya further into the room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light. The ambiance was perfect for what you had in mind, and Noya's bashfulness only fueled your desire further.

His spiky hair was now tousled as he lay on the heart-shaped pillow atop the circular bed that you both would be sharing for the night.

At this point, he wore merely a shirt, and his well-defined thighs were widely apart, exposing his cock, that oh-so desperately wanted attention. You chuckled at his vulnerable position, comfortably seated between his exposed legs, exclusively for your amusement. His faint "be quiet" response elicited a gentle coo from you.

He exhaled a surprised gasp as your two fingers, coated with the cold lubricant, gently penetrated his tight hole.

“N-not so fast [name]… we have all night after all.” He reasoned with a shakily voice, fearing he might reach climax too soon if you were too hasty.

"You won't be able to think straight once I'm through with you," you retorted sharply. A hint of disbelief was present in your tone, as you questioned, "Did you truly believe you could secretly book a love hotel without me finding out?" Your fingers, now more assertive, continued their rhythmic movements within him.

He instinctively tried to close his thighs, an attempt to escape the intense stimulation. However, you were swift in preventing that, maintaining control. His response was a feeble, " 'm sorry, please... slow down, slow down or I'll-" His words were cut off as a wave of pleasure overtook him, causing the white liquid to leak from his poor cock onto his abdomen.

"Hmm, already cumming without my permission?" you inquired, detaching your fingers from his sensitive area, drawing a whine from him. Before he could utter an apology, you replaced your fingers with your member, silencing his words with a moan of pleasure.

His hands clung to your shoulder, his voice filled with desperation as you continued your relentless pace. "Too much, it's too much!" he cried, his back arched as you skillfully hit his prostate. Despite the exhaustion in your thighs, you continued your harsh pace not giving him a break.

He could sense tears forming on his eyelashes, an almost unbearable sensation accompanied by intense heat. His inner world was being invaded, as each thrust triggered his prostate.

You grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. In your view, it was a breathtaking sight. His eyes struggled to stay open, tears brimming, lower lip caught between his teeth. His legs twitched, hands tightly grasping the sheet. Oh, what a stunning spectacle it was. You couldn’t resist degrading him once more, “How is it that you tower over me, but right now you look so small?”

Leaning into your teasing words, he nodded, moans dripping from his lips as saliva filled his mouth, his mind not processing anything but pleasure.

You gripped his soft thighs and lifted them, transitioning to a missionary position. He felt the increase in your rhythm, his breath catching as he exclaimed, "Ah- gonna cum!"

However, just as he reached the brink, you abruptly pulled out, leaving him feeling empty as hot tears poured down his cheeks. He cried out a pathetic “noo”, his flushed erection twitching in disappointment.

"You can't expect me to do all the work. Why don't you ride me for a bit, yeah?" you directed in a husky tone, acknowledging the long night ahead.

[earthisnice]

Sensual Streams

Hikaru x male reader

The soft bristles of the broom swept across the wooden floor in rhythmic strokes, creating a soothing sound that filled the quiet massage parlor. The doorbell's sudden chime interrupted the peaceful atmosphere, causing you to look up from your task. Standing at the door was a familiar face that made your pupils widen in surprise—Hikaru, your favorite streamer, known for her wit, charm, and captivating online persona.

"Welcome to Tranquil Haven, Miss Hikaru," you said, your voice barely concealing youadmiration. "I must admit, I'm a huge fan of your streams. You're even more charming in person.”

Hikaru smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Thank you, I must say, your place has quite the reputation. I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately, and I thought a relaxing massage might do the trick.”

You nodded, your mind already racing with ideas. "Please, have a seat. Let me explain our services." You gestured to a plush couch, and Hikaru sat down, her movements graceful and fluid. Youexplained the various massage options, your voice soothing and professional. As you spoke, you discreetly prepared a special drink, a concoction known to enhance relaxation and, perhaps, something more.

Hikaru glanced at the menu before looking back at you. "Sure, whatever you recommend would be great."

"Here, Miss Hikaru," you said, handing her the drink. "This will help you relax before we begin." Hikaru took a sip, her eyebrows raising slightly. "This is delicious. What's in it?" you smiled mysteriously. "An old family recipe. It's a blend of herbs and spices designed to soothe the mind and body."

As Hikaru finished her drink, you could see the subtle changes in her demeanor. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her eyes took on a dreamy quality. You led her to the changing room, instructing her to put on the massage outfit provided.

"You can change into the massage outfit over there," you instructed, pointing to a screened-off area. Hikaru nodded and disappeared behind the screen, emerging a few moments later in the comfortable robe provided.

When Hikaru emerged, your breath caught in his throat. She was a vision in the simple robe, her fair skin glowing under the soft lighting. You guided her to the massage table, helping her lie down on her stomach. As you began to massage her back, you marveled at the smoothness of her skin. Your hands moved with practiced ease, applying the oil in slow, circular motions.

She let out a soft moan, her body responding to your touch. "That feels incredible" she murmured, her voice taking on a sultry quality.

"You have such a gentle touch," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned in, his voice low and intimate. "I'm glad you think so, Miss Hikaru. Your skin is so soft, so responsive. It's a pleasure to touch you.” You smiled, continuing your ministrations. “Just relax and let me take care of you."

Her breath hitched as your hands moved lower, massaging her plump ass. You could feel the heat radiating from her body, the aphrodisiac working its magic. You leaned down, your breath hot against her ear. "You're so beautiful, Hikaru. I can't help but want to touch you more intimately.”

Hikaru turned her head to look at you, her eyes filled with desire. "I... I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Your heart pounded in you chest as you helped Hikaru turn over. Her robe fell open, revealing her petite, perky breasts with dusky brown nipples already hardened with arousal. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. Hikaru responded eagerly, her tongue meeting yours in a dance of desire.

You pull back from kissing her and squeezed a few drops of a special oil into her mouth, explaining, "This will help you relax even more." In reality, it was another dose of aphrodisiac, designed to heighten her senses and arousal.

It didn't take long for the effects to kick in. Hikaru's breaths became shallower, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glazed over with lust. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you watched her react to your touch, her body becoming more sensitive with each passing moment.

Your hands roamed over her body, caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples gently. She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips. "please..." she begged, her voice filled with need.

You smiled, your eyes dark with lust. "Please what, Hikaru? Tell me what you want.”

Hikaru's eyes fluttered closed as your hand trailed down her stomach, eliciting a gasp from her as you reached her trimmed pussy. "I want you to touch me. Make me feel good," she whispered. You began to finger her, your movements precise and deliberate. Hikaru's moans filled the room, her body writhing beneath your touch.

Your fingers slid between her folds, finding her already wet and ready. You circled her clit gently, eliciting a gasp from Hikaru. "Like this, Hikaru? Is this what you want?" you murmured, your voice thick with desire.

Hikaru nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes.. Just like that”. "Oh, god," she panted, her hips bucking against your hand. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You continued to stroke her, your fingers sliding in and out of her wet pussy. Her moans filled the room, her body writhing beneath your touch. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing as she neared her orgasm.

"Cum for me, Hikaru," you whispered, your voice commanding. "Let me see you cum."

Her body convulsed as she reached her peak, a scream of pleasure escaping her lips. You watched in awe as she squirted, her juices soaking the massage table and your hand. You leaned down, licking her clean, your tongue lapping up every drop.

She looked at you, her eyes filled with gratitude and desire. “that was... incredible," she murmured.

You smiled, your eyes dark with lust. "We're not done yet, Hikaru. I want to make you feel even better."

You helped her up, guiding her to the edge of the massage table. You positioned yourself between her legs, your cock hard and ready. You rubbed the head of your cock against her wet pussy, eliciting a moan from Hikaru. You added more dose of aphrodisiac to her mouth and pouring more some oil massage to her body.

"Fuck me" Hikaru begged, her voice filled with need. "I want to feel you inside me.”

You smiled, your eyes never leaving hers as you slowly pushed into her. Hikaru gasped, her eyes widening as she felt you fill her completely. "You're so tight, Hikaru," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "You feel so good.”

You entered her in missionary position, her tight pussy enveloping your cock in a wave of warmth and pleasure. Hikaru moaned loudly, her nails digging into your back as you began to thrust.

Hikaru wrapped her legs around you, pulling you deeper. "Yes, fuck, yes," she cried out, her body moving in sync with yours.

You began to move, your hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. Her moans filled the room, her body meeting your thrusts eagerly. You could feel her muscles clenching around him, her body responding to his every movement.

"Deeper, ooh, deeper." she sounds desperate for your cock. You complied, driving into her with more force, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. Hikaru's moans grew louder, her body tensing as another orgasm built within her.

"Harder" Hikaru begged, her voice filled with need. "Fuck me harder."

You complied, your thrusts becoming faster, more intense. Hikaru's moans turned into screams of pleasure.

"I'm going to cum," she gasped, her eyes locked onto yours. "Fuck, I'm going to cum so hard." her body convulsing as she reached another orgasm, squirting onto your cock and stomach.

You felt her pussy clench around your cock as she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You pulled out, flipping her onto her hands and knees before entering her from behind in doggy style.

Hikaru let out a loud cry, her back arching as you began to fuck her with renewed vigor. "Oh, god, yes," she moaned, her body pushing back against yours. "Harder, harder, yes."

Your hand reached to her neck, grab and choked it, driving into her with deep, powerful thrusts. The sound of your bodies slapping together mixed with Hikaru's muffled moans and cries, creating a symphony of pleasure.

"Fuck.. Fuck.. Fuck.. " she chanted, her face turned red from being strangled, you loosened it your choke, her body trembling as another orgasm washed over her, squirting again soaking massage table even more. You felt her pussy clench around your cock once more, the sensation pushing you over the edge.

With a final thrust, you let out a groan, your body convulsing as you reached your orgasm. You came hard, your cock pulsing as you filled her with your cum. Her muscles milking you dry. You collapsed on top of her, your breath coming in short gasps. Her body slick with sweat and her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You pulled out, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "How do you feel?" you asked softly.

Hikaru turned to look at you, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Incredible," she murmured. "That was... incredible."

You smiled, your heart filled with warmth. "You're incredible, Hikaru. I'm glad I could make you feel so good.”

As you lay there, your bodies entwined, you knew that this was just the beginning. You had found something special in her, and you was determined to explore every inch of it.

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

A Family of Your Own (Huggy Wuggy x Reader):

(Fanart found on pinterest, if anyone knows the artist's name, please let me know so I can give proper credit).

When you returned to the factory for another night shift, immediately you were greeted by an excitable Huggy Wuggy who bounced over to you, scaring some of your coworkers. 

“Hey, sweetie. What’s got you all bubbly, today?” you cooed as you gathered his enormous head in your arms and hugged him. 

True to his nature, the huge, blue furred creature wrapped you up in his long limbs in a hug. Huggy Wuggy always gave the best hugs. 

He drew back a little, giving a small chorus of chittering and cooing. In his eyes, you could see a glimmer of apprehension. 

“You got something you wanna show me, boy?” He nodded. You giggled. “All right, then. Come on, show me your surprise.” 

With that, Huggy took your hand in his and pulled you from the lab and up into the factory floor. 

Through the labyrinth of corridors and doors, Huggy Wuggy eventually took you through to the game room. There weren't many workers on the night shift in the factory. It was mainly the few security guards and cleaners that stayed in the factory overnight but the night time scientists like yourself, only ever stayed in the labs until their shifts ended. 

The game room was huge with a few different areas that led to the game rooms. A huge train with three coaches sat at the back of the room behind a control panel. 

Huggy Wuggy left your side, bolted past the Statues game door and up the steps. 

“Hug, what are you–?” 

With slight difficulty, Huggy managed to pull one of the levers which began to open up one of the doors to the Wack-a-Huggy game. 

You glanced between the descending stairway and Huggy Wuggy. “You want to take me down there?” 

Huggy nodded as he made his way over to you. He lowered himself down and crawled down the stairs with you following him. 

The both of you went down a long corridor that was dotted with several depicted Huggy Wuggys but all in different colours. 

Were there more Huggy Wuggys then this Huggy that you knew about? How come you hadn’t been told about it? You might have to speak with Mr. Pierre about this. 

At the end of the corridor, was the trademark arch doorway that the factory typically displayed. Huggy Wuggy went through, cooing at you to follow him. 

So, you did. 

The room was large and circular with at least a dozen or more holes of a different colour - red, blue, yellow and green. A glass window was displayed high above you on the right hand side but the lights were out. This area was for the factory workers or supervisor to keep an eye on the children playing. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Huggy making an odd screeching call, along with some chirping noises. 

“Uh…Huggy, what are you–?” 

You were then rudely interrupted by a small chorus of odd chirping and screeching just like Huggy’s. Somewhere around you, you could hear scuttling as though something - things - were crawling through the walls to you and Huggy. 

Immediately, you shrank into Huggy’s side, anxiety crawling through your nerves. But Huggy just purred as though content. Then you saw them. Out from the coloured holes, came four small long limbed, all different coloured creatures. All of them a smaller version of Huggy. Just like the paintings on the corridor outside. 

The smaller Wuggys jumped down, landing on the ground in front of you and Huggy. They titled their heads curiously at you and chirped weirdly. 

So, your theory about mini Huggys was correct. 

The mini Huggys were small, about the height of your knees. They continued to chirp and one of them - the red one - began to move forward towards you. 

Slowly, you knelt down and sat down on the floor, keeping your eyes on the little creature. You saw its small black eyes glance up at its huge forebear. Huggy Wuggy made a low growl as though telling the small creature that everything was all right. 

The red Huggy then moved a little closer…and crawled into your lap, purring contentedly. You felt your heart leap up at the of this small creature curled up on your legs. You had not been a hundred percent sure if these creatures would be quite taken to you as quickly as Huggy had when you had first met. But here you were, acting motherly. 

Motherly…

The other three Huggys soon followed and made to crawl in your lap or into your arms. You giggled as you gathered the yellow Huggy Wuggy into your arms and planted a small kiss to the top of its head. It gave a little happy noise at the unfamiliar yet pleasant touch of your lips and seemed to curl more into your arms. 

You felt Huggy Wuggy move to curl around you and his tiny fellow Huggys, also purring. You glanced up at him, with much love in your eyes at the experimental creature. Huggy leaned down and rubbed his large head against yours. 

“Thank you.” you said, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. One of them fell and began to run down your cheek. 

Huggy made an odd cooing noise as though concerned about you. He leaned in and began to lick away the escaping tear from your cheek. 

“Thank you.” you whimpered and leaned into Huggy’s furry form, happy with your new found family. 

(The End)

[neon-kazoo]

It got long again, so more tomorrow, I promise!

Gilded Cage (Bloodstained Ivory pt. 2)

It was an awkward car ride.

His car was exactly what Hero had expected, a sleek black top-model sedan with leather seats and silver accents. She had tried to get in the back. Supervillain—her future husband—had directed her to the front. He even held the door open and closed it, to which Hero held back a sneer. Any day before, and she would have been spitting a comment about meaningless chivalry. But not today. Or ever again.

She was going to have to get used to it.

It was quiet. Few words, no radio. Even the engine had very little to say about the journey. Hero wondered aloud about the fish in a tank she had back home. Supervillain said they’d pick up some of her things tomorrow. It was a small relief, but she hadn't said anything back.

Instead, she focused on the scenery. Anything but her new husband, really. Trees that were various rich shades of green sped by outside the heavily tinted windows and windshield. They were headed a decent distance outside the city, with slightly delapidated roads and only sporadic homes with 'no trespassing' signs to mark their progress. It was pretty, but that wasn't terribly surprising for a summer here. Hero rested her eyes until the car slowed as they approached a stacked river-rock gate. A press of a button and said gate swung open. Hero rolled her eyes.

Continuing on, the car crested a hill lined with evergreen saplings and Hero's gaze landed on a house she had only seen in realtor photos pinned to a crime board. It was so much bigger in person, so much more obnoxious than she had imagined.

Supervillain's mansion stood three stories tall with white walls and a slated roof. A circular parkway framed by shaped bushes is where the car was pulled to a stop. In the center rested a fountain with mirrored statues that Hero made a note to admire more closely later. She was honestly surprised the villain hadn't used a chauffeur, fancy and rich as their surroundings were.

Hero swung her feet out onto the cobbled drive and ignored the hand that was offered to help her out of the car. Supervillain made no mention of it, simply stepping back to allow her room to stand. She made to follow him but he insisted on walking side by side up the path to the porch. The lawn rolled with precisely cut grass covering an area so vast Hero knew the upkeep had to be a full time job. Jasmine crawled up the sides of the entryway and Hero breathed it in while she waited for Supervillain to open the door.

A gleaming chandelier and a grand staircase awaited them inside. Large windows made any synthetic lighting obselete at this time of day. Paintings with gold frames lined the walls inside halls that branched to the right and left.

Waiting a polite amount of time for her to take it all in, Supervillain turned to his fiancée and inquired conversationally, "Are you hungry, or would you like me to just show you your room?"

Hero shook off her wonder with a hint of embarrassment, but kept her head held high as she answered, "The room, please."

The 'please' felt weird on her tongue. It did not escape her notice that he had referred to it as her room. She reserved judgment on the absence of the word 'our,' but immediately rejected that anything in this mansion would ever truly be hers.

Nevertheless, Supervillain led her to the second floor with a nod and the sweep of his arm in the direction of the stairs.

It was tucked into the corner of the right wing of the mansion, right where the carpet runner made a turn. A lilac colored door swung open to reveal a similarly-colored room. An immodestly sized bed occupied the middle of a comparatively more modestly sized room. Violet curtains were drawn across most of the windows, but an open balcony allowed more than enough light through glass doors for her to see.

So this was it. Her new prison.

With nothing else to do, she walked in. Supervillain shut the door, leaving her alone without a word.

Her feet shuffled over a thick and patterned carpet, prompting her to kick off her boots and leave them in the middle of the marble portion of the floor. She ran her hands along the bed and felt between her fingers sheets so silky soft she wanted to gag. The pillowcases were much the same, covering a set of soft down pillows and a larger set of firmer ones propped against the carved headboard behind them.

Pivoting away from the bed, she gazed across the room to an armoire on one wall that didn't really catch her eye. What did however, was located in the corner adjacent to it. Hero didn't think she'd ever seen a mirror so clean in her life. It was tall enough that she could herself from the top of her head to the bottom of her shoes, had she still been wearing them.

Ironically, her mind wandered to imagining herself in that atrocious torquise gown. She could see where her hips would protrude along the side seams and make her wildly uncomfortable, where the flare would rest above her feet and make her look like an abused paint brush. The color she pictured was not dissimilar to that of the walls of her childhood bedroom, which is what made her shake the vision off.

She turned to the balcony doors, deciding she needed some air before the lavender walls and overstuffed pillows of her cell suffocated her. Like many things she had already discovered, she found the balcony to be hilariously oversized, following the length of almost the entire wall of her room. The shock of its size, however, took a backseat to the view she found in front of her.

In the distance, gray towers rose settled in the valley between a ring of mountains. Clouds softened the sky, greeting her as she stepped out into the light humidity. Hero imagined the sunset here must be breathtaking, not to mention the glow of the city lights taking over right after. She spotted a lounge chair placed conveniently for her to lay, so she settled on the edge of it and continued looking through the bars of the rail. For now, the same sun that cast a glow on this mansion cast a shadow over the city. The city that was a symbol of all that she had left behind.

What she was here to protect.

Next part: Singing Bird

[m1d-45]

new sprouts

summary: chongyun in liyue, what will he find? the devil, maybe. god? certainly.

word count: ~1.7k

-> warnings: uh. injury? blood mention. minor spoilers for chongyun lore?

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< prev || < masterlist >

chongyun ran as quickly as he could, weaving between the scraggly trees. the ground beneath him shook, shards of geo biting into the sandbearers around him. the vishaps were quick, more vicious than usual. he wasn’t here for them, having simply been going for a walk, but it seems like his day was about to be far more eventful than he expected.

he pulled himself up into a tree to avoid an attack, the branches shaking as the vishap ran into the trunk. he wasn’t strong enough for this, not by a long shot, not when they were clearly enhanced by whatever malicious energy was in the area. he’d be better off calling in the millelith, or an adepti to deal with the source of energy.

the vishaps clawed at the tree and he looked around, frantic. he didn’t have nearly enough elemental energy in his vision to pull off a big attack yet, and liyue was far more favorable to the vishaps’ claws. he couldn’t run, he couldn’t climb, he’d have to hide, but where?

he climbed higher into the tree, balancing precariously on slightly too small branches. the tree was close enough to a cliff he could jump to it, maybe making it to the top before the vishaps if he was quick enough, but what then? what if there was nothing up there? half the cliff was obscured by the leaves anyway, what if it was an impossible climb? what if-

the tree shook again, something cracking loudly, and he jumped for the cliff before he could think. he slipped a few inches, but was able to find holds easily enough, pulling himself up the rock as quickly as he could. still, it was steep, and he could hear the scrape of claws below him rapidly approaching. there was a dark crack in the cliff halfway between him and the top, but there wasn’t any negative energy bleeding from it. it looked thin enough the vishaps couldn’t get in, and as he got closer he saw light coming from it… with only a moment’s hesitation, he climbed inside.

he could hear the vishaps clawing at the entrance but didn’t try to turn back, pulling himself deeper. one reached deep enough to cut down his side, tearing through his clothes, but he didn’t focus on that. the crack led somewhere, he could see the room open up, he just needed a few more feet to get there. he reached for the edge, his fingers stinging where he’d scuffed them, and pulled. the stone walls bit into him, as if found their best to keep him out, but with a final push he was free, falling to the floor.

chongyun took a moment to breathe, vision pulsing as he cooled himself down. adrenaline pumped through his body, persistent even through his breathing exercises. his head spun, the coolness of the cave doing little to help. he should look around the cave, make sure he’s safe, but he didn’t sense any dangerous energy. the vishaps had stopped tearing at the entrance, and he could only hope it wasn’t because there was an alternate entrance.

wind ghosted over his face, something soft brushing his nose. he opened his eyes, met with the surprising sight of a geo crystal fly. they were normally skittish, fleeing from anything that moved… how strange.

he sat up, the crystalfly fluttering away as he turned. the cave was big, roughly circular, lush plants growing along the walls. light fell through cracks in the ceiling, lighting up the wings of crystalflies as they flew lazily, an impossible amount of life sustained by so little resources. in the center of the room was a stone pedestal, sides too uniform to be natural, a woven bowl of vines sitting atop it.

a quick glance with elemental sight revealed an obvious abundance of elemental energy, dendro lining the walls and floor. what was surprising was the fact that the stone beneath it, including the pedestal, contained far more geo energy than normal. behind the vine wall in the center was something brimming with energy, all seven elements flocking to a core he couldn’t make out.

was this was the vishaps were so protective of? if he felt for it, the core was giving off a peaceful aura, stronger than his own yang, but it was suppressed. the vines, perhaps?

he tried to stand and gave up just as fast, his side burning with pain. he pulled his first aid supplies from his inventory, checking the damage. the cut was shallow, thankfully, stretched down most of his side. he was lucky he’d gotten as far in as he did, or who knows what would have happened.

several crystalflies flew over as he patched himself up, watching curiously. he tried not to pay attention, focusing on keeping his hands steady, but it was hard not to be curious. while most of the crystalflies were geo, there were some anemo and dendro ones as well. it’s strange, this cave is strange, and he can’t tell if he should run for backup or try to deal with it himself.

he pools cryo in his hand and presses it to his side to help dull the pain, stumbling to his feet. the crystalflies stay around him as he slowly walks for the vine bowl. but they knit closer as he approaches, forming a bubble to hide the core from him.

“oh, come on…” he reached for the vines, but thorns sprouted in an instant. he tried to freeze them with his vision but they were resilient, refusing to die. when he pulled his hands away, the frost melted in the next moment, quickly returning to bright green. it was like they absorbed his cryo, feeding it into the core. for what it’s worth, the vines seemed to loosen slightly, at least slightly weakened. so to access the core, he’d have to…

he should probably leave, go find the millelith or call in an adeptus, but something about the core drew him in. he should feel afraid, that he was so attracted to something he couldn’t even see, but… archons, he couldn’t just leave.

he took his hand from his side, placing both on the area he’d frozen prior. the thorns had disappeared at some point, allowing him to press directly onto the vines themselves. with a deep breath and a quick reassessment of his injury, he drew on his vision once more.

within a few moments, his wound began to ache again, but he didn’t pay it any mind. he kept his breath measured and the flow of cryo smooth; a slight sting when he fully inhaled wasn’t anything. he needed to get to the core, irrationally so, something about it drawing him in. it couldn’t wait, he couldn’t stop, his injury would be fine as long as he kept going.

crystalflies began to land on the vine shield, drawn to either the core or the energy he was pouring into it. whatever it was, it was important, important enough that the bubble only began to recess once his vision began to flicker. he leaned on the stone pedestal, breathing heavily, fumbling for a popsicle from his inventory. the vines unknit reluctantly, revealing several layers of elemental energy. first hydro, frosted over in one spot by his cryo. then a thin film of geo, crumbling away, and finally a blue sheen of anemo. so many elements, all refusing to react with each other…

the anemo faded into pale mist, his popsicle nearly falling from his hand in shock. the core of this cave, the thing the vishaps were protecting, the thing drawing him in so strongly… was you?

you, the imposter? you were what the world wanted to defend so fiercely?

…what he had wanted to find so desperately?

he bit another piece from his popsicle, moving his hand from the stone back to his side to soothe the growing pain. he was torn, conflicted about your presence here. you were clearly well taken care of, without a speck of dirt on your skin, but.. you were supposed to be hated. you were the imposter, right? yet all this life, these elements, the vishaps just outside- it shouldn’t be possible. there already was a creator on the throne, and they wanted you dead and gone, but the only thing capable of keeping this cave alive-…

for the first time in his life, chongyun got chills.

(the weather is good in liyue. unusually so. the sun is warm and the breeze is cool, the waters lapping gently at the shore. it’s as if the world can finally breathe, relaxing from the tense storms of the past few months. people find themself with a bit more mora than they had before, or perhaps they find something long lost.)

(the adepti look down from the clouds, glancing at each other in unease. hooves meet the ground in nerves, hands tensing, ready to reach for weapons.)

(the elements are calm in liyue. for the past few months, they’d needed to call in the assistance of the anemo archon to relieve the winds that wanted to rage. the stone has settled, the key lines calm.)

(“what do we do?” nothing. “what did we do?” nothing. red ropes lay tight, a gloved hand set on a mask, both ready to fight against whatever storm comes after this calm.)

(the earth is at ease in liyue. the tianquan steps out of her jaded chamber, yuheng at her side. she watches her city, the port, the taste of imported wine still sweet hours later. the night is cool, the moon reflecting off the waves in rippling lines, and yet both are tense.)

(“perhaps the creator has calmed?”)

(a shake of the head, a twist of the lips.)

(the crystalflies fly calm in liyue. relaxed, happy, content. nobody knows why; nobody but one.)

[sasaleletrebol]

"Safe spot"

Hewo, @strawboxyut sorry, i had to use your son uehuwjekuihjkuw

Context: Atrax asking for affection after a day of “work”.

(dumb clover tries to write again)

His clothes were stained with brown stains degrading to crimson. The smell of metal made his breath catch. Freshly sliced meat, imagining it was like having his stomach stabbed from the inside. He was desperate to sink his teeth into something. But the pain erased the image from his head. As he clenched his fist in the crack of his arm to keep it from snapping in half. Limping towards the nearest force of magic he felt around. The "thing" was refusing to help him visualize the path better. It was rolling around in his skull. One of its “tantrums.” Disoriented he was tripping over trees and ate dirt twice because he couldn't see the roots in the ground. Thoughts stabbing his head. He hissed at any movement nearby. Squirrels scurried between tree branches and birds chirped to warn of the out-of-place presence. His mind went back and forth between the mix of sounds and the strong desire to let his body obey gravity, and perish on the ground. He punched himself to keep his concentration on running. If the portal closed he would be on his own until he found someone or something to return him to the castle.

The smoke that greeted him as he stepped through the doorway was as thick as the forest mist. It barely grazed his nostrils and he took a step back. Debating whether to stay or go rabbit hunting in the mountains. He felt the portal disappear and let the pressure go down his shoulders. He immediately grunted at how dry his throat felt from the stench of dust and cigarettes. Luckily he could walk up and down the castle blindfolded. Grabbing the nearest wall, he crawled along it and slipped through the shadows of the ceiling. A habit he learned to avoid unwanted encounters with skeletons with “open coconut” heads.

After crossing several of those giant doors, the smoke soon dispersed. He dropped to the ground, landing on his tiptoes. Once there, he lowered his upper body until his hands touched the ground. Moving forward with both left foot and hand followed by the right pair. His steps were delicate; they did not echo. He walked through several corridors decorated with huge windows. A perfect look at the mountainous landscape that faded into the clouds and the distance. The lunar light passing through those crystals made it easier for him to see where he was going. He began to meticulously descend a circular staircase that led to the darkest part of the palace. As his only means of visualization were his intuition and nostril. His face bumped into a wall. As he examined the area better, he caught a whiff of wood. Leaning against the solid structure he stood up. He began to fumble around the space until he found the door knob.

The bed sheets were soiled by the filth stuck to Atrax's clothes and body. Trying to take a short break, he closed his eyes, feeling his chest cavity lower and raise. Part of his legs and arms were sticking out of the bed, he didn't have the strength to get comfortable. He let himself give up. He didn't even make an effort to react when he heard the door creak. In his resting state he took a breath of air. It smelled like a garden in the morning. To take a leisurely walk in the woods…. Feeling him take his arm, he moved his head to the side. His pupil dilating, light, illuminating the darkness of that dusty, gloomy room with a beautiful green. Soon the pain faded away. Gradually recovering the mobility of his arm. His first action, sliding his fingers down the cheeks of the skeleton sitting next to him.

“Verno…” -he murmured, faltering.

He got no answer, for more than a word it sounded like a groan of pain. After a few minutes his body was free of that burning pain. His hand was still holding his companion. Once moving no longer felt as if his joints were about to fall out of place. He sat up, keeping his head down as he felt Verno search for more wounds in his bones.

His hands began to trace up and down Atrax's back. He leaned towards him, resting his head on his shoulder. Before he could protest, Verno was interrupted by the purr coming from his “patient”. He began to rub his face against his neck.

-Atrax, cold…-

Verno was already used to that situation. That is why he took care of Nightmare's “pet” last. It was always an excuse for him to stay alone for a “little while longer”. The black rag that this evil spawn wore as “clothes” was beginning to make him uncomfortable. When he came to his senses he slipped the top under his shoulders, leaving his torso exposed for comfort. Once that was done he grabbed the unaware skeleton, catching him in an embrace to lay him down on his bed.

“I-” -Verno tried to communicate, but once again was interrupted.”

“AaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAaaaaaAaaahhhh"-Atrax replied, burying his face in his chest.-

(…. sorry if something is wrong I'm relying on my translator for this one q u q)

[nerdydaydreamer]

Chapter 22: Of Dreams and Deliverance

MASTERLIST

Summary: Plucked from her mundane life and thrust into a glass prison alongside the captured King of Dreams, Nora becomes an unlikely confidante and defiant voice in his silent torment. As a century blurs into freedom, she discovers her own impossible existence is inextricably linked to Morpheus himself, compelling them to face future challenges and rebuild his shattered realm, together.

Previous Chapter

~A Devil’s Welcome~

The short, stone archway tunnel opened almost immediately into a vast, awe-inspiring atrium. It was a large, circular room, a dizzying expanse of dark, almost black wood and polished obsidian, its surfaces gleaming faintly in the flickering light. Intricate, flowing carvings, impossibly detailed and ancient, ascended towards the unseen, vaulted ceiling, depicting scenes both noble and terrifying. In between each arch on the wall, fire sconces blazed with hot coals, burning a furious, bright red, casting dancing, crimson light that chased the shadows across the polished, dark surfaces. The air in this space was palpably warmer, thick with the scent of heat and something metallic, almost like blood.

The central area of the floor was sunken, two wide, shallow steps leading down into a vast, circular expanse. Directly in its center was a waist-high fire pit, heavily carved with grotesque and beautiful designs, yet it contained no wood or fuel. It was merely a bed of blazing, incandescent red hot coals, radiating immense heat, with the occasional ethereal blue flame coiling and wisping out from its depths like spectral tongues.

On the far side of the expansive room, opposite their entry, was a large, ornate opening that led to a broad, dark balcony. Beyond it, Nora could hear a tremendous commotion, a deafening cacophony that vibrated through the very stone of the atrium: a raw, primal chanting, the rhythmic, booming thud of massive drums, and a pervasive haze of deep, infernal red light emanating from the ground below, a stark and startling contrast to the dark, oppressive twilight sky they had just left.

Standing in the archway before the balcony was a very tall person, who held themselves with an undeniable, regal grace. Their short, stark white hair curled slightly at the ends and enormous, leathery wings, remarkably similar to those of a bat, spread out behind them like a dark, imposing cloak, shifting slightly with an unseen current. They were clad in a floor-length robe of satin-looking white, its fabric seemed to absorb the flickering light of the coals rather than reflect it, lending to their shadowy allure.

After a short, charged pause, the figure slowly turned, their movements fluid and deliberate. Nora realized with a jolt that it was a woman, and even from this distance, a palpable dark aura seemed to emanate from her, a curious, unsettling juxtaposition against her stark white hair, which, paradoxically, appeared almost like a halo around her head.

“Hello, Dream,” the woman’s voice resonated through the vast space, cool and clear, carrying an ancient authority that spoke of millennia.

“Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar,” Morpheus responded, his voice equally composed, devoid of warmth or deference, yet laced with an ancient recognition. He then turned his head slightly to the side, acknowledging another figure Nora hadn’t noticed until that moment, partially obscured by Lucifer’s imposing presence. “And to you, Mazikeen of the Lillim.”

The second woman turned her head a fraction more towards Morpheus, and Nora saw, with a jolt of revulsion, that the other side of her face was a grotesque landscape of melted, stretched skin, pulled and scarred in odd, horrifying directions. Despite the disfigurement, the woman bowed her head towards Morpheus, a faint rasp in her voice as she spoke. “Greetings, Dream Lord.” Her eyes, sharp and intense, flickered over Nora for a brief moment.

Lucifer cut in then, her voice abruptly shifting to a saccharine, almost unnervingly cheery tone, utterly fake, a mockery of genuine pleasantry. “You look well, Dream. Are you well? And your family… Destiny, Death, Despair…” She paused, a brief, theatrical sigh escaping her lips, as if the sheer number of names was well beyond her effort level, or perhaps merely a rhetorical flourish to emphasize her feigned concern. “And the others?”

Morpheus’s patience was visibly thin, though he attempted to mask it, his voice tight. “I presume the ruler of Hell knows this is no social call.”

Lucifer took a languid, deliberate step forward, her expression shifting to one of almost hopeful curiosity, a glint in her eyes like ancient ice. “Have you come to join forces then? To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?” Her words dripped with a mocking invitation.

“You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer,” Morpheus responded, his tone unwavering, a steel edge beneath the calm.

Lucifer laughed softly to herself, a sound like dry leaves rustling across a desolate plain. “Well, feelings change.” After a short pause, her eyes, usually devoid of obvious emotion, held a strange, piercing glint, alight with malicious amusement.

"Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals." Lucifer's voice, though light, carried a sharp, predatory edge. She left the archway of the balcony, descending with an unnerving grace down the few steps into the very center of the sunken floor. Her long white robe seemed to flow around her like liquid moonlight. "We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus," she said, her tone dripping with mock sorrow, a theatrical sigh accompanying her words.

"I have come because my Helm of State was stolen from me," Morpheus cut in, his voice cutting through her performance, cold and unyielding as granite. "I believe one of your demons has it. I should like it back." A beat of silence stretched, thick with unspoken challenge, before he lowered his voice, the word resonating with ancient power: "Now."

Lucifer began to walk around the central fire pit, her movements slow and deliberate, her gaze never leaving Morpheus. Her pale hand stretched casually towards the intensely hot coals, and a wisp of blue flame, as if drawn by an invisible thread, curled delicately around her fingers, dancing on her skin without harm. "And if only it were that easy, Dream," she purred, her voice a mocking echo of true sympathy. She paused, the flame twisting around her digits, before continuing, her tone almost a direct taunt, "But there are rules, you see. Protocols. Which must be followed."

Nora, watching from a few paces behind Morpheus, saw a minute tremor pass through his shoulders. He very slightly shook his head, a ghost of a self-mocking smile curving his lips. He should have known. He, who embodied the very essence of rules and cosmic laws, was now being lectured on them by the King of Hell. The irony was palpable.

Lucifer gave him a small, knowing smile, a flicker of triumph in her eyes, before turning sharply. Her wings unfurled subtly, momentarily casting a vast, sweeping shadow across the gleaming floor as she moved. She walked back towards the balcony opening, her white robe trailing elegantly behind her. "Which demon has your Helm? Name it, and we will bring it here."

"I confess, I do not know the name," Morpheus called out, his voice betraying no frustration, only fact.

Lucifer paused at the archway, her expression suddenly, almost terrifyingly cheerful, as if everything was proceeding exactly as she desired. "Then we will have to summon all of them!" She turned, her arm sweeping out in an almost languid wave motion towards the unseen crowds below the balcony, and the distant, drumming noise level increased drastically, swelling into a thunderous roar. Morpheus took several swift steps to follow her to the balcony, his dark coat billowing, and Nora and Matthew following.

As Nora peered over the edge of the balcony, her eyes widened in stunned disbelief. Below them, stretching into the hazy red distance, were not just hundreds, but thousands of demons, a churning, chaotic sea of monstrous forms. Their grotesque faces, horns, and varied shapes were barely discernible in the infernal glow, illuminated sporadically by massive bonfires that dotted the landscape like angry, pulsing sores. The air below was thick with their collective, malevolent presence, their roars and chants rising like a storm.

"There, now, Dream," Lucifer said, her voice carrying over the din, impossibly clear. "You may inquire which demon has your helmet." She then turned her head towards him, her beautiful features tilting in an almost innocently light inquiry. "Shall we interview them one at a time, or…?" A subtle, cruel smirk played on her lips, hinting at the endless, soul-crushing task she was proposing.

Morpheus gave an almost invisible nod, a flicker of resolve hardening his gaze. "That won't be necessary." He turned abruptly, walking back towards the other side of the atrium, away from the roaring abyss and the grinning Devil. Nora and Matthew followed close behind him, neither wanting to stand within Lucifer's immediate vicinity for a second longer than required.

Lucifer shared a quick, knowing look with Mazikeen, a silent exchange of triumph, before turning and following Morpheus, her words a mournful, almost sorrowful lament that was entirely for show. "It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream." Her voice deepened, becoming more melodious, as she walked towards where Morpheus now stood in the central atrium. "We know how you relied upon your tools. But tools are the subtlest of traps. We become reliant upon them, and in their absence, we are vulnerable. Weak. Defenseless." She continued to speak, her words like poisoned honey, enumerating all the ways she believed Morpheus was diminished, exposed, and helpless without his sigils, without his realm, without his strength. Each syllable was a carefully crafted insult, designed to chip away at his ancient pride, to remind him of his recent captivity and loss.

With each word from Lucifer, Nora's anger coiled tighter, the rage inside her building. She could feel the mocking scorn, the insidious joy Lucifer took in tearing down Morpheus. Her free hand, the one not cradling Matthew, clenched slowly into a tight, white-knuckled fist, held just slightly behind her back, out of sight. Her jaw was tight, a silent vow of retribution forming in her mind.

Morpheus, still facing away from them, towards the desolate stone wall, allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smirk to touch his lips. "Not entirely." He reached into the deep pocket of his dark wool coat, pulling out his familiar leather pouch of shimmering sand. He knelt down towards the polished obsidian floor, his movements deliberate. With a practiced motion, he tilted the pouch, and the golden, ethereal sand began to spill out, piling onto the smooth stone in a small, glowing mound. His voice, low and resonant, cut through Lucifer’s lingering taunts. "I have recovered my sand. It brought us to Hell. And it now brings that which is mine in Hell to me."

The sand he had poured onto the floor began to swirl, slowly at first, then with increasing speed, forming a shimmering, golden vortex. Morpheus took a single step back, his eyes fixed on the growing phenomenon. The sand continued to swirl outwards and upwards, coalescing into a shimmering, miniature tornado in the center of the sunken floor. Slowly, within that swirling column of golden grains, a dark form began to appear, solidifying from the ethereal shimmer. With a final, violent swirl of golden sand, the body completely solidified, facing away from them, a tall, hunched figure. Morpheus's helm, dark and intricately crafted, was clearly held in its hands. The figure's head moved slowly, side to side, as if confused, disoriented, or perhaps searching for its bearings. Then, as abruptly as it appeared, the sand dissipated into nothing, leaving only the demon standing before them.

The demon, whose form was grotesque and hulking, swiftly turned around, its eyes, like burning coals, fixing on Morpheus. Morpheus's voice, sharp with ancient authority, cut through the silence. "Tell me your name."

The demon's gaze flickered towards Lucifer, who stood behind them, off to the side, a faint scowl on her perfect features now that Morpheus had cleverly circumvented her attempt to prolong his search. "Do I have to?" the demon grumbled, its voice like gravel.

Lucifer let out a low, frustrated growl, muttering to Morpheus, "That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell."

"Choronzon," Morpheus repeated, his voice low, his gaze unwavering as he addressed the demon directly. "The Helm is mine. You will return it to me."

"No," Choronzon replied, almost childishly, clutching the helm tighter. "It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws." After a pause, the demon seemed to regain a measure of its infernal courage, its voice growing in arrogance. "And if the Dream King wants his Helm back, he will have to fight me for it."

Morpheus's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. "Very well. I challenge you, Choronzon."

The demon chuckled, a guttural, wet sound. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."

"If I win, you will return my Helm," Morpheus stated, his eyes blazing with resolve.

Choronzon countered, a cruel gleam in his eyes, "And if you lose, you'll serve as my slave in Hell." He paused, letting the words hang in the air, allowing their full weight to sink in. "For eternity."

At Choronzon's final pronouncement, both Nora and Matthew sharply turned their heads to Morpheus, their expressions mirroring each other's shock. "For... forever?" Matthew squawked, his voice high with disbelief.

Nora's breath caught in her throat. The casual bravado of Hell, the chilling indifference to endless suffering, suddenly became terrifyingly personal. Forever? A slave in Hell? The stakes just went from bad to unspeakably, cosmically catastrophic. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum against the encroaching dread.

“I accept the terms,” Morpheus stated, his voice ringing with a cold, unwavering resolve that seemed to cut through the infernal din.

Matthew let out a dread-filled caw, a mournful, terrified sound that echoed in the vast atrium. Nora’s arm, still holding the raven, shook slightly, a tremor that ran through her entire body.

“And whom will you choose to represent you in this battle?” Lucifer asked, her voice smooth as polished marble, her eyes gleaming with an unholy light amidst her ethereal beauty.

“I shall represent myself,” Morpheus replied, his gaze fixed on Lucifer, unwavering, his own dark eyes burning with ancient fire.

“And whom will you choose to represent you?” Lucifer turned to Choronzon, her white hair framing her unsettlingly perfect face.

Choronzon paused for a second, his brutish features contorting in thought, the faint glow of the coals reflecting in his deep-set eyes, before a slow, cruel grin spread across his face, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth. “Hmm. I choose you, Sire.” He pointed a thick, clawed finger at Lucifer.

Lucifer bowed her head, a show of fake sorrow, her satin-white robe rustling softly around her. Her voice dripped with mock apology. “Apologies, Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion.” Her eyes, when she lifted them, gleamed with triumphant malice, utterly devoid of the feigned regret. “But if you would not fight me…”

“I have accepted the terms,” Morpheus cut her off, his voice absolute, each word a hammer blow of conviction. “We will challenge.”

Lucifer’s smile became almost saccharine, too sweet, too wide for the hellish setting, revealing teeth that were just a touch too sharp. “Perfect. But first…” She paused, her gaze fixed on Morpheus for a deliberate, challenging moment, then, with agonizing slowness, shifted her attention towards Nora, a calculating gleam entering her eyes. Her hand, pale against the stark white of her robe, flicked once into the air, a quiet, almost imperceptible signal in the cavernous space.

Suddenly, Nora found herself assailed from behind. Two hulking demon forms, their skin like cracked earth and eyes like embers, seemed to spawn from the very shadows of the atrium, their clawed hands clamping down on both her arms with bruising force. Matthew, caught completely by surprise as Nora’s arm was ripped out from beneath him, let out several loud, indignant squawks, flapping wildly with a flurry of black feathers before landing a few feet away with an undignified thud, his tiny body trembling. Nora gasped in shock, the air driven from her lungs by the sudden assault, and instinctively tried to pull her arms from the demons’ iron grip, but their hold was locked tight, almost crushing her bones.

Morpheus’s attention immediately snapped to Nora, his eyes blazing with ancient fury, starlit pools of rage, and he took a furious, ground-eating step towards her, his dark coat swirling around him like a storm cloud.

“Dream!” Lucifer’s voice cracked like a whip, stern and absolute, cutting through the sudden chaos and stopping him immediately, a palpable wall of command erected between him and Nora.

Lucifer then began to move, taking slow, deliberate steps around the other side of the central fire pit, her movements intimidatingly graceful, subtly gaining ground towards Nora. Her white robe flowed around her like a predatory cloud, the light from the coals dancing in its folds. “You think I had forgotten the mortal,” Lucifer purred, her voice a silken thread of accusation, “that you brought along with you into Hell, into my realm, without consideration for me, or for asking permission?” She shook her head, a theatrical display of disappointment. “Tut, tut sweet Morpheus. It’s almost as if you don’t care about this mortal, or what happens to her.” As she finished speaking, she stopped directly in front of Nora, her ethereal beauty an unnerving contrast to her malevolent intent. With unexpected gentleness, she delicately placed her forefinger underneath Nora’s chin and tilted Nora’s head up, forcing her to meet Lucifer’s gaze. “And such a pretty thing too,” Lucifer mused, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper, her eyes raking over Nora’s face with a proprietary gleam. A shiver, cold as grave dust, ran down Nora’s spine. The “gentleness” was far more terrifying than any overt threat, a promise of exquisite, prolonged torment.

At Lucifer’s words, the two demons holding Nora grumbled in guttural agreement, their monstrous grips on Nora’s arms tightening just slightly, almost imperceptibly, yet enough to send a sharp pang of pain through Nora’s limbs. The smallest whimper, a sound of fear and pain, leaked out of Nora’s mouth, escaping before she could stop it. This is it, a panicked thought screamed in Nora’s mind. This is where it all goes wrong. This is where I break. She could feel the demons’ raw power, the immense weight of their presence, and Lucifer’s gaze felt like a physical violation. The heat from the fire pit seemed to intensify, pressing down on her, suffocating.

Morpheus’s eyes, already burning with fury, flared with a possessive rage that ignited like supernova. The subtle possessiveness he held for Nora, a feeling he rarely acknowledged even to himself, roared to life. How dare she touch what is not hers? How dare she lay a hand upon her! His voice, when it came, was a low, dangerous growl, laced with ancient ice. “Unhand her, Lucifer. She is not yours to touch, nor yours to threaten.”

Lucifer’s delicate touch lingered on Nora’s chin for another agonizing second before she slowly withdrew her finger, a dismissive flick of her wrist. A cold, knowing smile spread across her face, thin and sharp. “Oh, but she is, Dream. She is within my domain now. And this little side-venture of yours, this unexpected baggage… it was not part of your original, rather pathetic, challenge for your Helm.” Her eyes, once again fixed on Morpheus, blazed with triumphant malice, utterly devoid of the feigned regret. “Even if you win this little contest against Choronzon, that does not mean the mortal leaves with you. You will have to fight for her as well. Perhaps, a new wager, Dream Lord? For her soul? For her eternal service here in Hell?” The last words were a taunting whisper, a direct challenge to his authority, his compassion, and his carefully constructed detachment, promising an agonizing choice.

The thought of Nora, held captive, threatened, her spirit vulnerable to the myriad torments of Hell, caused a profound, almost physical agony within Morpheus. Every instinct screamed at him to tear through the demons, to snatch her back, yet Lucifer had halted him, binding him with the very laws he himself upheld. The seconds stretched into an unbearable eternity, each one a torment as he left Nora in the hands of his ancient foe. The pain, sharp and cold, resonated through their psychic link, and Nora felt it too, a mirrored ache of his extreme reluctance, of his controlled fury. He forced himself to take a single, agonizing step back, away from Nora, before turning slowly towards Lucifer. His face, usually a mask of detached solemnity, was now contorted into a dark, predatory sneer, a sight rarely seen even in the deepest nightmares he commanded. His eyes, burning like twin abyssal stars, fixed on Lucifer Morningstar, daring her to flinch. “Let us begin, then.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! As always, comments and feedback are appreciated! 🩷

Next Chapter

[joshsindigostreak]

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Eleven

“Revel in this, my lover.”

Vampire!Josh x Vampire!Reader

Authors note: Once again I am SO SORRY this took forever. I hope you can forgive me. Enjoy this rollercoaster of a chapter!!

Word Count: 8,586

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of blood, World War 2 discussions, brief SMUT towards the end, but nothing out of the ordinary.

To say that this particular Blood Den in Chicago had a different vibe than the first one Josh had been to, was an understatement. Instead of the antique furniture, there were plush booths that lined the walls, each paired with a set of curtains for added privacy. Instead of classical music, there was enough bass booming through the sound system to make the floors shake. The color scheme was varying shades of red and black, and the matching lights added to the dramatic atmosphere. 

Josh tried not to let his nerves show when the two of you were escorted up to the VIP section, which was a roped off area by itself on a red carpeted platform that was in the corner of the Den, and had its own circular couch that wrapped all the way around it. The second you both walked in, hand in hand, eyes turned and stared. Some Vampires who were in the middle of feeding looked up and paused as you both passed. Josh would openly admit he loved being the center of attention but this was…different. 

His steps slowed, and you looked over your shoulder and saw the look on his face. You squeezed his hand as you led him through the crowd, following the security detail Dimitri had assigned to you for your stay in Chicago. At the gesture, he squared his shoulders and caught up to you. 

You could hear the whispering as you wove through the crowd. The music was loud enough that you couldn’t make out much, but the words hunter and Kiszka were crystal clear. Thankfully you were finally walking up the short flight of stairs to the VIP section, which was entirely vacant as Dimitri had explicit instructions that it was for you. Anyone else who would normally sit up there would have to get over it for the nights you were in attendance. 

As the both of you settled on the red couch, the security guard turned and took his post at the foot of the stairs. It felt surreal and almost fishbowl-like where you were sitting, but thankfully the crowd went back to what they were doing and for the moment the spotlight wasn’t literally on you both. 

You turned to Josh, “this is still…very weird.” 

“It’s definitely…a lot.” 

You searched his sweet face, trying to find every question he had swirling behind his eyes. 

“Hey,” you said as you reached up to turn his chin towards you. Your fingers lightly toying with the hair that grew from it, “what’s going on in that head of yours, Boy Scout?” 

He stared at you as if you were the only person in the room, his eyes softened at your touch. 

“This…this is the first time I’ve walked into one of these as…,” his voice trailed off.

“One of us?” You tilted your head slightly as you smiled at him and your thumb rubbed back and forth on his jaw.

It was only three words, but there was so much weight to them. 

“Yeah,” he all but whispered.

“Boy Scout, I saw them staring too. But just know that they’re not looking at you like you’re a hunter. Because you aren’t one anymore, and they know you gave that up. They’re probably confused as to why you did something so selfless. We’re not known for our generosity, as you know. What you did doesn’t happen very often, if at all.”

“I’d do it again.”

Now it was your turn for your eyes to soften. 

“You would?”

His hand slid across the small space between you, taking your free hand.

“Wouldn’t even hesitate…” 

You started to lean in to kiss your Vampire, but someone clearing their throat in front of you made you freeze centimeters away from his lips. Annoyed, your eyes slid to the side to see the source of the noise. 

It was one of the Den servers, who had been awkwardly standing there for most of the exchange. 

Sitting back against the couch, you said, “...yes?” 

“I was sent to get your drink orders.”

You perked up a little at the question, automatically telling him you’d like your usual A-Negative Manhattan. He looked over at Josh, who seemed a bit lost at what to order. 

An idea struck you, “OH! Do you do Blood Flights here?”

The server gave you a slight, duh, look but he quickly smiled and said, “yes we do.” 

“Ok can we get one then? It’s been awhile since we’ve had some real variety.” You smirked at Josh, happy you smoothed over a potential awkward moment for him, and got him a treat in the process. You were about to have fun. 

“Do you want only Negatives, Positives, or-”

“Oh no give us the whole eight please, a full spread!” He gave you a slight grimace before nodding and turning to leave. 

Josh  turned to you as the server hurried off to the bar, “is a Blood Flight what I think it is?” 

“You haven’t figured out what you like yet, and this is a good and safe way to do so for someone as new as you.” Your finger reached up and lightly booped his cheek. 

He tried to fight a smile but failed miserably, and relaxed on the back of the couch with you. A few Vampires approached the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you two curiously and speaking to the security guard. He shook his head at them and promptly shooed them off. 

You rested your arm behind Josh on the back of the couch, and lightly toyed with the curls at the base of his neck, “did you read the itinerary?” 

He shrugged, “I skimmed it before we went to sleep this morning.” 

“Well, apparently the first night we’re here, we aren’t going to have any visitors, but the next few nights we’ll slowly get more and more people up here with us. Dimitri has some friends that are regulars here that he felt needed to be seen with us.”

“Great.”

“Oh it’ll be fun. You need to make more Vampire friends anyway. They’ll love you, I’m sure of it.” 

“We’ll see, I guess,” he said, not fully convinced. 

“...and if anyone is rude to you, I’ll rip their fingers off,” your tone was so light and cheery it made Josh give you a look. “What? They’ll grow back.” 

“Have you ever done that before?” 

You smiled and gave him an innocent shrug, “maybe, maybe not…” 

“Sweet-”

“You see the trick is,” your fingers of one hand wrapped around the middle finger on your other hand and you pulled it back slightly, “you have to do it quick enough to shatter the knuck-”

“That's enough, I get the picture,” he took both of your hands in his to get you to stop. 

“Well, like I said, if anyone is rude to you, I’ll show you how to properly do it,” you smiled at him. 

Before he could properly reply, the Den server was back with your drink. He placed yours on the table in the middle of the platform that the couch wrapped around. Behind him was another server who was holding a long tray containing eight small glasses, all filled to the brim with dark red blood. After delivering the drinks the two of them scurried down the stairs to tend to the booths on the wall. 

Josh scooted forward to the edge of the couch to get a better look at the “Blood Flight” as it was called. The long wooden tray looked to be hand carved, each glass was labeled by the blood type etched into the wood in front of it. The smell wafted up into his nose and he could feel his gums itch, with pressure around his canines. It was getting easier to look at blood and actually want to drink it. He tried to equate the smell with the smell of his favorite food before he was turned, but each night that memory was getting more and more distant and faint, and the instinct to crave blood was getting stronger. He even tried to think about something as basic as pizza, but found that he had to concentrate really hard to remember the taste, and when he finally did it didn’t even sound appealing to him. 

You took a sip of your Manhattan before putting it down and scooted closer to him. 

“This is going to be fun, Boy Scout,” you encouraged as you draped your arm over his shoulders and leaned in even closer. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to the glasses on the table. “Now, they line them up from most to least common blood types, starting with O-Positive, the Ol’ Faithful of blood.”

He gave you a sideways glance, before reaching for the small glass and bringing it to his nose. The smell was a little unfamiliar but sweet. As he brought the glass to his lips, he felt more pressure around his fangs, and he looked at you curiously. You flashed him an encouraging smile as he brought the glass to his plush lips and took a sip. 

First impression? He liked it. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but there was something…hardy about it? It wasn’t overly remarkable, but it was pleasant. He took another sip for a second impression, and he wobbled his head back and forth before looking at you. 

“It's not terrible,” he concluded. 

You nodded in agreement, “yeah, it's not my favorite either. But it’s the most prevalent so you’ll get used to it eventually.” 

A-Positive was a step up, but it was definitely different from the O-Positive, and going in knowing they were two different blood types made the whole notion of different flavors start to make sense in Josh’s head. 

His first sip of B-Positive, however, was the game changer. His eyes went wide and he went in for a second helping immediately, loving the bright and fresh taste. 

You rested your chin on your hand, a serene and fond expression was all over your face. 

“You like that one?” 

He turned to you and smiled, “oh yeah this one is the best so far. There’s kind of a kick to it but in a good way?” 

You glanced at the type he had in his hand, “B-Positive, huh? Noted.” 

Josh made his way down the flight, stopping at A-Negative, remembering it was your favorite. He could see why you liked it so much, and your words that first night in the Den made sense to him now, and he made sure to tell you that. 

“Ok…I get it now,” he said as he sipped on the A-Negative. 

“I told you!” You laughed. 

It was when he got to the second to last glass, B-Negative, that his face scrunched up and he quickly put it back down. 

“No…definitely not that one.” 

“B-Negative is one of those either you love it or hate it, I’ve never really cared for it myself.” 

“So it's like the Merlot of blood?”

You had a very limited understanding of human wine, and you blankly stared at him.

“Is Merlot bad?” 

“It’s not great.” 

“Oh well then yes I could see that.” 

Finally he was at the last glass, AB-Negative, and as soon as he drank it he recognized it. The girl he fed from at Dimitri’s tasted the same, or at least very close to it. 

“I’ve…I’ve had this before,” he said softly. 

You remembered the girl from his first feed and it clicked for you too, “Dimitri did love the rare types. I think it's some sort of status thing.” 

Josh nodded before going back for the B-Positive glass and downing the rest in one gulp. Even with the loud music, he could still hear your soft laugh float towards him. 

“Ok ok, Boy Scout, we’ll get you some more,” you said before flagging down your server from earlier. 

~!~

Jake kept stealing glances at Lou, who was silently watching a baseball game on the TV mounted on the wall. He sat on the same barstool every time he came in, ordered the same drink (double whiskey with a splash of O Positive, or a double O Positive with a splash of whiskey, depending on the night), and minded his business. He had been a regular for at least two decades now, and even knew CiCi’s father before he died. He wasn’t the only Vampire to show up at the bar, but he was the most consistent. Jake wasn’t sure how “old” he truly was, just that he still looked to be in his early twenties. Regardless of his appearance, CiCi would warmly call him ‘Old Man’ in conversation with the same reverence one would give a grandparent. 

The first night Jake showed up at the bar, a little over a year ago, he didn’t make a good first impression with Lou. Mainly because he tried to kill him, but CiCi had put a cork in that quickly. Thankfully, Lou didn’t take it personally, and just went back to his drink. Ever since that night Jake hadn’t really gone out of his way to talk to him, but he was cordial to him when he needed to be. 

But Jake looked at him differently now. Different in the sense that when he looked at Lou drain a glass of O Positive, he saw his own brother.  He had been back in Tucson for about three days now, and he hadn’t spoken of Josh at all. They had exchanged a few texts here or there, but they were just letting the other know where they were in their travels. Josh had sent him a few regular texts, asking Jake how he was, and a few photos of Chicago, but Jake hadn’t answered them yet. He couldn’t pretend everything was normal. He couldn’t pretend that Josh was just on a roadtrip with his girlfriend and seeing different cities. No, the truth was that Josh and said girlfriend were both Vampires now, and were being paraded around different Blood Dens to draw in business. It was so fucking stupid. 

Neither Jake or Sam had said anything to their parents yet. Josh had texted both of them that he wanted to be the one to tell them, so they respected that. It helped that they were still busy with whatever they were up to in Canada, but Josh would have to rip the bandaid off soon. 

For now, Jake sat in his own girlfriend's bar, trying to make sense of it all. 

“You know I can see you looking at me, right,” Lou said after throwing a sideways glance at Jake. Jake’s eyes snapped back to his beer in front of him. 

“Sorry.” 

“Is there anything I can help you with, son?” 

The nerves got to Jake and he blurted out the first thought he had, “when did you get turned?” 

Lou’s eyebrows slowly raised in mild surprise, “hi Lou, how are ya, wasn’t on the menu I guess.” He sighed and turned on the barstool to face Jake, “1942.” 

Jake nodded, “and how old were you?” 

Lou could tell something was deeply bothering Jake, even if the hunter was trying his best not to show it. Jake typically had a haunted look on his face, but he looked even more tormented tonight. “What's this about, Jake?” 

“I can’t just try to get to know you?”

“Well I don’t know who taught you social skills, but asking a Vampire about how they were turned isn’t the first thing you bring up. We can be touchy about that subject, depending on who you’re talking to.” He continued to eye Jake curiously. 

Jake nodded, and internally argued with himself over what he should do next. Everything was eating away at him and for the first time in his life he didn’t know how to fix it. With a rough exhale, he picked up his beer and hopped off his barstool, moving to the one nearest to Lou. 

The Vampire was taken by surprise again as Jake found his new seat. For a few moments, the two sat in awkward silence. Lou only glanced back at the TV when he heard a ball get hit, and cursed to himself when it was caught by the other team. The Cubs had been trailing behind the last 3 innings, and it clearly wasn’t their night. 

“I was just…” Jake started, “my brother was, umm…” 

Lou knew that Jake wasn’t a bad kid, in spite of his ‘profession’. Over the past year he had seen a gradual change in the hunter, a good one, and he knew that CiCi deserved a lot of the credit. He still didn’t entirely trust him, but he had the CiCi stamp of approval, and that was enough for him. He perked up a little at the mention of Jake’s brother. He knew Jake came from one of those hunter families, but he didn’t know what his immediate family consisted of. 

“You have a brother?” He asked, deciding to play along with Jake’s impromptu Q&A. 

“Yeah, two actually...”

“Is one of them in trouble or something?” 

Jake took a long pull of his beer, stalling to answer, “he was…he still is, I don’t know.” 

The distress was all over Jake’s face, and Lou gave him a sympathetic look, “what happened?” 

The hunter gritted his teeth, not wanting to say the actual words. He had avoided truly verbalizing the situation since he left Josh’s apartment. 

“Hewasturnedintoavampire,” he mumbled his words together. 

“...Into a- oh,” Lou replied carefully. Now the sudden interaction made sense. 

Jake nodded, not able to meet his eyes. 

“I’m not going to ask you how it happened, as I said earlier, it can be a touchy subject,” Lou started, which made Jake’s shoulders relax significantly as he didn’t think he’d be able to tell the whole story.  “But I will ask you if he’s ok?”

“I guess…I didn’t see him much before we came back.” 

“It’s a lot to adjust to,” Lou took another sip of his drink, “the first few weeks can be rough, especially if you’re alone.” 

“He’s not alone, not really. The umm…the Vampire that turned him is kind of his girlfriend,” Jake added. 

“Oh? Is she nice?” Lou was even more curious now. 

“She’s alright…for a V-,” Jake caught himself before he finished the word. 

Lou sighed, “you know, Jake, some of us are actually nice and personable. Sure, there are plenty of murderous bastards among us, but name me a species that doesn’t have any of those.” 

Jake’s cheeks reddened, “I-I know, I just…I just never thought that Josh would ever be one of them.” 

Lou purposefully ignored the use of the word ‘them’, “I get that. Is he your older, or younger…?

“Older. Well, by five minutes. We’re twins.” 

Lou’s eyes softened again, “oh that's tough, son.” It was strange to Jake that someone who looked younger than him called him “son”, but he could tell that Lou wasn’t trying to be patronizing. “How is that going to work with your…family business…” 

“I have no fucking idea. Our parents still don’t know.” 

“Well, shit.” 

Jake nodded in agreement, “yeah.”

Lou looked up at Stacy, the other bartender besides CiCi, “another round for us please, Stace.” 

She looked up from the glass she was washing and nodded, making her ponytail bounce in the process. She quickly sat down two fresh glasses in front of them, with Lou’s drink having a darker hue from the added blood. She flashed a grin at Lou, who gave her a shy smile in return. 

As Stacy bounced away, Jake mumbled a thanks to Lou. “You looked like you needed it,” he replied softly. The Vampire took a substantial sip from his drink, before turning to the hunter and saying, “it happened when I was shipped out to France.”

“What-“

“When I was turned. It happened in France.”

“I thought it was rude to-“

“I said it’s rude to ask, it’s just a personal decision to share. And I’m sharing,” Lou took another sip of his drink, his eyes seeing all the usual questions forming behind Jake’s eyes. “I was 22, and my unit had stopped in this small village that hadn’t been taken over yet, miraculously. We were only staying for the night, and planned on leaving at dawn. But somehow a few bottles of wine from the village ended up being passed around and we got hammered. But honestly after walking for three straight days we needed it. After a while I needed to piss so I got up and went down the little path we were on, when this stunning, and I mean beautiful, woman appeared out of nowhere at the tree line. I was so drunk I thought she was a mirage or something, but she was real. She asked if I could walk her home, and who was I to say no to that? That’s when she says there was a shortcut through the woods, and I stupidly fell for it. We got maybe a hundred feet or so into the trees, where you couldn’t see the road and no one could see you either…” His voice trailed off as he stared at his drink, his thumb wiping at the condensation absently. 

“You don’t have to tell me the rest  if you don’t want to…”

As if Lou didn’t even hear Jake’s voice, he continued, “suddenly I was against a tree, this woman’s lips were on my neck, and I thought ‘holy shit how lucky was this?’ But then I felt her teeth, and then I really felt her teeth, and everything went dark soon after that.” He took another swig of his drink, “I kept blacking out, I don’t even remember her giving me her blood to complete the process. ‘Next thing I know is that I’m alone in the woods, extremely disoriented and hungry. But I didn’t know what exactly I wanted.” At this, Lou gave Jake a pointed look, the answer being obvious. He didn’t want to divulge anymore, at least for now.

Jake didn’t know what to say. Lou’s story was the first he had actually heard. Vampire’s backstories were never a priority to learn about growing up. They weren’t supposed to live long enough to even know their names. 

Lou broke the silence again, slightly pivoting the subject, “you said his girlfriend turned him?”

“Yeah.” 

He raised his eyebrows at Jake, “He’s lucky, you know, to have someone help him through the transition. Most of us don’t get that.” 

“I wouldn’t call being forced to be turned ‘lucky’,” Jake grumbled. 

“He was forced? By her?” Lou’s brows knitted together in a mix of curiosity and confusion. 

“No, not by her, but he, uh, pissed off the ‘Council’ and it was either get turned or…death,” Jake gripped his glass a little tighter as he spoke. 

Lou made a face at the mention of the Council. He knew enough about them, though he had never dealt with any of the members personally. 

“The fucking Council, of course,” he rolled his eyes and took another sip. 

As if a dam in his mind had broken, Jake started rambling, “the first time I saw him afterwards, he didn’t look different but he looked different, if that makes any sense. He walked differently? He always stomped around the house growing up with those flat feet of his, but that night I could barely hear his shoes on the floor. I hugged him, and for a few seconds…things felt normal…but I couldn’t just carry on as if nothing had happened. Everyone else in the room as if it was a regular Tuesday night. My other brother was sitting on the couch next to him, asking him question after question as if he had just come back from a stupid vacation. They were all Vampire questions, harmless ones, but even then no one was acknowledging the elephant in the fucking room. Like we weren’t going to talk about the fact that he’s dead now, but he’s not really dead, but he can’t go out into the sun anymore, and-” 

The grip Jake had on his glass was getting to the point where he was about to break it, and Lou wisely reached over and wrenched it out of his hand before that could happen. 

“Let's not break anything tonight…,” he said as he placed the glass out of Jake’s reach for the time being. 

Jake flexed his fingers before setting his hand back down on the bar, his gaze fixed on the wooden surface. His nose twitched, the heat rising in his face and he felt his eyes start to sting. His voice was much softer when he observed, “he has to live off blood now…and that’s it. I know Vampires don’t eat actual food, and he won’t either and…this sounds so stupid but I’ll never be able to share a meal with him again.” 

Lou’s face was riddled in sympathy, and his voice was equally as sympathetic, “yes you can, Jake. His plate will just look a little different is all.” 

“It’ll just be a glass,” he snarked as a defense mechanism,  trying to hide  any emotions bubbling up to the surface. 

“Then it’ll just be a glass. But he’ll still be there. Sitting with you just like I am right now.”

“What am I supposed to do, stock my fridge with blood bags now just in case he comes over?”

“That would be the courteous thing to do.” 

Jake finally looked up at Lou again, “how do you even get blood bags anyway?” 

“Would you believe, we Vampires have a delivery service?”

The hunter gave Lou a blank stare, “...what?”

Lou chuckled, “yeah, it's a whole network here in the states. There’s a number to call and they set you up with a schedule if you want it. Instead of the MilkMan showing up at dawn, it's the BloodMan showing up at dusk, leaving a cooler at your door.”

Jake didn’t find it as funny as Lou did, “that’s…different.” 

“It's not as popular as you think, most prefer their dinner a little more Rare, as you know. But it’s helpful for the introverts out there.”

“...do you use it?” 

“For the most part, but I mainly use it so CiCi can have her own stock on hand. BYOB, as the kids say.”

Jake blinked at him, trying to digest this information. 

The Vampire went back to the subject at hand, “But what I’m saying, Jake, is that he’s still your brother, differences and all. It’s a lot, I know, and it won’t be easy to get used to, but being ‘normal’ like you said everyone else was the other night, is exactly what he needs. Don’t treat him differently. It's pretty rare for newly turned Vampires to even see their family again, let alone stay in their lives. You have a gift on your hands and you don’t even know it.” 

Jake chewed his lip, he hadn’t thought about it that way. 

His voice was soft, nearly a whisper, “I…I want to do all of that, I really do it’s just…I’ve never looked at a Vampire with any other thought than to finish them off as soon as possible. Ever since I saw one for the first time when I was a kid, they’ve just been anonymous monsters that I needed to get rid of.” 

“Not to state the obvious, but maybe it’s time you reevaluated that.”

Jake was quiet, trying to absorb it all. But one truth was still lingering in his mind. 

“The thing is, even if I stop, I know that Josh is now going to be a target for other hunters out there. Even if he’s good, even if he doesn’t make a mess, keeps his head down, I know some personally that wouldn’t hesitate to-,” he bit his lip hard, not wanting to finish the sentence. “The fact that he was a hunter that was turned, and turned willingly, makes him an even bigger target than just a regular Vampire.”

“To me, it sounds like you’re the perfect person to use this knowledge and to protect him as much as you can. You know how they move, where they go, and whatever tells and patterns they have. Use it to your advantage, remind him to do the same.” 

Jake was emotionally drained at this point, but Lou made a great point there. 

He nodded, “that makes sense. Umm thanks for the talk, Lou.”

Lou shrugged, “you know where I’m at if you need to talk again.” 

Jake nodded again, and hopped off the stool. He wordlessly made his way to the corner of the room where the stairs to the rooms above the bar were. More specifically, where he and CiCi lived. He needed some quiet now, and he needed to think about what he was going to do next in his life, and what that meant for Josh. 

~!~

It was your fourth night at the Chicago Den, and true to the itinerary, each subsequent night led to more and more Vampire’s populating the VIP section. Both you and Josh were a little timid at first, but so far everyone had pleasant, even if they were overly curious about Josh. He fielded questions with ease, his natural charm coming out instantly. Everyone still had intact fingers, though every once and awhile you’d make eye contact with your Vampire across the VIP section and pull back one of your fingers just to make him laugh. 

His drink of choice now, a tequila and soda with a splash of B-Positive and a lime, was resting in his hand as he listened to a Vampire you couldn’t remember the name of droned on and on about his last trip to the south of France. He was holding his own very well, and you were comfortable enough to not have to be right beside him the whole night. Your own charm carried you around the VIP section, and after asking nicely and  batting  your eyes  at the security guard at the bottom of the steps, you were allowed to follow a few of your new friends out onto the dance floor. It felt so…normal to you. Being surrounded by other Vampires, the various Human Companions, being able to look up and catch your lover’s eye whenever you wanted, in a world that was entirely yours. While the circumstances that led you here were troubling, being able to exist and experience all of this with Josh had you focusing on them less and less. 

However, while you were enjoying yourself, the lover in question was getting more and more irritated by the minute. Josh is the last person you’d describe as clingy or even worse, needy. But ever since your night had begun, you had been distracted by nearly everything and everyone else besides him. Mingling with everyone you came into contact with, greeting anyone new and introducing yourself quickly. Swapping stories while you sipped your drink, occasionally making eye contact with him, but otherwise left him to his own devices. Which isn’t a problem, but if he had to hear one more Vampire reminisce over a time period over a hundred years ago he was going to try that finger trick you mentioned on someone. 

It was your last night in Chicago, and before dawn the two of you would be whisked away on Dimitri’s jet to your next destination: Seattle. He liked the Chicago Den well enough, but he was ready to see what else was out there. 

He looked down at the dance floor, and saw you with a few of your friends. A few of them were old friends from a few decades ago when you were in Chicago last, and some were brand new but you had no problem befriending anyone. A thought briefly ran through his mind, that this was probably how you normally were before you met him. The version of you that wasn’t preoccupied with hunters being in your business, or following you around. The side of you that only other Vampire’s saw, where you were completely relaxed and not worried about protecting a fragile human. It had been a welcomed sight for him, he just wished he wasn’t watching from the sidelines all night. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a very tall man weave his way into the crowd towards you. Josh was instantly on alert, even though he knew you could handle yourself. He mentally cursed that even with his newly heightened sense of hearing he still couldn’t make out what was being said when he saw the man dip his head down to say something in your ear. You turned around excitedly and mouthed the word ‘really’ to the mystery man. Your face lit up as you loosely took a hold of his arm, letting him lead you out of the crowd and back towards the VIP section. What the fuck was going on? 

The security guard at the bottom of the steps stopped the both of you, which Josh was grateful for, until you waved your hand at the guard and pointed back at Mystery Man as you said something that Josh still couldn’t make out over the music pumping through the speakers. He drained the last of his drink, and slammed it on the table a little too hard as he stood up, but he didn’t care. 

You practically bounced up the stairs, Mystery Man following right behind you. 

“Josh, guess what!”

Josh looked at you curiously, his eyes darting back and from between you and your ‘guest’.

“What, sweetheart?” 

“So…since it’s our last night in Chicago, Dimitri sent us a…treat…,” your eyes swiveled up to the tall man. 

At the risk of asking a stupid question, he said, “What kind of treat?”

You smirked at your Vampire, “…a B-Positive one…”

Josh used every muscle in his face to not show his surprise. He did not want you to pick up on any inkling that he thought there was anything else going on with B-Positive Mystery Man. Nope. He would never live that down with you. Instead he rolled his lower lip into his mouth and raised his eyebrows to play it off. 

“I’m Alex,” Mystery Man said while extending his hand out to Josh. 

“Josh…,” he replied while shaking his hand. “Dimitri sent you?” 

Alex smiled sheepishly and explained, “yeah. I’m kind of a regular around here but I’ve never gotten a call from the boss himself, you know? Couldn’t say no to his opportunity.” 

Josh was a little skeptical, but played along, “I get that…” 

You wasted no time to pull Alex over to an empty spot on the VIP couch and sat down on his left. Josh followed and sat on the other side of him, and ‘treat’ aside, it still felt too far from you. 

“Now Alex, do you have any bite preferences?” You asked brightly. 

He turned and smiled at you, “most of the time it's usually the wrists but, you can go for the neck if you want.” 

The flirty tone in his voice was so obvious to Josh he had to fight an eye roll, but he silently hoped you’d turn it down. He wasn’t possessive, but you hadn’t fed from anyone’s neck besides him in the last few weeks, and part of him wasn’t ready to share you in that way. 

He didn’t have time to unpack whether this was some kind of Vampire social norm he was getting used to, because when he looked up you were nodding and descending towards Alex’s neck while your fangs lowered down. 

Alex kept his attention on you while he offered his wrist to Josh, and while he didn’t want to be impolite, Josh also wanted to shove his hand out of the way and walk out of there. 

Instead, he let the spite take over. His own fangs popped down a lot faster and harsher than they had previously, and he swiftly brought Alex’s wrist to his lips and bit down with little care. The first thing he noticed about Alex’s blood was how it was almost…minty. He was definitely B-Positive but in the four days he had been in that Den, Josh had had better samples of that type from the bar instead of this human. He looked up to catch a glance at you, while you happily dined on Alex’s neck. Alex himself had his head thrown back against the couch, which only made Josh burn hotter.

 Being fed on as a human versus being fed on as a Vampire wasn’t entirely different, but there was something so raw about offering yourself to a Vampire when you’re human. He remembered the first time he feld your fangs bury themselves in his skin, how it stung and burned but you fed from him in such a way that pleasure had rolled through his body within seconds. 

Josh continued to feed on Alex for a few more minutes before wrenching his wrist away from his mouth sloppily pricking his finger on his own fangs and healing the wound. He frankly couldn’t give a shit at this point, especially with how you were still latched onto Alex’s neck. Rather petulantly, he sat back with his hands in his lap, waiting for you to finish your “treat.” 

After the slowest five minutes of his life, you finally popped off of Alex and quickly wiped away a stray trail of blood from your chin with your thumb. 

You looked up as you healed the bite wound with your own blood and saw the hard stare coming from your Vampire. His sudden shift in mood confused you.

“Is something wrong, Boy Sc-”

“Can I talk to you,” he gave a sideways glance at Alex, “alone.” 

“I- sure,” and with that he reached over and took your hand, quickly leading you down the stairs and around the security guard, not even glancing back to see how your “treat” reacted. 

In every Den there are private rooms, soundproof and lockable for even more privacy. Some Vampire’s were weird about feeding in front of others, or they simply wanted proper alone time with their Human Companions, but Josh wasn’t thinking of their intended purpose now. He quickly weaved through the crowd to get to the back corner, where the private rooms were. The universe was on his side when he saw the door on the far left open, leading to an unoccupied room. He beelined towards it, rushing the two of you inside. 

“Josh what the-”

He turned and pushed you against the door, smashing his lips against yours. You let out a squeak in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers went into his hair. His hands moved down to your hips, gripping them through the thin fabric of your dress. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet and your legs locked around his waist. 

Clothing was practically ripped off on the way to the lone L-shaped couch in the middle of the room. Your back hit the plush cushions as your Vampire pinned you against them, his lips leaving a hot trail of kisses from your mouth down to the base of your neck. You weren’t complaining by any means, but you were curious as to why he had this sudden change in mood. Nothing felt wrong, but it was decidedly different from the norm. 

“J-Josh…wait a second,” you let out an airy laugh as you pulled his head from the crook of your neck to be above you, cradling his square jaw. 

He looked down at you, eyes dark and unblinking, “what?” 

You didn’t want to seem clueless, but you were truly at a loss, “what’s gotten into you tonight?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he quipped before giving the other side of your neck attention. 

“Yes you do,” you whispered in his ear. 

He turned his head slightly and ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “I can’t just love on my girl?”

Your retort was cut off when you felt his hand snake between you and start gliding through your folds, his thumb circling your clit while his other fingers dipped into your entrance. A loud gasp escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, and you felt him chuckle against your neck. 

“You were saying, Sweetheart?” 

He curled his fingers inside you, teasing all the right spots, causing you to clench around him and dig your nails into his back. 

But as soon as you started to feel that delicious build up in your core his fingers left you. 

“JOSH!” you yelled out in frustration. 

“Turn around…,” he whispered as he lifted off of you. 

You stared at him for a second before doing what he told you. Slowly you rolled over on your stomach, your back to him now. His hands reached for your hips once again but this time pulled them roughly off the couch, the skin on your knees burning slightly from the sudden movement. You rested your weight on your hands as you looked over your shoulder at him. 

His eyes were even darker then they were before, and they were gazing down your back as he slowly pumped himself. Deciding to play along, you faced forward, and rested your elbows on the arm of the couch. You felt the head of his cock move through your folds, dipping down to your clit before traveling back up to your entrance. Josh was mumbling behind you, words you couldn’t even make out as he slowly started pushing inside you. 

You hissed at the stretch, and when he reared back and surged forward to bottom out you didn’t even try to muffle the strangled sound that flew from your mouth. His nails dug into the skin of your hips as he set a brutal pace. 

Josh stared down at where you were joined, not wanting to take his eyes off the sight. He quickly got lost in you, the sounds you were making, the way you were clenching around him, the sheer warmth of you, the fact that you were his. At a particularly hard thrust he threw his head back and noticed what was on the ceiling: a massive mirror. His eyes became fixed at the reflection, where he could see more of your face, down your spine, to where he was pounding into you. 

He started mumbling again, but this time you were able to make out at least a few words out: mine, all mine. That's when it clicked. His attitude for most of the night, his reaction to Alex that he tried to hide, and why he pulled out into this room as soon as he could. Your Boy Scout was jealous. This was a side of him that you hadn’t seen very often, if at all at this point, but it made you turn your head completely away from him once more to smirk at yourself where he couldn’t see. Now you could fully play along. 

Looking back over your shoulder again, you saw him slack jawed staring at the mirror on the ceiling, his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“...am I yours, Josh?” you baited. 

A harsh growl was made in the place of words, accompanied by another hard thrust. He was getting close, and both of you knew it. He pulled you backwards, gathering you toward him so that your back was flush with his front, his breath coming out in puffs against your neck. 

This time he made no mistake with his words, whispering them directly into your ear. 

“Mine…all mine…” 

You turned your head to capture his lips with yours, letting him know that he was absolutely correct. Your hand tangled in his hair to hold him in place as your tongue swirled in his mouth and ran along his teeth, his fangs clearly present. 

He continued his fast pace as one of his hands held your hip while the other snaked around your front and made its way to your clit. You cried out against his mouth, and he took this moment to bite down on your lower lip, relishing in the sounds you were making. Neither of you cared how loud you were being, or how the sound of skin slapping against skin rang throughout the room. Your end came hurtling towards you, quickly sending you over the edge and shaking in his arms. 

He couldn’t hold back any longer himself, and just as he teetered on the edge he drove his fangs into the flesh of your neck. Letting the welcomed taste of you be the final act he needed before spilling inside you. His hand continued to work you through yours as his thrusts became uneven and started to slow. All he could feel, see, and hear was you. Even the memory that was shown to him at the taste of your blood was you all by yourself, sitting at your vanity touching up your lipstick in the mirror. The decor and dress you were wearing suggested the twenties, but the memory went dark before he could take in more details. He lifted his fangs from your skin as you both came down from your highs. Slowly he withdrew from you, the loss of your warmth making him hiss slightly. 

You turned around to fully look at him, and his arms wrapped around your waste, not wanting to let you go just yet. The both of you rested there for a few moments, enjoying the sudden silence. 

Eventually you brought your hand to his face, rubbing your thumb into his cheek. 

“I’ll always be yours, Boy Scout,” you whispered. 

He still didn’t look you in the eyes quite yet, the realization he had acted out of pure jealousy causing his cheeks to redden. 

“I know…,” he said so softly you barely heard him. 

“I’m not even going to remember Alex after tonight anyway,” you reassured him. 

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t just him.” 

“Oh?” 

“I…just missed you tonight,” he finally looked up and met your eyes, his dark brown irises full of sincerity. 

“I’m sorry if I get a little caught up out there, it’s been a while-”

He cut you off, “no you don’t have to apologize, you were having fun and you deserve to.” 

“Next time, just come get me, push people out of the way if you have to. People will get over it.” You gave him a sweet kiss against his lips for reassurance. “Now…my turn…,” you grinned wickedly as you took this moment to properly pounce on your Vampire, toppling him onto the couch. 

~!~

Many rounds and hours later, you were both back at the hotel. The sun was about to rise, and the black out curtains were preemptively shut. Sleep quickly overtook you, and while you began to snooze, Josh peered down at you, loving the way you cuddled up to him as you slept. 

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, alerting him of a text. He looked over at the screen and saw Jake’s name at the top. 

Jake: is this a good time?

Josh typed out a response: sure

He was expecting another text, but instead his twin called him directly. 

“Hello?”

“Josh? Are you about to go to sleep? I can call back later if you-”

“No no it's fine, what's up?”

“I just wanted…how’s Chicago?” The tone in his voice sounded tight, as if he was unsure what to say. 

“It’s been pretty great, man. Not a bad place to start at all.” 

“That's good, I’m glad. How is…how is she?” 

Josh was starting to get confused at the sudden small talk, “what’s this about, Jake?

“It’s not about anything, I promise, I just…wanted to see how you were.” 

Josh looked back down at your sleeping form, fully knocked out at this point and beginning to snore slightly on his chest. 

“She’s good, Jake, really good. How’s CiCi?” 

Now it was Jake’s turn to look down at his girl, who was also still fast asleep beside him. 

“She’s CiCi, incredible as always.” Jake paused before asking what was truly on his mind, “I just have a question…and I’m not trying to start anything I promise I just…what made you do it?” 

“Do what, Jake?” 

“Choose to be turned instead of-”

“Instead of death, Jake?” 

Jake quietly answered, “yeah.”

“They were going to have her Meet the Sun, Jake. In front of me. I couldn’t let that happen.” The emotion he felt while sitting in Dimitri’s study crept up on him, as did the vision he had had of her burning in front of him. 

“You must think a lot of her, then.” 

Josh could tell what Jake was trying to do, in his own way. 

“I love her, Jake.” 

There was silence on Jake’s end, but he cut it off by saying, “does she feel the same?”

Josh drew patterns on your bare shoulder as he answered, “she absolutely does.” 

Jake tried to angle his phone away from his face to hide the sniff he made as he took in this information, but Josh heard it anyway. 

“Can I ask you a question now, Jake?” 

“Yeah.”

“What was the first thing you noticed about CiCi?” 

Jake was caught off guard now, not expecting this turn in the conversation. However, he instantly knew the answer.

“Her laugh. I had only been in her bar for about 5 minutes before I heard the most beautiful sound coming from across the room. She was making small talk with some customers and the way she commanded attention without even trying…I was mesmerized.” 

Josh smiled, having not known this little fact before, “and did it sound almost familiar to you?” 

“I suppose so?”

“That’s how I felt the night I met my girl, Jake. The familiarity.” 

“Really?”

“She was supposed to be a target, just a target, just a job. But when I walked into that bar that night, and saw her sitting in the corner, there was something about her. I knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time, that she wasn’t going to be just a job. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew she was going to be something to me. I’ve never looked at a Vampire and felt that way before, and you of all people know that.” 

Jake nodded, “I’m umm…I’m glad you found someone, Josh. I mean that.”

Josh smiled softly, “I appreciate that, and I’m glad you did too.” 

There was another silence between the brothers, but this was a comfortable one. 

“I don’t mean to keep you up, I know the sun should be rising about now…”

“No it's ok, it’s good to hear from you, man. Call whenever you want.” 

“I will…talk to you soon…”

“Talk to you soon, Jake.” 

Jake hung up the phone and put it down before settling back into bed next to CiCi.

“...so, my laugh, huh?” She mumbled as she turned over to look at him. 

“How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough,” she said before tracing the outline of his nose with her finger. 

Jake playfully rolled his eyes before gathering her in his arms, “go back to sleep.”

“Gladly.” 

To be continued….

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze ,

[tenaciousjalapeno]

Testing The Cat Lady

1/?

Pairing: LA Buggy the Clown x Reader

Summary: Captain Buggy invades your small town because that's kind of his thing. Your methods of escape pique his interest, so he drops everything and drags you back to his tent for a little chat. However, you're enraged when you realize that your beloved cat is nowhere to be seen.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2300

A/N: This is my first time writing really anything, so please don’t be mean or I’ll cry. Kind of experimenting and finding my own style, so I can't promise consistency lol. Definitely open to any tips/pointers

A bright light rouses you from your sleep. Ugh. Everything is sore. Your heavy eyelids protest as you force them open, being met with a blue-haired man in clown makeup standing mere feet from you. A gasp escapes your dry, bound mouth as you’re jolted back into reality, tensing every muscle in your body. Much to your chagrin, you can’t move an inch. Checking yourself over, you see that your hands and feet are bound to a circular board.

The man turns toward you. “Wellll, good morning, sleepyhead! Hope you enjoyed your nap,” the man says with a large smile plastered across his face. However, the smile is anything but friendly. His tone is hostile, and his eyes are cold. You glance around the room, but it’s difficult to discern where you are. A large spotlight shines upon you and the clown, dousing anything outside of its beam with darkness.

Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. You mumble against the cloth stuffed into your mouth, trying to ask what the hell is going on. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, waving a finger in front of you. “I saw your little show back in town. That’s why I dragged your sorry ass back here.” He paces in front of you, never dropping eye contact. All humor has left his face, a mixture of irritation and curiosity left in its place.

Of course, you know what he’s referencing. It was your devil fruit ability.

Earlier in the day, the unexpected and unwelcomed bell rang across town to warn that pirates were nearing. From your hilltop bungalow on the outskirts of town, the brightly colored ship bearing a Jolly Roger sail was visible. It appeared to be far enough out for you to have time to gather some belongings before evacuating, so you did exactly that. However, you underestimated how prepared the crew was. Several bands of pirates had already surrounded your town, one of which infiltrated your small neighborhood. Panic set in, and adrenaline rushed through you. So, as if on instinct, you started to sing.

Back in your teenage years, you were a traveler. Never staying in one place for too long, you visited dozens of islands and adventured through both large cities and undeveloped areas alike. One of your escapades led you to a devil fruit – the Hum-Hum fruit, to be exact. Being the adventurer you were, how could you resist?

It gave you the ability to influence peoples’ emotions by singing to them. It had its pros and cons, but ultimately made a good defensive ability. It helped you out of a lot of sticky situations throughout your journeys right up until you decided to settle on this island and call it home. You acclimated to the friendly town easily and even befriended a scruffy orange kitten, who you decided to call Mango.

Overwhelming the pirates with a false, but intense fear, they cowered before you as you slowly backed away with a small rucksack and Mango held against your che- Wait. Mango!

You start thrashing against your restraints, hurling muffled expletives at this blue-haired jackass. What the fuck did they do with him?

He smiled again, genuinely this time, finally getting the reaction that he wanted from you. “You seem like you’ve got something to say, doll,” he states, pleased with himself. “I’ll be gracious enough to let you explain what you were doing to my freaks.” Is this an opening? “Oh, and my cauliflower-eared friend, Klaus, here is going to make sure you don’t try anything.” A large man with scarred ears steps into the light, startling you. No. It was not, in fact, an opening. The big, dumb-looking guy steps forward and removes your gag. He then takes a step back, mumbling something to the blue-haired man. You’re not positive, but you’re pretty sure he called the blue-haired man “captain.” So this guy is the captain of the invading pirates? Doesn’t look like much, you thought.

The captain stares at you eagerly, waiting for an explanation. You meet his gaze with a glare, seething and ready for a fight. “What did you do with my cat?” His face falls in disbelief.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Where. Is. My. Cat!”

He stares back, taking a moment to fully process your words before he starts flailing and yells, “A cat? Buggy the Clown – captain of the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known – has you tied up and helpless, ready to kill you if I have to, and you’re worried about a fucking cat?” Of course you are. Mango’s your best friend. Also, “most dreaded?” You’ve never even heard of him. This Buggy guy seems to think highly of himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know where your cat is. That is not the point. Now tell me what you were doing to my men!”

This guy clearly doesn’t comprehend how much you love your cat and how bull-headed you can be.

“I’m not answering anything until I have my cat back.”

“Fuck!” Buggy steps out of the light. You can’t see him, but you can hear him still yelling, utterly frustrated. “You, you, and you! Go find this dumbshit cat!”

You finally relax against the board, pleased. “He’s orange with a blue ribbon around his neck,” you call in a sing-song voice toward the darkness.

Buggy returns to the light and comes close, only stopping once your noses – wait is that clown nose real? – are nearly touching. “Once they bring that stupid cat back, you’re answering any question I’ve got.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you reply, smirking. With a final huff, he steps once more into the darkness. Initially, you were filled to the brim with fear, but seeing how much of an idiot this guy is puts you at ease. It takes roughly 30 minutes before you finally hear hissing and yowling in the distance. Atta boy, Mango. Give ‘em hell.

Another man, this one wearing a bear hood, steps into the light holding Mango out as far away from his body as possible. Bear-boy is clearly scratched to shit and relieved to finally be able to get this thing away from him. He drops your cat and dips back into the darkness as quickly as possible. Mango lets out another loud hiss before calming at the sight of you and trotting over to rest at your feet.

Buggy walks back up to you, clearly no less aggravated than he was earlier. “Now answer my questions, shithead! What were you doing to my men?” The nicknames are getting a little more aggressive now, huh?

You shoot him a dirty look and slowly choose your words while looking down to make sure your cat hasn’t been harmed. His tail is puffed out in anger, but he seems fine otherwise. “I was singing to them,” you reply matter-of-factly.

The clown’s face falls again, in stark contrast of the large, red smile painted onto his face. “Singing,” he repeats flatly. “You were singing.” It’s not even a question so much as a statement. The gears in his head start turning, and he mumbles to himself. “I figured it was a witch’s incantation or something. How does singing have any effect on my men?”

“It’s my devil fruit ability.” His face whips toward you. This clearly has his interest piqued. As fun as it would be to torment this clown, you just want to get out of these restraints, so you decide to give him the information he so clearly wants outright. “I ate the Hum-Hum fruit. I can control peoples’ emotions by singing to them.”

Licking his lips and smiling, Buggy stares at you even more intently now. “Show me.”

“Let me down first.” Bargaining might not be in your cards right now, but you decide it’s worth a shot. Surprisingly, the bold request pays off though, as the captain comes forward to undo your restraints. With him this close, you notice that he has a surprisingly nice floral scent.

“I’ll need an audience,” you say, rubbing your sore wrists once freed. With a nod, he looks into the darkness and jerks his head, motioning for several unseen crewmates to come closer. Scooping Mango up off the ground, you finally step out of the oppressive spotlight. It takes a minute for your eyes to fully adjust, but you take in the room. It’s more of a tent, really, with striped tarps set up and seating placed around the edge. Fitting, you suppose, for a circus clown to reside in a circus tent. Your eyes land on your small audience seated on the benches. It’s only four people, one of which is Bear-boy, now with gauze wrapped around his hands and forearms. Smiling back down at Mango, you give him some scritches under his chin, making him purr softly. What a good boy.

“Alright, doll. Go ahead.” Back to the nice nicknames now that he’s getting his way, it seems. Holding up your end of the bargain, you fulfill his request. This captain is a fool though, letting you freely use your ability. Once you’ve got them cowering again, you’re going to book it out of the tent. The big, cauliflower-eared guy can’t hear you, but you should still be able to outrun him.

As you start singing, the captain watches on with a large smile, looking back and forth between you and your audience. They laugh, then cry, then start yelling and throwing punches at each other. But… Why isn’t Buggy reacting? A gloved hand – a dismembered hand – flies forward and clasps your mouth shut. Holy shit! You jump back with wide eyes, but the hand follows. Looking back to the captain, you see that his smile has grown impossibly wide. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the audience scurry away. What the hell is he trying to pull? Eyeing him up and down you notice that his left arm ends in a stump. Wasn’t there a hand there before? The moment your eyes dart back up to his face a set of what appear to be ears comes flying toward him and pop back onto the sides of his head.

As much as you want to, your body is too frozen in fear to back away. The clown releases your mouth and the hand returns to him and pops onto the end of his arm. He laughs at your expression and circles you. “What, you think you’re the only person who’s ever eaten a devil fruit? I myself ate the Chop-Chop fruit.” Right before your eyes, his body breaks apart into a dozen pieces before reassembling. So that’s why he wasn’t affected by your ability. He can’t hear you if his ears are off somewhere else. “You can slice me, and you can dice me, but I will always put myself back together again.”

Klaus comes forward and grabs you by the arms, making Mango fall to the ground. He once again stands before your feet hissing at the captain in a feeble attempt to protect you. Buggy’s detached hand flies toward your cat grabbing him by the scruff and pulls him up toward his face. Mango writhes, trying to free himself to no avail.

“No!” you scream. “You leave him alone!”

That annoyingly perpetual smile remains plastered on Buggy’s face. Four daggers slide from his coat, one between each of his fingers, in a clear attempt to intimidate you. “Or what?” You have no answer for him. In ideal circumstances, you could influence him to lose interest in both you and your cat, but being bound by a big deaf guy seriously limits your chances of escape. The feelings of panic and despair from earlier are flooding back to you. Tears fall down your face.

 “I- I don’t know,” you admit with a small sob. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s all I have.”

Buggy’s smile falters for a moment at your begging. If you blinked, you would have missed it. Recovering his smile again, he taps the daggers against his chest, pretending to mull over your pleas. “Alright, I won’t.” He steps closer again, now inches away from you. “If you join my crew, that is. You could prove useful.”

You look up at him. His blue-green eyes – which are admittedly, the most beautiful you’ve ever seen – stare back at you intently. Inexplicably, there’s a flutter in your chest, but it’s quickly replaced with a hard drop as Mango lets out another yowl. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “I’ll join your crew. Just please give me back my cat.” He takes a step back and his hand comes forward to place Mango back into your arms. You hold your scared pet to your chest, stroking him in an attempt to soothe both him and yourself.

“Cabaji,” Buggy shouts, summoning a man with strange striped hair forward. “We just added another showstopping member to our crew. This is cause for celebration, don’t you think?” The man, Cabaji, nods and disappears into another room off the main tent. The clown turns to face you once more, his smile more subtle now. He grabs your arm and dismisses Klaus. For a split second, you consider taking this chance to run, but something tells you that your freedom would be short-lived. “I’m so happy you decided to join me, doll,” he says much more softly now. “You and your little friend there will make a nice addition to the show.”

Wrapping his arm around you, he steers toward the door that Cabaji left through moments ago. He leans down close to your ear, his breath tickling as he quietly states, “By the way, songbird. I’ve got a strict agreement with Mohji to not hurt cats.”

[lacrymatoryao3]

Bloedzuiger

Dutch Van der Linde/GN!Reader

Dutch Van der Linde is a vampire who crashes your family's party and targets you as his next victim.

#### 1,715 Words (AO3 Link)

You weren’t in the habit letting strangers into your home. You knew the risks of that from living in such a violent town full of cowboys, miners, and outlaws in equal measure. But on that evening your family was hosting a party. So when a knock came from the front door, you thought nothing of it. The man who stood in front of you looked familiar enough to you. Perhaps a distant relative you only saw one or twice in your life, or someone who lived in the area that your family was cordial with.

He introduced himself as a Mr. ‘Dutch’ Van der Linde. He took your hand in his with two gold rings on his fingers. On his pinky a circular one with the face of a lion that had two small rubies for eyes. On his middle was a larger rectangular signet ring with a gold D in black enamel in a Gothic font. He pressed his thin and abnormally cool lips to your top palm. His facial hair tickled your flesh, a black and well groomed mustache and an unshaven patch just above his chin.

He gave an odd energy. It was alluring, yet your deepest instincts shivered. Despite it, you were drawn to him. He was an older gentleman, but not elderly. Somewhere in his 40s, if you had to guess. He was quite tall and slender, but something told you he held incredible strength if the circumstances called for it.. His black hair was long, swept behind his ears and reached down to his neck. It was mostly straight, except with thick and loose curls at the ends. His almond shaped and wide set eyes were also dark. In the mixture of night outside and the kerosene fed lighting inside, they almost glowed like amber. Even stranger, they were piercing. As he gazed at you, it felt like he was reading your very thoughts and it only further fascinated you. It kept you looking upon his angular face, with high cheekbones that had a noticeable mole on the right one and a large well shaped nose.

His fine clothing was also dark. He had on a black velvet, wide lapel frock coat that made his figure striking. The lining of it a deep red silk, in the pocket was a well folded handkerchief that corresponded with it. His vest was also velvet and red, with gold buttons and a matching single watch chain suspended from one of them. His pants were black, the usual cut that men wore though a bit tighter than what was normal, covering his black leather boots.

It was only a brief moment that felt like hours. You welcomed him in. When he stepped over the threshold you felt and icy breeze. You led him into the large parlor where everyone else was. You offered him a drink, but he refused. He excused himself by explaining he doesn’t partake in alcohol. He wasn’t much interested in the table of canapes either, but he did help himself to a cigar.

You excused yourself to allow Dutch to mingle with the other guests. It was difficult to do so, like something had possessed you to desire to only want his attention in return for yours. You didn’t stray far. As he wandered around and chatted, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You weren’t the only one, except in the eyes of your families and partygoers there was a glimmer of deep unease when they were near him.

It was a short time later he returned to you. He found you sitting quietly in the corner with a glass of wine. His warm smile and gentle gaze intoxicated you more than spirit you were sipping ever could. He leaned over you playfully, the shadow of his form enveloped you and made you dizzy. His voice was more stimulating than the music playing over the phonograph.

Dutch extended his hand to you, “Would you care to dance with me?”

“Of course!” You replied, exhilarated by the offer.

Standing up, the both of you went to an empty spot in the room. He quickly swept you close to him, resting one hand on your lower back and taking one of your hands into his ringed one. Like his lips, they were abnormally cold. His firm hold that made your heart race, to the point you couldn’t feel his at all. It was as if he took control of your body as you twirled almost inhumanly around the floor. The people around side eyed the two of you nervously, but you didn’t care. Nor did you have any concern when you caught a glimpse of yourself – and only yourself – in a large mirror on the wall. He seemed completely absent.

You spent the rest of the evening in his company until it became late into the night when people began to leave. You felt so high, so alive, it was almost unbearable to think of parting with him. If it had not been scandalous, you would have begged him to stay. As you saw him to the door, it felt like he could sense it.

“Don’t worry,” Dutch said soothingly, “I’m sure we will see each other again.”

You deeply hoped that would be true.

When you crawled into your bed after everything was cleaned up and settled, you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely. What manner of a man, this Dutch Van der Linde, made you long for him so? What about him made you want? To throw away all propriety? To risk your reputation? You felt like you were missing a part of you, withdrawing from the strongest drug.

You turned onto your side, taking one of your pillows and holding onto it. You pretended it was him. Lying beside you, holding you in his arms, speaking all those pretty little things he did during the party. His voice soothing you into sleep.

In between the realm of slumber and wakefulness you started to hear something strange at your window. At first you ignored it, thinking it was a lucid dream. It became more insistent and demanding. It sounded like tapping against the glass. You sat up, trying to figure out what it could be. It wasn’t a tree branch, the elms and oaks weren’t close enough to the house. It persisted until you finally got up to investigate. You pulled the curtains back, flooding yourself and the room in bright moonlight. You lifted the lower pane of you window and stuck your head out. You couldn’t see anything when you looked around, except a blanket of mist on the lawn.

It moved with an intelligence you had never seen, one that hypnotized you. It crawled along the grass and up the outer wall of the house. It poured through the window and surrounded you in a cold embrace you welcomed. It felt like someone was taking hold of your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you backward to your bed.

You sat down and laid back obediently. In the mist, there were little flecks of dust. They whirled around in front of you, taking on a human shape as they danced quicker and gathered together. At first he was just a phantom, then materialized was the man who had become the object of your desire. It didn’t disturb your sense of soothing calm. You just stared at him with half closed eyes.

Dutch was sitting at the edge of your bed hovering over you. He looked just the same was earlier, except his eyes glowed more intensely and he changed his clothes to a brocaded black vest with a red back panel. The watch chain suspended from the button had a red gem suspended from it. He caressed your cheek with his fingertips. They then trailed down your face to the left side of your neck. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasurable and repulsive at the same time. You gasped, your head tilting over to give him better access to the delicate flesh. He leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on your skin, causing it to tickle in an unfamiliar way.

“Yes, yes, just relax…” Dutch whispered in your ear, opening the collar of your nightclothes and pulling it away from your body, “Don’t you worry. I only take what I need.”

His tongue darted out of his mouth. He pressed it against your shoulder and slowly dragged it along where your jugular vein was hidden beneath the surface. He stopped halfway when he found a particularly sensitive spot that made you groan under the pressure. He let out a low chuckle.

You could only pant when his lips latched onto that area of your neck, then the tips of two sharp eye teeth. Then you felt them pierce you. Your eyes widened as an unbearable and stinging pain tore through your body. It slowly dissipated, being replaced by a tranquillizingly warm numbness. You felt a hot wetness from the wounds he created, which he sucked and licked up with satisfied sighs.

He was drawing large amounts of blood, at least from your point of view. Even if you wanted to stop him, you couldn’t. The moment he bit you he controlled you. He owned you. He now knew every little thing about you. Your hopes, your fears. Your thoughts and desires. Your personality was bared before him as he drank.

Time seemed to slow. It felt like the entire night went by in your stupor, until he finally had his fill. He closed the wounds and lifted his head. You finally saw the face of a human man, a mask hiding the creature underneath. You could see the stains of your blood on his lips.

“You are a delight.” Dutch said, “I will make a visit to you again.”

He kissed your forehead and stood, leaving out of the window from where he came. You closed your heavy eyes. Weak and light headed, you fell into a deep and dreamless unconsciousness.

In the morning at breakfast your family noticed your paleness and how frail you seemed. They wanted to call for a doctor, which you refused. You would become strong again in time. When you did, you hoped Dutch would keep his promise.

[noa748]

still unnamed bg3 bunny (part 2)

one of these days I'll think of a title.

meeting Gale took up more words than I thought haha

[Part 1]

----

“Ugh,” Astarion groused, swatting at the back of his neck. “Biting flies, midges… isn’t nature supposed to be peaceful?”

I snorted; his timing was so perfect, I couldn’t even be mad. “Spoken like a true city dweller.”

Shadowheart remained quiet, as she had been for a while now. She had seemed unsettled by the memory the mind flayer had forced to the surface during our encounter earlier. Based on a few of the comments Astarion had made, I gathered that we all saw something different.

“I suppose you’ll tell me next that it’s an acquired taste,” he said; I could hear the eye roll in his voice. “Like your… interesting choice in raiment.”

“I mean, it sort of is—hey!” I faltered midsentence and shot him a look. It had been so long since I heard someone use the world raiment in casual conversation, it hadn’t clicked right away. Why did everyone keep picking on my clothes?

“I mean no offense,” he said, holding his hands up, but the amusement in his eyes said otherwise. “But you’ve hardly the look of a ranger, my dear. Where exactly did you say you were from?”

“A long way away,” I responded, tearing my gaze from his and training my eyes carefully forward.

“How boring.” Disdain crept into his tone at my vague response, but he let the matter drop.

A small rush of relief drained some of the tension from my muscles. I didn’t really care what Astarion thought, yet his prodding made me uncomfortable all the same.  

You’d think I’d be a pro by now, after years and years of concealing parts of myself—but I had never gotten any better at outright lying. Deflecting was great; it only worked for so long before people started to get pissed at you, though. It was the reason why most of my friendships over the past decade had felt shallow. Hell, it was the reason my last ex had broken up with me. He said he couldn’t be with someone who kept him perpetually at arm’s length.

Why am I thinking about this?

I told myself to focus, silently cursing Astarion for putting me on a darker train of thought. None of that mattered now. Besides, it wasn’t like these two were shining beacons of transparency either.

The trees abruptly fell away and we emerged out on to a wider path, this one paved with cobblestones. The plume of black smoke from the ruined ship rose up over the trees to our left. To the right, the path led up a gentle incline alongside some cliffs.

“A maintained road,” Shadowheart mused. “We must be close to a settlement.”

“Well, we’re certainly close to something. Do you hear that?” Astarion asked in a low voice.

I did. It was a strange, almost metallic grinding noise combined with the crackle of static electricity. Naturally, it was coming from up ahead. It was either the weird noise or go back in the direction of the ship, so I made the executive decision to move toward the weird noise. In the lead. Again.

It wasn’t long before we found the source. As the path curved around the cliffs, I could see a bright purple light emanating from one of the rock outcroppings. I gave the area a wide berth, pausing to examine the disturbance from a distance.

“Odd. Something is going on with that rune,” Shadowheart commented. “We’d best keep our distance.”

The rune, as she described it, was a large circular sigil etched on to the stone. It was glowing with that fierce purple light, and in its center was a tempest of unstable energy and crackling lightning. It looked almost like… some kind of portal.

As soon as the word portal entered my mind, I found myself edging closer.

“You know, I do enjoy the way you plow on ahead with total disregard for consequences,” Astarion jibed from somewhere behind me.

I ignored him. It didn’t look like the portal the mind flayer had opened when it grabbed me, but still… it couldn’t be a coincidence that something like this popped up so close to the ship. Right?

Hesitant, I reached out to touch the sigil, only to get burned by a spark flying out of the chaotic storm. I flinched away with a pained hiss.  

Then a whole ass arm burst out of the sigil’s center, scaring the daylights out of me. I stumbled back, watching as the arm waved this way and that, as if reaching for something.

“A hand? Anyone?”

An expectant male voice echoed from the swirling void. I stared incredulously. What the actual fuck?

Uncertain, I looked over my shoulder at my companions. Shadowheart was frowning, but clearly had no desire to approach. Astarion looked like he wanted to break out the popcorn.

Well, I was clearly on my own for this one. I turned back to the sigil, staring at the beckoning hand. Steeling myself, I reached out and grabbed it. I braced one foot against the adjacent rock and began to pull.

The inky blackness at the center of the sigil provided a surprising amount of resistance. It was like the man was stuck somehow—if it was a man, and this wasn’t just an arm attached to some monstrosity that was playing me like an anglerfish. Nothing would surprise me at this point.

“That’s it—go on, keep pulling!” the voice called.

 Gripping his forearm with my other hand, my sore shoulders crying in protest, I gave a final hard yank. That seemed to do the trick; the sense of resistance suddenly disappeared and I found myself losing my balance, the momentum carrying me backwards. The owner of the hand—a brown haired, bearded man clad in purple—came sailing out of the void and landed roughly on his hands and knees beside me.

He let out a little groan as he stood, clearly experiencing his own share of aches and pains. Now he reached out a hand once more, this time to help me to my feet. Behind him, the strange energy emanating from the sigil had dissipated. If there had been any danger, it was gone now.

“Hello,” he said, smiling and giving the hand he still held a quick shake before stepping back. “I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Apologies, I’m usually better at this.”

“At what? Getting stuck in your own portal?” Astarion snorted behind me. I shot him a withering look over my shoulder before turning back to the newcomer.

“Just ignore him. And don’t worry about it,” I said. “Are you… uh, are you okay?”

“A bit shocked, but friend, it’s a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he responded.

I was still a bit taken aback, and for a moment I found myself sizing him up. On first impressions, he looked decidedly… nonthreatening. I didn’t mean that in an insulting way—it was just something about the warmth in those brown eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

That’s how I know I’m in a video game, I thought suddenly, exasperated. Everyone’s fucking hot.

“Say, but I know you, don’t I? In a manner of speaking,” Gale said, eyes lighting up with an inquisitive gleam. I saw him glance over my shoulder to my companions, then back to me. “You were on the nautiloid as well.”

Another victim? Apparently Astarion wasn’t the only one that had been conscious for the dragon attack. I cringed inwardly; how many people had watched as I ran past, potentially leaving them to their deaths? How many people had cried out like Shadowheart, their voices drowned out by the chaos? I could never have saved them all, but it was still upsetting to think about.

“We were, yes,” Shadowheart answered when I hesitated. “What of it?”

Gale straightened, expression sobering. “Then I can only assume you too were on the receiving end of a rather… unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.” He tapped a finger beside his right eye for emphasis.

I made a face. “Gross, but yeah.”

“No sense sugarcoating it, is there?” he replied, lips curling in a rueful smile. “The insertee we speak of, this parasite – are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation it will turn us into mind flayers? It’s a process known as ceremorphosis, and let me assure you: it is to be avoided.”

Ceremorphosis. Hearing that it had a name, like some sort of medically diagnosable condition, somehow made it all the more real. It made me picture myself lying on an operating table under harsh fluorescents, a ring of surgeons peering down at me. Stage IV ceremorphosis. Extraction may be impossible, but we can remove the tentacles if you like.

“You don’t happen to be a cleric, by any chance, do you?” Gale asked me. “A doctor? Surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?” He made a stitching motion with one hand to illustrate his point.

“You seem to know enough about our condition to realize it is beyond most clerics’ skills,” Shadowheart pointed out.

“Most, no doubt,” he acknowledged. “But I find myself hoping to be in the presence of the few. You don’t happen to be one of them?”

“Unfortunately, no. We’ve been looking for a healer, too,” I replied. He hardly seemed surprised.

Oh. Right! We were all in the same boat. This was my cue.

“Why don’t you come with us?” I asked.

“A most excellent idea. One I was moments away from proposing myself,” Gale said, the easy smile brightening his features once more. “A parasite shared is a parasite halved—or something to that effect.”

I met his gaze, an amused little smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. I kind of liked this guy; it was refreshing to finally meet someone with a shred of good humor left.

“Oh! But before you think you’re about to embark on a journey with most ill-mannered a man: thank you for pulling me out of that stone,” he continued, bowing his head for a moment in gratitude. “It was an act of foresighted kindness I assure you, for I have the feeling ample opportunities will present themselves to return the favor.”

He straightened once more. At this point I couldn’t hold back my grin. Finally, someone nice! If a little long-winded—he’d uttered more words in the span of a few minutes than my other traveling companions and I had exchanged since we’d met. Still, I could live with that.

“Speaking of manners, I guess we should probably introduce ourselves,” I said. “I’m Brittany. It’s nice to meet you, Gale.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied. Then his gaze wandered over to my companions.

“Astarion,” the elf said, tilting his chin up in a decidedly snobbish manner. “We’ll get along wonderfully, I’m sure—so long as you maintain ample distance with your spellcasting.”

“If that’s what you wish, so be it,” Gale said, unfazed by the barb. “But I’ll have you know that I’m a wizard of considerable acclaim and a scholar of exceptional accomplishment. Our abilities may have been dampened by this parasite, but I assure you, foregoing my protection would be very ill-advised indeed."

"Oh, considerable acclaim?" Shadowheart said, tilting her head with the usual mysterious smile. It was hard to tell if she was mocking or just being coy. “Well, our luck must be turning at last. I’m Shadowheart.”

She turned, gazing out at the path ahead and then up at the sky, which was starting to turn a faint shade of pink. “As enjoyable as this moment of respite has been, we should probably get moving. We’re running out of daylight, and still no solutions at hand.”

“Yes, of course. Lead the way and I shall follow,” Gale replied.

There was a moment’s pause, and I suddenly felt Shadowheart and Astarion staring. Seriously?! At this point I felt like my meat shield status was becoming something of a running joke. I could see it in their eyes.

I hate you both, I thought, smiling sweetly at them as I walked past to take the lead. I couldn't help but feel like this might be karmic retribution for my shithead behavior as a teenager.

Sorry, Regal. Sorry, Kratos.

----

A/N: shadowheart and astarion being bitchy together is my favorite thing tbh

gaaaaale!!! sticking pretty close to game script for most of the character intros, but there will be plenty of party banter to make up for it.

was going to get to lae'zel next but I think withers has to happen first. gotta let the (party) mixture breathe for a moment before adding more ingredients har har

[Part 3]

[thelaundrybitch]

Their birthday gifts you

First is the physical present. Matching wrist bracelets, they look similar in style to a watch, with a two bands coming off a circular unit.

The circular assembly back has two small metal prongs that provide full contact with the skin and the face has the a back-lit heart at its center the kanoji 心, which means "heart", "mind", "spirit", "feelings", "emotions".

The face of the unit can be pushed allowing the prongs on the back to record the wearer's body metrics, feelings, thoughts and transmit them to the other unit.

He's able to convey his thoughts and feelings for you, and how his body reacts to those thoughts with the click of a button

You are surprised to find how often your nerd-boy-genius thinks of naughty things after the rush of a fight. The information so unexpected and, seemingly, out of character. Now you understand why he drops by so often after a night of patrol since you two are an item.

The second present dings to your phone later that evening when he's on patrol.

It's a video file. It's starts out dark screened but you here Closer by NIN start playing, purple LED lighting fades up and your tall turtle Beau is standing there stark naked, bo staff leisurely dropped across his shoulder. As the song progresses, he starts his routine, his own ninja style "pole dance", both his poles flying and swinging with skill.

He's crouched in the shadows of a building with his brothers when his bracelet dimly lights up, the bracelet letting him know the 2nd present was well received and you are impatiently waiting for him to get there.

Blue boy's presents aren't as flashy as his tall brother's but they are well thought through nonetheless.

Stoic Leo. You know he loves you, he tells you so in moments of privacy. But the disciplined leader keeps his inner most thoughts and feelings guarded and tucked away, feelings and emotions can cloud judgement, jeopardize a mission or worse, be used as a weapon, and your safety is of utmost.

Your birthday starts with a good morning text, he's headed to bed, but he will ensure you know from the moment you wake up that he's thinking of you.

As you smile through sleepy eyes at your text, you become aware of the scent of cinnamon floating through your apartment. Climbing out of bed your follow your nose to the kitchen, noting along the way how your apartment has been cleaned and your laundry from the night before his neatly folded in its basket.

In the oven you find a stack of pancakes warming on a plate and a ceramic bowl of sliced apples in a cinnamon glaze for their topping.

Late afternoon you receive an audio file to your phone, of a happy birthday message Leo, his voice still a little gruff from just walking up, he's cooking dinner so don't make any plans.

Within 10 minutes of the sunsetting, you hear your window slide up and Leo, laden do with bags of groceries, steps through smiling.

He greets you by dropping the bags, lifting you you high so that you are staring down at him and twirls with you, exclaiming happy birthday and what a gift you are to him.

He runs you a hot bath, helps you in, brings you a book with a glass of wine, and tells you he'll be back to get you when dinner ready (not to worry, Mikey helped him meal prep and wrote down specific instructions so it shouldn't take long).

You reach the bottom of your wine glass when he steps in with a bottle of your favorite lotion and robe in-hand.

He refuses to allow you to help as he dries you off and lotions every inch of you rubbing out muscles as he goes.

After a delicious candle lit dinner, followed by mini-cakes, he hands you a box wrapped in a bow. Inside you find a thick and somewhat worn notebook.

He tells you it's his daily journal, one that he started just about a month before you two met, so the first several pages will just be his thoughts on missions, his critiques for area of improvement, and...rants about Raph's attitude.

However, it details the night you two met and his inner most thoughts of the situation. His slow release of denial of his crush, then his utter infatuation. You are able to literally read him falling in love with you.

If you ever doubted the depths of his feelings for you, his journal shows just how wrong you were.

A night of passion and his appreciation of having you in his life is what follows.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉

@wynndigogh I'M CRYING

This is so so perfect 😭

My freaking heart.

DON 👀👀👀 THAT BRACELET 🔥🔥🔥

And Leo's notebook?

Holy hell I would've just sobbed reading it.

What an incredibly romantic thing for him to do 😭

I can't even thank you enough for this. It was perfect 💖🫶🏼

[lumilasi]

Spooktober day 10: Haunted House (+ Ava & Roman's apartment)

Finally, after 3 days I'm finished with this one. I decided to still keep this as a spooktober prompt as well, but the bottom one is the "canonical" look/vibe for this place. (I know the perspectives are all out of wack, never tried to make this look realistic lol)

Below, I've listed more info for the actual home of my main gal and her BF:

Living room & hallway:

They have a special house-phone at the end of the entrance hallway which is common in their world. This one is something you can use to also make calls in into the human realm, when compared to Ether-style cellphones. These are typically powered by special spacial crystals. (Ether's energy source is these crystals, rather than electricity, you won't see electricity sockets anywhere as a result)

The glowing wall decor is an actual vine plant, not LED lights. They are common decorative item among fae folk like Ava, a special plant that once harvested can survive up to 5-10 years by absorbing magic particles from the air. The glow is a side effect of this process and the color changes depending on the seasons. (Winter = white, Spring = light green, Summer = warm orange red, Fall = Yellow)

They typically dine at the window seat table. Ava used to eat at the small half-circle one in her kitchen when she lived alone, but they decided to get a bigger table when Roman moved in, and placed it in the living room as it was more spacious.

Bedroom

The wardobe facing the bed is a common enchanted one, where it is bigger on the inside and functions more like a closet. These are common ways to solve storage problems in Ether.

the window seat is one of Ava's favorite places to drink her coffee or tea during early mornings.

The Dr. Who policebox wardrobe has a mirror on the door, (Couldn't make it visible from this angle) which sometimes spooks Roman when he's waking up very dazed and groggy.

Bathroom

Ava and Roman have a very typical Washing-drum for their clothes. It is not earth-like washing machine, but a wooden rectangular drum (can also be circular) with special water and heat producing crystals at the bottom. This magic device both washes and dries clothes. The crystal turns from red to green once its done.

The small red and yellow mat in front of the sink was Roman's contribution, Ava asked him to pick one (she doesn't mind it clashes with the rest of the bathroom colors, Ava finds it charming)

Kitchen

The entire kitchen was redesigned by Roman, after Ava gave him permission to decide on it since she was planning on changing it up anyway. (She did this as their first anniversary gift, wanting to have him feel more at home in her place by contributing something more major to how it looks)

The place was designed to somewhat mimic Roman's childhood kitchen, as one of his fondest early memories was watching his late mama cook there.

Like the washer, dishwasher is also Ether-styled, another magic barrel embedded into the cabinets, this one has a circular rack to pull up and place the dirty dishes on.

Library/Study

This room hasn't changed much from the time this apartment was occupied by Ava's uncle, Alois. The only thing she added was the pillow pile/fluffy blanket for Roman to snooze on when he is in his hound form.

The study table spot also has a mirror that can be covered with doors; Ava often does her make up here to leave the bathroom free for Roman to use.

More fun facts

The apartment is at the corner of an U-shaped building, and the way to access the apartments in this building is an outdoor balcony pathway instead of an indoor corridor.

There is a front yard park of sorts in the middle of the U-shape, that also includes a special patio area for hanging out. Ava sometimes uses it for a small gathering or a party with her friends during summer, as the area can be sound proofed with magic, to not bother other neighbors.

The back windows of the apartments face a large park; Ava's workplace - Night City tattoo parlor - is almost right across from it, so she often shortcuts through the park to get to work. The side windows face the next similar building and a street. Front windows naturally face the inner yard.

Yoruga, Roman's coworker, lives in the same apartment building, just at the opposite side, and at the end of the U arm. (His apartment is also smaller, a two-room instead of three rooms)

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Hello!

I've got a Gallifreyan friend living here on Earth. They've managed to fit in and get used to the planet, but they've been feeling homesick. So, my question is: what are some of the ways to make them feel like they are back on Gallifrey? I don't know anything about the culture, or their ways of living, or the food... I'm willing to learn and help out a friend!

Thank you in advance!

How do I help a Gallifreyan who's home sick?

Helping your Gallifreyan friend feel a touch of home on Earth is a thoughtful and caring gesture. Here's how to sprinkle some Gallifreyan into their Earthly life.

🌌 Create a Cosy Gallifreyan Look

Gallifrey has some stunning vistas your friend may be missing. If you live together or otherwise have the opportunity, you could decorate their room or communal rooms to show that off - mimic the burnt orange skies and silver-leafed flora of Gallifrey by adorning a room with warm, orange hues, silver accents, and perhaps a mural of the iconic Citadel if you're feeling daring. LED lights, sunset lamps, and maybe even a DIY Kasterborous constellation on the ceiling could bring the Gallifreyan heavens right to your living room. You could also incorporate the elegant, circular Gallifreyan script into gifts, wall art, or even coasters.

📚 Literature and Art

Dive into Earth's science fiction and fantasy, finding parallels with Gallifreyan epics. Maybe host a "Gallifreyan Book Club," where each read is followed by a lively debate on temporal ethics.

🔠 Language

Learning Gallifreyan phrases is no small feat, but even mastering a "Good Morning" can demonstrate a real interest in your friend's culture and make them feel more homely.

🍲 A Taste of Gallifrey

Gallifreyan dishes might be elusive on Earth, but you can experiment. Create dishes inspired by the diverse tastes of the cosmos—maybe a dessert that's a visual tribute to the Untempered Schism, with swirling patterns and a touch of edible silver, or even just recipes with unique ingredients or cooking methods that are out of the ordinary.

🌿 Gallifrey in Bloom

If you have the space, create a small garden or indoor plant area silver-leaved plants (dusty miller or lamb's ear) and vibrant orange blooms (marigolds or California poppies). This can be a peaceful spot for your friend to feel connected to the landscapes of Gallifrey.

🌐 Stimulate the Gallifreyan Mind

Gallifreyans love a good puzzle. Why not organise a game night every week with logic puzzles and strategy games, or even just a book club focusing on topics like astrophysics, philosophy, or time travel.

🌟 Cosmic Connection

Arrange nights dedicated to observing the cosmos, maybe with a telescope borrowed from your local astronomy club. Discussing the stars, their histories, and mysteries is a great night for a Gallifreyan.

🔄 Earthly Traditions, Gallifrey Style

Merge Earth holidays with Gallifreyan customs. Too start with, Otherstide and Christmas are quite similar, it would be very easy to mix the two.

🤝 Telepathic Bonding (Metaphorically)

Living on a planet without a telepathic culture can make Gallifreyans feel quite cut off. While you can't establish a literal telepathic connection, deep conversations that allow for sharing thoughts can mimic this bond.

🏫 So...

Helping your friend alleviate their homesickness by incorporating elements of Gallifreyan culture into your shared experiences is a fab idea. It's the small gestures that will remind them that, while they might be far from Gallifrey, they're never truly alone. 🌍💫🌟

Related:

Factoid: What gift would suit my Gallifreyan and their biology?

What are some inhuman things about Time Lords that are noticeable after a few glances?: List of key identifiers for Gallifreyans.

How to track and manage artron levels?: How artron levels can be tracked and managed, plus symptoms of hypo/hyperartronosis and first-line treatment.

Hope that helped! 😃

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