#Let me tell you the visual of him standing so far away staring at you after you just exploded Habit is NEVER going to stop haunting me

[poke-is-a-dork]

Bad ending

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - He Thinks Nobody Knows

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where his friends rallied around him to own up to his feelings. Part 6 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.7k+

Warnings - mentions of drinking, swearing

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity

A/N - Apologies yet again! This took forever to finish. Even on days that I thought I would finish it, either my body would betray me and doze off or my head refused to cooperate. Hope you have fun though. Idk what it is about flustered Yoongi that fills my heart up so much! Not proofed.

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“One more time guys! Come on,” Jungkook urged, half panting, hands on his hips. He looked at Taehyung who was beside him a second ago but now was sprawled on the floor of the dance studio. This new choreography was tiring. 

“Let’s break for 10,” Justin, the choreographer, said. The dancers agreed and dispersed to different sides and corners of the room. Namjoon, Jin and a couple of other dancers left to get some juice from the cafeteria vending machine.

Yoongi plopped down on the floor at one end of the room, dragged his bag towards him and fished out his phone. He smiled down at the message that he saw first and honestly, was anticipating all day long. He typed out a quick reply, with the same smile plastered on his face.

Jimin, standing in front of him, opening a bottle of water, asked, “Is Y/N coming along then?” Yoongi nodded his head, almost involuntarily and then stopped typing and snapped his head up with a frown replacing the smile, almost comically, making the younger one laugh.

“Stop peeping into my phone!” he said.

“Nobody is peeping shit.”

“How’d you know then?”

“You had that stupid Y/N smile on.”

“What Y/N smile?”

Hoseok groaned from a little further away and said, “You guys should really just fuck already,” earning an eye-roll from the older man. He shook his head at the hint of denial and added, “You have that stupid lovestruck little grin on your face whenever you’re around her or even at the mention of her!” 

Yoongi’s cheeks and ears turned bashful red as he went back to his phone and muttered, resting his back against the wall, “I am not lovestruck.”

Jimin let out a chuckle at that and looked towards Hoseok who rolled his eyes this time but with a knowing smile.

Yoongi still felt flustered, an unexplainable nervousness wracking his head. He brought the phone closer to his face as he saw the animated typing bubble pop up on the chat. At Aera’s party, he had gathered enough courage to ask for her number, directly. It was not smooth. Or very subtle. But it did the job. That is enough for now.

“I just realised that we don’t have each other’s contacts yet,” Yoongi muttered, feeling his cheeks and ears heat up.

“You’re right,” Y/N nodded, leaning against the chair he was sitting on. She pulled her phone out, “Tell me your number, and I’ll leave a text.”

They were about 7 or 8 pegs in, each. Yoongi managed to start and sustain a few short conversations with Y/N so far when she was not engaged with her other friends.

Even when she was not talking with him, Yoongi’s attention was stuck on her. Watching her laugh, frown, dance with the others. He tried to not stare but he was not sure he succeeded much. He also learnt of how Aera first met Y/N on a holiday in Brussels. He tried and absorb as much information as he could. Audio. Visual. Anecdotal. 

Ever so often he realised that there is so much about Y/N that he does not know yet. A part of him was resolute to know more. At par with the others, whom she has had core memories and inside jokes with. Another part was hesitant. What if his interest is unwelcome? What if he is being selfish and inconsiderate?

Soon after, Dojoon and Jaehyeong proposed that the group (present at the "party") take a weekend trip to Sokcho. There were also a couple of days of public holidays, and Hajoon owned a beach house to comfortably house them all.

From the surprised look on the drummer’s face, it was clear that his bandmates did not consult him on the matter. But Hajoon enthusiastically agreed. He offered to drive up a day ahead and make all arrangements.

Sammy and a few others had preplanned personal or professional engagements in those days. But most people around the room agreed.

Yoongi had not said anything yet. As people around him started murmuring plans, his eyes went to Y/N. She glanced at Sammy and shook her head.

He felt his heart skip a beat.

Soon Jaehyeong pulled Y/N up from the armrest of the sofa that she was resting against, coaxing her to dance and spoke louder over the music and the chatter. “No excuses, you are coming.”

“Yeah I will take care of Ash, don’t worry,” Sammy offered.

“Stop behaving like you don’t know any of us,” Eunjae, another of their friends, chimed in.

Of course, she now knew so many of them. Some of them, she had also vacationed with before. But never without Sammy. But she had to deal with those nerves. A) She has to step a little out of her comfort zone. B) She wanted to go to the beach, especially if a certain acquaintance was also going. She had not heard him disagreeing, so she hoped that he was coming.

Slowly her attempts to disagree were shut down by her friends screaming louder than the last person. The ruckus carried on for a few seconds till she sighed out loud and said, “Fine, I will come.”

A few minutes later, Y/N came back and sat beside Yoongi, “Are you coming to Sokcho?” she held his gaze, unfaltering. She thanked the liquor in her system for calming her relatively jumpy nerves. He smiled and nodded. She nodded back. “Okay, good.”

Now, in the practice room, a message showed up on Yoongi's phone, “Is it going to be a shirt over a t-shirt kinda cold, or sweater and hoodies kinda cold?”

Yoongi did not notice his smile coming back, as usual, the others did. Before he could reply another message popped up, “I don’t want to overpack and tug along an unnecessarily large bag.”

Sokcho in April is pleasant. Yoongi has been there around this time before. “Shirts over t-shirts should be fine,” he replied. Instantly, an image of Y/N in one of his light blue shirts flashed across his mind. He could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Perfect! See you tomorrow then :)” 

“See you :)” [Can’t wait!]

______________________________________

The aforementioned tomorrow arrived agonisingly slowly. Yoongi had spent the evening with a couple of his friends. The alcohol did nothing to calm him. His friends persistently teasing him did not help. He thought he was private enough with his feelings for you. But with some of his dumbest friends catching up to it, he began to fear if you had an inkling. Surely, you must have known. Did you think he was odd? Creepy even? But why would you still be friends with him then? Surely, if you knew how much he liked you, and it did not make you uncomfortable, maybe you liked him too?

“You know, Sammy has probably told Y/N by now,” Yijeong said, smacking his lips as he put down the shot glass. He reached out for a chicken wing, but Yoongi slapped his hand away, picked up one of the biggest pieces and tore into it.

Hoseok laughed, his drunk-flushed face getting redder. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that could happen?” he said, folding his arms over his chest, spreading his legs out and up on the chair next to Yoongi.

Yoongi frowned back at his friend and almost dared him to answer his own question with his stare. Has Hobi actually forgotten the whining, pining piece of battered butter he had become when he was crushing on Hyeri (Hobi’s now girlfriend), not even an entire year back?

Breaking eye contact, Hobi shrugged a little before pouring himself another drink.

“Yeah just tell her man,” Yijeong urged, stopping to suck on the chicken bone and adding, “The more you wait, the worse the what ifs get.”

Yoongi gave his friend a side-eye but internally applauded this rare bit of wisdom.

“I want to,” he said in a quiet tone, alerting the other boys to the gravity of his words, a more understanding demeanour dawning over them, replacing their shit-eating grins.

“I mean, I have tried to— rather planned to tell her for a while,” Yoongi continued. “Every time I think of her, I am more convinced than ever that I should ask her out,” gesturing lively with his hands to signify something.

“You know like.. for a good old date, becau- because.. she has such a warm, comforting presence that I can be completely myself with her, no judgements, and I.. keep imagining all these scenarios where she can be as comfortable with me and share her likes and dislikes.” He stopped for a breath.

“I want to give her that space as well. But every time I am with her I am so soaked up in the conversation that there is no beat to bring this up, and when there is a pause, I see her interacting with Sammy or Dojoon, people who she has known for years I mean, and I feel like I will never know her as they know her and maybe I am intruding. Fucking hell, I can’t stop feeling like I am not worth her time - me, my life, all of this,” he gestured around at his very posh and minimalistic living room.

“Yeah, all of that sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Hobi groaned once he was certain Yoongi’s self-pitying soliloquy was over.

At a questioning look from the older guy, he shrugged and said, “See I know how difficult it is to open up to someone, especially for you. While you have every right to feel anxious and giddy, you cannot make decisions in your head on behalf of the person you like.” 

Yoongi was about to say something, probably along the lines of ‘I am not doing anything on behalf of her,’ but sensing a rebuttal, Hobi leaned forward, held a finger up and looked directly into Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi could not remember the last time he felt like he was getting a scolding from the dance leader but he was almost certain it never happened in a personal space. He gulped down the last bit of chicken he was chewing and held Hobi’s gaze, as if to say, “Okay, I am listening. Carry on.”

Hobi started, “Y/N has never said that you are not worth her time. In fact if I remember correctly, she has made time for you, to spend with you, every time you have met, even unannounced.” he paused and sniggered alongside Yijeong as they saw Yoongi wince slightly at his own antics. 

When Sammy told the others, Yoongi wanted to argue that he exaggerated his fluster but then the bastard pulled out receipts. When he returned from walking Woolfie on the first day Yoongi dropped in, he had clicked a picture of the dinner spread. But most importantly, in the background, there was Yoongi looking-no, scratch that- beaming, at Y/N. That single picture had Yoongi’s horde of generally chill friends invested in his crush situation.

[Fond smile]

“I understand your hesitancies but you need to stop kicking your own butt. You like her, hyung. Ask her out. Whatever she responds with, you’ll have a definite answer. No more mental gymnastics,” Hobi finished.

Straightforward. Logical. 

Not that these didn’t strike Yoongi before. But hearing it from a friend, head-on made him want to buckle up more. He nodded slightly.

“Hey and you have a three-day opportunity window coming up. I will even be your wingman if you need,” Yijeong offered in earnest.

A resounding “No” greeted his enthusiasm, to which he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Just wanted to help!” and carried on with his chicken wings foraging.

Three days is not a long time. But three days is longer than the few hours he had with her each time so far. As he saw his friends out and started putting together a bag for the trip, he tried to plan how to take things forward.

Surely all he had to do was talk. Tell you what was on his mind, about how much he likes you, how he intends to date you if you will have him. It should not be a life-threatening level anxiety-ridden matter.

And yet he felt those mammoth fluttering in his stomach. Unpleasant to the point of becoming nauseating. Deep down he knew he was scared of an outright rejection and he could not will himself together to face it.

Just then his phone dinged with a notification. It was placed on top of the dresser at the other end of the room. Shoving the last shirt in the bag and zipping it shut, he let out a sigh as he dragged his feet across the floor. 

Before he could reach out to grab the handset, Scar jumped up on the dresser.

“Are you not sleepy yet?” Yoongi asked softly and scratched the top of the cat’s head just like he knew the feline preferred. As the cat started purring, pleased with the petting and attention, Yoongi’s phone dinged a couple more times.

With his other hand, he reached around Scar and pulled his phone up near his face.

The latest couple of messages were from Namjoon.

“Hyung, think I left my AirPods at yours”

“Please get them tomorrow”

Yoongi tsk-ed internally. Of course.

As he dragged down the notification bar further to reveal more messages, his heart skipped a bit.

Y/N’s name shone out brighter to him than all else. The lockscreen showed that she had shared an image with him.

He could feel his heartbeat, loud and clear. As he clicked on the chat, his mind raced faster.

The Y/N smile came back. Only Scar saw it now. A little annoyed at the absence of scratches, he mewled lowly. 

Yoongi looked up and still smiling, turned his phone towards the cat.

“Think you will be friends with her?”

It was a picture of Ash sitting inside Y/N’s bag, with the caption, “Someone wants to come along.”

[Photo Y/N sent]

She would not text him if she was not thinking about him, right? That has to be a good thing, right? Before he could overthink too much, Yoongi wrote back, “I understand the appeal <3”

What the fuck does that mean? It means if I were Ash I would also want to go with you. Anywhere. Everywhere.

“I wish she could come too,” he added, thinking that would be more appropriate.

Quick dings again. Heart reacts to both messages.

His heart was now beating in his throat.

“Maybe next time I can look for a pet-proofed place and bring her along,” her reply read.

Heart react. Next time, “we” can book a pet-proofed place and go just by ourselves.

“I am sure she will love it,” he typed in.

“I will miss her,” Y/N replied, adding in another message, “Haven’t spent nights away from her yet.”

“Three days will pass before you know it”

It seemed like he was also telling this to himself. But as a warning.

“She will be too busy stealing Woolfie’s treats anyways,” he added.

He had grown very fond of that kitten. Mischievous, but adorable. Maybe the fondness stems from being involved in her rescue endeavour. 

Y/N does not know it was him yet. That is a rabbit hole he refuses to go down now.

A laugh react to the second message.

“That is true. And I think she is more fond of Sammy than me, anyways. So she should be fine.”

“I am sure that is not true. But yes, she will be alright!” he added an arm emoji and replied.

Two more dings.

“Hopefully”

“See you tomorrow. Goodnight! :)”

“See you! Goodnight :)”

Ding. Heart react.

Yoongi let out an audible breath.

Yeah. He has to grow a spine and speak. Tomorrow. At the earliest chance he can get.

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 11

Find the series masterlist

Ace continues to get into trouble. Flirting happens.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, mention of injury, Price needs his own warning label, little bit of kidnapping.

Word count: 1.5k

Landing in Finland didn’t actually help the raging anxiety much. You let Laswell and Captain know to stand down, no further issues, and you’d update them soon. 

And then you booked a hotel room and took a very long, very hot shower. 

Your phone was ringing by the time you got out, and you grumbled to yourself. Captain. “Yes?”

“What’s your status?” 

“Secure,” you said after a moment, frowning just a little. That was a new tone from him. 

“And your delay?”

“A non-issue. Just a little miscommunication is all.” 

Captain was silent for a few moments. “Send me coordinates for the drop point.” And then he hung up.

You stared at your phone. Was he… upset? With you? For what? You hadn’t done anything wrong. 

But you did send him coordinates and a time. Tomorrow. Because there was no way you were going anywhere else tonight. 

Some gentle prodding at your side showed you were still healing well. You’d probably have a scar from this, but better a scar than to be dead. 

But you managed to sleep, at least. Which was honestly a relief. 

You made it to the drop point early. As always. You settled on a bench, pretending to read a book and people-watch. 

Even though you were expecting him, you still startled a little when a body dropped down next to you.

“Status?” Captain asked, voice low, a thread of concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, only a little snippy. “Here.” You held out the USB to him.

But he didn’t take it right away, frowning at you, gaze sweeping over you in a clear visual check. “What happened?” 

You blinked at him. “Does it matter? I’m here, I’m fine, I’ve got stuff for you.”

He took the USB but his fingers closed over your hand, trapping the drive between you. “What happened?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. Your heart was beating far too fast for the situation. “Nothing really happened,” you said weakly, confused. “Captain… what are you worried about?” A sudden thought had your heart clenching in pain. “Thought you gave up on the accusations?”

“That’s not what this is about.” His frown deepened and he shifted closer to you, the line of his jaw tense. “You went silent for hours and rerouted your flight without explanation.” 

You floundered, just a little. Because that? That was not an accusation. That was something worse. Concern. “I–Captain, I’m fine. Nothing happened. It was just…” You trailed off. You could lie, could come up with something convincing. Something that he wouldn’t be able to verify. Because your clients were none of his concern. 

Except that this client might also be a lead into the ultranationalist group, and that seemed like the kind of information Captain might need to know. If you really wanted to try this whole playing nice thing. 

So you breathed out slowly, bringing your free hand up to rub your eyes. You were tired. Moreso than you should be, really. You blamed the situation. 

“It was a potential new client,” you answered, not looking at him, fingers still pressed into your eyes until stars burst against the dark of your eyelids. “Knew me from Sergio, but didn’t have my contact information. Either didn’t ask Sergio or didn’t want him to know. I’ll find out which.” Another slow breath in. “Normally I would not be telling you this, because my business is not yours, but. He paid me with a check that rerouted to a shell company, one of the ones that I noted.” You shrugged a little, finally lowering your hand, though you still refused to look at him. “I was going to get more solid information first, but you rather forced my hand.” 

Captain was silent for several moments, keeping your hand captured. Then he sighed. “Ace.” 

You glanced at him almost without meaning to, gauging his reaction. But his expression was carefully neutral. 

“I’d prefer if you keep me in the loop on this one. Even if you don’t have solid intel.” He held your gaze easily, blue holding steady but no less intense. 

“Understood.” You managed to crack a smile. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

He scoffed softly but finally released your hand, keeping the USB. “Password?” 

“Reliant.” You smirked a little, still not quite normal but getting there. 

He grunted once in acknowledgement. “Get some food, you look bloody awful.”

The laugh felt punched out of you, almost painful. “Flatterer,” you said without any malice. “You offering?” 

He was silent and still next to you for just long enough that your heart tripped into high gear. Then he chuckled. “Maybe next time, Ace.” 

It was a surprisingly gentle let down, and you left it at that. You stood first and turned away.

Only to stop when a hand wrapped around your wrist. 

“Thank you.” 

You turned slowly to look at Captain, the two words far too sincere to ignore. You honestly had no idea what to do, just staring at him for a moment, before you nodded once. 

You were quick to leave as soon as he released you, heart pounding, head reeling. 

This… had not been the plan. This had not even been anywhere near the plan. 

But he wasn’t wrong. You needed food. And sleep. You could figure out the rest after that. 

Good food was easy to find in Finland, and your hotel was comfortable. You took the rest of the day to get your head on straight and rest up. And also to put out a few emails to some contacts, because you wanted White to give you more information. You doubted he’d be a good source, but maybe you could put a few things together. Maybe it would help. 

Or maybe you’d finally get in too deep and end up where you always suspected you would - an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. 

Grimacing at the macabre turn of your own thoughts, you shook yourself and turned on the news for background noise. 

Captain was becoming a distraction. And that was a problem. One you wouldn’t abide. You had too much going on to have him distracting you. 

How to get Laswell to agree, though, was another problem entirely. One that you decided to sleep on. 

Honestly, you meant to talk to Laswell. You did. But you got sidetracked with getting contact information to three of your contacts, and their information to White. Then you had a call from Valeria where you had to dance around an invitation. Then there was the call from a contact of yours who had gotten himself into trouble and asked you for help back out of it… You got busy. 

You were going to deal with him. Eventually. 

Just… Not right now. 

The first text check in was easy to brush off. He’d just asked for status. You just said “busy”. 

That got you two more days of denial and research. Tracking down shell corporations and tracing payments took time.

The second check in was harder to ignore.

Need an ETA.

You grimaced down at your phone, then at your laptop. You had information you could give him, sure, but not as much as you wanted. You had nothing new on White, no new major movements. In your eyes, it wasn’t worth the time to arrange a drop for this. 

Few more days. Chasing down some leads. 

That was… close enough. And gave you enough time to do more digging, put some pressure on some people. 

At least, that was the plan.

That plan very much went to shit when you went out to get some food. You’d gotten half a dozen steps outside your hotel when two men fell in step with you, one on each side. 

“Stay quiet and no one gets hurt,” one of them murmured, low and threatening. You could just see the flash of a pistol under his jacket, pointed at you. 

“May I ask where we’re going?” But you made sure to keep your voice quiet and pleasant. You really didn’t want to get shot again. Laswell would never let you live it down. 

“You can ask.” There was no humor in his voice, but he didn’t make any threatening moves, either. “This way.” He turned down a street, and you followed. He walked a few more blocks to a black van and pulled open the back door. You went in without prompting, shoulders tense. 

This was very much not good. 

The other one pulled a bag over your head, and you sat still and compliant. You had absolutely no desire to get thrown around over this. You needed your head clear to get out of whatever mess this was.

[nkirukaj]

The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (16)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activity

Genre: Angst/Fluff SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 6.9K

<Chapter 15

16. So Fucking Beautiful

Voe turned the corner and was immediately ambushed with a rough kiss on her lips. When she looks up she sees that it’s Alastor, and she can taste the mint on his breath, making it clear that he heeded her instructions. When he pulls away from her he looks down smug but also waiting for approval. She flashes a satisfied smile.

“Better!” 

He nods “I should think so, I even used that scrubber nonsense you gave me.”

“I can tell! Thank you,” she says with fluttering lashes 

“Also, my dear?”

“Hmm?”

“Do not ever threaten to withhold anything from me again,”

She looks smug “Or what?”

He leans into her face “I will not be a happy demon,”

“You’re going to have to prove that to me before I believe you,”

“You’ll learn to stop testing me one day,”

“Sure I will,”

He lowers his eyes “Regardless, I have a favor to ask you,”

“Hmm?”

“In regards to our…excursions,”

“What?”

“I need you to do something for me,”

She laughs in frustration “Alastor, what?”

He looks around to make sure that they are alone, then lowers his voice “I would like to see your…equipment,”

She laughs once more “Alastor, with all your little euphemisms for sex and sex-related things, I’m genuinely surprised and proud that I can ever understand you,”

A light blush dusts over his chin “Keep your voice down!” 

“There’s no one here, and besides no one has ears like us, they would not know what we’re talking about,”

He looks behind her, the blush climbing a little higher “I’d like to examine your…” he bends down to her ear and lowers his pitch and volume “Genitalia,” when he stands back up, he looks as though he spat out something disgusting.

“Ha! Like a doctor?”

“No!”

She snickers at his discomfort “Lol I know. Why though?”

He hesitates “I am grateful for your assistance regarding our deal, however, I would like to be able to actually take control, and I cannot do that if I don’t know my way around your body.”

“Oooh,” Voe shimmies flirtatiously “You want to take control? Just like a man,” she shakes her head jokingly

“Yes well, I am one.”

“Yes don’t remind me,”

Alastor widens his eyes “Is that a yes or a no, my dear?”

Voe taps her chin “You’ve never seen a vagina before?”

His tone turns cocky “Of course there have been offers, but I turned them all down,” he glances at his nails “If you’ll allow me, I’d love to get a visual.” he smiles like a gentleman as if he wasn’t talking about something taboo “I’d like to learn the…” he smirks "Ins and outs”

She rolls her eyes at his joke “Come on,” she says pulling him by his coat.

Voe brings him to her room and Alastor smooths out his coat after she lets him go. 

“You’re going to have to take it off anyway,”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to wrinkle it,” Alastor huffs, removing the coat

She lays down on her back in front of him 

“Go wash your hands, Mister,” she leans back on her elbows, kicking up one of her legs

When he returns, her pants are off and her legs are crossed as she’s smirking. “You gonna sniff me some more?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks back, rolling up his sleeves

He removes his tie and monocle, puts her legs up, and slides off her panties, giving her butt a firm slap. She giggles with shock and wide eyes, while Alastor grabs hold of her ankles and spreads them open. He pulls her legs apart, just to see how far they can go. 

“Ow,” she purrs staring up at him

He pushes her legs further, pleasured by her pain, a grin overtaking his face. 

“Ahh!” She moans in pain “They’re wide enough! You can fit!” She giggles

He lets her ankles loose and climbs on top of her for a few kisses

“Keep your legs open,” he growls as he slides his tongue in her mouth. His pants rubbed against her bare folds, slightly wetting them. He presses her legs open a bit further.

“Ahhh!” He shushes her moans of pained pleasure with his lips before standing upright once more. “What was that?”

“Oh nothing, simply warming you up.” He smirks

He looks down at her open slit, fascinated by the sight before him. Her outer lips were a light brown and inside was a very light pink. At the top where her inner lips met, there was a small bud, pink in color, that immediately drew his interest. She props herself back up onto her elbows to see what he’s up to. When Alastor notices her staring, he takes one of his large hands and presses on her chest, to lay her back down, she hits the mattress with an ‘Oof’, which makes him chuckle.

He reaches for and places his thumb on the tip of the bud, pressing it like a button. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed with a moan

Alastor raised his eyebrow and pressed it again. 

“Mmmff… I see you found my clit,” she said, lifting her head up with sexy eyes

“Ohhh, this is the fabled ‘clitoris’” Alastor says “I always knew it was real,” he kneels down

“Wha- Ahhh! Ohhh mmmmmfffuuuuuck,” she throws her head back as Alastor begins to rub it in circles with his thumb. He hums with delight at her pleasure and increases intensity.

“Alastor…fuck I’m gonna-“ her body twitches involuntarily  

“I know. Cum for me,” he smirks as he rubs faster. When she cums, his full attention is on her face. His eyes then move down to her slit as it twitches and spasms, leaking with her slick. 

Alastor wiggles his fingers in the air before running one down her wet folds, making her shiver. Once her cunt opens again, he slowly slides his digit inside the leaking hole. 

Voe whimpers, his claws adding just the right amount of pain as he carefully slips another finger in.

“Vera, tell me how this feels,” he curves one finger inside her

Voe contains herself to answer “It feels good, mmmm”

“Good,” he pushes his fingers deeper “And this?”

“That feels good too,”

“Wonderful,” he curves both fingers, leaning down with his chin on her stomach. He starts pumping his fingers inside her, making a loud wet clapping noise against her skin. “You like this as well?”

She bites her lip nodding, driven wild by not only the feeling but the sound. 

Alastor climbs on top, kissing her up until he lands on her neck. He continues pumping his fingers, the clapping getting louder and louder. 

Voe stifles some whimpers, instinctively going to wrap her legs around him

“Keep them open Belle,” he whispers into her neck as he kisses and licks her skin, his palm slapping into her clit. His long, slender fingers massage her insides in just the right ways. She pulls his head into her neck. He sucks aggressively on her skin, leaving a bright red mark as she cums all over his fingers, leaking onto the bed. The liquid from her cunt coats his hand as he removes his fingers, dripping onto the floor. Alastor raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks them, making full eye contact with Voe as he does it.

“Ohh, tasty” he speaks seductively, placing his fingers in front of Voe for her to taste as well. She sucks on them while watching his eyes dilate.

He slinks off of her and back down to her cunt, feeling the heat on his face, he takes a good look admiring all that is in front of him.

“Tasty indeed,” he says before slithering his long, thick tongue up and inside her cunt. She was instantly hit with a feeling of fullness only rivaled by his cock. She squirms as his tongue explores her insides, so much so that he has to hold her hips to keep her still. Despite being held down, Voe still can’t help but thrust her hips up, grinding into him, to which Alastor responds by pulling her body down and closer to the point where her cunt is on his face, his tongue going that much deeper inside her. He bends her legs over his shoulders as he eats her out, the sweetness of her cunt, so appealing to him. She was so soft and so wet under him. Her moans, pants, whispers, squeaks, whines, and whimpers were all music to his ears. At this point, he couldn’t care less about who may or may not find out about them, all that mattered was her pleasure and the fact that he was the one giving it to her. 

Alastor was on his knees with his face between her legs for what felt like nowhere near enough time, but was in reality, at least an hour. Not stopping even after she’s cum once or twice. It’s as he’s massaging her clit with his tongue still inside her that he feels her twitch and jerk violently and her body goes limp, after releasing into his mouth once more.

“A-Alastor please, I-I can’t, I can’t keep going. I can’t even feel my legs anymore,” She says in something between a whine and a giggle.

He licks up her sensitive slit and clit one last time before joining her on the bed, leaning against his arm

“Spoilsport,” he says and she pushes him weakly, as she is barely able to sit up. He cackles.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He does the things I tell him to do

?

Like, if I ask him to do something, he just does it

without a fight

maybe a little pushback, but he always does it

🫢🤯

this is gold! 

excellent work ❤️💋

“Have you ever thought about putting your hair up?”

“Up?”

“Like in a ponytail? Maybe show off your undercut?”

“Oh no, do not be ridiculous,”

She huffs, crossing her arms “I’m not! I’m being serious! I think it would look nice!”

“Vera, I’m trying to be taken seriously,”

Voe throws her hands up “A ponytail would not make people take you less seriously! You know, if it looks good,”

He bends his hand at the wrist “Psh,”

“Why did you get the undercut if you don’t want people to see it,”

“Because I like it,”

“If you really like it, then show it off!”

“I am very comfortable with how I look Vera, that’s the end of it.”

Voe crosses her arms and looks away from him with a turned-up lip “That’s the end of it,” she mocks him “Excuse me for trying to get you to do something cool!” She drops her arms “Unless…you’re too scared,” she glances at him in her peripheral, gauging his reaction.

Alastor glares at her, smile still glued to his face. It’s clear he knows what she’s doing, but it’s also clear that he’s going to fall for it anyway.

“Is the Radio Demon scared to have a ponytail? If that of all things scares you, then maybe demons shouldn’t fear you. Can’t be that strong if simply changing up his look scares him shitless.”

His posture is calm, but his eyes rage on “I accept many things from you Vera,” he lowers the pitch of his voice “I advise that you do not question my strength again,”

“Are you gonna hurt me? Kill me? Eat me?” she leans forward on the bed

Alastor stretches his grin wider in response.

“Look, just let me see how it looks on you and then you can take it down, okay?”

He looks away from her, stretching the limit of what counts as a smile. 

“Hey?”

Alastor stole glances but kept his face turned away because he knew that the moment his eyes met hers-

“Okay, can you sit on the floor?”

“Absolutely not!”

She pouts “But I don’t want to stand! besides, even if I did, I probably still wouldn’t reach the top of your head,”

And just like that he was on the floor. Voe giggled like she was giving a makeover to a doll. Alastor sat in between her legs with his arms crossed and a pouty smile. 

She gathers his hair and combs it with her fingers, rubbing her hands over his newly exposed skin. He shivers with contentment. She pulls the hair up and fastens it with a hair tie.

“Okay, go look at it,” she tells him

It takes him a bit of time to get his long body to stand up in the smaller space, he approaches the mirror and examines the look. The ponytail helps reveal more of his face, his chin and jawline are more visible, and it helps his ears stand out a bit more.

“I suppose it does flatter me,” he turns his face around in the mirror “Although it would take a tragedy to make me look unappealing,” he smirks at himself

Voe rolls his eyes “So you admit that I was right?”

“I admit nothing. Now remove it so I can get on with my afterlife.”

She huffs once again, tapping the edge of the bed “Well, come back and sit!”

He rolls his eyes so hard that to Voe it looks like his pupils are actually gone before he obliges and sits back down. When Voe reaches for his hair once more, she notices the sweat rolling down his scalp.

“Someone’s sweaty. Bet you wouldn’t be if you didn’t wear that damn coat all the time,” she removes the ponytail from his head and runs her fingers through his hair once more, this time from the root. Once she feels the hair at the root, she comes across something peculiar. He was sweating on his scalp and where the sweat met his roots, she felt, not straight strands, but something fluffier. She pulled his hair apart and lo and behold, at his roots, the hair was not straight, but spiraled, like her own. She thought about this, staring at his scalp before he shuffled and turned around.

“What are you doing back there?” He asked playfully but dropped his tone when he saw her confused face. “What is it?”

“Your hair is curly at the root,”

Alastor turns away and stands, making as much distance between them as he can in the room. “No, I believe you were seeing things, my dear.”

“But I didn’t just see it. I felt it. It’s curly, like mine. Have you been straightening your hair?”

He doesn’t look at her still “I have no idea what you are referring to,”

She lowers her eyes “Alastor,”

He remains silent with his back to her.

“Are you Black?”

The question once again caused a stir inside him “I do believe I already answered that question,”

Voe purses her lips “Yeah, but you lied.”

“How dare you accuse me-?!”

“Save it, Bambi, you lied. Tell me the truth. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He stands, taking deep breaths before he finally responds. “Yes. By my mother.”

“Oh. Is your father not Black?”

He grits his teeth “No…”

“Oh okay. See? Why was that so hard?”

His claws are digging into the desk, feeling something bubbling up in his stomach up past his chest and out of his mouth “Why would you make me admit that?!” The raising of his voice was not something that Voe expected at all, so she did flinch, but within seconds she was stable once again.

“Admit what?”

“That…I’m-“ his face was mismatched, though he still had his signature grin, his eyes were pained

“That you’re what Alastor?”

He lowers his head “Mixed race,”

Voe is visibly confused “What’s wrong with that?”

Alastor still refuses to look at her, refuses to let her see the tears that he is fighting and losing to.

“Alastor, what is wrong with that?”

Her question is met with silence, and a poorly concealed sob. It was small but distinguishable.

“Alastor?” Voe was deeply confused by how this conversation had turned sullen

“I believe I am done with this conversation,” Alastor’s voice drips with softened anger he turns and begins stalking toward the door

“Alastor.” Her voice is stern and hard, dropping a few octaves.

Alastor whips around so fast that he creates his own wind, his cane hitting the floor with a deafening BOOM!

“DO YOU EVER Ş̸̡͈͔̬̤̪͍̭͕̤͈̖̪͔͐̾̊͒T̵̡̨̨̡̧͙̝̮̹͎̖̗͙͇̬̠̭̞̤͙́̽̈́͊̓̽̈́̈̓̅̒͒̔͜͝͠͝ͅO̸̢̞̹͚͖̩̬̹̦͖̙̮̥̰͍̘̤̍̐͊̔̄̐̒͝ͅP̵̛͈̪̯͍͇̫̖̠̠͎͍͒͂̈́̅͐͗͜͝ͅ?!!” he bellows, his voice distorting at the end. His form changes, growing with his eyes turning black and his antler size increasing exponentially “Í̴̫͉̮̫̟̜̱̲͈̺̈́͑̎̓͝Ţ̵̧̭̖̖̣̝̟̗̣̈́̉͒̚'̶̧̛̝̪̍̉̿͛̃̿̚S̴͉͉̲̦̺͔̲̏̓͑̇͆̊̈́̈́̕͜ ̸͉͔̈́̔̌̊̆̓̈̕̕ͅŅ̴̛̪̼̭̣̪̯͔̀̈́̑̈́͆̎́́̓͝Ǫ̵̺̼̻̟͉̥̰͕̣̹̓̏̈͌̾̑͐̍̑̾͗͋͋T̴̮͑̃͒̌̾̑̋̇̓͝͠ ̷̛͈͊̾͋̍̀͠R̵̢̢̩͉͖̬̗̬͑̽ͅI̷̬̾G̸̨̧̪͈̩̯͖̱̥̙̠̑̑̑̏̌̒͝͠H̷̢͇͕̜̙̣̭̺̩͚̐͗̋̈́͆̄͛̏͌̂͜Ţ̸̢̯̪̲͉͍̱̄́̄.̸̛͙̱̯̳̩̘͍̇̀͜ ̴͎̪͇̩̯̳͔̟̔͛͆̆͆͑̌͆̔̊Ỉ̷̢̝̺̯͓̮͈͆̔̚ͅT̸̢̨̰͓̣̜̱͍͔̤͍̤͊̒̑̏̃͒͜ͅ'̴̞͙̥̩̝̘̭̠̟̯͆̍͛Ş̷̥̯͈͈̭̺̠̳̭̏͋̈́̐ͅ ̵̡̣̭̾͂̔̅̾̌̎̇́̚Ã̴̧̡̟͖͈̺̺̟̙̰̉̊̾̐̄̋̀̆̍͝N̶̛͓̼̳̬̎̐̅͒́͂̂̈́̕͝͠͝ ̸̨̛̗̙̝̒̓̅̽̈́͌̉͑͌̆̀̈́̕ͅĄ̴͎̹̩͈̣̙͍̟̖͉̻̾̿̽͂̿̈́̑͌̌̽̌́̿̏B̸̳̖͂Ȍ̵̗̣̱̫̺̪̥̩͌̽̉́̔͒̐̀͐̚͝͝ͅM̸̧̤̮̼̫̔̎̇͛̒́͜͝͠Ǐ̵̛̫̩͇̩͕̬͙͙̱̜̻̳̑̈́̎̎̓͆͆̓̋͒̃̿ͅŅ̷̳̭̰̣͈̙̜̣͚̫̬̩̣̓͆͐̌̈́̒̌̎͝Ȧ̴̢̖̺̋̓̍͝͝͝T̶̡̜̙̺̦̖̮̝̬̰̙̪̦̿͒̀̈̈́͊̊̋̈́̑̿͜I̵̢̢̢͎̦͇̣̪͓̠̦̰̱̊O̴͔͎͙̰̫̜̼̘̯̍͗̀̑̏̿͆N̴̢̗̺͔͇̞̰͇͛͑͆̚̕!̸̨̰̬̼̞͖̬̹̮̤̪̳̲̑̈́͛̍͋̅͜!̵͕̟̱̝̽͗̂̽̐̑̃͆!̶̨̨̯̭̲̩͉̳̻́”

Voe reels in offense, she opens her mouth in protest but is stopped when Alastor speaks again.

“I AM AN ABOMINATION!!”

Voe closes her mouth, unable to immediately process what she just heard. He shrinks back to his original form and places his hands and cane behind his back.

He shakes his head, his signature smile plastered and fixed on his face. It looked unnatural this time like the smile was glued over his real expression “I apologize, my dear, I forgot myself.” his eye twitched as she could see the watering of them both.

Her first instinct was to yell back, get in his face, and demand respect. How dare he yell at her? She opened her mouth once more, but instead of speaking, she took the time to listen. Listen to his labored breathing and the subtle sniffling. Alastor was doing his best to remain in control, but his body was trembling before her as he brought his hands in front of him and stared down at them. Voe often found it difficult to lead with empathy, but when she intentionally applied it, she could finally get the big picture. Alastor was from the 1930s, Voe was born in the 90s. She could never even begin to fathom the world that he grew up in. She would have never predicted the Radio Demon saying something like that about himself.

I am an abomination.

Those words were heavy, he had been carrying this in his heart for about a century, no one to tell him any different. She looked at the man in front of her. He was intelligent, powerful, and confident, and deep down he was walking around ashamed of his Blackness. So much so that it made him feel like an abomination? No, empathy was not her strongest skill, but it seemed now was a good time to practice it. 

Voe sits on the bed and opens her arms to him.

“Come,” she says. He looks up from his hands confusion spread on his face. “Come here,” she calls to him “Alastor, come here now.” he cautiously steps over to her and collapses into her arms. His lower body is on the ground, with his arms and head leaning on her. They both slide down onto the floor with shaky breaths, her breathing into his hair, and him breathing into her chest.

“They don’t matter. Those people who made you feel like less than, those systems that tell us we don’t deserve to exist, they don’t matter. You-you matter. You are important. Your Blackness is beautiful. You are beautiful. So beautiful.” She lifts his head to look at her. “You are so beautiful.” She starts kissing his face all over. His forehead, his nose, his eyelids, his chin. “You are and always were beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” She presses her lips to his, then holds him to her chest, kissing his hair and his ears, caressing them softly and kindly, while humming a familiar tune, until his shaky breath becomes healthy and vulnerable purrs, his tail slapping the floor rhythmically. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“We’ve all seen ‘curly Voe’, let’s introduce the world to ’straight Voe’”

“Ha, there’s no ’straight’ version of me,”

“I meant the hair,”

“I-I know, it was a joke,”

Velvette wanted her to try a new look for the upcoming runway show, so she suggested a straight ‘do perhaps. Well, it wasn’t really a suggestion, more like told her what changes she planned on making. Today the hairstylist was here to straighten Voe’s hair, and surprisingly the doe was a bit nervous. What if the hair looked gross on her? What if the stylist burned her and she had to get it cut off? She couldn’t go without her hair. Plus, she kind of felt bad about getting her hair straightened after the conversation she’d had with Alastor about how their Blackness was beautiful, now it felt like she erasing some of hers.

“What’s on your mind love?” Velvette asked, taking Voe by surprise

“Huh?”

“You know I can see your face right? What are you thinking about?”

She waves her off, getting slightly burned on the ear “Ow!”

“What? Are you not paying attention?! Burn her again, and I’ll be burning you! Oh and if you repeat anything you hear us say,” she gets up in the demon’s face “Consider your soul obliterated. Anyway, tell me love?”

“Oh, it’s not really important,” 

“Oh nonsense, spill” Velvette pulls up a chair, sitting on it backward

Voe’s eyes dart around, unsure of whether or not to tell her “Wel, it’s not really my business to tell,”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s about Alastor,”

“Ooooh, more gossip. Well, you have to tell me now!”

Voe looks around the room, even though she knows that no one else is there. She lowers her voice “Well, yesterday I convinced Alastor to let me put his hair in a ponytail,”

“Okay…?”

“And then it spun into him having a bit of a crisis about being half Black,”

“Oh!” the Overlord is stunned “That’s new,”

“He called himself an abomination! I had to hold him while he cried in my arms!” 

Velvette snickered “He cried?”

“Girl yes! I felt so bad for him,”

“Hmm, anything else?”

Voe blinked, unsure of what to make of this question. She had been sharing something emotional, but as soon as it was no longer just simple gossip, Velvette pushed past and moved on “I guess not,”

“Alright then, let’s finish getting you ready then!”

The doe grimaced. She didn’t really know how to feel.

When she returned to the Hotel, she subconsciously tried to hide her hair from the others, she was known for her curls and wasn’t exactly sure how to react. When she saw Alastor in the distance, a wave of guilt immediately hit her, for the hair and for telling Velvette about what they had discussed. He looked well though, better and somewhat emotionally stable. However with Alastor, what you see is not necessarily what you get.

She finds herself wandering over to the tall demon, catching his attention by clearing her throat instead of tapping him as she would normally try to.

“Hello,” she said, holding one of her arms, feeling and looking sheepish.

“Hello,” his voice is back to his cheery radio personality “How are you, my dear?”

“I’m okay…I actually came to ask you that,”

“Why I’m just fine,”

She leans in towards him and lowers her voice “But how are you, really?”

Alastor sighs “You don’t have to worry about me, darling. I assure you that I am fine.”

Voe’s lips turn up into a small smile “Good, great. Just, I’m here if you’re ever…you know not.”

His eyebrows raise, taking in her uncertain appearance “Are you alright, my Belle?”

She brushes him off “Oh yeah, I’m good! I’m good.”

“How is your job? Working for the Vees must be quite a thrill!”

Her heart skips a beat when he mentions the Vees, she scans his face for any sign that he may know what is going on between her and them, but if he did, it didn’t show.

“It’s something..”

Alastor’s eyes scan her appearance once more, stopping on her hair. He seemed just now to be noticing that it was straight, he reached up and ran his fingers through it, his claws passing straight through.

“What? Are you going to tell me I look awful?” she asked, sounding playfully defensive

His chest vibrates as he purrs “No, because that would be a lie! I don’t think it’s possible for you to look awful my Belle.” He runs his fingers through her hair “Though I will say I do miss your curls, there was something quite…regal about them. But it is as you wish,” he continues to stare with a simple closed-lip smile on his face

“Hey Voe, can I talk to you?” Charlie called her from over by the fireplace

She gives Alastor a look and approaches Charlie, genuinely curious about what the Princess needs from her “Yeah, what’s up?”

“You know that I think you’re great and so do so many others, including my dad…”

Voe gives her the side eye “Mhmm?”

“So…yeah the thing between you and my dad…what is it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she states plainly

“You guys have just been really close lately so I was just wondering..”

Voe’s eyes stare up at the Princess “Would you like me to be completely honest with you?”

“Yess…” Charlie slowly rolls her eyes over

“I am having sex with your dad,”

Charlie’s cheeks turn even more red than they are usually “Oh! Um, okay. Glad to know that!” She can’t look Vow in the eye now

“Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know because you’re spending a lot of time with Alastor now, I just don’t want my dad to get his heart broken again. That makes sense, right?”

“Of course! I would never dream of breaking his heart, he’s such a sweet guy! Does he think that it’s more than what it is…?”

“Oh I don’t know, I just think he might be unsure of where he stands…”

“Did he tell you that?

“No…..”

Voe nods “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Charlie exhales as if she had been holding it in for a while “Okay thanks, bye!!!” She runs away as if she could not wait to get this conversation over with. 

Meanwhile, Alastor stood by, not so subtly eavesdropping. She was still rolling in the sack with Lucifer? After all they had done together? Was he not enough for her? Was he not good enough for her? He watched as she headed upstairs, assuming to her room, and he stood in place., not wanting to seem desperate for her approval or validation. He could do anything that pigeon could do for her, and he could do it better.

Angel Dust waltzed in and plopped down on the couch “Where’s Voe?” he asked

“I think she just went upstairs why?” Charlie responded

“Dammit! I was gonna press her about these photos,”

Alastor takes a step forward “What photos?” he questions

Angel is startled at Alastor’s voice coming from behind him “Woah Smiles calm down, this is modern shit”

Alastor recoiled “Show me at once,”

Angel smirked and turned the phone screen towards the Radio Demon

On the screen was Velvette’s Sinstagram, peppered with pictures of fashion and selfies, food, and other frivolous things. Towards the top, however, there were many pictures of Voe, in different outfits, places, and poses. Once Angel clicked on the most recent post, he scrolled through tons of pictures, showing Velvette and Voe enjoying each other’s company. An unexplainable pit began to form in Alastor’s stomach. The way Velvette was touching her, on the wrist, the waist, the throat—all in public and online for everyone to see, no shame or secrecy. 

Scrolling to the last photo on the post solidified the pit, and sent it running up his chest. There Voe was with Velvette, their lips touching, pressed together in a flat kiss. 

“Maybe I was wrong about you two. Guess she’s shacking up with Velvette.”

But Alastor was no longer paying attention to the effeminate spider. His mind was racing and stewing. How could she? Knowing that she had been with him that way, it was completely rude and unacceptable for her to entertain other people in that sense. Those lips were not meant for others but for him and him alone. 

Alastor was so busy brewing inside his mind, that he hadn’t noticed the others staring at him in shock and confusion. 

“Uh, Al? You doing okay over there?” Charlie asked 

“Of course!” His radio persona was enough to hide his rage, once he came back to reality “I just realized I have something to take care of.” He spun on his heels and headed up the stairs “Do your best not to disturb me.” He tossed over his shoulder as his shadow carried him to his room. 

He paced around the space wildly, removing his coat and bowtie to combat the intense heat in his body. His thoughts were racing, his imagination filled with moments of Voe getting cozy with others. How could she, sit and comfort him in his time of need, and then turn around and share her body with someone else? He thought they had something. For hours Alastor paced and stood, thinking and thinking, until his brain was fit to burst, almost as much as his clothing. His arousal grew along with his anger, and his desire to please her to be the number one-scratch that the only one who got to see her, touch her, feel her this way. This was his right. He was a buck and she was a doe. It just made sense! Alastor snaps his fingers and his female counterpart appears, sitting in one of his armchairs. She didn’t even seem that phased at this point, somewhat expecting to be summoned by Alastor at any time.

“What you need hot stuff?” she asked the stag playfully, unfazed by his obvious fury. 

“So when you said working for the Vees was ‘something’, I didn’t think this was what you meant,”

She blinks “Pardon?”

“You and Velvette seem quite close,” 

“She’s a boss who likes to get intimate with her employees I suppose,”

“Mhmm, and you’re just fine with that?”

She shrugs “Why would I not be?”

“No reason, I suppose” his teeth clenched “Do you like her?”

Voe folds her hands on her lap “I like her very much actually,”

“Hmm, I see,” He narrows his eyes at how calm she is, certain that she’s playing with his emotions and trying to get him riled up. She stares back at him, waiting for him to say more. “So you and Velvette are…a thing?”

“No,” she answers simply

“So you’re just her favorite toy right now?”

She raises her eyebrows “Excuse me?”

“Her favorite toy. The one they like to play with. The Vees always have one.’

She scoots forward in the chair “What are you getting at exactly?”

“Oh nothing,” his pants grow tighter as sweat trickles down his forehead “Velvette might have ulterior motives.”

“I could as well,”

“And what are you using Velvette for?”

She rolls her eyes “Fame of course,”

He scoffs “You’re not using anybody. She’s giving you fame because you’re giving her something she wants.”

“Why does this matter to you all of a sudden?”

“I just wanted to know,”

“Why?”

“I guess I just want to make sure you’re being…careful,”

Voe laughs heartily “You summoned me to your room to make sure I’m being ‘careful’?” she wipes a tear from her eye “What is this really about Alastor?”

He leans over her “I don’t want you making any mistakes by trusting the Vees too much,”

“Why does it matter to you who I trust?”

“I suppose I care about you,”

She smirks “Tell me the truth Alastor,”

“I came across a picture of you and Velvette…” he hesitates “kissing. And did not know what to make of it.”

Voe’s face lights up with understanding “Ah! That, well..I can kiss who I like,” her tone is smug and sexy, angering him further, but she is unperturbed by this whatsoever “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“While that may be true, I’m telling you to be careful,”

“Why do I have to be careful, but you get to wreak all the havoc you like?”

“You may have been here for a few months, but you still know nothing. You think you’re in control but you’re not. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me Alastor,” she breathes sexily 

“I will, if you’re willing to listen. But we both know that you’re not. You’re more of a ‘find out on your own’ type”

“Stop beating around the bush baby, tell mama what you want,” 

He doesn’t respond, but the storm in his eyes, tells her all she needs to know.

“Wait, are you mad? Over a kiss?” Voe could barely hide her amusement “Then you’ll probably be pissed to know that I fucked her” 

An intense blush takes over his entire face “How vulgar,”

She sits forward excitedly “Is that it? Are you mad? Would you be mad knowing I still fuck Lucifer?” 

His anger bubbles as his cock jumps inside his pants. He was enraged at this point, not just knowing it but she was rubbing it in his face! She was playing with him, and his feelings, and Alastor was no toy.

She pokes his chest. “Hmm? Would that make you mad?”

He smacks her hand away “Stop that,”

She pokes him again “Or what?” he tries to grab her wrist, but she slips past him, poking him over and over.

Alastor starts transforming into his demon form, neck, antlers, and body growing, eyes black and drool dripping out of the side of his mouth. He reaches out to grab her, but she evades him once more.

She takes off into the swamp area of his room, running and running. Her heart racing with excitement and slight terror at what he may do when he catches her, but the fear was all part of the fun. The warm humid air had her scarlet curls sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck as the wind of her sprint whipped it back. She was zigzagging through the tall trees at breakneck and agile speed, running and running—something inside her saying to not stop running. 

But she did stop. She stopped at the sight of the standing fresh water. Leaning against a tree nearby, she took a breath and gazed into the water. Her reflection stared back at her and she dropped to her knees to take a closer look.  

What am I doing? She questioned herself. Running. Why am I running? To not be caught. What am I running from? I think…I’m running from Alastor. At least in a literal sense. Why did I say that? To get a rise from him? I’m not sure what I wanted to happen. What did I gain? Does making him angry bring me as much joy as I thought? I don’t even know why I do this anymore. 

Who am I?

Voe reaches for the water, leaning forward to come in contact with her reflection before the breaking of a branch has her ears twitching. After the branches, came the sound of trees cracking and toppling over, destruction coming closer and closer. She took off running once more, the smell of Alastor not too far behind the sound. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was slightly intoxicating, oddly enough despite being considered a predator for her entire life, she loved the heightened sense of anticipation and fear that comes with being the prey. She wasn’t sure if that made her crazy or even more dangerous. Or both. But she reveled in the idea of what he would do to her. She craved the roughness, the aggression, the pain, but she kept on running because she adored being chased. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that she understood others much more than she understood herself. Studying others was much easier. 

But she wanted to be caught. 

She wanted to see his face when he grabbed her. She wanted to feel his skin when he touched her. She wanted to see what he would do. 

So once escaping the trees and tasting the open air, her running slowed down, eventually coming to a stop. Her ears twitched at the sound of him knocking down trees in pursuit of her, and she turned around to see his approach. He exited the trees with so much force that the ground shook, and Voe wasn’t sure if the rest of the hotel could hear it. She stood her ground strongly, even as the ground shook more and more as he approached her still in his demon form, they were at a standstill. He glared down and she glared up.

“Do what you want to me!” She screamed up at him

“Gladly,” he growled, shoving her on the ground and ripping her clothes up the front, changing back to his normal form. Her bra and underwear were on full display to be ripped off as well. He stares at her naked form, immediately attacking her bare breasts. Sucking, licking, and flicking them relentlessly. 

“I’m sorry,” she moaned into the crook of his neck 

“Don’t be sorry now,” he spoke in between popping her nipple into his mouth “You weren’t sorry before, were you? Hmm? No, you weren’t sorry when you couldn’t wait to tell me that you shared your cunt with someone else. You couldn’t wait to tell me!” He hastily removes his shirt.

She let out a whimper as she breathed in his scent.

He lowered himself to her pussy, staring and breathing, she could feel him against her wetness. “Such a pretty cunt for such a pretty lady.” His eyes flit up to look at her, as she sits up to see what he’s doing. “And they’re both mine,” he said before shoving two of his clawed fingers inside her wet throbbing slit. She falls backward onto the grass at the pleasure from the curving of his fingers inside her tight walls.

She was content to lean back and just feel the disgustingly beautiful sensation of him fucking her into the grass, closing her eyes to focus on not just the feeling but the sound of wet squelching every time he pressed into her pussy. Alastor, however, had other plans for her. He grabs her chin and speaks sternly “Open your eyes.” He does not ask, this is an order. “Look at me while I ravage you.”

“Okay,” she smiled, content as ever

“Don’t get fucking cute.” He quickly unbuckles his pants, freeing his throbbing cock, lining it up at her entrance, then ramming it inside her. He gathers both of her wrists into one of his hands.

“I’m not.” she breathes out, full of bliss and pleasure “Can I touch you now?”

“No.” he returns to her nipples, red and sore, sucking the life out of one and twisting/pinching the other to his heart’s content. He removes his hand and lowers it down to her clit, rubbing slowly before gradually picking up the pace, and rubbing it as vigorously as he was thrusting. Faster and faster he went, ramming into her sweet spot each time, with more and more of her juices leaking out. Cumming once, twice, three times without stopping.

She puckers her lips wordlessly and he ignores her. “Kiss,” she pants out “can I have a kiss? Please?” She is drenched in his and her sweat staring up at him with such desire that she couldn’t even attempt her previous composure.

“I don’t know,” he said roughly “Can you?”

Despite her annoyance, she was in no position to put up a fight with him. Not this time. “May I have a kiss?”

An evil grin spreads across his face “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Their lips collide, his tongue invading her mouth, as she fights against his grip to wrap her arms around him, but he wouldn’t budge. “My doe,” he calls for her 

“Yes?” she can barely speak with the air being fucked out of her.

He speaks into her neck “Who gets to fuck this cunt?”

“You do.”

“And who else?”

“Nobody.” she squeezed her eyes shut “Alastor…I don’t think I can-”

“You can.” he rammed into her again “You can take it Belle, and you will.” he thrusts into her at the fastest possible pace his hips can go. Voe lets out a scream of pained pleasure, biting him in place of holding him; hard enough to pierce skin and drip blood. He lets out a scream of his own, finally letting go of her hands—which she promptly wraps around him, digging her nails into his back, deep enough to draw blood. But he doesn’t stop, her clenching walls only telling him to keep going, harder and faster. With her legs too sore to wrap around him she pulled him as tight and as close as possible, licking the sweat and blood from his neck and collarbone. She could feel her walls clenching, and his cock twitching inside her, feeling the brink of both of their orgasms. His head was buried inside her neck. As she feels her orgasm coming closer and closer, she calls out.

“Wait!” She pulls his head up by his hair so they’re facing each other. He didn’t seem as angry as before. “I wanna look at you,” she said, holding his head as he continued thrusting. “You’re so beautiful,” she says before cumming, a guttural moan leaving her mouth. She pushes his hair back, pressing her forehead into his, and closes her eyes; triggering his orgasm where he empties inside of her. Her juices coat his cock, while he paints her walls white. They ride out their orgasms and lay there together basking in each other’s heat. Alastor licks her entire body, just to get one more taste. She pulls him up by his arm.

“Kiss me.” and their mouths were intertwined again, tasting themselves on each other’s tongues.

Chapter 17>

[biceratops7]

Good omens leak talk under cut, literally just vivid descriptions, keep away unless you’ve seen it and it’s too late:

Ok I have literally been staring at that image periodically whenever I think about it for several days. Because I am normal and like things neurotypically. So here’s literally just a big list of observations no matter how minute. If you read this whole thing then the brain worms have made it to your prefrontal cortex.

Crowley has his glasses on (already explained my theory behind that)

Crowley is obviously the instigator but it’s unclear whether or not Azirphale is currently an active participant, or if he’s still processing. I’m leaning on still processing, but it’s hard to tell with the shadow on his brow obscuring his expression and not being able to see his hands

Speaking of that shadow, what the hell is up with the lighting in this scene?? It’s not bad except for making things in an already blurry still unclear, it’s just strange to have something softly back lit but also clearing having another additional light source else where. It’s an interesting choice because it can lead to inference of the circumstances here.

Second, related question: where the hell are they?? So let’s just take stock of everything BUT Azirphale and Crowley we see here. First of all it’s mostly in shadow, however there is a prominent light source behind Aziraphale, possibly close to him. The light we see on Crowley’s hair is likely from the doorway behind them.

Quick detour, the doorway is the brightest thing in the frame, creating a slight silhouette effect. Silhouettes are often used in film for moments that are a big deal but visually obvious. It shows weight through simplicity because you still know what’s happening and why it’s important with way less visual info than normal. We all IMMEDIATELY recognized what was happening and lost our shits even though it’s in shadow and currently obscured by giant text.

Ok so anyway this all leads me to believe they’re in a mostly dark room with one bright but not very far reaching light. I wanna say it’s almost fluorescent? Or an exposed lightbulb? It certainly doesn’t look warm like a lamp to me.

In addition I believe they’re inside a room to a larger building. The light coming from the door is almost certainly NOT day light. It’s purely white as if it’s a very well lit room or hall. There also is what I think looks like an exit sign near the top next to the doorway, or at least idk what else it could be. Because of that I don’t think this is anyone’s home or small shop.

I find this EXTREMELY interesting because the only prominent location we really see fit that vibe or description is the office building of heaven and hell. This season seems to be particularly highlighting that “neutral ground” between then, with the elevator showing up three times.

Now this one is just me trying to interpret literal blobs, but there either appears to be some sort of rounded extension to the top of the door way, or the walls are just thick. Make of that what you will

the room appears relatively spacious but mostly bare, almost like a holding place. But obviously with such a tight frame this can be hard to tell. I did take note of the fact that you can see some brown lines behind Aziraphale in the first frame, so there is clearly something there.

Alright enough waxing poetry about the damn walls, I know that they're probably standing up. Crowley might be in a position where he can twist into it from a sitting position, but with Aziraphale' shoulders so far forward and his back entirely angled to face Crowley, he'd either have to be straddling a chair or his lower spine is snapping like a glowstick.

Aziraphale is not being pushed against anything, he’s rocking backwards despite the force being applied to pull him forward, so in other words our boy Crowley’s REALLY shooting his shot, lmao

Aziraphale’s arms are confusing. They’re clearly not holding onto Crowley even out of frame, but they also don’t seem fully relaxed at his sides to me either.

WAIT, ok so the standing is still a strong contender, but they could also be sitting across from eachother at a small table. Crowley seems hunched over a bit more than is warranted for Aziraphale’s height, and Aziraphale’s arms could propped up at the elbows supporting his weight.

So damnit this adds a whole new layer to the location question

[no-shxme]

did a talsett req (YAYAYYAYAYY thanks for requesting talsett omg) as a warmup but it turned out pretty long afdkldsfj

prompt was talon introducing sett to katarina but i did kinda twist it into it's own thing, also set in a modern au. thank you for the insp!

In hindsight it’ll be funny, but for Talon that might take a couple years. Sett will laugh about it by next week, because he’s unbothered, but stuff that’s easy for him is hard for Talon. Like being the center of attention or reaching the top shelf where all the biggest bowls are. Talon’s sleeping when Katarina comes, or he’s trying to. He’s laying in bed when she shows up, half-awake and thinking about nothing but the sound of the frying pan from the kitchen. Talon had barely slept last night, and even now he’s close but not close enough. The room is too bright and everything is fuzzy, so he doesn’t pay much attention to anything except when Sett calls, “Hey—Tal—”

His tone is funny, Talon can’t tell exactly what it is. He sits up and scrubs the crust from his eyes.

Sett will describe, later, how he’d been cooking when she’d let herself into the apartment. She hadn’t knocked or rung the bell, since she has her own key. Sett’s ears barely had time to swivel before she was standing in the entryway, staring at him in his boxers.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Talon’s thought about how he’d introduce Sett, but not seriously. Maybe Sett could just be his little secret that no one else has to know about. He’s not ashamed of him, Talon’s just bad at sharing. But none of his scenarios had involved Katarina suddenly finding out on her own, so when they’re all standing in the kitchen he has no idea what to say or what to do. Sett turns off the stove and waits there awkwardly with his pan.

“Talon—” Katarina says, and points at Sett. “Who’s this?”

Talon swallows thickly. His mouth is dry. “That’s Sett,” he says.

“Hey,” Sett offers carefully, waving the spatula. “Heard about you.”

“Talon—I’m—” Katarina seems genuinely flustered. She stomps over and grabs his wrist. “Let’s have a chat.”

She drags him back to the bedroom and shuts the door and Talon watches her survey the room in dismay, noticing how there’s two phones on the nightstand, and a few extra pairs of shoes scattered on the floor. Katarina’s smart, she turns around.

“Talon. What?” 

The question isn’t specific enough so Talon says nothing.

“Are you dating him?” Katarina asks.

Talon nods. Kind of.

Kat makes an unidentifiable noise. “How long have you been dating? You never told me?”

“Almost a year,” says Talon.

“I’m gonna strangle you,” Kat says. “Talon he’s—” she raises her hand far up above Talon’s head, as if measuring his height. “How?”

Talon frowns. “What.”

“Tal.” She spins in a circle. “Garen and I, we’re like, a match.”

He stares at her.

“Like visually,” she says. “It’s—I’m not calling you ugly, Tal, but—he’s—”

Talon looks down at his feet. He wishes she’d never shown up. He’s too tired for this. “But he wants me.”

“Is he rich? Are you sure he doesn’t want your money?” Kat hisses, exasperatedly.

He pushes her away. “Stop.”

“Talon, I’m worried about you.” She sighs, exasperated. 

“You don’t even know him,” Talon snaps.

“Oh I wonder why!” Kat throws her hands up. “I decide to visit my little brother and find a complete stranger in his underwear.” 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Talon snaps, out of spite. “Why are you here?”

“It’s your adoption day tomorrow, remember?” 

Talon blinks at her. He’d completely forgotten. “Oh,” he mutters.

“Everythin’ okay?” Sett asks, on the other side of the door. 

No, Talon thinks. My sister doesn’t trust my judgment. She doesn’t understand all the care Sett’s taught him, or the ringer that Talon put him through just to let Sett keep him.

“I wanna put on a shirt,” Sett adds, and Talon can picture the way his ears must be folded back.

He wrenches open the door and steps past Sett into the hall. Katarina stares at him, and Talon knows she must be comparing them, trying to fit them together like a puzzle, even though they never matched up to begin with. Sett and him are not typical. They don’t fit the same way others do.

“Listen bucko.” Katarina pokes Sett in the middle of his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is, but if you mess with him—” 

Sett is flat against the wall, looking down at her. “Uh-huh,” he says, and his gaze flickers to Talon’s and back.

“I’ll fucking gut you,” she threatens. “You’ll wish you were never born.”

“Uh—” Sett starts. “You sure you’re not related by blood?”

She pokes him one more time for emphasis and stalks past Talon down the hall. “Be ready tomorrow, Tal. You’ve got so much explaining to do.”

Sett’s ears twitch back when the front door slams.

After another minute Talon shuffles over to lean his forehead against Sett’s chest, and Sett pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“You slept yet?” he asks.

“No,” Talon mumbles. Sett cups his cheek and kind warmth bleeds from his palm. 

“Go lay down,” he reassures. “I’ll be there after I clean up.”

Talon gladly obeys. He curls back up under the blankets, letting his brain go fuzzy again. Maybe Kat’s just mad that Sett is taller than Garen. He’ll ask tomorrow. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have to.

[six-earedshadowmonkey]

Warning: Pain Incoming

You all are going to hate me for this pic, but it was burning in my brain and I needed to get it out. This is a picture and a ficlet depicting Macaque’s death. Posting under a break because of gore. If you don't want to see blood, look away. You have been warned. (Click Keep Reading to see the complete image.)

Eternity

The fight had been long and hard. Monkey King was exhausted. He and this imposter had battled across three realms in their determination to prove their identity. Of course, they both knew who was the REAL Sun Wukong, but who this stranger impersonating him was, even he had no clue.

None born of Heaven nor Earth could tell them apart, and the resident kings of the underworld dared not speak the imposter's name.

The Great Sage was sick of these games by the time they reached the home of Buddha. He was tired, angry - no, FURIOUS! He wanted answers and he wanted them now! And he knew of only one other person who could give them to him!

Still - Standing before Buddha with his visual double, nothing could have prepared him for the name spoken when his opponent's identity was revealed.

The Six-Eared Macaque.

The same Macaque who had been his friend and confidant. The same Macaque who had fought alongside him in the Brotherhood. And yes, the same Macaque who had left him to the Jade Emperor's mercy when they failed to fell him, only to later rub salt in the wound by offering him a goddamned PEACH! As if that somehow made up for five hundred years of imprisonment! Too little, too late.

And after all that, here was that same. Fucking. Macaque. Harming his family, stealing their things and daring to do it all while PRETENDING TO BE HIM!!!

It was too much. Seeing those golden eyes staring back at him when the glamour was dropped was just too much. And something snapped in Wukong.

Macaque knew he was in for it. He'd never quite seen a look like that on his King’s face before. Maybe he had gone too far this time. He had only wanted Wukong to see that his 'Great Companions' weren't so great after all. He had wanted to save him from the pain, both physical and emotional, that those bastards were putting him through.

He didn’t know where the power came from - righteous indignation, maybe? - but before Macaque could blink, the Monkey King's staff had struck him with a force unlike any he'd ever had the bad fortune to be on the receiving end of.

The impact crushed his right eye and split his brow, but he barely even registered these things. How could he when he was flying like some over-powered missle through, not one - Not two. Not three, or four, or five - but SIX mountains! If that fifth one had been the last, he just might have lived to tell the tale. However, that final impact was just too much.

Colliding with the hard stone hard enough to shatter it, he slid to the ground and lay still. His vision was so blurry, he might as well have lost both eyes, but he knew it was Wukong he felt land beside him a moment later. He'd know that scent anywhere. He wasn't surprised at all that the other celestial monkey had come to gloat. What did surprise him, though, was the smell of salt mixing with his usual pungent odor.

Macaque couldn’t see Wukong’s tears, but he knew they were there. He didn’t hear his choked words as the Sage whispered, "No... Shit. I didn’t mean to...", but he felt it when he was lifted into his arms. As he drew his last breath, he let it go with a soft smile and a sigh of relief. His Peaches was holding him at last.

Rapid little twitches, like electric pulses - death throes Wukong knew - were all the movement left in Macaque’s otherwise still form, but the Monkey King still desperately pleaded, "Hey... Macaque! C'mon, Bud... Look at me!"

In that moment, he made the mistake of glancing at Macaque’s eyes, and felt a flood of revulsion overcome him at the sight. The right one was like a bloody crushed grape, the left bruised and swollen so only a thin slit of it could be seen. "What have I done..?" he lamented, voice shaking as it sunk in that Macaque was truly gone. "We were supposed to live together forever... We were supposed to eat... peaches... every day... forever." Wukong doubled over, holding his former lover tight to his chest, and let himself sob.

All that effort to make himself immortal, and now he'd have to live for eternity without the one person he wanted to spend it with.

[lowlylux]

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint)

Chapter Sixteen | Count the Scars

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 3.1k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

ao3 link

Scaramouche doesn’t quite know what really happened.  He has never quite experienced such a feat of being physically transported from another realm.  Yet, here he stands, a tyrant staring back at him.  It should never have been possible, a singular being should have never been able to transport someone between realms.

But angelic power should have never been able to mix with demonic, yet here he is, standing face to face with the person who made the impossible possible.

“If you wanted to visit me, you could have just asked.”

Scaramouche blinks at the statement before deciding to go along with it.  What is the worst that could happen?  “I didn’t know how to start.”

“Tartaglia would have done it for you,” Barnabas says with a smile, her eyes twinkling in amusement.  “We keep in touch, he would have done it.”

“He hasn’t been in the demonic realm for a while.”

“Unfortunately,” she mutters as if genuinely upset with such a fact.  “But if asked, I’m sure he would pay me a visit.  He owes me that much.”

“Childe doesn’t owe you anything,” Scaramouche says without thinking, immediately widening his eyes at what just came out of his mouth.  “I’m so sorry.”

She waves her hand, as if attempting to calm his nerves.  “Don’t worry about it.”  She pauses, as if thinking.  “You’re right anyways.”

“What?”

“I saved his life but that does not mean he should be forever indebted to me.” She says simply, readjusting herself on her throne.  “If he wants to spend the next fifty years with that human, well that is his choice.  In the end he will come back to where he belongs.”  She does not sound happy with that though.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

“Thank you Scaramouche,” she says with a smile, her head tilting to the side.  “Now how have you been?  The last time I saw you…well you were a cherub.”

Scaramouche ponders on what to say.  On one hand, he could interrogate her.  On the other hand, he could convince her to not go through with her plan.  But both options seem out of reach as she continues to smile at him as if he has fallen into a trap.

“...why don’t I remember you?”

The Tsaritsa frowns at such a statement, as if she expected it but hated such a thing at the same time.  “Celestia has the means of…storing away one’s memories so they are unable to be recalled.  At the time, it feels obvious, but as years go by, you barely notice unless something from those memories reappears.”

“They sealed my memories?”

“You’ve seen my past, you can guess why.”

“So it’s true? I could just…ascend?”

The Tsaritsa laughs, finally standing up, making her way to Scaramouche, slowly, but surely.  “With all that Celestia has developed in order to stop such a thing?  I highly doubt it.  Perhaps when I first fell, but now you have an equal chance compared to all other angels.”

Scaramouche lets out a shaky breath, the reality crashing down.  “So they had no reason to hate me?”

“Sometimes there is not a reason for hatred.  It festers amongst those who harbor it for far too long without an outlet.  When they find someone who is able to take the blame, well, you become the face of it.”

She puts a hand on Scaramouche’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.  “You have been through so much, little one, and for that I pity you.  But I need to know, why were you snooping in my past?”

“I wanted answers.”

It’s not a lie, even if it is stretching the truth a tad.  But he really does not want to think of what this woman will do once the truth is revealed.  Because even if she is being nice now, she is still the demon threatening his home.  She is still someone who has killed people.  Even if she is someone from his past, it does not mean she is the same person from before.

“Answers to what?  Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Why everything happened the way it did.  How you became…” Scaramouche trails off, truly not knowing how to word what he is trying to say.  It’s mostly bullshit…and he has never been an amazing liar.

“Is that all?” The Tsaritsa asks, grinning as she grabs his other shoulder, forcing him to look at her.  “I could show you that right now!”

The world turns white, the only thing constant being the grip on his shoulders.  Scaramouche closes his eyes, the light bothering him far worse than even Celestia’s.

“It was quite simple really,” she says, pushing his shoulder so that he will open his eyes.  When he does, he is greeted by a familiar scene.  Barnabas sits in the mortal realm, looking in much more disarray than when he left her.

He watches silently as the scene continues.  It is only when a familiar demon, Pierro, appears, that he realizes that there is no sound.  

“Pierro offered me freedom…” The Tsaritsa says softly.  “I was still struggling over being abandoned by my people…the offer of a new family was almost impossible to resist.”

“That’s a decently far jump...angel to demon.”

“Pierro and I had met before…he was interested in my skill set.  I of course denied him at the time, but I would be insane not to think his offer held some merit at the time.”

Barnabas reaches for Pierro’s hand hesitantly, allowing the demon to help her to her feet.  Her wings are in disarray.

“He had killed the previous lord.  Yet, he did not want to take over.  He insisted that I was perfect for the job.”

“But weren’t you afraid that he was tricking you?  Wouldn’t it be easy for him to use you?”

“It’s why I killed him a few hundred years ago.”

Scaramouche flinches at her tone, not expecting the sudden switch.  She seems to notice, her mask slipping back on flawlessly.  “He was a threat to my family.  I was merely protecting everyone, you understand, don’t you?  After all, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it…Scaramouche?”

He is thrown back into reality abruptly, his blood running cold as he stares up at the Tsaritsa.  She stares down, eyes practically glowing as she waits.  She waits for a realization that Scaramouche doesn’t even expect until it all comes crashing down.

He never told her his new name.

“You knew what I was doing from the very beginning…”

“I’m not an idiot,” she says coldly, turning her back to him.  He has to stop a gasp when he sees her back.  Bones stick out, jagged and unsightly, the last remaining proof of her angelic nature, sawed away.  “I owed my harbinger a favor.”

“I’m not actually here…am I?”

She clicks her tongue, smiling as she turns around to see him.  “Always quick witted.  Tell me, is it possible to transport someone between realms?”

“Yes…but…”

“It requires a ritual.  Something I could never dream of doing,” she says, kneeling down to his level, meeting him on the floor.  “But consciousness is a different story.  Consider it a gift from me.”

“Where is my body?”

“With Dottore and Pantalone,” she smiles, no longer full of any warmth.  But as Scaramouche sits there, reality sinking in, he wonders if it ever was.  Was she such an amazing actress that she tricked him, or did he trick himself into delusion?  “They needed you, and I really did not want to wait any longer.”

“Why…”

“This is the best way to get to the angelic realm,” she says as if it is the most simple thing in the world.  But she sees his face, looking in his eyes for a moment.  She puts a hand to his cheek, frowning when he flinches away.  “You should have ignored the signs, stayed with the divine.  You would have had a chance.  I’m truly sorry for how you’re leaving this world.”

And for the first time in the conversation, she is telling the truth.

●•·•●

“Hurry it up.”

“I already told you thank magic takes time,” Kaeya hisses out, his hair pulled out of his face as he works on the spell, Albedo right there with him.

“Well tell it to hurry the fuck up,” Kazuha responds, pacing around.  “You fucking promised that nothing would happen!”

“How was I supposed to know it was a trap?”

“We should never have done it!  You never should have suggested it!”

“Hey,” Diluc responds, his eyes narrowing at Kazuha’s words.  “Scaramouche wanted the truth.  That much isn’t our fault.  No matter what, he would have sought after the truth.  We merely gave him a way.”

“Well I’m sure he’s happy to know the truth now that he’s been kidnapped.”

“I’m working on the transport spell, Kaeya and Albedo are working on the locator spell.  We will find him, and we will stop Dottore before the unimaginable can happen, alright,” Diluc says softly, attempting to reach out for Kazuha, but the blond scoffs and steps aside.

“Can’t Childe transport us?”

Childe, who has stayed silent throughout this entire conversation finally reacts, his eyes widening as he immediately shakes his head.  “If they find out I-”

Diluc steps in front of the ginger immediately, cutting the demon off.  “Childe isn’t going to get in the middle of this, am I clear?  You put him in danger and we both walk, right now.”

“You’d rather kill Scaramouche than make your demon uncomfortable?”

“Scaramouche is your boyfriend, not mine,” Diluc says calmly with a straight face.  “At this point it would be better to brainstorm how we stop a glorified apocalypse, not a rescue operation for an angel who we don’t even know found a way to put an end to this.”

“We need to save him.”

“And we will,” Diluc hisses out, stepping towards Kazuha in anger.  Kazuha wonders what would have happened if he would have continued to press the obvious buttons.  Would Diluc have punched him?  Would he have walked out and left Scaramouche for dead?  Kazuha supposes he will never know, mostly due to Childe standing up and grabbing the man’s hand.  Diluc sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before looking Kazuha in the eyes.  “Look, I understand the concern.  But unless you give us the time we need, we cannot do anything.  Am I clear?”

Kazuha continues to stare at Diluc, hoping for anything, a small crack in his demeanor that he can exploit.  But there is nothing…at least nothing he can see.  “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

And Diluc just…goes back to what he was doing as if that entire confrontation did not happen.  Well, going back to it is strong wording.  Whatever spell he is casting doesn’t require him to stay near it constantly…or, Diluc just doesn’t need to be near it at all.  Kazuha doesn’t quite understand it.  He doesn’t understand how Kaeya requires Albedo for every spell, but Diluc is perfectly fine without Childe.  He doesn’t understand why Kaeya has to get his hands directly on it, making contact while mixing in magical energy, yet Diluc makes it seem like it is as simple as breathing.

Maybe after all of this he should ask Ningguang about how all this works.  Maybe every witch is different, or maybe one of the two brothers is an exception to the rule.  His eyes widen at the thought, remembering a crucial detail.

He has never told Ningguang and Beidou about what is going on.  

He glances at the group, ensuring the status of saving Scaramouche is still in progress before stepping out of the room, his phone in his hands before he can even think.  The device rings a few times before a voice comes from the other end of it, immediately calming him.

“Kazuha?  Are you okay?” Ningguang asks.  He hears rustling on the other end, pointing at the very likely fact that Beidou is in the room.

“Ningguang…I need you to get Beidou out of the room.”

“I can’t act as your therapist Kazuha, goes against too many rules.”

“Then act like a mother, please Ningguang.  I don’t want to tell Beidou.” Kazuha pleads into the phone, nervously glancing toward the group working tirelessly to stop the end of the world.  “I can’t tell her.”

He hears muffled talking on the other end before it’s gone, only silence remaining as Kazuha waits.  “What happened?”

“I don’t really understand it all,” Kazuha mutters, attempting to breathe but failing drastically.  “There’s a witch trying to summon the demon…queen?  I think?  And we tried to get Scaramouche to look through some…memory pool?  But he’s gone.  They told me he’d be safe but he’s not and I don’t know what to do.  I don’t understand what is happening and am currently sitting outside a dingy bar that my angel boyfriend told me is some meeting place for creatures I barely knew existed a year ago.”

“Kazuha…honey, you need to breathe.”

“I can’t,” Kazuha cries out, ducking his head when a few heads from inside the bar turn to look at him.  “I can’t.” He hates when he gets like this.  He’s supposed to be the calm one, the one who is able to act with a level head.  But he can’t do that when he feels like he’s in the dark, every single person closer to the light while he falls deeper in confusion.  

“Kazuha, thank you for telling me about this.  Are you with that witch friend of Scaramouche’s?  The redhead?  He will know what to do.”

“He’s here…yeah, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think he will do everything to save Scara…”

“I’m so sorry,” Ningguang says through the phone, and suddenly Kazuha wishes the woman was right here, embracing her so that he can finally breathe again.  She always knew how to keep him from spiraling.  “I can’t do anything to help him…at least I won’t have the time to.”

“I know.”

“Then why would-“

“Is there a way to protect the both of you?  Use your…mythical creature connections and get out of here before everything comes crashing down?”

There is silence on the other end for a moment, Kazuha even finds himself wondering if she hung up.  But he finds solace in knowing that she would never do such a thing.  “I can find us passage to the angelic realm…Kazuha, you could go with us.”

“I’m not leaving Scaramouche.”

“What about Heizou?”

“If they are willing to let me and Heizou up there for safety’s sake, I doubt they would allow Scaramouche the same privilege.”

“So you’re staying?”

“Of course I’m staying,” Kazuha replies, finally getting himself back to being calm, something he was suspecting is becoming a far too reliable front to keep him sane.  “I’ll give Heizou the option.”

“That man would rather jump down into the demonic realm himself then leave either of you.” Ningguang says in a way that makes Kazuha snort.  He smiles, knowing that she is right.  “Stay safe, alright?  With all that’s going on…who’s to know when we will get to talk again.”

“You stay safe too, I’m sure convincing Beidou to run away won’t be easy.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Kazuha says, warning the woman.  “She may love you, but she will kill you all the same the moment she finds out.”

“Who’s to say I’ll lie?  Don’t doubt me.”  Ningguang says.  Kazuha will never admit it, but one of the things that drew him to Heizou initially was just how similar he was to Ningguang.  The type of person who knows how to deal with others without them even realizing.  He likes being read before he has to say a word.  Maybe that makes him pathetic, he will never know.  “Goodbye, Kazuha.  Tell Scaramouche I said hello when you see him next time.”

She hangs up before they can continue the conversation.

Kazuha rests his head on the wall of the building, trying to make sense of everything.  He knew Ningguang would calm him, she always does, but that does not make it any less uncanny.  

“I see she beat me to getting you back.”

He doesn’t even need to open his eyes to recognize the voice.  He doesn’t know who called Heizou, but he’s sure he does not want to see the expression on the man’s face.  He can only take so much pity in one afternoon.

“How are they doing in getting him back?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he still alive?”

“I don’t-“ Kazuha cuts himself off, taking a breath as he stares at Heizou.  “They can’t tell me…or won’t.  I’m not too sure.  Or maybe they’re trying and I’m too stupid to know what’s going on because I simply do not know half of what they’re saying.”

“Then neither of us will be any help,” Heizou mutters, kneeling toward him.  He offers the man a smile, which Kazuha gladly accepts.  “I’m not as smart as you think I am.”

“You’re a genius.”

“In human matters,” Heizou says carefully, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Kazuha’s face.  “But this world?  I’m pretty certain Scaramouche is smarter than both of us in those matters.”

Kazuha frowns, averting his gaze.  “And now he’s gone.  Heizou what if he’s…”

“I think he’s alive,” Heizou says carefully.  “Think about it.  They knew I was alive because the plan did not happened yet.  If Scaramouche is truly the last step in their plan, we would already be face to face with a demon.”

“So he’s alive?” Kazuha asks, his voice barely audible before collapsing into Heizou with a sigh.  “I feel so helpless in all of this.”

Heizou pets Kazuha’s hair, running his hand through the blond’s hair.  Kazuha feels his boyfriend take a deep breath, as if preparing himself.  “I may have a way to get him back.”

Kazuha moves away from Heizou, just so that he can look at him.  “What do you mean?”  Heizou hesitantly gestures to the side, allowing Kazuha to look, and when he does, he cannot help but wonder if his boyfriend has gone off the deep end.  “That's a fox, Heizou.”

But that…fox…if Kazuha can call it that seemingly transforms in front of his very eyes.  It looks grotesque, as if parts of both human and fox meld together in a flesh-clad monstrosity before going to a far more palatable appearance.

She has long pink hair, a tad bit messy from her transformation.  For any normal interaction, he would note the eyes first, a piercing purple, but the wings are what gain his attention.  A single set sits on her back, drooping as if to hide them.  She blinks, as if grounding herself before taking a breath.  “I’m here about Scaramouche.”

15<< >>17

masterlist

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction- part 3

Chapter 10

It’s a rather eerie evening and by that I mean I feel an unsettling presence nearby; then again, it could be my disturbing amount of anxiety that never leaves my body nowadays. With Fanden spying on us before, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re actually being watched. Our friends, except Astarion and Shadowheart, are visiting tonight to discuss the venture ahead of us tomorrow and the plan to get rid of this vile situation for good. The last thing I want is confrontation with Gortash. Each time I visualize his face, I clench my fists and feel my heart about to burst into flames from the hatred I feel toward him. I thought I hated him before, I thought he was just a tyrant. He’s my father, someone who could have changed, someone who had the opportunity to choose love over power… But that’s too much to ask of him. Secrets were kept from me my entire life, and I’m still upset with my mother for not telling me the truth ages ago. Right now is not the time to feel this rage and overthink it; we need to go into action and prepare for what’s ahead.

Astarion is at home with Shadowheart and their toddler. With him being immortal and not being directly involved with our scenario, it’s safe to say they’ll be alright. If either of them need us while we’re away, I told Tara to let them know where we are and what we’re doing, and that neither of them need to be directly involved.

“Okay, so the plan is that we get all the explosives – yeah, WHIZBANGS! – and blow up Moonrise? Isn’t this like, crazy illegal? Then again, what those fucks are doing is much worse and it’s best to put an end to it… Okay, I’m in,” Karlach chimes in enthusiastically as she cracks her knuckles as an attempt to be intimidating.

“It’s a shame it has to come down to such a devastating circumstance since it was once such a beautiful place. The place will forever be corrupted by the, uh…corrupted, it seems,” Halsin adds. He’s right. It’s tragic that such a once-lovely piece of architecture ended up corrupted, and will only hold the horrible memories and lost souls within it. How unfortunate.

“I couldn’t agree more. Now, either Emmy or myself will have Jenevelle, but will stand far away from the explosives. All of us will be invisible so we won’t get caught. Once we arrive, it shouldn’t take long at all. Go in, boom, out we go,” Gale explains with a hushed tone.

“I hope once those bastards are dead, they’re dead for good.” My voice is full of worry, though I’m relieved we’re getting this over with.

“No kidding! I’m sick of seeing Gortash’s stupid mug! No offense, Em. If it makes you feel any better, you look nothing like him.” Karlach always knows how to brighten someone’s day, that’s for sure. Gale sits down next to me on the sofa, wrapping his arm comfortably around my shoulders. If he’s nervous or anxious in any way, he’s doing a fantastic job at masking those feelings. Maybe it’s to keep me calm and collected.

“Baby, we’ll get through this like we always do. Jenevelle will be alright.” He’s right. Perhaps I’m second-guessing everything, or just letting my antsy mind get to me. I can feel my mind fogging, losing all recollection of previous thoughts from the past five minutes. An unexpected tingling sensation is causing me to feel drained.

“I wonder what he’s going to say to me. I know it won’t be an apology, that’s for sure.” Everyone in the room stares at me with puzzled expressions, as if I made no sense just now. “What?”

“Good thing you won’t find out, Emmy. We’re going to blast his ass before he’s aware we’re even there. Remember?” Wyll reminds me. What the hells. Am I losing sight of the plan now? Did I just have a huge moment of weakness where I completely lost track of what we’re doing? Get it together, Emmy.

“Right. Yes. I won’t have to say a damned word to him.”

“Say, when this is over with, can we go to the circus? I hear they hired a new clown, a professional this time. He has a background in stand-up comedy,” Karlach says excitedly, and I chuckle as I nod my head in agreement. She’s always so positive no matter the circumstances. Wyll rolls his eyes and kisses her cheek, admiring her goofy and authentic self. It seems she’s not the only one that wants to see clowns. Their alignment with one another is perfect, and I love to see it after all this time. From enemies to unconditional lovers.

After our friends leave for the night, I steep myself some chamomile tea to relax before going to bed. I hold my cup, inhaling the soothing scent of fresh herbs, and feeling the calmness greet me as the steam is absorbed through my nostrils. Gale stands next to me in the kitchen while in his night time robe.

“Hey, I love you,” he murmurs, smiling at me with that particular smile that made me fall in love with him. The way it lifts his cheekbones and the sincerity of love it shows me causes my heart to throb with intensity, and I never want the feeling to fade. I smile, trying to hide my face as I blush but he chuckles, taking my chin with his fingers and moving my face toward him. “Ah-ah, you know I love to watch you blush.” He did that to me on purpose!

“Grr. I love you too,” I finally respond, fighting laughter. “Thank you for putting my mind at ease.” As he places his hands on my waist, I place my tea on the counter and proceed to wrap my arms around his neck, which I can hardly reach.

“Allow me to hold you for a moment, please?” He gently kisses my forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment. I close my eyes as I feel the endless warmth of his lips upon my flesh, feeling him rock me as we stand here in the middle of the kitchen. “I know you’ve been feeling so tense and that it feels like we’ll never catch a break. We will, I promise.”

[convexicalcrow]

"How's he doing?"

"They say he's mostly free of skulk and he's in no pain. We just have to wait for him to wake up."

Scar didn't look at Bdubs, who had come up beside him. Instead he kept looking through the iron door into the room where Cub was sleeping.

"They say he's mostly free of skulk and taking healing potions. They say he's in no pain. We just have to wait for him to wake up."

"You need a break, Scar. You've been here too long," Bdubs said, resting a hand on his arm. "Come and eat. He won't wake by you staring at the door, you know."

Scar sighed. "I know, I know. I just-... I miss him the most when I'm not allowed to be near him. It's just an iron door. I could break it easily. But I know the priests and the Vex are telling me to stay away. There's too much danger if he's still infected. Doesn't mean I wouldn't be in there in a heartbeat if they'd let me though."

Bdubs took his arm. "Come on, Joe's made some nice stew. I'm sure some food will help, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Just come back, Cub. I miss you."

-

Cub... didn't dream, exactly. Dreaming felt like the wrong word. There was a lot of stuff going on in his head, but mostly he slept, unaware of the details of what was happening to him.

The last thing he remembered happening was... unclear. He remembered a labyrinth and a mad king, and something about empires, but none of these things made sense. The mad king looked like no one he recognised, and he kept seeing himself dying over and over in a dark narrow corridor made of stone bricks. Were there other kings? He thought there were other kings. Thirteen crowns kept sitting somewhere in his mind, but they had no names or faces, and just all looked like ornate decorative crowns.

A lot of what he saw seemed obscured by fog. He put this down to his memory lapses. His brain's way of showing him that he didn't remember things clearly, as if he needed a visual metaphor. (He didn't. But whatever.) The fog was usually a blueish grey, but sometimes it looked different, like yellow or green or a weird purplish magenta. He hadn't worked out if these colours had any particular associations.

The other thing he saw frequently were stars. But they were also the wrong colour, more blueish green or turquoise or aqua, and they didn't seem to pattern match to the night sky. Something about it seemed... familiar, but his brain just would not parse this imagery further, so it remained a mystery.

So he slept on, consumed by the darkness weaving a blanket around him, unaware of wings touching the back of his neck, or the eyes watching over him, concerned, but with swords sharp and ready, just in case.

-

A room in the mansion had been transformed into a mess hall by Joe since he'd arrived a few days ago. Scar hadn't really parsed how weird it looked to see them standing behind a kitchen counter, serving bowls of stew and other dishes to the priests and vindicators who lived here, who all seemed quite grateful for their service.

Scar let Bdubs get him some dinner. He felt lost without Cub. Being so far away from him hurt, and if his body hadn't been yelling at him to eat for the past hour, perhaps he'd have run back to him. But Bdubs was right. He needed food and rest. Cub would need him to be at his best once he woke up, and he was sure he would be told the moment he was back.

The Vex had been anxious since the initial purification rituals had been performed and Cub had fallen into some kind of magical coma. The priests didn't know exactly what he'd done to himself, but he'd clearly blasted himself with Vex magic for some unknown reason, and now he was lying there, unable to wake. It was the kind of magic that only Cub could undo. No one else knew what he'd cast on himself except that the skulk was now mostly gone from his system. Which was a good thing, right? Maybe.

-

"Come on, sit down, Scar. I got you some dinner!" Bdubs said as he came back with a tray bearing two bowls of stew and some bread.

Scar smiled. The food did smell delicious. "Hey, that's what I like to see. Thanks, Bdubs."

They found a table in the corner and Bdubs handed him his food before taking a seat beside him.

"Hey, look, we're all worried about him, okay? That's normal. But you'll be no good to him if you don't take care of yourself, yeah?" Bdubs said.

"Yeah, I know, I know. I just feel it in my heart. We share everything. I just want him back. And I want him to be okay. That's all I'm asking for," Scar said.

"Very reasonable requests in my opinion. But don't worry, Cub's a fighter. He'll come back, I just know it," Bdubs said.

"Yeah, yeah, he will. He knows what he's doing, right?" Scar said with a smile, allowing himself to feel a little more optimistic about the situation. Perhaps that would help Cub too.

-

Black water surrounded him. Was he in the water? Or above the water? Or simply surrounded by it? It was impossible to tell. It was the colour of squid ink, an impenetrable liquid through which he could see nothing.

It didn't feel... scary though? It felt strangely comforting. Like this was where he was safe, and whatever had happened to get him to this point could no longer reach him. That was a nice thought.

This had to be hivemind, though. Somewhere. He wasn't Cub anymore. Just his consciousness connected to the Other. Couldn't hear the Vex, but knew they were out there somewhere. Couldn't tell if they were protecting him, or isolating him. Wouldn't blame them for either to be honest.

He phased for a while, his energy shifting and oscillating in the water as if he was cleansing himself. Yes. That's what this was. He remembered now. He'd written about this. In a book somewhere. Somehow, his form had become corrupted, and this was a way he'd discovered to cleanse himself. He'd done it first after... when was it? Oh, he could see someone's face, but then it just became his own face. He could smell gunpowder. But the memories seemed lost to him. But there had definitely been a reason for it. So he could get back to being himself again.

That was reassuring. That's what was happening. He was cleansing himself of any foreign energy, things that weren't of himself, or of the Vex. Yes. Something had happened to cause this, and maybe he'd remember in time, but for now, he oscillated again, letting his energy dissolve into the water.

-

"Er, breaking news from Hermittopia, Scar!" Joe said as they ran over to them waiting outside Cub's room.

"Oh, what's happening?" Scar said. He wasn't expecting Joe to look quite so terrified, but their face was all white, and they were holding their communicator and gesturing in a Not Comforting way.

"Well, y'all know how Cub got skulkified, right? Well, there's someone else now, walking about spreading skulk! It's Pixlriffs! He's infected too now!" Joe said.

"Pix? No, how could he be infected? He didn't go to the fog, did he?" Bdubs said. "That's how Cub got infected."

"X said the last person we know talked to Pix before this happened was Cub, but that was days ago, right? And he's only now showing up like this? I wonder why that is?" Joe said.

"How do we know he's only just been affected? Maybe he's been hiding away since he spoke with Cub and only now making himself known? I wonder how it happened, though. Cub can't have done it, right?" Scar said.

"I dunno, maybe? Maybe he was trying to track down the remaining catalysts and got caught in the skulk! Maybe he wasn't wearing the hazmat suit I left in the museum! Maybe he didn't use the haunted pickaxe! I don't know! But it's clearly not just Cub, and it's spreading!" Joe said. "X said this seems... different now. He wants us back at Hermittopia to work this out."

"No. Absolutely not. I'm not going anywhere without Cub. So while he's still sleeping, I'm staying right here," Scar said.

"Me too. I'm not leaving Scar alone. He needs someone to keep him company. You go back and tell them what's happening," Bdubs said.

"I mean, okay, I can do that for you, but I can't do that Vex travel thing like y'all can, and I don't have enough spare elytra to get back overland or through the nether. We're just too far out! Anyone want to zap me back there again?" Joe said.

Scar looked at Bdubs. "You know, maybe they do deserve to be a Vex. They've been very good to us here, and they've always been a good friend to the Vex. Apart from that one time when they asked if they could cut our wings off to make new elytra! I haven't forgotten that, Joe!"

"Look, it was just a misunderstanding, okay? I don't want your Vex wings. Just. Help a guy out? I don't mind being a messenger, but I can't travel like y'all can," Joe said.

"I think this is a needs must, Scar. Joe's right, we're too far out for them to travel back normally. I'm sure we can take care of this together, right? We can turn him into a Vex?" Bdubs said.

Scar smiled. "Oh, we can definitely turn them into a Vex, and it would be useful for them to be in our fold, I think. Especially when we don't know how long we'll be here for."

"That's what I was thinking. Alright, Joe, come on, let's bring you into the embrace of the Vex," Bdubs said.

"Oh neat! Thanks guys!" Joe said.

[chauchaus]

Porco Galliard drabbles

---------------

he would always do the homework with you, maybe bringing along chips and two bottles of mineral water and set them on the table when he arrived at the dorm lounge, where you texted him you would be.

actually that wasn't even a lounge, just a community table in each floor of the building. in the summer semester the weather wasn't so kind and you could felt the heat creeping in your armpits and the back of your knees. He made an excuse to sit beside you but not the opposite anymore. the way he looks at you and you saw it too, in the corner of your eyes, then as if he was caught red handed, he looked away.

and you too, you act nonchalantly, stared right back into the screen where there was a 72- page long paper you were supposed to make a report on.

--------

why are you looking at me as if you wanted to kiss me so bad?

"why are you hesitant?"

"i'm just asking for it." you look at him, he whose pupils bloomed like watercolor. his cheeks got hot, his whole face actually, he changed from looking sunburnt to become the sun itself because how are you flushing too? you couldn't stand looking into his eyes for longer, for fear that he would be tired of you and look away. now he's biting his lips, biting back some risky words that would lead your relationship go so far it cannot go back.

"hey... are you done thinking?" you can tell how serious he is by the way sweat started to form on his nose. are you? his question turned into a rock that you trip over then sent you into a deep hole right in front of your face. is this real? it is indeed, so real you wanted to disappear right away because you have never been good with the important decisions. but your demons and angels are shaking you up from your sleep of denial and they were screaming "dammit answer him!" but can you?

he had always been looking at you

in the shadows, in the corner of your eyes,

his nose and yours are so close you couldn't slide a bill through that space. but he was slow and steady. he searched for that hint of confirmation in your eyes. but he can't see anything but the reflection of himself in it.

your lips crashed together, and it was the kind of moment that made you visualize waves meeting the shore. his lips dry as sand and yours glazed with the balmy moisturizer. you're sharing a kiss with him and maybe a bit lip balm too. his eyes half lidded and suddenly he looked up at you, and mind you, you were still kissing. aren't people supposed to close their eyes sharing a kiss? but damn, what for? you found out later that if you shut down other senses and let the mouth do what it does, you feel the moment better.

-------------------

i think of these as my "sketches". messy and unfinished. when it comes to my muse, i am greedy. so much things i want to do to him.

[desireandduty]

from DORRA: idk how to tell you this but.... there's been a break in from DORRA: already called the police. they're sending a couple of detectives over. just fyi when you get here and see police tape no one's died

From the back seat of her taxi, Padmé just stared at her iPhone screen. A break in? At this stage of the campaign, what could the motivation possibly be? She and Clovis were in a tight race for the Mayor of New York, and he might be cocksure, but he wasn't stupid enough to be unaware of how this would reflect on his campaign. Even if he wasn't the one who arranged for the break in, that was most certainly how the public would perceive it. Or was he really that stupid? It was fitting... the shades of Nixon and Watergate in the whole scenario.

to DORRA: wow. just... wow. Need me to stop by Cafecito's for some REAL coffee for us today?

She didn't really need to ask, she just asked the taxi driver to stop a couple of blocks earlier than the address she actually gave to him. She and Dorra have been best friends since they were freshmen at Columbia, both majoring in political science. When she'd decided a year ago to run for office, there had been no other choice except Dorra for her campaign manager.

And now, armed with two dark roast coffees and a bag of pan dulces, she approached the police tape around her campaign headquarters, eyes widening at the sight of shattered glass littering the sidewalk. She was recognizable enough that the policewoman on guard duty let her cross the tape line without even a word. Padmé smiled in gratitude, since both her hands were full and digging out her ID would have been difficult. Walking through the front room and towards her office, she saw Dorra standing in its doorway talking to two men who she presumed were the detectives she'd texted about.

"I've brought reinforcement," she said to her friend, lifting the bag of treats high and smiling encouragingly. Except the expression froze on her face for a fragment of a second when the men turned around to look at her. Honestly, both of them were attractive, but the younger of the two was unfairly so. She had never seen eyes so blue or so soulful in her entire life. He was tall and fit and his hair was just a glorious tangle of dark golden curls that she suddenly could visualize running her fingers through while they-

Nope. No way. She was stopping this train of thought before it could leave the station. Maybe she needed to give Tinder another try if she was actually so starved for male company that she was reacting this way to a literal stranger. Even if he was the most gorgeous man she had ever met in her life.

Swallowing hard, she recovered her composure and forced her gaze away from Mr. Sexy Detective to Dorra. She walked over to her desk and set down her things, then turned to greet both men with a business-like smile, holding out her hand to shake. "Padmé Naberrie. You're the detectives on the case I presume? What can you tell us so far?"

modern starter for @sithdestined

[potterandpromises]

sorry for not winning you an arcade ring: chapter 9

Things do not go as rehearsed. [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]

Also on AO3

(You know the deal by now: it's the same day as the last chapter but it's been several hours. We return to our heroes in the hallway outside of the restrooms of whatever venue this rehearsal is taking place in.)

"I'm just a tiny" —with a tense hand, Will signs 'tiny'— "bit worried about this wedding."

Theo nods in commiseration. The rehearsal's mostly been about who stands where when, and for him, establishing and memorizing visual cues. But it's also included things like designating a person (Lester) to call 911 in case of stabbings, shootings, poisonings, et cetera. Such things do not inspire confidence in the fake wedding investigative complex.

(If asked again, he'd agree in a heartbeat.)

Behind Will, Sazz Pataki saunters into the hallway, says something, and pauses next to the restrooms. "I'll tell you what— I've been the only thing standing between Charles and— injury. But— pressure, even for me—"

Theo rests his eyes, lets them wander down to Sazz' shoes.

His gaze snaps back to her lips. He feels, by reflex, a smile fix itself to his face.

She takes no notice.

Moments pass like eons. Eventually, her and Will quit their small talk, and she goes into the restroom.

Theo turns away, has to force himself not to break into a run.

-

"I'll be honest," Charles says into his phone, "I was kind of hoping it wouldn't get this far and that by this point, we'd already know who the killer is."

"Well we didn't get that lucky, did we Charles?" Oliver stands up and hastens to the front of the room.

He ushers Charles to sit down, and turns to address the table as if from a stage. "Even though I do run in the same circles as Linda Sharpton and Christopher W. H. Garnier, I simply haven't been able to spend the necessary time with all of our many, many suspects in order to deduce who our killer is."

Lucy yawns from behind her hands.

"At the rehearsal dinner for my son Will’s wedding, he let anyone and everyone take the proverbial microphone and make an impromptu speech. In the spirit of that gesture, anybody wanna come up here and take a stab at figuring out who the killer is? ‘Cause now’s the time where we’re supposed to fully explain our epic deduction skills live in front of the entire world."

Lucy lightly kicks Mabel under the table, whisper quotes: 'stab' with an exaggerated flare of her eyebrows.

But actually, at this point, it's as good an idea as any.

Howard stands up from his chair, resolute. "I have a theory."

He walks to the front of the room and proceeds to spout a theory so obviously based on a personal grudge that it provokes absolutely no reaction from anyone else in the room. He nods like he's made a point anyway, and steps away into the darkness.

(And they'd hoped this killer reveal party would look a little more professional then the last one.)

What if it doesn't work? Somehow, Mabel had never considered the idea. If they don't succeed tomorrow, her and Theo will be...not legally married, she's pretty sure they'd need to write their names on a certificate or something for that to be the case. But they wouldn't tell people it was all a hoex immediately, right? They'd need to solve the case first.

Or they'd just... never tell anyone, and fake a break up the way they're faking the relationship. That option should feel safer, more comfortable, but it doesn't.

Mabel sips her sparkling grape juice. This whole thing is starting to feel like objectively too much to ask.

Behind her, the door opens. She turns, sees Theo with a tense set frown. He walks briskly towards her, and trips.

He falls flat on his stomach.

Mabel stands. Simultaneously, Theo pulls himself onto his hands and knees, stares at their co-conspirators like a dear in headlights.

She helps him up. "You okay?"

He doesn't answer, doesn't let go of her hand, just looks past her at Sazz reentering the room.

She frowns, thinks 'concussion.' But, she's fairly certain he didn't hit his head.

He drops her hand, takes a step back, and scans the room, takes in the many pairs of eyes on him.

Jonathan clears his throat, resumes his conversation with Howard. "So, anyway..."

Theo puts on one of his fake, slightly awkward smiles, and looks down at Lucy still in her seat. His own seat had been on the other side of the table.

"I think—“

“Oh, yeah.” Lucy pulls her chair out. “I’ll leave you to it. Ursula brought some sort of new Gut Milk cookie, so I’ll just try one of those.”

She really hopes Lucy doesn’t think her and Theo are going to grope each other under the table. The evidence does not support that hope— Lucy was nowhere near as awkward with Theo when they first met.

Mabel sits down. With a nod of thanks, Theo takes Lucy's seat, and, oh, places his hand on her knee. Maybe...? No, she doesn’t think he would just do that. Then again, they don��t actually know each other that well. Or at least, they haven’t spent that much time together.

He removes his hand from her knee, gives her an extremely tight lipped smile, and signs something quickly, almost under the table.

Again, he rests his hand on her, a few inches higher this time, tentative.

At the front of the room, Sazz speaks. Something about protecting Charles with her life, something about knowing him all these years and believing he would never settle down for good because, wait, Sazz stole his girlfriend? twice? Mabel will have to ask about that later.

“Although he could never manage to keep a good woman, Charles has achieved something even better: living long enough to attend the wedding of a woman who’s like a daughter to him.” That’s actually sweat, if extremely backhanded. Mabel can’t quite focus on anything other then Theo’s hand on her thigh.

His fingers move, trace a pattern like a figure eight. Repeat.

Not a figure eight.

An S.

“I wrote that last minute,” Sazz says. “Was it a little hollow? It felt a little hollow to me. I’ll tighten it up.”

Without looking at him, Mabel places her hand over his, lets him know, hopefully, that she understands his intent.

His hand stills under hers. She pulls away.

A

Mabel stares forward, steadfast.

Z

Her breath hitches. No one notices.

Z

Sazz is walking away, heading for the alcoholic cookies. Mabel glances at Theo, urgent.

He doesn't look at her. His fingers drag quicker atop her dress skirt.

D-I-D —he taps the center of her thigh once— I-T.

Blankly, she looks around at too many faces, at eyes that still linger on them.

She gives Theo the slightest nod, and begins to plot.

[bnha-dumpster]

Hear me out

Step-brother Shigaraki shoving a vibe in (male) reader during a dinner and Shigaraki is controlling the vibrator and then after dinner Shigaraki fucks the life out of Reader

i was gonna work on monster stuff but this is just *chef's kiss* i think i'm going down the road of a pseudo-incest kink whoops and laughs at myself as i add plot for no reason (also gives you guys a visual reference of the toy in the fic)

pairing: step-brother shigaraki x male reader content tags/warnings: dub-con, pseudo-incest, mild exhibitionism, choking, sex toys, degradation, mind break word count: 2.1k

Things around the household have changed drastically since your mother remarried. You love your mother and want her to be happy, but you feel that things have changed far too fast and far too much.

You had been told that your step-father wanted you to move in with him for two reasons. One; you don't have a job since you're attending university full-time and two; his house is pretty close to your university. You've seen his house from the outside and you can't deny the thought of living in such a large house is pleasant. It's a good deal. But if you had been told that your step-father has a shut-in son that lives with him before moving in, you might've reconsidered it.

Shigaraki is rude and has zero social skills. While you don't actually mind people that don't have social skills- it's often times not their fault- there's something about your step-brother that just unnerves you. You see him and alarm bells go off in your mind.

He likes to catch you off guard. Coming into your room to watch you, pinning you to surfaces, groping you, watching you shower- there's something really wrong with him.

"Tomu-"

You're trying to walk downstairs to go eat dinner with your mother and step-father. Trying, being the keyword. Shigaraki has you pinned to the wall once again. One of his hands is able to completely hold both your wrists- he's not even that much bigger than you! He's using his free hand to tug your sweatpants down to your knees. The pinning isn't exactly new, but he's never actually pulled your clothes off.

"I bought something for you. It's a little present for having such a cute brother." His voice makes you shudder, but the item he holds up next to your face makes you tense up. It's a brand new, probably expensive, sex toy.

"Tomura- hey- let's not-" You squirm and shake your head.

"Don't cause a fuss. Just let me do this, 'kay?"

The lube on the toy is your only saving grace as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and tries to put it on you. It doesn't work very well, the lubed up toy sliding against your limp cock a few times before Shigaraki growls lowly.

"I'm taking my hand off and I expect you to stay still." True to his word, the hand on your wrists disappears. If this were the first time he tried to do something like this, then you might've run away. But you've unfortunately learned through experience that your step-brother is far stronger than he seems. It's only because of your knowledge do you stay.

His hand is cold and calloused, an uncomfortable feeling against your skin. You grimace as he grabs your cock to slip the ring over it, making sure it’s snug against the base before he pushes the vibrating part of the toy into you. It doesn’t actually seem that bad until he turns the toy on. 

“Shit-” You’re not oblivious to the toy’s function but you didn’t expect it to be so snug against that spot inside you. Shigaraki grabs you before your legs buckle, laughing at your state. 

“Wow, you’re that sensitive?” He’s taunting you, making fun of you. “Is my little brother just a slut in disguise?” 

Your pants are pulled up and a small slap is given to your ass. It brings a small yelp out of you, making you turn around to glare at him. He doesn’t seemed fazed by it. Instead, it spurs him on and you can feel him grind against your ass. Even through the fabric of both of your sweatpants, you can feel how hot and heavy his cock is. You can tell it’s thick and that’s barely hard. 

A sliver of arousal makes itself known with a twitch of your cock. The realization makes you stand up straight and shove your step-brother away, adjusting your clothes to hide the erection beginning to strain underneath your pants. 

It’s difficult to sit down at the dinner table and act normal. You give your mother a small smile as you squirm in your seat for a moment. The toy’s low vibration stimulating every part of you- the base of your cock being teased, vibrations going through your balls and taint, the dildo pressing snugly against your prostate- and it’s difficult to hold your composure. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Your mother is looking at you with concern.

“O-oh, I’m alright, mom.” You force another smile.

“Go lay down after dinner, okay?” 

You give a small nod before you start eating, not waiting for your step-brother to sit down. He’s probably snickering to himself and thinking of what he should do. The sudden increase of vibrations of the toy surprises you and you choke on a piece of food. 

“Honey?” 

“Don’t worry, he’s just a little out of it, right lil bro?” A large hand comes to rest on your shoulder. As you turn to look over your shoulder, Shigaraki stares down at you with a small smirk. You can see the small remote in his hand and you almost want to reach out and grab it. But that’d cause a scene- the last thing you want at the dinner table.

He slides into his seat, not bothering to eat. All he’s doing is staring at you and analyzing your reactions as he plays with the remote in his pocket. 

“Yeah, j-just a little bit out of it.” You try your best to keep yourself together. Eating your dinner as fast as possible is your goal, hoping that this torture is only for the sake of humiliating you in front of your mother. 

The vibrations of the toy change rapidly. It seems like Shigaraki’s just cycling through them for the first time, gauging your reactions as he does so. He’s trying to find the best setting for you right now, surely. The one that does you in is the low and slow pulsing of the toy. 

He’s learning so much about you. You’re smart enough not to fight him physically but still have the guts to snap at him with your words. You prefer to be teased with a lack of stimulation rather than overstimulation. You won’t tell your mother about anything he does so she’ll stay happy. The best part... You’re easy to read.

Now that it’s been a few minutes of dealing with the toy, you’re settling down. It’s still uncomfortable, the low stimulation keeping your cock hard, but you’re able to eat your dinner for the most part. You’re eating quicker than normal just so this can end. 

“Thanks for dinner, mom.” As you stand from the table, Shigaraki cycles through the toy quickly to put the vibrations at its most intense setting. You curl in on yourself and groan, facing contorting. 

“Dear?” 

You give her a reassuring smile despite the heat pooling in your stomach. As much as you want to leave the table, you’re not sure you can do it yourself. It seems to be part of your step-brother’s plan. He puts his arm under yours, holding you up to help you shuffle back upstairs.

“I’ll make sure he’s alright, don’t worry.” 

They can’t see it, but you’re glaring at him as he helps you up. With him being the only reason you’re still standing however, that’s all you can manage to do. You hold onto his torso as he takes you up the stairs and opens the door of your room. 

“You’re close, huh? You were about to cum in front of our parents, weren’t you?” Shigaraki throws you onto the floor of your room with a thud, using his foot to turn you onto your back. He stares down at you and steps on your cock, moving it back and forth. 

“Alright little bro, cum for me.” 

With a particularly large amount of pressure, almost painful, you tense and spurt ropes of cum inside your pants. A stain begins to seep into the fabric and Shigaraki looks down at you with a sneer. You’re squirming under his foot, the toy still vibrating aggressively inside you and around the base of your cock. 

He picks you up by the hair and drags you to your bed, manhandling you so your face is against the comforter and your ass is in the air. He doesn’t even bother turning the toy off as he takes it out of you and slides your cock out of the ring. Your ass clenches around the air pathetically, teasing Shigaraki. Even with something inside you, stretching you out, your ass still looks tight and almost untouched. The only thing eluding to its use is the lube smeared around it. 

You’re given no warning when your step-brother grabs your hips and slams his cock inside you. When did he take it out? You don’t know.

“Shiiiiiit- Do you know how tight you are?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Shigaraki begins to fuck you with abandon, thrusting into you with no care for your comfort. The stretch of his cock, how it reaches almost too deep inside you- it’s horribly uncomfortable. There’s a tinge of pleasure from the stretch of his cock pressing against your prostate almost constantly, but not much else. 

His balls slap against your ass with every heavy thrust and the grip on your hips is bruising. You can feel his nails digging into the skin and you’re sure they’ll leave marks. He’s leaving reminders of this.

A hand leaves your hip to hold your limp cock, pumping it aggressively. The sudden stimulation is painful and you squirm. 

“Now, now, little bro. Be a good slut for me and let me play with you.” Shigaraki sneers at the way you stop squirming at his words. “There... See, you’re a pathetic little slut for your big bro, aren’t you?” 

You refuse to answer, only burying your face into the sheets to hide your humiliated tears. It’s not like it matters. He continues to pump your cock at a fast pace, enjoying the way your walls twitch and tighten because of it. Even if you’re not feeling anything, he is. Your pleasure is more of an afterthought, a bonus. Then your cock begins to twitch back to life. 

“Seriously? You’re feeling good?” Shigaraki leans against you, biting your ear. “Getting off from your step bro treating you like a whore and fucking you? You really must be one if you like this.”

“I’m not!” You protest, turning to look at him. Tears are falling down your face, cheeks red from the embarrassment. “It’s your fault! You’re forcing my body to feel like this!”

Both of you know it’s a lie. You’re definitely enjoying it. As cute as your denial is to your step-brother, he isn’t in the mood for you being like this the whole time. He wants to have to shut you up so your parents won’t hear you begging for his cock. 

With a bit of reluctance, he pulls out of you. You’re allowed a brief moment of confusion as he decides how he wants to position you. Once he decides, he flips you onto your back and hikes your legs over his shoulders. In this position, he rubs your cocks together. His is undeniably thicker than yours, but your length isn’t too drastically different. There’s only a few seconds of rutting them together before he lines his cock up with your ass and slams back in.

Much to his surprise and amusement, you let out a confused moan. The new position must feel good. Your face contorting into pleasure with a mix of self-disgust is beautiful to him.

“Little bro, come on. Just let yourself feel good.” His thrusts slow and he reaches for your neck. The grip on your throat is intense and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded almost instantly. It’s an intense feeling that mixes with pleasure, clouding your senses. 

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen or just you giving up, but you begin to buck your hips against Shigaraki’s. Your jaw goes slack and your mouth is open, eyes rolling back into your head. The choking keeps you from making much noise so all you can let out are strangled groans. 

“Finally. Let yourself go. Become my whore, my pathetic cumdump of a little brother. Just be my personal cock sleeve, yeah?” 

The words go in one ear and out the other and you let out a string of agreements. Your back arches, cock twitching and covering your stomach in your own cum. It’s the sudden tightness around him that pushes Shigaraki over the edge. He stills inside you as deep as he can and cums, filling your ass. As he comes down from his high, he lets go of your throat. 

“Good boy.” He smacks your face gently and chuckles at your lack of response. “Gone already? Come on, we’ve barely started.”

[twilight-orchid]

How the Undatebales React After A Fight

Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy ​ who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!

tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.

Diavolo:

Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.

He’s not used to arguing. 

He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.

So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,

It was very overwhelming.

He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered. 

When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.

His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.

The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.

If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word. 

He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.

He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.

He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.

Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.

But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.

A real friend. 

He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.

MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.

And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.

He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.

As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.

He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.

He just feels lost. 

He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.

He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.

Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.

Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.

After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.  

Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.

If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls. 

He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.

This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.

Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.

If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost. 

He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.

He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.

He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.

He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do. 

Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology. 

He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.

You will have to approach him first. 

He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.

Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.

Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.

Barbatos:

Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.

He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.

You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.

He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.

Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.

He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.

If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.

His instinct is to use his future vision. 

To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.

However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you. 

You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.

Thus, he must find another way to cope.

He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life. 

He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.

Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler. 

He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task. 

Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.

Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.

In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity. 

Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.

And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.

But then it was time to wait for it to bake. 

He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.

His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.

He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.

No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.

He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.

He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.

His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.

He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.

Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this. 

He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.

He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond. 

“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”

If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders. 

He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.

When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile. 

He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.

Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.

Solomon: 

Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.

In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong. 

In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.

There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.

If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.

“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”

Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.

He didn’t mean to say that.

He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.

He’ll simply turn and leave. 

He’s absolutely furious with himself. 

Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.

Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.

Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.

In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish. 

His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.

Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you. 

He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.

For once, he feels like an idiot.

He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.

He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.

He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself. 

The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.

The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act. 

While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list. 

Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.

Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.

He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.

“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”

If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.

Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.

You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.

He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.

However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.

“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”

It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.

Simeon:

If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned

Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.

All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again. 

The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.

He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.

He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.

He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.

He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.

If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over. 

His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.

Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.

Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.

Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.

He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.

While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.

He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.

The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.

The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.

It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.

He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you. 

He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.

Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.

It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.

That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet. 

He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.

However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.

So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.

He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely. 

He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.

Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.

Luke (MC is his best friend):

Luke will be very, very distressed. 

You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?

Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???

As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case. 

Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.

Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude. 

He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.

Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.

As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.

He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.

I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.

Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.

Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.

Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading! 

[bi-han-simp]

A Pearl

Poseidon x Oc angst

CW: Spoilers for Record of Ragnarok, major character death, graphic description of death, implied suicide attempt, mention of children, no happy ending :) 

If wanted, i can make another variation of this with Y/N

Visual for Oc below :

Art by : Taiyonnii on instagram

Ragnarok was a silly idea that had been proposed in order to save humanity. It was laughable at best. Humans testing their luck against Gods for their survival? It was evident on the outcome, but it had seemed to be entertaining to say the least, just watching humanity fight to stop the end of their pitiful existence. Most Gods had been for this extinction of a whole race, including Mian. 

Mian wasn't a prominent deity such as the 12 olympians, but she was still respected. It didn't come from her accomplishments, rather because of a beautiful pearl ring that rested upon her left finger. The River Goddess had been none other than the Queen of the Seas, the wife of Poseidon. If it hadn’t been for that ring on her finger then no one would be able to tell the two had been involved with one another. From an outside perspective it seemed like Mian was an assistant rather than a lover, but why show any type of PDA when it hadn’t been necessary. 

During the first fight between Thor and Lu Bu, the Goddess sat with a few fellow Gods spectating the match. To everyone's surprise, the human competitor was holding his own against the God of Thunder. Under normal circumstances no human weapon would be able to pierce the skin of that of a Gods, but because Brunhilde had the other Valkyries use Völundr they had a chance. It was cunning of her to say the least, but it seemed she was prepared to do anything to win this. 

Just as expected, Thor had come out victorious. With Lu Bu dead, his troops wished for the same fate and it was granted. It was honorable of them to want the same fight as their leader. 

The next fight was supposed to be Shiva and Adam, but it didn't seem like things went to plan. Mian watched as Zeus and Hermes excused themselves from watching, but she didn’t press on where they were going. It wasn’t her place. She was still curious nonetheless, and her questions were soon answered. 

Adam soon made his entrance to the arena, waiting for his opponent to arrive as well. Shiva was expected to show, but it was none other that Hermes… well, Hermes with a frail old man. The River Goddess only rolled her eyes at the sight, seeing that her brother in law was impatient as ever. Still, she was confident in his victory.

 It was a fight that put most on the edge of their seats as it seemed Adam had the upper hand. Zeus didn’t seem like he was able to land an attack on him, and all his attacks seemed to be used against him. Eventually it was a back and forth fight, tied up until the very end. It was a close match, but as expected Zeus came out on top. 

As the second bout concluded, Mian quickly dismissed herself from the two Gods that had accompanied her for the time being. She had a bit of time before the third was to start, meaning she still had time to get to the waiting area of the arena. Normally she wouldn't be nervous of such a fight, but these humans seemed to come close with each fight so far. It wasn’t possible for a human to best Poseidon, right? 

Mian pushed away her thoughts as she continued her way to the room. Her right hand moved up to give the door a couple knocks before she let herself in. her yellow eyes had landed on a specific God, standing in all his glory. Without any words spoken the Goddess made her way over to the other, her eyes staring up at his face. He didn’t seem to show any emotions very often, and this had been no exception. 

“Promise me you’ll come back.” It was a silly statement, but she still said it. Afterall, he was a perfect being so why should he worry if he were to fight some human? “Do you doubt my abilities?” his tone was cold, just like how he spoke to everyone else. 

“Of course not. But it will reassure me if you promise.” her eyes moved to try and find his own, meeting them briefly. He stayed silent for the moment, catching her eyes with his own, a truly rare thing for him to do. “We are perfect beings. I will not be done in by some worthless creature.” His answer caused her to let out a small sigh, shaking her head in response. “That is not a promise, Poseidon. Tell me you will come back to me after this.” it didn't seem as though she was going to let this down, not until he verbally promised her such. 

Was it really necessary to promise over such a thing, to them both it was evident he would come out on top? 

Mian slowly brought her hand up to gently push back a piece of his blonde hair, pressing her palm against his cheek soon after. Her thumb gently moved along his cheekbone, showing a small bit of PDA. it wasn't like anyone else had been in the room, so there were no peering eyes. The God of the Seas still found promising over something was pointless, but did so regardless. He wasn’t one to show emotions for everyone, but he showed bits when it came to certain beings. “If it will get you to stop this fussing, then I promise.” the River Goddess’s lips slightly turned upwards, showing a brief smile. It was uncharacteristic for either to smile, but it seemed as though he had been the only God to manage to get her to show that kind of emotion. 

“Thank you,” she wanted to share this moment with him longer, but it was soon cut short when a nymph had entered the room uninvited. Mian quickly removed her hand from his face, her eyes moving to look at the being who interrupted them. 

The nymph had seemed to shake under the glares of the rulers of the Seas, Poseidon’s glare being even heavier. “Please excuse me.. Lord Poseidon, Lady Mian..” their voice was slightly shaky, evidently nervous of this situation. “The third round will be starting in just a couple minutes. I-i was sent to come and fetch you, my Lord.” the time they had together seemed to be brief, leading her to let out a soft sigh. 

“We were just finishing up anyways,” Mian glanced up to Poseidon once more, giving him a final word of encouragement. “Best of luck, my dear.” what neither of them knew was those were the last words she would ever be able to say to him. Without any more words spoken between the couple, they had both gone their separate ways; Mian went back to spectate with Hermes and Ares while Poseidon went towards the entrance of the arena to his fight. 

Mian somewhat rushed to get back to the v.i.p section for the Gods, not wanting to miss any bit of the fight. Luckily, she opened the door just moments before Heimdall began to announce the next fighters. When looking at the arena it seemed it would be in Poseidon’s favor as it was primarily water with just a platform in the middle. 

The teal haired woman took her seat once more, crossing her right leg over her left. Her hands were in the opposite, resting against her knee with her glistening under the shade. Despite seeming very calm, she was lost in her own thoughts. He promised he would come back and he had never broken any promise. She had faith that he would come out on top, but she watched how close the other matches had been. At the very least he would be injured, but he would surely win.. Right? 

The Goddess remained calm as Heimdall announced the first fighter, the God of the Seas. The arena erupted with cheers as the God tamed the waters around, making his entrance to the arena. It seemed that everyone had been excited to see Poseidon send another pathetic human fighter to Niflhel. However, on the human side it seemed to be deadly silent with a nervous face on most. The previous fight had been Zeus, and now it was his older brother? 

Once the God had fully stepped into the arena the place had been silent with fear. He had been a terrifying being after all, scaring even the other Gods.  

Everyone had remained quiet as the human fighter was making his entrance. ’The greatest loser’? A man who had not won a single fight in his life was put up against Poseidon? Was that some kind of joke? Not only that, but he was an old man. Not even the human crowd seemed to cheer for such a man, afterall it seemed like their fate was already set in stone. 

Throughout the fight it seemed as to be in Poseidon’s favor, not receiving many injuries. The same could not be said about Sasaki. At certain points his death had seemed to be assured, but barely managed to escape with just various wounds. Even as he obtained a second blade, it seemed as though he was in an uphill battle with the God. 

With everyone on the edge of their seats watching the fight unfold, the unthinkable had happened. 

First it was his right arm, leaving everyone in the arena completely silent. Next was his left, rendering the God with no other option but to use his mouth as a final attempt to end the fighter in front of him. Even as a last attempt, he was unable to deliver his own final strike, rather he had been on the receiving end of the final strike. Sasaki used Sōen Zanko Banjin Ryōran, cutting the God into various places, leaving him to stumble as he was barely holding himself together. 

The normally emotionless Mian starred in horror as the scene unraveled. He promised her. He promised he would come back, but that was just a falsified statement that would never come true. 

As everyone was in such a state of shock, she stood from her seat. She had planned to do the unthinkable, stepping closer to the railing of their section, ready to make her way down to where her beloved had been. Her right hand was on the structure, however her left was held back by the messenger God. even in such a state he figured what the Goddess planned to do, stopping her in her place. 

Finally, the stumbling stopped, but that wasn't the end. That was when the cuts finally took form, his body falling apart into three sections leaving a miniscule amount of his torso with his legs standing. 

With cheers erupting from the humans, Mian could no longer bear to view the sight, turning her head away from her now deceased husband. She tugged her arm away from Hermes, dismissing herself without speaking a single word to him or Ares. What could she say in such a situation? Nothing she could do would bring him back. No one could bring him back. 

Once the Goddess left the v.i.p. Section, her eyes looked down to her left hand. It was what tied her to God of Seas, now being the only living proof that he had once been much more than a soul that was reduced to nothing. 

The longer she stared at the ring, the more everything seemed to become a reality. An unfamiliar wetness began to litter the back of her hand, her own vision starting the blur. Tears. She was crying. It was something that she had never done, so why now of all times. They didn’t seem to stop either, the hot teardrops infinitely forming in her eyes, pouring into her hands. 

She felt pathetic for allowing such emotions to wash over her, she was a Goddess as well as the Queen of the Seas. however, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she just witnessed. Why did it have to be him? The two still had many things to do with one another. They were bound to one another for a millennium, but never had started a family. It had been a plan in the near future, maybe even at the end of Ragnarok as celebration for the extinction of humanity. Truly, Mian wanted nothing more than to raise their children in a world that wasn’t polluted as it is today. 

“Oh Poseidon..” her voice was audible to anyone but herself, her eyes still focused on the beautiful pearl ring that decorated her finger. “I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye to you.. I’m sorry I wasn't able to tell you I loved you one last time. please forgive me..”