#TWO WHOLE FICS!!!! I LIVE THE PEAK!!!!! its good too!!!!! like GENUINELY not just out of desperation for content

[suntails]

a moment from a fic my twt moot wrote!!!! i lost my MIND!!!! silvil has two whole fics now,,,,,,, they’re canon,,,,,, (delusional)

read it HERE and feel complete with me <3 <3 read the silvil propaganda. im beaming it into ur mind

[silverloreleysfanfics]

The Snow Queen on the Isle of the Lost - Prologue

So, this is the beginning/premise of a much longer fic I have in the works (@dragoneyes618 and @chronically-unlucky it’s the one we spoke about yesterday), but it can work as a standalone so I thought it could be good enough to publish it.

Summary: What if Hans won? After all, two right steps in the right direction, a little more attention to details, a lie held in place a tad longer, a little more patience, even, it'd been so easy. It made Elsa spontaneously give up her throne and accept to go the Isle of the Lost, leaving him the only one in line for the throne... Hans won. But how? And with what consequences? Would that mean he truly won? And how Elsa would fare on the Isle, from its creation and during the 20 years of its existence?

Trigger warnings: character death, attemped murder and suicide mentions.

Hans played all his cards, and he did it well.

He waited until Anna exhaled her last breath to announce her death to the other nobles. How he kept her inside the room was not through force, but the power of words, with a quick tongue, laced in sweet poison.

"I'm sorry, I do love you. Maybe not even True Love's Kiss is powerful enough to challenge your sister's magic" he lied through his teeth.

Then Anna realized she didn't love him. She said they had it wrong, that maybe Elsa was right, that they barely knew each other and he listened her rambling about some ice harvester and her trip to the North Mountain and then to Trolls who were love experts or something.

He feigned hurt, enraged by the last joke pulled on him as it was clear Anna had fallen for the peasant boy, even if he didn't care about her, even if she was a means to an end, knowing even someone as naive and desperate as her could toss him aside so easily stung.

Only then he spoke the truth, only after Anna's hands had already turned into ice, her hair all white, even her irises had changed into icy blue embed with snowflakes.

It was too late for her to be saved, but enough for him to take the little revenge.

But he put back the façade once out the room and it was an act good enough he shed actual tears when the ice harvester came back for Anna - too late, too late - and even to say had he known he would have gladly let him save her if it had meant for her to be alive and happy.

After that, he had to make everything run smooth.

He played the heartbroken widowed prince, the just man who took the burden of the crown of a cursed kingdom, like his wife had begged him to when she died "with the wedding vows still on her lips".

He condamned the Queen to death, even if he had no actual right, because he managed to exploit the moment of pain and confusion and fear at its peak.

When he found the runaway Queen, he destroyed her will to fight with the news of her sister's death, her grief took the light out her eyes long before he swung his sword. But the iron broke in a thousand of frozen pieces. Elsa was grieving, knees on the ground in quiet tears, dead inside like the sudden stillness of the air around her, but her magic was still strong, her magic still protected her.

They took her back to the Ice Castle after the damage she made to the palace. The guards - her guards - treated her gently, despite the eternal winter was still ongoing, despite the princess' death, she was still their queen and they recognized she was genuinely heartbroken at the news of her sister's demise.

She never said a word, never looked at anyone, her eyes void of tears after she spilled them all.

When Hans sentenced her to go back to her Ice Palace, she didn't object, unlike the little living snowman.

«Olaf, it's alright» she said, quietly, then «Take care of my people, prince Hans»

Those were the last words Elsa would say for weeks, but for Hans it was the validation he desperately wanted his whole life long.

§

Two weeks later, the winter persisted yet and Elsa walked past the broken railing of her balcony.

Only the thick layer of soft snow stopped an otherwise deadly fall - why didn't she just die? stop ruining the kingdom he worked so hard to get! - and the news of the attempt were impossible to contain.

After that, the servants who were aware of her secret long before her coronation spilled the rest of the story to defend her, and the people of Arendelle listened to their compatriots. The foreign prince who was supposed to become their ruler wasn't lying, but he didn't understand that Queen Elsa didn't deserve death, only help.

Arendelle's councilmen, those who acted as regents between the death of King Agnarr and the time Elsa turned of age, were thorns in Hans' sides, preventing him from getting full power, refusing to acknowledge the legitimacy of his sentence of High Treason towards the Queen because, well, they could concede he was grieving for Anna when he said so, but he didn't have the right to do it, not even if they chose to believe he and Anna had recited wedding vows alone - which was a thing, given the extreme circumstances and Anna's nature, so they didn't oppose on that - Hans didn't have the power to overthrow the current ruler.

They went to visit their queen, braving the snowstorms and the perils of North Mountain, to speak with her.

When they came back, disappointed and worried - this much was clear - they said Elsa officially allowed for Hans to be regent.

She allowed! The joke was on him, Hans knew, and knew he'd stay so as long as Elsa lived.

Or as long as she finished mourning, which could happen. This was likely the hope of the councilmen and Arendellians alike, that she'd stop grieving and came back to be their queen, stop the curse on her own volition.

And Hans had to take steps to ensure his full rise into power before that could happen, that much was sure.

§

A month in his ruling and little changed, the killers who were sent up the North Mountain failed one by one, now new statues adorned the surroundings and the inside of the Ice Castle.

The same month, the older princes of the Southern Isles sent their condolences for the death of his wife - took them long enough to recognize where he was and what he was doing, but now they knew - and Hans was finally among the real powerful ones, acknowledged at last.

If only that stupid curse would end!

And if only Arendellians weren't so stubborn, to side with their Witch Queen instead of with their saviour!

Nothing to be done, there. He had to get their trust bit by bit, with example and care. There was nothing else to do, if Elsa refused to die.

§

Two months.

Arendelle was suffering from the lack of any harvest and the near-impossibility to enter the frozen fjord and Hans had been forced to ask for help to the neighbouring kingdoms - not his brothers, never to his brothers. He had to do it and do it well and do it alone -.

Enter the soon-to-be-crowned King Beast and his wonderful plan: create a union of kingdoms to go under the name of Auradon where only heroes could live, where people with magic were banned for life or had to relinquish their power, where all those who could do harm would be exiled where they'd amount to nothing.

Hans didn't want to give up his domain, but Arendelle was on the edge of ruin, so he traded a bit of his power for the health of the kingdom. He'd still be king - even people of Arendelle will have to call him that, because Queen Elsa will be gone at last and he's the only one next in line -, that was good enough, still higher than most his brothers.

He took time to consider it, but he already knew he couldn't be picky. It was either King Beast or his brothers.

He chose the Beast.

§

The Isle of the Lost was a good solution also to Hans' other main problem: the distrust of the people of Arendelle towards him. They still stubbornly loved Elsa and doubted such a kind child, who grew into a mild-mannered woman, could be the cruel monster who willingly killed her beloved sister and cursed the land.

"Why curse her own kingdom?" was the question.

"Because she was was discovered as a witch" was his reply, the official reply, a law in his own good.

But people didn't follow it.

"What killer cries for its victim?" they wondered, the sight of the weeping and devastated queen, down on her knees when she was told her sister was dead was sculpted in everyone's minds.

"Either she repented, or she knew it meant her own damnation"

No good. It didn't matter how perfect his explanations were, people still loved Elsa and opposed to the capital punishment, even if the kingdom was still frozen over, even if it could stay like this forever.

After all, they said, summer only lasted a month or so in the fjord, with autumn and spring two months each. They were used to winter, they said. A southern prince couldn't understand, they said.

So Hans, kind, handsome prince who turned their regent - not king, never king if Elsa stayed alive and in Arendelle - had to behave like a hero and pick the next best thing.

In this case, to accept the alliance with King Beast and to exile Elsa to the Isle of the Lost.

When they told her - he didn't show up alone in front of her, he never did after their last conversation, after he tried to cut her head off and failed - she barely replied.

Four months in her curse, she barely did anything at all: barely ate, barely slept, barely moved. The annoying talking snowman was by her side most the time, taking care of her with its stick-made arms and clumsy movements and neverending chatter, but she barely spoke to him too, or so his spies said.

She was a prisoner already, of herself more than of him, Hans knew it all too well. She was keeping all of them in her own prisony of snow and ice, she was the one who held them all captive with her grief.

A look in her sad eyes and he hated her even more, because even at her lowest, even completely defeated, even when she lost it all, she still had the whole land in her hands.

Hans knew she cared - or she convinced herself she did - about Arendelle, and he knew she couldn't be taken anywhere with force, no one was strong enough for her magic, but her heart was as fragile as a crystal and exploiting her deepest weakness was his primary weapon.

He talked about how the people were suffering, how hard an eternal winter was to go by, she didn't seem to listen to most of it, but then he spoke of Anna, how she loved summer and would have wanted the winter to end, how she wanted the best for the kingdom and laced his words with honey and sour spices mashed together for the good part of an hour before she dignified him with a reaction.

She turned to him, for the first time in months really looking at anything, and asked: «If I go, will Arendelle be safe from my curse?»

They hoped so, it was their best shot, he told her, truthful for once.

«Then so be it» she replied, signing her own sentence in cold voice and imperious tone, more severe towards herself than to anyone.

If only she knew, Hans thought viciously, how Anna's death could have been avoided, how much he enjoyed taking away the only hope his "wife" had to survive...

He didn't say a word. Didn't gloat, didn't react with anything but a kind, perfect smile of gratitude and understanding.

He was the hero, and heroes acted with benevolence.

§

Elsa descended from the North Mountain at the beginning of the fifth month, when Auradon was setting and the Isle was almost ready to receive its inhabitants.

A contingent of armed guards escorted her all the way down - not for his order, but because they all volunteered to -, on a sled that covered in gleaming frost the second she touched it, without chains binding her wrists and feet, and in her beautiful, glittering dress: not a prisoner, but still very much the queen she was born to be.

Hans hated her, more and more every passing day, but that day more than any other because she was all he strived to be and had to cheat and lie to resemble to, but wouldn't show it, not even in the last moments.

Her emotionless face could have been mistaken for a look of noble dignity, but Hans knew it was only apathy.

Her people saluted her like a hero, as if she was leaving on a mission to save them all, when she was only the monster that cursed them.

How couldn't they see it?

It didn't matter. Towards the Isle of the Lost she went, and there she was bound to stay for however long her life was going to be.

§

Seven months after the start of the wintery curse, the Isle of the Lost was finalized with an impenetrable magical barrier that neutralized the magic inside and would prevent any from going in, the prisoners were left there and the Isle was sealed for good.

Once spring came, at last, Arendelle thawed.

Hans could finally have his coronation, if he so wanted - and oh, how he wanted it! - and the people would have to let him do as he wanted, they had no other ruler, no one else in line for the throne.

But.

There were things they didn't know. That no one knew.

Before the crown was put on Hans' head, the earth shook, the winds blew, fires sprouted from every candle and torch and fireplace and turned blue and purple and snaked around.

Panic ensued, people called for a new curse, but there were no magic users left, were there?

The evacuation had to be quick, lives weren't lost, a bit of luck, the hopes to recover their land after the disaster were still up...

Until water came.

It was a flood unlike any other, as if the sudden earthquake and windstorms and fires had thawed the mountains around and all the melted snow covered Arendelle until there was no Arendelle any longer.

§

Truth was not known to mortals for a long time.

The Spirits had taken revenge. Arendelle had refused and secluded their gift, their magical child who they elected to become one of them had been sent away and rendered powerless and the Spirits didn't like their blessings to go lost.

But they weren't cruel either. No one died, although people lost their home, they kept their lives.

Moreover, they blessed a princess once more.

Not with magic, but with a new chance at life.

Amidst all chaos brought by the water Nokk, the Gale had taken the frozen statue that was Princess Anna from the castle and away, far up, and before the destruction of her kingdom it brought her to Earth's children, the Trolls, where Bruni thawed her, gently healing her frozen heart little by little.

And little by little she came back to life.

With no sister, or kingdom, or a husband that never was so to wait for her, but alive, in a new family of rock trolls and one ice harvester whose heart had been broken until then and was more than willing to devote his life to her, if she so wished, Anna lived on.

§

It took a full year for Anna to recover, a precious year in which she grieved and learned what happened to her sister and her people... and gave her the time to plan what to do next.

Hans - the traitor! - had tried to take over her home, he had forced her to stay in that room and no one knew that but Anna, but oh, she may not be princess of anything anymore, but she knew he deserved a good punch in his face, that much was sure.

That's what he got, when Anna stormed in the Southern Isles' palace, demanding to see him without revealing her identity until the very last moment and, well, it was fun because he almost managed to marry another princess and basically Anna crushed the wedding in the most dramatic fashion like in some stories she used to read when she was a kid!

Ahem.

But yeah, everybody thought she was only the dead wife coming back to life for her husband, until she revealed they never married and he left her to die when he could have helped and no, she didn't know how she came back to life from her sister's curse but she was there and demanded, if her sister had to be punished, that he was too because he had been way more villainous than Elsa in Anna's eyes.

Of course, Hans was shipped to the Isle of the Lost with the next barge.

Unfortunately, King Beast refused Anna's requests to allow Elsa back from the Isle of the Lost, they couldn't risk her to freeze Auradon over, you see? Moreover, it was Elsa who asked to be brought to the Isle, under the Barrier that kept her powers at bay, powers that hurt Anna, he dared to remind, and all things considered, everyone was better off without magic - without Elsa. It was only exile, after all.

Anna's princess title was worth next to nothing if she had no kingdom to rule and from which get political leverage, save from the Trolls' territory and whatever remained of the city in the fjord, any plea from her side fell on deaf ears.

Even so, once they found out their princess was alive, people of Arendelle started to come back, looking for her, hoping for her guidance, willing to rebuid what possible and be back as the united population they once were, not refugees in the Southern states of Auradon, but a community of their own once again.

It was going to take time, Anna knew, but she and Kristoff and their people would and could make Arendelle back the strong kingdom it once was and then she would find a way to save her sister from herself.

She promised.

[carnalpleasure]

Michael x Angel!Reader 👼

hi!! i’ve had this idea in my head for months and finally felt inspired to start it tonight. i’m still working on my other two fics.. but Michael’s been calling to me lately💕

Summary: The reader assigns herself to be Michael’s guardian angel. This takes place at the beginning of Sojourn, with Michael in the wilderness. But takes a slightly different turn <3

Every human being in the history of humanity had been born with a guardian angel. The precious moment a newborn baby breathes its first breath of life, an angel is assigned to be their lifelong guardian. The angel’s main mission being to protect their human ward from the dark forces that had plagued the earth for all eternity. Ever since the serpent seduced Eve into her first bite of the knowledge of Good and Evil.

But that streak was broken one day in late March of 2012, when Vivian Harmon gave birth to Satan’s only begotten son.

She was the Anti-Mary. Instead of a blessed virgin being touched by an angel, she was a victim of a demonic sexual assault. She died giving birth to the Antichrist.

Michael Langdon was Satan’s very first creation. Because he was not a child of God, he was not born with a guardian angel. His father didn’t bother to assign him a guardian demon either. The spawn of Satan was left in the hands of none other than his grandmother Constance, whom his father felt was perfect for raising the little monster.

When Michael outgrew her, his father introduced him to Anton Lavey, one of his most trusted followers, who would then introduce Michael as the heir to the Church of Satan.

Michael, however, didn’t really take to Anton. He felt much closer to another key member of the church, Miriam Mead. She took a liking to the boy too and lovingly welcomed him into her home, where she taught him all about rituals, prayers, Black Mass, satanic prophecy.. She was preparing him for the apocalypse. His destiny, as they’d all say.

Once Michael began becoming aware of his powers, his father then led him into the hands of the Warlocks. They thought they were training him to be their next Supreme, but he only needed them to show him how to use his powers. They were disposable beyond that.

Michael was a loyal son, never questioning his father’s decisions, until his beloved Ms. Mead was permanently taken from him by the witches. Cordelia was right, why did he let this happen?

In search of answers, Michael fled to the wilderness on a quest. Jesus had spent 40 days out in the desert being tempted by Satan himself before his own Father finally spoke to him. Michael decided he had to do the same.

That’s when he wandered out into the forest on the outskirts of LA and started to trace a pentagram in the dirt, tired and out of options.

“I’m not going any further,” he sulked, dragging the jagged stone across the ground. “Father, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded, out of breath as he finished carving his sigil into the soil.

“I’m not leaving this circle until you talk to me,” he pouted stubbornly. “They’re gone.. the warlocks.. my Ms. Mead. Burned alive at the stake by the witches. Until nothing was left but ash and smoke,” his voice was breaking but he was too exhausted to cry.

“You tell me what to do,” he sighed, “or you let me die here.” Then he fell to his knees in the center of the circle and waited for a sign.

He watched the sun set and rise four times before he finally had a vision. But even then, he couldn’t be sure if he was seeing a sign or just suffering from severe dehydration.

He saw a little boy offering a cold grape Fanta, and a little girl holding a basket of red apples, and he thought maybe God was trying to tempt him into the light now. To distract him from his mission and derail him from his destiny.

He refused, “No, I’m on a mission. I have to talk to my father,” he said weakly. “Leave me alone.” Then the visions turned dark. He was taunted by Ms. Mead and then praised by Anton Lavey.

“You’re not real. None of this is.. re-real.” He shook his head and raised his hand to shield his face from the blinding light that was radiating from the High Priest before him.

“You’ve done a great job.” The Satanist proudly smiled. “No..” Michael protested, “I failed. I-I’m lost. I don’t understand my purpose,” he was out of breath and at a loss for words. He was tired of games, all he wanted was his father’s help. Everything was spinning.

The vision of Anton continued reciting to him from the prophecy in Revelation, calling him the Alpha and the Omega. Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He made a lunge for Anton, wrapping a hand around his throat to choke him out. Only seconds later, the vision vanished altogether.

And that’s when he saw you. The last thing he remembered was an impossibly beautiful girl with big white wings and a little white dress. He fell to his knees again, in shock and exhaustion, and collapsed into her arms. He felt the warm, soft embrace of feathers, and then he fell into a much needed sleep.

When he awoke a day later, he was still pretty disoriented from the lack of food, water, and sleep. His mind was a haze. He didn’t realize where he was, he only knew that this bed was softer than anything he’d ever felt.

The blankets felt like fluffed up clouds and the pillows smelled like lavender. A cool breeze caressed his skin, and he noticed the temperature of the room was significantly cooler than anything he’d felt in a long time. That radiating heat that seemed to consume him constantly just wasn’t there.

He reached his hand out to feel along the bed. Empty. He opened his eyes, hoping to see the angel from his dreams sitting there watching over him. But the room was empty too.

He sat up in bed, clutching the sheets and looking around anxiously. The room was nice, but it wasn’t anything extreme. It was kinda charming actually, soft and cozy. It didn’t look like anyone had been living here for very long.

Michael climbed out of bed, stepping foot on the soft, plush carpet and smiling at the touch. He walked towards the bedroom door which was just barely cracked open, and stuck his head out slowly to peak outside.

You were in the kitchen, digging around in the refrigerator when you heard him come out. You twisted around, bumping the fridge door shut with your hip and then dropping everything on the counter.

“You’re up already? Are you feeling okay?” The pained look on his face made you worry. He looked exhausted still, leaning against the doorway just to hold himself up.

You rushed to his side, a little faster than humanly possible, and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him steady himself. He leaned into your embrace but winced a little at your touch. His body was sore everywhere.

He couldn’t stop staring at you. Almost glaring, looking at you like you’d just lied straight to his face. You walked him to the counter, sitting him down across from you and then running back to quickly check the stove. He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.

“I’m making you a breakfast feast,” you smiled at him over your shoulder. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days..”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected. “But wh-who are you? How did I get here?”

You smiled gently, passing him a plate of bacon and eggs to get him started while you finished the french toast. “I’m Y/N, I brought you here,” you said happily.

He kept looking you up and down. You looked exactly like he remembered, but you were now missing one unique, defining feature..

“Are you-“ he couldn’t bring himself to say the word out loud. It didn’t seem possible to him. “You had.. wings before,” his brow furrowed in confusion and his glare returned.

You simply nodded, glancing over at him and frying a piece of toast in the pan. “You remembered,” you said with a smile.

His confusion only grew. You poured him a glass of milk and then slid the fork closer to him. “Eat, please. We have plenty of time to talk later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” you brushed his blonde curls out of his face and the divine touch of your fingers briefly lingered on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He hesitated, picking up his fork and taking a bite. It wasn’t just the starvation talking, he genuinely enjoyed your food. He immediately started feeling his strength and energy coming back. He felt revitalized.

It wasn’t just the food. Something about your presence was so satisfying to him. You brought him a kind of merciful peace that was only reserved for the saints. He didn’t need confirmation, he knew in his heart you were something holy. And he only hoped that you didn’t know what he truly was. If you ever fell in love with him, it would be your fall from grace.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered softly. His heart was pounding. He felt like he was committing a crime just by being in your presence. He felt like God would smite him any minute just for laying eyes on you.

You cupped his face in your hands gently, wiping away a stray tear that fell from his eyes. “As of today, I’m officially a guardian angel,” you smiled proudly. Your eyes actually twinkled, it completely captivated him.

“Guardian? Who’s guardian?” his pouty lip quivered and you could see all the new emotions swirling around him like a hurricane. He couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. He thought he must’ve been dreaming. He wasn’t dead, he knew that. He was destined for hell and there’s no one like her down there.

He was so cute. “Yours, duh” you giggled, letting go of his face and playfully tousling his blonde locks. He looked up at you with a small smirk that spread into a big smile. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. “How?-“ he silently mouthed as the words he was looking for escaped him.

“You didn’t have one,” you shrugged. “So I.. guess you could say I volunteered.” You didn’t want to overwhelm him with too many details, but the adorable confused puppy look on his face was begging for answers. “Volunteered?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side curiously. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“I just thought you should have someone looking out for you too.. you know. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Not by God or anyone.” You said it with such sincerity, he could see it on your face how strongly you felt about those words.

His eyes started to overflow with tears but he couldn’t help but smile. It was the single kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. That’s when it hit him. You already knew what he was. You knew who he was. And you were willing to go against both God’s will and Satan’s to take over as his protector. You left heaven just for him.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and quietly sobbing into your chest. Tears of pure joy and gratitude. Little “thank yous” whispered on repeat against your skin, so close you can feel his lips brushing across your collarbones with each word.

He snaked his arms around your waist tighter and tighter, pulling you as close to him as physics would allow. It melted your heart how close he wanted to be to you.

“Aw.. you just want to be held,” you giggled, putting your arms around his shoulders and hugging his body closer to yours. “I’m here, Michael. I’ve got you now. You’re safe, you’re mine,” you cooed, your lips brushing against his temple.

His eyes were closed and his face was pressed against your chest, all he heard was a swift whoosh as your wings suddenly appeared, folding around both of your bodies like a soft shield tucking him into you. He’d never felt so safe before, all nestled in your feathers.

He peaked his eyes open to look around at them. “That’s fucking awesome,” he muttered softly, his jaw dropping as his eyes shot up to meet yours. You smiled down at him, kissing his forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle. He made you feel giddy, the way he looked at you. Like you were made of magic.

“My own guardian angel,” he said quietly to himself, still in awe of it all. He refused to let go of you for the rest of the day after that. All he wanted to do was lie in your arms. Feel your embrace. And you were happy to oblige because he needed to rest anyway. The two of you returned to your bed where he spent the rest of the night on your chest, fast asleep in your arms. The safest place he could ever be.

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo

[toraodwaterlaw]

Heart to Heart

Part 1 of a four part AU fic set just after Marineford. In this AU, Doflamingo discovered Law and kept Rosinante alive as a way to force Law into his service. Law becomes the third Corazon while Rosinante lives as a prisoner in the palace on Dressrosa. Hopefully this makes enough sense on its own. 😅

1365 words, angst with an eventual happy ending

-

Law slid to the ground and let his eyes close to the stable metronome of the twin pair of heart monitors. He hadn’t been this exhausted since the final days of his fight with Amber Lead. This time there was no poison in his blood. He was no longer a frail child but a healthy adult in peak condition. Doflamingo would accept no less of his second in command. However, there was no amount of training that could prepare him for keeping two patients alive through little more than sheer force of will.

Straw Hat Luffy and Jinbe, knight of the sea, would live. It would have been a difficult operation even with proper support. On his own, with only the powers of the Op-Op fruit to back him up, it had been a nightmare. He’d needed to keep a Room up for over twelve hours straight. There was still work to be done but he didn’t have the energy to stand, let alone continue a delicate operation. They were no longer careening toward death. That would have to do for the time being.

Law would have liked nothing more than to slip into unconsciousness himself. Ideally he would go to his quarters and slip into bed. It was one of the few places in the world where he felt secure enough anymore to fall into a deep sleep. At this point, though, he would have happily settled for passing out on the floor in the operating room. But what he might want would have to wait. It always did, when it came to Doflamingo.

He groped blindly at the shelf behind him until he found his den den mushi. He allowed himself one bracing breath before dialing.

“You’re alive.”

Law suppressed the shudder he felt at hearing that voice. After all these years it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. “I am.”

“That was quite the show you put on.”

Law’s mind raced immediately in response, looking for the right response. Doflamingo was all about theatrics. His whole so-called Family was. So, there was a chance he approved of what Law had done. It would all depend on how this reflected on him. It would definitely cause a stir. Law had known that from the moment his small submarine surfaced at Marineford. He’d gone in knowing it was likely to be a disaster but, for some reason, he hadn’t cared. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d acted without first considering how Doflamingo would feel about it. What could Law say? If Doflamingo didn’t approve, Law was certain there wasn’t an explanation that would please him, regardless.

“I’m sorry.” The apology tasted like ash on his tongue, like the bile building at the back of his throat. “I—”

“I don’t really care,” Doflamingo drawled. A hint of amusement tinged his voice. With him, that could be genuine or it could be a sign of something very dangerous. He didn’t sound angry, at the very least, but that meant very little. Law knew the venom that could hide behind a smile. “I still have business to take care of but we’ll have to have a good talk as soon as you’re back in Dressrosa. Come home the moment you’re done playing around.”

The line went dead, leaving silence that rang in Law’s ears.

Home. It stuck out to Law, like a nail in the floorboards. Doflamingo couldn’t be so self centered that he thought Law actually felt that way about the palace on Dressrosa, even after nearly a decade. Or, actually, Doflamingo could very well be that delusional. The fact was, it could be the rest of Law’s life and he would never feel that way about it. Not that it mattered, in the end. Home or prison, it was where Law would always return. So long as Cora was there, Law would be, too.

He didn’t have to be, though, a dark voice inside him whispered. He could leave. There had never been a better opportunity for Law to slip away and never return. Doflamingo wouldn’t be expecting him back for weeks. He could have a real head start. He could finally be free.

“Dammit.”

He banged his head back against the metal cabinet behind him and jabbed another number into the den den mushi. A tap on the other end let him know that Cora was there and that it was safe to talk.

“Cora-san, I...”

Guilt tightened Law’s throat. He’d done nothing but betray Cora. His hand tightened around the receiver so that it creaked in his grip. He heard another tap from the other end of the line.

Yes?

Law swallowed hard. The less Cora knew of how Law had failed him, the better. Let him think that Law was in any way worthy of the sacrifices he’d made. But Law couldn’t leave him completely in the dark. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. It was hard to think through the pain and haze of exhaustion. He was certain he was going to say the wrong thing.

“I did something stupid. Doflamingo already knows. I don’t know if it’s in the news already. Maybe you’ve already seen. I wanted you to know, though, in case Doflamingo— I want you to be safe.”

He counted heartbeats as he waited. Finally there were a series of taps. It was part of the communication they’d worked out over the years and a phrase Law had probably heard more than any other from Cora.

Are you okay?

“I’m fine.”

That lie came easily. He could have been asleep and the same words would have come out. He should have left it at that. That was safe. It might not satisfy Cora, but they were both used to conversations ending there. But then his roving eyes landed on the blood that was now splattered about his ordinarily spotless operating room. It was a mess. It was all a giant mess. Law bit down on his lip as it started to tremble. It wasn’t enough to stop him from venting everything that had built up. The entire story tumbled out, from waiting in Marineford’s harbor like the obedient dog he was to his snap decision and rushed escape as he struggled to drag two terminal patients back from the brink.

It all seemed to come out as one long jumble of words that left him breathless by the time he was done. “It was stupid,” he said, more to himself than to the man on the other end of the line. “I knew while I was doing it that I shouldn’t. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He’d watched as the brother Straw Hat had come to save was murdered in front of him. The oppressive weight of fire and death had nearly been enough to choke Law. It had struck something deep in him and shook loose long buried memories of Flevance.

Law’s hands started to shake as he waited for a response. There weren’t any more taps but a sharp inhale. Cora was upset. He’d said too much.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. Take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He hung up. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until they hurt and he cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let tears fall but he didn’t have the strength left to stop them.

He had to hope that one stupid act in ten years of service wouldn’t be enough for Doflamingo to decide to do something drastic. Or, if he did, let it fall on Law’s own head. This had nothing to do with Cora. Law was officially the third Corazon. It was time Doflamingo started punishing him directly for acting out.

Maybe he could make that argument. Or, if that didn’t work, he could beg. He would beg, if he had to. If it would save Cora, he would do anything. Hadn’t he shown that by now?

As he considered his options, Law slid further down onto the cold metal floor and fell into a fitful sleep.

[wedreamedlove]

[FIC] Golden Wheat

Rating: M Characters: Xu Mo/Reader Word Count: 4388

Tags: Lime. Fluff. Minor angst. Established Relationship.

Notes: He’s 29 years old, if we’re counting from when this game was released in China! (I have to make myself feel better about my own aging LOL).

Summary: Sometimes a special day doesn't need anything special, simply being together with someone important to you is enough.

"Mhm, I just got off work and I'll be coming home after making a quick detour. I'll only be 10, maybe 15, minutes later than usual."

You tell Xu Mo this through the phone while weaving around people on the sidewalk, heading for a bakery which was just across the street from you.

"Huh? Oh no, you don't need to come pick me up. Seriously, I'll be home before you—ah!" You jerk to a stop before you step out into the road when a car comes to a screeching stop right before the crosswalk, blaring its horns at you.

Excuse me? The walking sign is clearly on and flashing, so you have the right of way! Was the driver trying to run a red light?!

You give them the stink eye and then cross the street quickly, this time after checking to make sure no other cars are going to try and break the law, before picking up your conversation on the phone again.

"Hello? Sorry about that. Anyway, like I said, I'll be back before you know it. Just relax and wait at home!"

You don't hear a response after your words though so you bring the phone down only to see that the screen is completely black. Did your phone die!? But it was clearly at 20% battery the last time you checked... You know you should have replaced this old phone with a new one, but work has been so busy lately that the matter keeps slipping your mind.

Hopefully, Xu Mo got most of your message though. You speed up your steps just in case and head into the bakery to get the birthday cake you ordered in advance. You and him planned to take a trip to celebrate his birthday and, unlike the first celebration, you're determined to make sure this cake survives its journey to him.

~~~

Of course, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Who knew you would end up waiting in line forever just because a customer decided to argue with the counter clerk. It gets to the point where you contemplate stepping in to save the poor employee who is being berated, but fortunately a manager appears to handle the irate customer.

After that whole situation is resolved though, there's an issue with your custom order in their electronic records and the employees have to spend a good chunk of time manually finding your order in the back of the store.

By the time you leave the bakery, you decide to hop into a taxi to get home instead of taking the subway, thinking that will be quicker, but it's peak rush hour now and you end up getting stuck in the traffic of everyone else trying to go home.

Your estimated 10 to 15 minutes of being home later than expected becomes an hour and a half. You also have no easy way of contacting Xu Mo to let him know. For a second, you think about asking to borrow the taxi driver's phone, but decide that will be too much of a hassle.

You just know Xu Mo is going to give you that helpless smile of his, tinged with exasperated affection, when you get home and tell him all about your Herculean journey today.

Finally, the taxi brings you to the small neighborhood where you are living with Xu Mo and you quickly pay the fare before jogging through the small path between the trees to the house and the man you know is waiting at the end.

You lift your eyes up automatically, straining to see a familiar silhouette on the veranda where he will often lean against the rails to catch sight of you whenever you return home later than him. However, you don't see any figure on the veranda. The lights of the house are on, so you know he must be at home. But you don't see him.

Just as your eyebrows start to furrow, you hear the gravel ahead of you crunch and shift and your line of sight drops down to see Xu Mo appear on the road home.

Oh. He must have been unable to wait for you and came down to personally welcome you home instead. Fondness and amusement wells up in you and you get the urge to tease him for his impatience.

"Xu—" You start to say his name, but then you find yourself pulled into a crushing embrace. Caught off guard, the cake box tumbles out of your hands and onto the ground between you two.

"You're home."

His voice is hoarse and the freezing cold fingertips that brush against you, when he curls a hand around the back of your head to hold you closer to him, gives you a shock. How long has he been standing out here waiting for you?

You can feel his throat move beside your ear, Adam's apple bobbing, as if there are too many things he wants to say but he doesn't know where to start and so he can only swallow the words down. It's so unusual for your professor that your hands hover in the air, not sure what has come over him, before you finally return his embrace.

A tremor runs through him at your touch.

"I'm back."

"... You were gone for much longer than 15 minutes later than usual."

There was an angry customer in the bakery. The shop had problems. The taxi got caught in traffic. My phone died. These phrases appear in your head but they all sound like excuses even though there is no censure in his voice.

"I'm sorry," you say instead, feeling contrite as you realize he was genuinely worried, "I should have let you know somehow."

His silent laugh stirs your hair. "I'm not blaming you, but hm... maybe you do need to pay a price for lying."

It's your turn to laugh against him and the weight in your chest disappears when you hear him slyly trying to get a benefit. If he can tease you like this, then whatever emotions that had prepossessed him earlier are now gone.

"Alright, name your price." You place yourself in his hands without hesitation, curious as to what he'll ask for.

"Let's cancel the trip tomorrow."

However, you weren't expecting him to say this. You blink and then reflexively step back to be able to see his face. Xu Mo lets go, giving you this space, and watches you with a calm expression.

You can't read anything in those quiet and dark eyes, but it's extremely rare for him to openly go against something he knows you've been looking forward to, especially when the purpose of this trip is to celebrate his birthday. You don't refuse him though. You can't and never have whenever he voices his wants.

"Okay, we don't have to go. It'll be your birthday after all, so whatever you say goes." You smile brightly to let him know you really don't mind.

"Thank you." His expression softens, eyes suffusing with tenderness, and then he bends down to pick up the fallen cake box in one hand before reaching out with his other to grab yours. His slender fingers slide in between your fingers and your hands press together, palms flush with each other. "Let's go in before you catch a cold."

"You're one to talk," you reply, squeezing his cool hand in emphasis before you place your free hand on top of his and yours and try to rub some of your warmth into him.

He leads you on the short path home and you swing your joined hands lightly as you tell him all about your day. When you get to the part about the cake, the two of you are already through the front door and you cast a look at the box in his hand, which he's placing on the small entryway table, and sigh as you take off your shoes.

"I'm a bit scared to open the box and see what happened to that poor cake after its fall. Hey, how come there's always cake casualties on your birthday?"

You raise your head up to look at him only to feel something warm press against your mouth.

Xu Mo takes advantage of your surprise to deepen the kiss. Despite the chill that lingers in his hands when he cups your face and in the tip of his nose when he tilts his head, skimming it against your cheek, his tongue is burning hot. His need for you is consuming, completely at odds to the calm appearance he had earlier, and you find yourself falling.

No, you really do stumble, breaking the kiss when your legs go weak and you barely manage to clutch onto his shirt in time before you slide down to the ground.

This doesn't even faze Xu Mo though, who lowers his head to follow you and catches the rim of your ear between his lips. His breathing echoes the pounding of your heart and then you feel him drop his hands from your face to loop an arm around your waist and the other below your backside before he lifts you up.

"Xu Mo!" You startle when you suddenly find yourself weightless and entirely in his arms. You grab onto his shoulders instinctively to balance yourself. "Wait—"

But with your faces at the same level, he kisses you again. You dimly feel him press you against the wall of the foyer before the white-hot surges of pleasure muddles your mind and completely drowns out your thoughts.

You're breathless by the time the kiss ends. Still, somehow you manage to gasp out, "The cake..."

Shouldn't it be checked to see if anything can be saved and put in the fridge? Or if not, thrown away?

"We'll make another one together tomorrow," his voice is low when he responds.

It takes you a second to understand him, because that wasn't what you were asking. He doesn't give you a chance to clarify though as he seals your mouth with his again and takes away your ability to think. His tongue sweeps across the sensitive spots in your mouth, making your toes curl and your legs clench around him, before he turns his head to the side to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck.

Ragged breathing resounds in the space between you two and you can't tell whether it belongs to him or you anymore. But every time his breath brushes against you, it leaves a streak of damp heat and you dig your hands into his shoulders, head falling to one side as his lips slide down your neck.

"May I take you to bed?"

The words are mouthed against your fluttering pulse more than they're said out loud and then he pauses his assault on your senses, waiting to hear your answer. His breathing is heavy and you can feel the tension in his muscles underneath your hands, like his entire body is as taut as a bowstring, but he holds you steadily and patiently.

Your cheeks flush with heat at the direct question but you still nod in permission and then lean forward, shifting your arms so you can wrap them around his back, to hide your face in his neck. When you do, the comforting and familiar scent of grasslands fills your nose.

Xu Mo's arm around your waist tightens for a second before he carries you effortlessly into the bedroom where he sets you down gently onto the bed and then leans forward to cover you, settling a knee in between your legs.

But, having unclasped your arms from him when he put you down, you press a hand lightly against his chest, making him pause. You flick your eyes to the light switch in the room and then back to him.

Xu Mo takes in your red face and appears to understand your insinuation but, much to your surprise, he doesn't grant your wish and instead says, "Let's leave the lights on tonight."

If it's possible to turn any redder, you're pretty sure you're doing it right now. You want to protest but the words catch on your lips when you look at him and realize he's not teasing you.

There is enough light in the room to see his subdued expression clearly but it also casts a shadow at the edge of his features and—maybe this is just a trick of the light—there seems to be a layer of fragility around him. Beside the bed and him is the full length window that faces the trees in the back, with its curtains partially drawn right now, but the sliver of darkness you can see suddenly strikes you with an irrational thought. If the lights were to be turned off right now then would Xu Mo vanish into the darkness? Would the shadows around his edges spread like a drop of ink in water and consume him?

Before you know it, you loop your arms around his neck and pull him down into you, not wanting there to be any space between you two, and he comes to you without resistance, catching your mouth with his.

The lights in the house remain on long into the night.

~~~

You wake up slowly to fingers playing with the bangs on your forehead and the occasional brush of those fingertips against your skin is gentle.

You breathe in deeply, filling your chest with the smell of damp meadow and something cool like mint, before you open your eyes and, as expected, see Xu Mo sitting beside you above the covers in a short robe. He's reading something on his tablet, glasses perched on his nose, but he looks over the moment you stir.

"Good morning," you say, but your own scratchy voice shocks you. You clear your throat, eyes wide, and there's an amused smile on Xu Mo's lips as he exchanges his tablet with a glass of water from the side table and helps you sit up before handing it to you.

"It'd be more correct to say good afternoon."

"Huh!? Why didn't you wake me? We're going to be late!" You barely avoid choking and spilling the water on your pajamas when you hear the time. How can you two get on the train in time if it's already the afternoon?!

"Silly, we canceled our trip. Remember?"

"O-oh, right."

"I also thought it'd be better for you to sleep more. I'm afraid I asked a little too much from you last night," Xu Mo says apologetically, smoothing your bed hair with a hand, before he takes your empty glass to put it aside.

You blink at him and it takes a good second for you to register his words. Then the memories of last night come flooding into your brain.

A creaking bed.

The damp heat that presses against your back.

Bunched up sheets clutched and shifting beneath your hands.

Hot and heavy breaths echoing beside your ear.

Pleasure peaking and taking you under, but just as you sink down he starts to move again, bringing another thundering crest of passion.

Your breathless and weak voice begging for mercy.

A hoarse plea in response, "Stay with me a while longer. Just a while longer."

Ravishment swirling with ecstasy mixed with intensity until you're drowning in an ocean of fervor...

You don't remember anything else concrete. Just flashes of other images and sensations like his hand entwined with yours. The... variety of positions. But now you understand why your body aches all over and why your throat was so dry just now.

Immediately, your face feels like it's on fire and you squawk before diving under the covers. You hear him laugh from beside you, making you reach out to blindly smack at his hip.

He catches your hand in his though and kneads the pads of your fingers. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You were cute. Mm, like a kitten."

You pop your head out from under the covers. "Stop bringing it up!"

But it's not like you're actually angry and you use this opportunity to take a closer look at him. His face is relaxed and his expressions are open; whatever haunted him yesterday seems to be really gone now and his eyes are serene as he gives you a helpless smile.

"Alright, I'll stop teasing you." Xu Mo bends down to kiss your forehead. "Freshen up and come into the kitchen. Didn't you want to make a cake today?"

The distraction works instantly and you ask excitedly, "We have all the ingredients?"

He hums in affirmation and starts to take off his robe to put on a turtleneck sweater, but a strangled noise escapes your mouth when you see all the scratches on his back. Xu Mo glances over his shoulder at you, giving you a curious look, before comprehension dawns on his face and a smile curls on the corner of his lips, "Like I said, you were as cute as a kitten."

You cover your face and sink into the covers again. You feel him pat your leg, but you refuse to move and it's only after you hear him exit the bedroom and head into the kitchen that you dare to raise your head and leave the bed to wash up.

~~~

By the time you make your way to the kitchen, Xu Mo has already set out the ingredients needed to bake a cake and done preliminary preparations. You can't help but pause in the doorway and take in the sight of him though.

He's looking over a recipe on the tablet he placed on the counter and as the afternoon sunlight pours in through the wide windows, giving his white turtleneck a golden sheen, it catches on the dust motes in the air, filling the space with little glimmers. They contrast sharply with his ink-black hair, as if something celestial has spilled onto him, and with the warm light softening the graceful lines of his face you feel like you're seeing something not of this world.

For a second, you're afraid any noise you make will shatter this illusion and the immortal who has descended into your home will disappear.

"Are you planning to watch me do everything?"

Xu Mo's calm voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you see that he's looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, the original cake's fate was because of you..." you joke as you walk over to lean against him, reassuring yourself with his solidity, and take a look at the recipe. "By the way, what happened to it?"

"I'm afraid it was unsalvageable." He accepts your weight naturally and shifts his position so that you're more comfortably pressed against his chest rather than his arm. "I believe today is my birthday though?"

"So you think you should get a free pass?"

"Isn't that the case?" He tilts his head down and his breath caresses your ear.

You clear your throat and fight to keep the laughter out of your words. "I guess we can split the work 50/50 then."

"Thank you for your lenience." You hear the smile in his voice. "Why don't we get started then."

The two of you enter an easy rhythm, pre-heating the oven, mixing the dry ingredients, and mixing the wet ingredients. Occasionally, either you or he will read out the next steps for the other person.

Soon enough, the cake enters the oven and you both switch over to making the frosting. It doesn't escape your attention that there's a variety of food coloring you're sure the kitchen didn't have before though, meaning he must have gone out in the morning to get these. You carefully make a few different shades of colors, already having a general idea about how you wanted to decorate his cake, but you still ask Xu Mo for his opinion on each color. However, he just leaves the ultimate decision to you.

Finally satisfied with everything you've prepared to decorate the cake when it's finished baking, you wipe the back of your hand across your forehead. Even though it's the end of autumn and the start of winter, the temperature in the house is warm and with the two of you in the kitchen, as well as the oven being on, it's actually a bit hot.

You turn to Xu Mo to ask him what he wants to do to pass the time until the cake is finished only to find that he's already looking at you, lips twitching.

"What? What is it?" You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously.

"Silly girl, you got frosting on yourself." He reaches out and uses the pad of his thumb to wipe at your forehead before showing you the purple frosting on it.

You make a startled noise and look at the back of your hand. It's only now that you remember you were testing different shades of purple on your hand because you couldn't decide on one.

Hearing him actually start to chuckle as he turns towards the sink, probably to wash his hand and grab a paper towel for you, you're struck with a mischievous urge and your hand shoots out. Xu Mo doesn't even flinch as you smear a streak of purple cream across his cheekbone though.

You giggle at your handiwork. "That's what you get for laughing at me."

But when he turns to stare at you in silence, you actually start to worry at having taken too much liberty with him. Maybe playing with food wasn't such a good idea. You open your mouth to apologize, only to shriek when he grabs you and rubs his cheek against yours, spreading the cream back to you.

He has an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head to prevent you from pulling away, but before long he stops smearing the cream on you and raises his head to press his forehead to yours. He tilts his head a little, touching the tip of his nose to yours and brushing his eyelashes against your skin, kissing you in every way but with his lips.

"I love you."

There's nothing special in his voice. No emphasis. No emotional intensity. It's just said between one breath and the next, as if it is something that is always hovering between the both of you and only now, through the power of words, has it been materialized into the open and given form.

"Mm, I love you too," you reply.

"Say it again." You feel his lips curve into a smile.

You blink with surprise at his request but answer it easily enough, "I love you."

"I love you as well," he replies immediately, except this time there's a tenderness that permeates every one of his words. "Again."

You hesitate, feeling that he's up to something, but he just brushes your noses together again and his lips skim yours as he breathes out, "I love you."

"I love you too," you unconsciously lower your voice to match his.

In this quiet kitchen, with the sunlight streaming in and creating a golden glow at the edge of your vision that isn't filled with Xu Mo, the world feels like it's shrunk to this tiny space between you two. Even breathing seems too loud for this moment.

"Again," he requests.

Your cheeks start to heat up as each repetition seems to add more weight to the words and you barely manage to whisper out an audible "I love you".

"And I love you."

The hand at the back of your head returns to cup your cheek and your eyes flutter shut as he touches his lips softly to yours. You feel him open his mouth, as if he's about to ask you to say these words again, but the ding of the oven interrupts him and shatters the atmosphere.

You jerk back at the loud noise and clear your throat in embarrassment. He sees your flustered appearance and smiles in resignation before turning to bring the cake out of the oven.

While he does this, you clean up the frosting on yourself at the sink and also dampen a paper towel so that, after Xu Mo sets down the cake on the counter to cool, you can reach up and clean the streaks of cream on his cheek. He bends down to make it easier for you to reach him and leans into your touch, closing his eyes and raising a hand to encircle your wrist.

Seeing this rare look of peace and defenselessnesss on his face, you can't resist sneaking a peck on his cheek along with a quick "I love you" after you wipe his face.

You spin around before he can open his eyes and busy yourself with grabbing the frosting to decorate the cake. Xu Mo laughs softly from behind you and then presses himself against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist, but he's content to leave the decorating to you and simply rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

The cake is decorated in short order (and if you were going off of your memories of the cake you ordered from the bakery, well, that's your secret) and you present it to Xu Mo. "Ta-dah! What do you think?"

He hums contemplatively and the sound reverberates beside your ear, "Unique and it looks delicious."

"Are you making fun of my drawing skills?" You nudge him in mock outrage.

"Not at all. It's unique because you drew it with your own colors."

Your ears redden at the sincerity in his voice and you distract yourself by grabbing a fork and using it to split a small section of the cake off before you scoop it up and hold it out to Xu Mo. "Here, as the birthday boy, you get the first bite."

He accepts the forkful that you feed him.

"Happy birthday, Xu Mo," you say, beaming at him, and then you ask, "How does it taste?"

The only warning you get is the mischievous glimmer in his eyes seconds before he leans over and kisses you.

This year's cake is sweeter than any other cake you've eaten.

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.2)

Warnings: smut!, choking, uhh insecuity maybe??, sub!spencer, dom!reader, talks of bdsm protocol

Length: 4.2k 

Authors Note: heyyy yall. i feel like i haven’t uploaded in DAYS idk why. another chapter of this fic bc i love it a lot but my next fic will be a dom!spence oneshot that i can’t get out of my head lol. this chapter is kinda open conversation

Plot Summary: Spencer can’t stop thinking of you but he’s too nervous to do anything about it. You’ve got doubts that only he can fix and he has questions only you can answer. Spencer really likes being choked, apparently. 

Ch. 1

Look at you baby, your lashes are so long, aren't they? Such a pretty boy," your voice rings out softly in Spencer's ears. A light sheen of sweat coats his chest as he feels your fingers around his dick, his throat caught - words disappearing from him.

"Fuck - please, Miss I'm gonna -," Spencer's voice is broken when he feels an orgasm wash over him.

Then of course, Spencer wakes up. Sunlight hitting his eyes as he blinks himself awake. He can feel it in his pajama pants, still not having registered the content of his dream before he looks down to see the massive mess. It's managed to happen a 3rd time, and its only been a week. Spencer shuts his eye in disdain as he stands up, pulling his pants off and tossing them in a hamper before he heads into the shower.

Spencer hates cold showers, he remember this fact as the water beats down on his back as he washes himself up. He washes his hair while he tries to compartmentalize the situation.

Like Spencer mentions, it's the 3rd time he's had a dream that wakes him up in such a pleasant way. You two had been dating for 2 ish months now, but Spencer chokes everytime you try and take things further. You never give him shit for it, which is more than relieving to him. You always reassure him that the two of you can take your time and that it's okay if he doesn't want it right away.

You were an angel, he knew that for sure but Spencer did want it. He was just, well - as nervous as a person could be. He still hasn't really talked to you about any of that, not about how it would work the first time the two of you did.. it. He didn't even know if you still wanted that - he'd been too petrified to ask if you still wanted to dominate him or if maybe that'd change now that you actually knew him. He didn't even know how to bring it up, or if there was a time for him to do just that. The whole thing filled him with such intense anxiety, he just didn't bring it up at all.

But, he wants to go further with you. He likes you so fucking much - of course he wanted to go further with you. He figured you knew that.

You didn't, really. You figured Spencer found you unattractive to some extent so he just kept putting off sleeping with you. It felt like a juvenile insecurity to have but well - he always reacts so poorly anytime you take this further. You knew he was anxious but there was always that self-loathing voice that told you that it was your fault, that he just didn't find you attractive enough. You pretended it didn't hurt since you like him so much, but it was starting to take it's toll.

On both ends, it was a fucking mess. Neither of you really knew why it was a mess for the other person, but it sure was one.

Spencer gets out of the shower when he hears a knock on the door. His eyes flit up to his analog clock on the wall, you were here right in time, Spencer thinks. He throws on an oversized sweater and some jeans that you bought for him. He liked them but he only really wore them cause you like them so much.

Spencer can't help the butterflies that fill his stomach when he sees you. Your eyes are dolled up in this pretty dark eye shadow, and red lipstick. You're pretty, dark and pretty but still pretty. The makeup was just new. Spencer feels like he's choking as he looks at your smiling expression Spencer shuts the door behind you as he lets you in.

"You ready to get brunch?," you ask Spencer. He dries his hair off and finds something to style it with as he walks back into the bathroom. All stuff that's new that you've introduced him too. He likes using the stuff that you told him to use though cause it makes his hair look less greasy.

"Yeah, but we've got some time before then - right?," Spencer ask. You smile and nod your head as you walk up behind Spencer, wrapping your arms around his waist. He feels small - your actual size unimportant to the way you make him feel. You pat his sweater down, hands dangerously close to his waist as you look at him, eyes gleaming. You give him a small grin when you peak over, as Spencer's eyes meet yours in a small blush. Your hands find themselves underneath his sweater, brushing his waist as you sway into him. Spencer focuses so much on doing his hair, just trying not to get hard.

"What should we do in that time?," you ask, mostly to yourself. You know Spencer probably won't do what you were thinking of doing. Spencer just blushes before shrugging, finished fixing up his hair as he moves away from your touch. You're a little hurt, not tryng to let it show as he walks back out into his living room, you following suit.

"I think they're playing some animal planet re-reruns," Spencer suggests. You give Spencer a small, half-hearted smile.

"Yeah sure," you say softly. You don't mean to be disappointed because you really do respect Spencer boundaries. You don't ever wanna do something that he's not a 100% down for and you just like him so much it doesn't matter. You had to admit though - god, you wanted to fuck his brains out and the fact that he may not return those feelings hurt a little more than your ego wanted to admit. Spencer seems to sense your disheartened demeanor, and with trying to ignore his immediate panic he looks over to you as you lean into him on the couch. He moves away from you for a few moments to look at you, and you turn to him confused.

"Are you okay?," Spencer asks concern. You give him a small smile and nod, taking his hands in yours and playing with his fingers. Spencer looks at you for a while longer before you begin to talk.

"It's nothing serious - it's kinda silly actually, so we don't -,"

"Hey," Spencer pauses. You look up at him, his eyes so full of concern. You can't help the way your heart melts, leaning up to meet Spencer's lips for a second. You look at the clock, still a good hour before the two of you have your plans. You sigh, looking down into your lap before you speak.

"I just wanna say first, that I totally respect any and all of your boundaries regarding sex - and I would never, ever pressure you into something you don't wanna do," you say slowly. Spencers nerves crawl up his back but he waits for you to continue.

"But uhm, well - I don't know, I guess I just wanna know if you still, well or if you ever wanted to sleep with me. Like ah, you know, maybe you found me unattractive. I mean, I get it - I guess I'd uhm, just wanna know beforehand," you trail off, unsure of how to say your comments. Spencers a little incredulous - did you genuinely think the reason he'd been avoiding sex was because you weren't attractive to him? Spencer just shakes his head violently, wanting to say so much but not wanting to scare you away with his words.

"Well, uhm - no it's not that at all. I think you're super attractive, and I defintely want to.. you know - with you I mean," Spencer starts, feeling the way your hand tightens around his instinctevely. This the most vunerable you've been with Spencer in your relationship so he wants to make sure you know how much he cares

"I have dreams about it, like all the time recently. I really like you, and I really do think you're very beautiful, I guess I'm just - nervous, you know? I don't know what to do, especially since we've never done that before and we met under such.. interesting circumstances. I don't know how to approach it,"

"You have wet dreams about me?," you say, a little too excited for your own good. Spencer blushes before nodding.

"Huh, I just openly admitted that didn't I? To answer your question, yes - I had one before you came over," Spencer remembers. You give him a cheeky grin and he hides his face in his head, groaning. You only laugh, pull them away before kissing his knuckles. You were more than pleased to hear this info. You stand and sit down in Spencers lap, hands on the side of his face. He gives you a small, gentle smile.

"It's okay if you're not ready to talk about sex at all, but it may help if we cover general BDSM code and standard. Nothing has to be decided or talked about if you don't want, but maybe just going over it will ease your mind up," you say softly to Spencer. His nerves settles as you continue to reassure him - your behavior is so perfectly soothing. The hand on his back, the softness in your voice and your reassurance, Spencer knew you were experienced but he was still impressed. Spencer just nods, letting you pepper kisses all over his face that made his expression scrunch up. Cute. Spencer was so cute.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Spencer manages to push out. You give him a warm smile. You move away to sit next to him, still maintaining physical contact but clearly becoming more serious.

"The most important thing to know is that everyone practices BDSM differently. There are two common standard procedures that people use, however - safe, sane, and consensual is the most common. It's just saying that both parties are participating in something that is just as it implies, and it prioritizes safety. Knowing you, I'm sure you've read up on most of this, but it doesn't hurt to explain," you say softly. Spencer nods, he did already know a lot of what you were talking about.

"The other is 'Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,' which is where both parties are participating in something they knew could have consequences that are harmful. In both situations - both parties need to be aware and understand the lengths of whatever they're participating in. It's the core of all BDSM practice, and since this is all new for you - let me be clear that your safety and sanity come first to me always. BDSM is a psychological thing at heart so making sure you're okay is firs priority," you clarify. Spencer is in awe by how.. well-spoken you were about it. He knew you were experienced but it was more than you let on. Spencer just nods, unsure of what to say.

"You've actually done this before, but the same goes for me - you know," Spencer adds. You give him a sweet kiss which he returns.

"Thank you, love. With all that, the way you assure someone's safety is obviously having discussions about limits but also by developing a safeword and system to make sure that a scene can stop at any point. It's especially important to make sure that those words are a out of place. You shouldn't use words like "Stop," or "No," as safewords because in some peoples play they refuse something as a part of foreplay or a part of the scene. Maybe a submissive whose being bratty is refusing something but they're okay with it happening - thats when a safeword can come in. If a partner at any point wants to tap out, they use that word," you explain.

Spencer nods in understanding, he didn't even think about people using those words for the purposes of foreplay or whatever else. He gives you a curious look, as you lean back. Instinctively, Spencer moves himself to lay his head on your lap which you'd sorta pavloved onto him. You'd always pat your lap when you wanted Spencer to do it, and at first it was so embarrassing but you'd do it so much he just sorta got used to it. You run your hands through his hair, the other one on his chest. His face is a little hot.

"For me, I like the stoplight system - Red meaning stop completely, yellow meaning slow down and let's talk about this, and green meaning go, I'm totally down for this. I like that system because it's a lot easier to get a sense of how the other person wants the scene to go, and if I want to try something, I can ask my submissive 'Color?,' and they can respond however they like. If they say yellow, I can break character and ask them whats up which can give them some real reassurance. Every submissive is different, but this sytem is really universal and easy to keep up with, " you say lovingly, patting Spencers chest rhythmically. You look down at his expression with serious eyes.

"Listen to me carefully when I say this my love - if we participate in a scene and there is a single doubt about what's happening, you use one of your safewords no questions asked. Using your words with me or any other signals may discuss is so important and it doesn't make you a bad submissive - okay? We are equals, always. Even if you want me to step on you, or call you pathetic - we are still equals and always will be, okay pretty boy?," you say in a stern, but loving voice. Spencer just nods, softly - so far he doesn't have many questions though he's sure that'll change at some point. Spencer nods, leaning his face into your hand as you cup his cheek. You lean down and place a kiss on his lips.

"I know I've been talking a lot, but lemme hear your thoughts, yeah? Anything," you ask Spencer.

"It's weird - I've done so much research on safe BDSM practices and understand all this stuff in theory but it seems so different in practice," Spencer comments lightly. You nod, letting him continue.

"One thing that I did notice was that you use If/When scenarios about you dominating me and I wasn't really sure what that was about. We are girlfriend and boyfriend, doesn't that sorta just imply you are my dom?," Spencer asks. You give him a pat on the chest before you go into explanation.

"It certainly helps that we're dating but you and your submission is something to be earned. We've never discussed in length until today, but of course - I was hoping that you'd want that from me. It's really just like an everyday relationship, but a lot more involved in trust and respect. We have a strong romantic connection which is really lovely, because it builds a lot of that trust and respect that you need to practice BDSM healthily and safely. I wanna lead you so I can see you grow, and hopefully, you wanna submit to me out of respect - those sorts of things,"  you say, playing with Spencer's hands. Spencer just nods, looking up at you.

"Will you be my dom, then? I want you to be. I don't think I could really imagine it being anyone else," Spencer asks out of the blue. You weren't expecting the question so suddenly, or the way your heart rips through your chest hearing it. It's so simple and innocent when Spencer asks.

"I mean, I'd love too but are you really sure? I mean -," you try to think of a reason for Spencer to say no but you really cant. Spencer just smiles at you, sitting up to look at you completely.

"I trust you so much because I know you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose - I mean unless I asked but, you know what I mean. I'm more sure than I was about asking you to be my girlfriend because you're just a trustworthy person. You're smart and kind and lovely all around. I know I'm new to this but theres no one I trust more than you to teach me. I really like you," Spencer says warmly. You wrap your arms around him, avoiding the tears in your eyes. Spencer is so sweet, reassuring by nature and it makes your heart yearn.

"Well, then - yes, I'd love to be your dom. And to answer your question about what we do for the first time, it'll be rather purely vanilla. No hijinks, just regular sex - since it's your first time partaking in BDSM with someone else, we gotta go really slowly so you don't have to worry. It might make you a little impatient but have faith in the process," you explain softly. Spencer is relishing in the fact that you know so much - you seem to have such a tight grasp on what you were doing he had no urges to question you. You lead so naturally, you don't demand anything from him but still, Spencer follows you. Spencer would follow you into the darkness if you kept speaking to him like that.

"We'll discuss things slowly and we'll make it really easy, okay? Once I get to know you a little more in bed, we can plan and talk about our first scene. It takes time to figure this stuff out, you know," You play with Spencers hair as you look over to the clock. 27 ish minutes before you two went out for brunch. Spencer sits up, face flush as he opens his mouth to try and ask you for what he wanted - now that he knew what was on the table his mind was thinking of everything he was missing. All the touches he was aching for you to give him. Spencers eyes were a little lost as he tries to explain to you.

"Can we -? I mean, would you, you know - uhm," Spencer voice can't get the words out. You give Spencer a small smile as he leans back into the couch. You pull your dress up, straddling Spencer's lap, and Spencer's throat dries up. He can't speak as he feels your heat up against his jeans. He's hard nearly immediately, a painful feeling for his dick up against the tight denim. Spencer stares up at you startled, a playful smile on your face. You place your hands on Spencers chest, feeling him up before settling your hands on the side of his face base of his neck. You lean in slowly, breath brushing Spencers ears as he heart pounds against his chest. His body felt a little out of control, and you just seemed to be so comfortable Spencer didn't know how to deal. He's so aware of the where your fingers seem to linger around his neck - he wants to blurt out "Choke me, please," but the words seems to disappear when he opens his mouth.

"You want me to touch you, Spencer?," you ask softly. Spencer nods violently and you can't help but laugh, maintaining eye contact for a few agonizing seconds. You lean in to kiss Spencer as your hands work the zipper of his jeans, your fingers making indirect contact with Spencer's cock. He whines aloud - he's sensitive, apparently. You can't help your pleased reaction as you pull his erection of his boxers - the tip is swollen, you can feel it ache under your touch. Spencer's eyes roll up in the back of his head, despite you having barely done anything for him at all.

"How fast do you think you can get off, baby?,"

Baby. Fuck, Spencer liked when you called him that. It was so natural to you, and Spencer just sighs.

"Fast," Spencer admits, a little embarrassed. He'd never needed to cum that quickly before in his life, yet here you were making him feel like he'd break at any second if you touch him too long. He was an adult but the thought of having sex with his girlfriend made him feel like he was gonna fucking combust.

"I cum first today, hope that's okay with you," you tell Spencer warmly. He gives you a nod, he's more than okay with that. You guide his wrist under your dress, feeling his hands palm through your panties. You moan quietly, and Spencers pleased with himself. It's hard for you to not just tell him to lay back so you can sit on his face - because god did you wanna do that.

"You lead the way," you joke to Spencer, more just telling him that he has permission to do his thing. Spencer just nods, as you lean into his neck to bite hickies into it. Spencers hands are careful with you, two fingers pressed against your clit as he rubs circular motions, his other hand holding your waist steady.

"A little faster, love," you ask Spencer. He just nods as he hears your voice, soft sighs falling from your lips as you feel your orgasm build in your core. Spencer likes you so much, he's so eager to please you in every way so when you finally reach your orgasm, Spencer doesn't hesitate on letting you ride out your high. His dick is pulsating against your thigh, as you finish up and flutter your eyes open to look at him. Spencer gives you a small smile, eyes looking for your approval as you give him a lazy smile.

Spencer watches you pick your bag up from the couch, laughing as he sees you pull out a condom. He gives you a look of surprise and you just shrug, rolling it on for him.

Your lipsticks mostly on but smudged a bit as you kiss Spencer, lifting your hips up before settling back around Spencer's cock. You feel so good around him, the feeling of your lingering orgasm gripping him tight makes him choke. You ride Spencer with ease, hands around the base of his neck. Fuck - Spencer wants you to choke him so bad.

"Choke me, please," Spencer spits out. You give Spencer a look.

"Are you sure, love?,"

Spencer strains for a second, feeling his orgasm coming at him full speed before squeezing out another "please". You debate for a second, but you figure non-kinky couples do this all the time and you tighten your hands around the base of his neck.

Spencer relishes the way the air leaves his lungs and doesn't return. He loves the way you look at him when you do it, the way you adore how much he's under control. He tries to calm down but before he can think, his orgasm shoots up his spine as he looks at you pleadingly. You purposefully clench around him and Spencer's leg twitches underneath you. Your grip on his neck releases immediately and he misses the feeling of you around his neck, cumming into the condom with a heavy sigh.

"I really like you," Spencer breathes out as you cum. You bubble up with laughter as you kiss his cheek, a little red pair of lips sitting on it. He goes to wipe it off but you stop his hand, grabbing his wrist.

"Leave it," you say, an edge to your voice. Spencer can't help but nod, touching it carefully as you slip off of him. You pull off the condom for Spencer, throwing it in the trashcan of his bathroom before heading to his bathroom with your bad. Spencer follows suit, wiping himself clean with a wet-wipe before tucking himself back into his jeans. Spencer watches you fix your makeup in the mirror, as he clings onto you in the mirror.  You turn to him, wetting your lips before kissing that same spot, then using your little brush to put powder on it. You smile, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. He wraps his arms around your waist instinctively.

"Now it'll stay put. And, I really like you too," you say, rubbing his back as he hugs you. He may have been tall but he clings to you like a big baby. It was so damn endearing.

Spencer's heart beats so loudly in his chest. You were so lovely, you smelled good, and tasted nice and were so sweet to Spencer. Spencer liked you so fucking much, he just wanted to stay like this forever and the best part was you liked Spencer too. The way you rubbed his back, soothing him and humming as you gave him the affection he always dreamed of made him feel more happy than he could imagine. When he pulls away and you look at him, you place your hands on the side of his face and smile.

"You're so pretty, doc," you say. Doc - you only called him that when you felt affectionate. Spencer blushes.

"So are you,"

If you two didn't have a brunch reservation, Spencer was sure the two of you would stay like this forever. Not that he really minded, anyway.

[dusk-writes]

favourite wolfstar fic tropes

tagged by @alifeincoffeespoons ! here's mine, in no particular order:

smart Sirius! he's canonically extremely intelligent & I love exploring that aspect of his character; he's reckless & impulsive at times but he's definitely not stupid. Remus & Sirius as intellectual equals working together to innovate & problem-solve is one of my top favourite things.

creative & good-humoured Remus! even as a Professor & after over a decade living in near-poverty, Remus shows a clear sense of humour; he's absolutely not a wet blanket or a stuffy by-the-rules type. he was always a true Marauder and he never lost his sense of fun. he also has a definite sarcastic streak & is a cold bastard on the rare occasions when he's genuinely angry (for instance: the shack scene @ wormtail).

loving & mutually supportive wolfstar!!! they're two messed up people who have been through hell, but their relationship is (and always has been, even before it became romantic) gentle & caring at its core; they give each other the love they won't allow themselves, and they have in each other a safe place to be vulnerable and vent their anger/fear/depression/pain/etc (hey look i love fics exploring their respective mental illnesses & traumas in a way that's realistic & respectful; love doesn't heal but having support makes things easier).

FIX-IT CANON DIVERGENCE, because these two deserve better (i love angst but i'm not here for downer endings okay). I especially like post-Azkaban fixes, because it's peak hurt/comfort.

Sirius is effortlessly drop-dead-attractive (of course) while Remus is striking in appearance but not conventionally attractive. neither of them spend any time on apprearences (sirius knows he looks good without trying while remus is self-conscious & convinced he'll be unappealing no matter what; in school they would both tease James for fussing with his hair so much). also, both of them are Tall (remus slightly moreso but everyone thinks it's sirius) and no one has a moustache.

gay demi Sirius! in particular I see him having some strong aro vibes & Remus is the only person he has ever been with or wanted to be with. also, Remus is bi & had a handful of brief relationships over the years, but he intentionally broke everything off before they could find out he was a werewolf or get too attached emotionally.

marauders' era wolfstar is cute, don't get me wrong, but I absolutely LIVE for Ultimate Slowburn fics where they're only just getting together for the first time after Azkaban,,, just give me decades of yearning & mutual pining & both thinking they have no chance but still having so much care for each other,,, it's my favourite thing (seriously if you know any fics that fit this trope pls let me know bc this one is so hard to find; my collection so far is here)

quality Dogfather content! Sirius in particular is the Best Dad (his dynamic with Harry was my OG Fave Thing abt the whole series); Remus is a bit slower to warm up & less of a natural but every bit as caring. also they both love animals! after the war (which they definitely both survive) they have many pets.

'the Prank' not being a big deal. just Nope. no thanks. not remotely interested in that.

ok i think that's all the important ones; either way i'm cutting myself off here lol

[sparkie96]

If you have the time. I’m curious about a soulmate AU whereLeon is soulmates with Dante and Vergil you can add any other verses to it if you want just to spice it up even more. :D

(Okay, so this is a sort of AU from a Soulmate Idea I had in my head for a long ass time (though originally, it’s for a Chreon Fic). Pretty much, you have the same tattoo or marking as your soulmate, say, a specific marking on your hand. Your soulmate would have the same exact mark on their hand as well. The color is that of a birthmark until you get close to one another. Yours glows a red, and theirs glows blue until you two touch. Then the colors “Blend” and make violet/purple.

Same concept here: Except both of Leon’s forearms are marked up with two different marks. Not Omegaverse, and no incest. 

But now I might write a whole fic for this idea XD)

______________________________________________________

When one is born, they are born with a tattoo. Apparently, their soulmate bore the same exact mark in the same exact location on their own body. The coloration matches that of a birthmark...until they either meet their soulmate or are close to them. When that happened, the mark would glow the color of their soulmate’s, well, soul.  If the soulmate died before they could meet face to face, the mark would fade and the person would be considered “blank”. 

Leon had seen all of that happen in the past, from seeing Claire’s mark fade to seeing Ada’s own blank body. Sherry and Jake’s twin marks glowed a beautiful green when their hands met in China. And then there was Helena at the DSO who’s mark glowed a specific color, glowing a bright yellow when she met Nadia of the BSAA, who’s own mark glowed a bright red when she and Helena danced at that conference last year. When their hands met, the colors bled into each other and made their marks glow a harmonious orange. 

Oh, how Leon envied them, or anyone who had “normal” markings. 

When Leon was born, he had odd markings that ran up both of his forearms. They looked like the bodies of snakes or dragons that snaked their ways down his arms, the heads sitting on the backs of his hands, smacked dab on his wrists. Though the dragons looked to be twins, there were distinct differences between them. 

The one on his right arm had a scarier looking face than its twin. Its teeth and claws were noticeably sharper but its scales were smoother in shape, not jagged like the left one. The eyes were intense, staring into Leon’s very soul. The left dragon had more jagged scales, but the teeth were not bared in anger. The claws were also noticeably duller in appearance. Its eyes were softer, kinder even, but they didn’t meet his own like its twin did. It was like the left dragon was more shy but welcoming. 

What they meant? Who the hell knew, but according to several matchmakers and even readers Leon visited for the hell of it...the markings were unlike anything that they had ever seen. One reader was in awe, saying that he was special. Another had scoffed at their appearance, saying that Leon was either indecisive...or a whore. Leon merely laughed aloud at that before leaving. 

Regardless of what anyone said or thought, Leon was unable to get any real answers for his troubles, left even more confused and conflicted than before. Above all of those emotions...he admittedly was upset. 

What did these strange markings mean? Why did he have not one, but two markings? Did he have two soulmates? Was it just one with strange markings of their own? When would he meet them? He was turning thirty-eight next year...would he meet them before they perished? Before he inevitably fell to this never ending battle against BOWs and the bastards that made them? Chris’s mark had faded on the plane after New York...would the same happen to him? To his own soul mate or mates? 

The thoughts and questions made his stomach churn and the stress got to him after New York, so Leon extended his vacation, despite Hunnigan’s and Adam Graham’s pleas and negotiations. Leon’s excuse was that he was next to useless in this stressful state, so he wouldn’t be able to help them. That, and the BSAA rudely interrupted his vacation, so it was only fair that he take back the time lost. 

So, here he was; in a quaint little diner in a small town called Redgrave. Although the sign on the front had said “Restaurant Fredi”, it looked and felt more like a nice little diner. They had equally nice food, Leon all but devouring his simple breakfast of sunny-side-up eggs, buttered toast and bacon. He also had a cup of orange juice turned into mimosa after sneakily pouring some alcohol into it from the flask in his coat pocket. 

After looking around and surveying the place, he noticed that he was one of few occupants in the diner. Granted, it was still early in the morning and the place had opened up not too long ago, but it was Leon’s cup of tea, so to speak. He preferred the quiet. 

Well, the quiet lasted the equivalent of five minutes until an odd looking crew of ragtags pushed through the doors of Restaurant Fredi. The agent perked up slightly, more so out of pure curiosity more than anything, mainly because he wasn’t one who liked surprises very much. His brain started taking in details once he laid eyes on them mainly because they looked a tad out of place.

The group consisted of five people in total; three men and two women. Two of the men were freakishly tall and wore leather jackets that nearly brushed the floor when they walked. The one had a rugged look to him, a mop of messy white hair atop his head and scuffy, unshaved facial hair on his, well, face. Tired blue eyes merely gave the restaurant a careless once over. He looked like he didn’t sleep much. His jacket was blood red in color, wearing a loose navy blue top and tight jeans that ended at booted feet. 

The other tall man wore blue everything, from his jacket to his vest and even his pants and boots. His own snowy white hair was slicked back and well kept. His face was clean shaven and he looked like he got sufficiently more sleep than the other man. If Leon didn’t know any better...and he didn’t, he could only guess that they were twin brothers due to their uncanny resemblance. 

The third man, younger than the other two, wore a leather coat of his own, but wasn’t as tall as his companions. He also had white hair that was scruffy but clean cut, much like his bare face. It kind of reminded Leon of Chris’s hairstyle of choice, but white. He wore a torn up red shirt and equally torn jeans. He too wore boots and fingerless gloves, Leon noticing that all the guys wore them. He looked like the other two, so Leon could only guess that he too was related, possibly a son, cousin, or nephew to one, or both of the men. Well, a son to one of them. 

The women were equally as odd as the men, though, very good looking. One woman wore all black and leather, wearing a corset with what looked like a lightning bolt shape cut through the middle and tied together with string. Golden locks cascaded down her shoulders and back before ending at her rear. 

The next woman had chopped black hair that was above her shoulders and had the most interesting eyes Leon had ever seen; one eye blue and the other brown. She wore a dress shirt that had either been purposely styled to be cut right before her stomach, or accidentally. She wore black pants and boots too, wearing her own pair of fingerless gloves. 

All in all, they certainly were interesting, at least in Leon’s perspective. The other diners didn’t seem to notice them, or were so used to them that they paid them no mind. So, regulars then, or at least locals. 

“Hey, Dante. Party of five?” The waitress greeted and then asked cheerfully. 

“Dante” was the scruffy looking guy, who merely smiled a friendly smile and gave a nod, “Hey, Cindy. Yep. Decided to treat my coworkers for breakfast.” 

The black haired woman scoffed at that, “More like we’re treating you to breakfast, Dante.” 

“Can it, Lady.” Dante replied, wrapping an arm around her neck affectionately as the waitress led them to the booth across the diner. 

Leon’s brows furrowed at the exchange. Coworkers? What the hell did they do for a living? He feigned interest in his cellphone, occasionally stealing looks at the group as they sat in the booth while also eavesdropping on their conversation. Whether it was out of boredom or genuine interest...Leon would decide later. 

While he continued to eat and scrolled aimlessly through his phone, he picked up little conversations here and there. He gathered that “Lady” was indeed the black-haired woman’s name and not a generic title, the blonde woman was “Trish”, the youngest white-haired man was “Nero”, and the blue clad man was “Vergil”. They talked about different things, but mainly “demons” and other seemingly ridiculous things had Leon not had the experience that he had. 

Were “Demons” code for BOWs? Did these people run a secret group that hunted them like Leon did? 

When Leon looked up again, he noticed that “Vergil” had taken his coat off...and was staring at the blue glowing mark on his right arm. Leon’s eyes all but bugged out of his head. No fucking way…

Vergil nudged Dante, who noticed the glowing mark before his brother even needed to grab his attention, taking off his own jacket and noticing that his own mark, on his left arm Leon noted, was glowing the same shade of blue before looking around at the other diners. 

Leon’s eyes immediately looked down at his plate, his heart beating loudly in his ears like the drums of war. While doing so, he could see that the markings that peaked out between his jacket and gloves glowed as well; the left one glowing red and the right one glowing dark blue. His mouth suddenly felt dry, so he took a swig of his OJ. 

Well, the motion caused his jacket to slide down and expose his left arm, exposing more of the glowing red mark…

...coincidentally at the same time Dante settled his eyes on Leon. 

[kaidans-alenko]

Chocolate kisses

Just a little valentines one shot based in the universe of the long fic i’m working on “willow”  

Summery: Valentines day is coming up and Lily has the perfect plan to win Kaidan’s heart: homemade chocolate

AO3 Link

"Aughhh!" Lily yelled, resulting in a very alarmed  Aiden dashing into their kitchen.  

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

Lily slammed the pan of what he assumed was chocolate down onto the counter, she had been holed up in their apartment all day and wouldn't tell him why "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to bake." She said, glaring at the pan.

"Bake what?"

Lily tensed up "Nothing, none of your business!"

Aiden picked up her pink recipe book, looking at the page it was opened on "Heart shaped dark chocolate...I didn't know you had a boyfriend." It's not like he was privy to every aspect of her life but they told each other everything and after Nate she had practically ruled out relationships.

Lily blushed, yanking the book from him "I don't."

"Then who are you making it for?"

Lily crossed her arms looking away from him "Maybe it's for you and you ruined the surprise."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you always get me flowers so why can't I give you something?"

"You cook for me every year and besides I hate dark chocolate."

"Well then maybe it's for me!"

"You hate dark chocolate."

"Ugh! Listen, did you just come in to interrogate me?"

"No, I came in because I was worried, you're the one being difficult."

"Fine! I'm making it for someone happy?"

"Who?"

"Why does it matter?"

Aiden shrugged "I'm just curious."

"Well...don't be!" She turned him around, pushing him out of the kitchen. "Now why don’t you focus on your own love life and leave me alone." Lily huffed walking back into the kitchen, leaving Aiden standing in their living room confused.

As much as it aggravated her to admit Aiden was right, she was trying to make chocolate for someone and that someone was her fellow soldier and sentinel, Kaidan Alenko. It was stupid, they weren't dating and she wasn't even sure he liked her so why she was stressing herself like this she didn't know but she was bad with words and everyone liked getting chocolates on valentines day right?

Lily gasped, what if he had a girlfriend? He hadn't mentioned anything but he was also a private person so he probably wouldn't have anyway. Lily fixed her ponytail "Whatever, if he puts all my good work to waste I'll kill him, asshole." She grumbled as she went back to work. 

Kaidan shuddered "You okay LT?" Ashley asked.

"Yeah, just a sudden chill." He told her, a troubled look on his face.

"You know they often say that happens when someone is talking about you, maybe Lily is the reason?" She teased. Ashley knew about Lily and Kaidan's respective crushes on each other, her only problem was she couldn't tell either of them. Lily was her best friend and if she wanted her to keep it a secret she would and Ashley was no gossip but damn if it wasn't hard.

Kaidan rolled his eyes "Please, she doesn't even like me."

Oh if only he knew "Then why did you drag me, her best friend on to the Citadel just to pick out a gift for her huh?" Kaidan was silent "if you truly believed she didn't like you, any old box of chocolate would do, wouldn't it?"

"Just tell me what kind of flowers she likes."

"Aiden already gets her flowers."

Kaidan sighed "Of course…"

"She likes stuffed animals though.” Ashley informed him.

"You're kidding." Her? Miss shoot up a colony just because they don't have the time to throw a couple gas grenades. She collects stuffed animals? 

Ashley shook her head "Swear on my life, she has quite the collection."

"If you say so." If anyone were to know it’d either be Ashley or Aiden and he certainly wasn’t about to ask him how to win his sister’s heart. 

"Come on, I'll even help you pick one out." Ashley grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to shelves filled to the brim with pink, red and white stuffed toys.

"They're cute but they all have 'I love you' written on them." He said as he put one back on the shelf.

"Well are they wrong?" She pried.

"I'm not answering that." Kaidan picked up a white dog with red hearts all over it "aren't hearts a little...forward?"

"Kaidan."

He looked over at her "Yeah?"

"It's Valentine's Day, that's the whole point." Kaidan was definitely the endearingly awkward type and Lily was just awkward. They'd be a match made in heaven if they'd just knock it off and be honest with each other.

"Success!" Lily cried out collapsing to her knees on the kitchen floor, exhaustion finally washing over her. She had been trapped in her kitchen all morning and afternoon trying to get this chocolate to mold correctly and she finally did. "I'm never fucking making chocolate again." She said as she stood up "so he better enjoy it while he can."

Lily hummed happily as she set the heart shaped candy into a small pink box, wrapping a bow around it, trying to push the thought that Kaidan may not feel the same way to the back of her mind "It's fine, I'll just order a heart shaped pizza and cry alone while Aiden has a nice evening with Liara It's okay." She laughed to herself, aware of how crazy she probably sounded. She hoped that didn’t happen but she stopped being an optimist a long time ago.

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

Kaidan sat at the table in the mass hall, the stuffed dog he had gotten for Lily laid in front of him, he felt silly as he waited for her to finish getting ready, the rest of the crew was either on dates or at Flux but he had stayed behind to wait for her. Kaidan might have sorta kinda forgot to ask her out on a date so he had to do it last minute when she probably already had one. He was an adult he could handle rejection, it would suck but he’d get over it, he just needed to get it out of the way so he could get over it. Kaidan gently flicked the dog's ear “Hopefully she’ll think you’re cute enough to forget that she hates me.” at least that’s what she liked to tell him, she was aloof one day but flirted with him the next it made no sense, Ashley liked to tease him by saying he didn’t understand women but maybe he just didn’t understand Lily. It’s not that she was all that easy to read.

Lily peaked over at Kaidan from behind the elevator, her hands behind her back holding the pink box containing the chocolate she made for him, he had a present in front of him too, they were the only two left on the ship was it for her? She didn’t want to assume things but she really hoped it was, she had fantasizing all day in between bouts of chocolate related anger. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself she slowly walked over to him “Kaidan?”

He looked up upon hearing his name, breath catching in his throat at the sight of her, he had never seen her in a skirt before and her gorgeous raven black hair was out of its usual tight ponytail and instead tied into a braid laid over her bare shoulders. At the age of thirty-two here he was blushing like a school boy on valentines day because of his CO’s younger sister. When was the last time he was on shore leave? “Lily you...uh...you look beautif-nice! You look very nice…” he said as he stood up to greet her, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Any other time she would’ve teased him but not now, she didn’t feel like it now, it’s not that she wanted a relationship really, she hadn’t for a long time but she didn’t want to have a just sex relationship with him either, ignoring the fact Kaidan wasn’t the type, what she felt for him wasn’t just physical attraction it went deeper and that terrified her. “I uh...I made these for you.” she said, blushing as she handed him the box of candy. 

“You made it?” He asked, surprised as he opened the box.

“Yeah, it’s always a hit or miss with store bought chocolate so I thought i’d give it a try.” she told him as she started tugging on her skirt, the ship suddenly feeling very hot and the more she thought about it the more she realized homemade, heart shaped chocolate may have been too forward.

Kaidan smiled down at her “Thank you Lily, I can’t wait to try them,” he turned around, picking up the dog and holding it out to her “I got you something too, I had heard you liked stuffed animals so…” now it was his turn to blush.

Lily’s face lit up “For me?” she gently took the stuffed down in her hands, looking at it briefly before hugging it to her chest with a smile on her face “I love it, thank you!” Kaidan had never seen her smile, not at him anyway all he got was a smirk at most but not this time, this time she gave him a genuine smile and it was gorgeous. Kaidan didn’t know her history, he didn’t know why she rarely smiled but he wanted to. It’s not like he was big on smiling either but someone like Lily...someone like her deserved to always be happy, to always smile from the bottom of her heart, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it. 

“I know it’s very last minute but if you don’t have a date I would like to take you to dinner.” It had been a long time since he had asked someone on a date, probably before he even enlisted and he hadn’t anticipated doing it again for a long time yet here he was jittery with butterflies in stomach as he asked the woman he had a crush on out on a date. God crush...such a juvenile term for him to use but that was the best way to describe it and for as much as they bickered it was probably a long shot but something deep down told him he’d regret it if he didn’t. 

“I’d love to, I actually didn’t have any plans either.” She was hoping he’d give her some but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. 

Kaidan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding “Great, that’s uh...great.” he hadn’t planned past this mainly because he hadn’t anticipated her saying yes but before he could trip over his words again Lily took his hand, pulling him along.

“There’s a restaurant I've been wanting to try but I haven’t had anyone to go with.” She said, it was an obvious lie, she could’ve dragged Aiden along but she didn’t because she was holding out hope that she’d be able to go with Kaidan, they weren’t dating, not even a little so to have such hope was silly but she was nothing if not a hopeless romantic, a side of herself she hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“What restaurant?” He asked as he was rather willingly led up the stairs.

“Apollo’s? I don’t remember but it’s named after one of those Greek gods, it’s on the presidium I know that much.”

Kaidan chuckled “I’m sure we’ll find it.”

“I hope so! I’m starving Kaidan, absolutely wasting away as we speak.” she said, her tone over dramatic and dragging her feet as if she was about to pass out on the stairs.

It was rare for her to joke with him like this but he liked it and as much as he was getting his hopes up it had him wanting more nites like this but for now he was going to savor this one. The sound of her giggling, something he didn’t expect to hear from her, the sight of her smile, the one she was only directing at him, the smell of her floral perfume, it was light but so very Lily and most of all, the feeling of his hand in hers. Lily’s hands, like the rest of her, were much smaller than his and they fit together like puzzle pieces. He wasn’t about to be sappy and say they were made for each other, he didn’t know that yet but it sure was a nice thought. 

[makemeabeliever]

He moves slowly, deliberately, giving him time to move away. When he doesn’t, he gingerly sweeps a few of the droplets away with the pad of his thumb before pressing his mouth to Johnny’s jaw, catching the tears that seem to deteriorate and melt away at the warm embrace of his lips.

Daniel and Johnny talk it out. aka, the Daniel Apologizes fic that everybody wants, including an emotionally fucked up Johnny Lawrence.  Really proud of this one! Very dialogue heavy, 

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Fated to Love You here reaffirming my long held conviction that no pure romance drama should be 20+ episodes.

This show is... really something. It is, in the fullest possible sense, A Lot. It starts out as an all-out screwball comedy wrapped around a troperiffic romance fluff plot. Wall to wall clichés, but not in a bad way; in a meta, self-aware, peak performance, finest Velveeta way. And if you’re not familiar with screwball comedy, think ‘light-hearted crack fic with slapstick and farce’. There is nothing believable or grounded about any aspect of it, it starts at Bonkers Level: Platinum and it only climbs higher as it goes on.

(On a side note, this results in the leading man being possibly the most memorable love interest in romcom history. His introduction scene is nothing short of batshit insane and you can't reliably predict how he will respond to anything. I have never seen a main character like this, he is all over the shop and utterly singular. Your first reaction to him is ‘wtf?’, your second and third reactions are ‘really?! this guy??’, your fourth reaction is ‘okay he do be mad hot tho’, your fifth and final reaction is ‘I cannot believe this performance exists, I have no idea what he is doing, but it is amazing.’

Appropriately(?) the actor who plays him is an uncanny Korean doppelgänger of Johnny Depp and- between the resemblance, the mannerisms, and the fearless total commitment to a bold as fuck acting choice with the very serious chops to back it up- I’m not convinced they aren’t half brothers separated at birth.

They do sabotage my happiness several times by starting to randomly style his (long, beautiful) hair very weird, fixing it right when the plot is rapidly circling the drain so he looks his hottest just as the show becomes briefly unwatchable, and then ruining him for the entire second half of the series by shearing it all off. WHY, my anguished cry goes up. Why do you do this?! Why does he have like seven hairstyles over the course of the show? Much later they even briefly give him that ubiquitous Kdrama Second Lead haircut with weirdly forward combed fringe in a solid straight line across the brow all the way back from the crown. It looks terrible on everyone and I hate it so much. This version was less bad than most but it is still bad. Anyway.)

So it’s an incredibly fun time to start but there are some problems with the tone and plot even in the first 9 episodes, including when the lovers start getting along really well right away and they’re both thoroughly decent people so there’s nothing keeping them from having a lovely time together making the best of the circumstances (forced/fake marriage). And, instead of introducing new conflict or advancing one of the dozen conflicts previously established and actually moving forward, there is a painfully contrived rehash of something they already dealt with which is then just never resolved. They make the hero leap to a conclusion his wife is nefarious after he’d already decided once that she isn’t (though it was completely reasonable for him to think she was- the fact that he decided to trust her so quickly just speaks to what kind of person he is), never try to find out more or talk to anyone about it, start pushing her away because of it, and have all this come to absolutely nothing. It only exists so he’ll stop being so incredibly nice to her and they won’t fall in love too fast.

You’d think they would have to eventually clear the air before the romance advances right? No. It wasn’t a real plot point, it was just a reset button to get them estranged and hostile again after they connect over their kindred spirits and we’ve spent a bunch of time showing how profoundly supportive and honourable our hero is. He’s being beautifully mature and selfless because he’s a really good dude (unusual for a romcom drama, right? for the main guy to be nice and considerate? to accept responsibility even if he doesn’t have to? Gun’s weird but he’s wonderful), but the writers need him to be cold and standoffish, so they just make him act like an unreasonable idiot for a while. He’s been thus far hugely proactive and direct and honest about everything, it’s one of his most prominent character traits, but suddenly he’s going to avoid confrontation in favour of being super passive aggressive?? Then the writers never solve it. Never! It just goes away. He got over it, I guess? He decided he doesn’t care if she’s a gold digger who deliberately trapped him? God forbid we have motivations that make sense and organic character drama, right? It's not like he didn't have totally valid reasons to be suspicious that could have led to legitimate conflict our heroine would struggle to vindicate herself from.

But anyway, apart from that kind of lazy bullshit, it’s a fine romance plot with extremely endearing characters who have great chemistry. They are fun and well-rounded and incredibly human despite all the silliness and OTT antics. Their relationship is hugely, hugely engaging and the dynamic is perfect, they really complement each other as characters and organically drive each other's arcs. There's the genuine depth and warmth and quiet pathos so often lacking from this kind of show. Things progress at a semi-reasonable pace. They work up to confessing their mutual feelings and get into some cute shenanigans before making out. It happens soon enough that you are not frustrated, but there's still plenty of build-up. Then- uh oh! We’re only 9 eps in and we have another 11 hours to fill with this fluffy plot!

Time for a bunch of absolute fucking nonsense. Time for our show, which has been so goofy and removed from reality it occasionally resembles a Monty Python skit, which has been so light it asks you to ignore the frankly incredibly fucked up implications of its premise for the sake of comedy (they were both drugged and proxy raped resulting in a pregnancy- the FL was a virgin prior to this and Gun had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to- and it was the FL’s family who did this to them: SUPER FUCKED UP), so farcical that it makes Some Like it Hot look like a gritty crime drama, that show to cover a bunch of serious heavy shit.

First, the rankest of melodrama. The families and the world all turn on our couple, but their love is true and will conquer all- UNTIL, he randomly collapses and gets convenient Soap Opera Amnesia. He’s forgotten their entire relationship and a series of coincidental pieces of misconstrued evidence, the machinations of his scheming ex girlfriend, the Soap Opera Doctor’s advice, and his closest confidants all going along with this conspire to make him believe (AGAIN) that his wife just wants his money.

This whole terrible episode is mercifully brief, but it just gets worse after his memory returns. This is where we get into the Noble Idiocy. The ‘pretend you don’t love them to “save them” from getting hurt by hurting them and making their important life decisions for them as if they don’t have a basic fucking right to decide that themselves’ kind. Which goes on for three FUCK years in the show. He wastes three years of their lives they could have spent together because he’s worried he might die young (in a terrible way) and doesn’t want to put her through that. And, of course, they inevitably get together later, so all he did was make it infinitely worse for her either way. To say nothing of how he thus couldn’t be there for her through the loss of their child. Possibly my most hated fucking trope of all time when done this way.

And, yep, you read that right. This show that has the single most batshit bonkers over the top slapstick I have ever seen in a kdrama, this show has a storyline where the fluffy romcom trope accidental pregnancy ends in massive trauma. Because she was standing around in the street after realising he does remember her (he continued to pretend he had amnesia after his memories came back, it’s all part of the stupid noble idiocy so I glossed over it) and gets hit by a car in the middle of their angst staring.

It is nearly Meet Joe Black levels of hilariously abrupt and incongruous.

so, blah blah, they lose their baby (there’s a very stupid whole thing about her telling everyone to save the baby instead of her- the baby is not far enough along for this to have been remotely viable. She is like 3 months pregnant. They all act like there’s a choice to be made between them and she’s mad at her husband for choosing to save her, but there was NO CHOICE. Either she lives or they both die! ffs I’m so irritated about this) and then he dumps her ~for her own good~~ because he loves her too much to make her go through losing him? So she loses him sooner?? right after their baby died???

Why do people in these stories always think being betrayed and abandoned for no reason and being incredibly angry at someone you love while also not getting to be with them is somehow less painful than making the best of your life together and then losing them against their will? ‘I will make her hate me and then she won’t be sad we broke up/I died!!!!’ is such a fucking galaxy brain take and I despise it with the heat of ten thousand suns. Fuck you, Spider-Man. You aren’t protecting anyone, the villains still know you love MJ and will still use her against you, you clod. Emotionally torturing the person you love is not going to make them not a target because the villains are not as fucking stupid as you two. Anyway.

Amnesia was right where I started fast-forwarding and skipping around (because I couldn’t bear it), but it only goes downhill from there. Maybe I would have toughed out more of the wretched middle part plot twist if they hadn’t cut all the hot guy’s hair off. If I’m going to watch total nonsense tedious melodrama, I need it to at least be pretty. I understand it was a Symbolic Haircut but damnit! Let me have this!

And it ultimately does the thing that kdramas seem obsessed with and which makes me want to claw out my own eyeballs with frustration. There’s a giant time skip, the female lead gets a personality transplant, all narrative momentum is lost, and the characters who eventually (at ENORMOUS length) get together permanently are essentially completely different characters with a completely different dynamic than the couple you were shipping for 90% of the story. It is so FUCKING unsatisfying and it is EVERYWHERE.

Not so much with this one because this one still had a lot of very romantic scenes late in the game, but most that do this, it’s also like all the romance is sucked out of the post-time skip episodes and the ending is a consolation prize instead of a triumphant culmination. Inevitably, the heroine abruptly cools off and is suddenly wary of the hero and wants this Important New Career she never mentioned until the penultimate episode but is now her one true life’s dream. What the apparently irresistible appeal is of these contrived separations and demure conclusions is I CANNOT FATHOM. I’m here for the fucking romance guys, you have not made Citizen Kane, please just indulge me with a big schmoopy finale.

And if not that, it’s frequently that there’s been so many random mood swings and so much shitty behaviour by the end that the relationship doesn’t make sense and you don’t know why they even bother to get back together.

I’m not inherently against all misunderstandings (they are the bread and butter of low stakes romance let’s be real) or attempts at noble idiocy from misguided characters, but the duration and seriousness of the drama these generate needs to be in proportion to how ridiculous they are. If your entire plot can be solved by a thirty second conversation there is NO REASON not to have and the continuation of the misunderstanding is a result of someone just NOT SPEAKING UP when any functional human being would have spoken up seven times by now IT’S BAD.

Do little cliff-hangers, whatever, but don’t draaaaagg out silly misconceptions into Shakespearean tragedy, it’s just wearying. It makes me hate the characters for acting like emotionally constipated toddlers with terminal stupidity. If there is so little trust, so little understanding, and so little basic patience between these people, they probably shouldn’t be dating, so try fucking harder, writers. And noble idiocy that is more than an impulse they fairly quickly see the error of is just insulting. You are not helping the other person, you are being domineering and selfish. I have a whole complex about wasting time and seeing endless parades of characters flushing years down the toilet for literally no reason gives me hives. Especially when the whole issue is about time!

(And, btw, so much of the plot is about how desperately the family needs an heir and everyone still wanting them to have kids the second time they get together- while the ~dilemma used to keep them apart is a GENETIC DISEASE which could STRIKE AT ANY TIME. Do you SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS WRITERS????? NO, I KNOW YOU DON’T. ommmmmmmmggggg that’s awful! So they’re just dooming more kids to Soap Opera Brain Disease? And maybe growing up without a father just as Gun did? And no one even considers suggesting adoption??? He never considers that he shouldn’t have biological children despite thinking he shouldn’t have a wife?)

ANYWAY. Please do watch the first nine episodes and the last three, it’s bananas. They are cute as fuck, Gun is The Best, and the tropey romance scenes are top quality. You don't get those things executed so well, it doesn't happen, so you need this in your life. The acting is of a calibre you never usually see in modern romcoms; these are people at the top of their game committing utterly and taking these characters completely seriously. In that way it is pure wish fulfilment for me as someone who loves romance and is almost always disappointed by popular romance media, and thus the show is incalculably special. But skip the middle. Just skip it. It's not worth the suffering. I find the tone whiplash honestly just this side of crass.

I’ve been thinking about it for over a week and I truly love the main characters so it did plenty right, but I just cannot with wedding the two things this show is trying to be together, especially when it goes so hard in two mutually exclusive directions. but also the Meet Joe Black sudden car accident device is not redeemable under any circumstances. Can we never do that again, please.

[demonwifey]

I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader has a think for beetlejuice’s voice. Like a voice kink.

I struggled with it a little bit  because I’ve barely written full on smut before so I hope you guys enjoy. I decided to do a different take and do a succubus reader instead of a human reader.

But still got through it and @paxenera actually got an ask like this as well so go check hers out too!💚💜🖤

Warnings: NSFW +18, succubus!reader 

Word Count: 3,453

After a full 2 weeks in the human world Y/N was finally home. Back to the grim darkness that filled the sky. Back to the eerie sounds of wails and moans on the air. Back to a never ending sight of the dead walking around freely. The Netherworld. Home, sweet home. 

****

And it wasn’t easy being one of the Netherworld’s most infamous succubi. Y/N took the position after having met an early death when she was only 27. She practically lived a boring life when so why not find something a little more exciting and fulfilling in her after life. That’s when her case worker assigned her to work at the hottest Netherworld brothel, Dante’s Inferno. After spending what seemed like 3 months, actually 2 years in human time, she worked her way up to a full fledged succubus. 

Of course, being a succubus came with it’s ups and downs. The upside was that Y/N felt more alive than ever. She had sexual power over desperate men. They made her feel in control in every single way. But that was also the downside. Her victims were only in it for their pleasure. They wanted her to take control as they filled their fantasies of being dominated by a sexy seductress demoness. But sometimes she wanted…less. Maybe Y/N wanted someone else to take control. Maybe she wanted to give the power to someone else.And there was only one man that gave Y/N exactly what she wanted. And his name was Beetlejuice. 

The demon man came into her life just a year after fully becoming a succubus. The two ran into each other at Dante’s Inferno. Y/N was back to visit her old brothel friends and Beetlejuice was there for a good time. He spotted Y/N as soon as he walked in the door and knew he had to talk to her. The other succubi warned her not to mess around with Beetlejuice but Y/N was way too intrigued. After a night of endless flirting, she pulled the demon man into what used to be her old room. And the two were hooked on each other since 

The pair were like ‘friends with benefits’. But friends that had deep mutual underlying feelings for each other that they would never admit. Whenever Y/N was home she would invite Beetlejuice over. While sex was one of their main bonds, they still just enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N loved Beetlejuice’s sweet talk and the ability to make her laugh. Beetlejuice loved her dominant personality and the fact that she always listened to him talk about anything. 

Although Y/N genuinely liked listening to Beetlejuice’s wild stories, she also had her own selfish reasons for being so engaged; she loved listening to man’s voice. Most people in the Netherworld thought of Beetlejuice’s voice as literal nails on a chalkboard. But whenever she heard his deep scratchy voice scream out “Babes!” when he walked in the door, it drove her wild. Don’t even get her started on when they have sex. Hearing Beetlejuice’s voice moan and grunt over her was like she’d been sent to heaven. 

Y/N wasn’t actually sure if Beetlejuice actually knew about her secret fixation or not; spoiler alert, he did. And she always took note at how he’d get more vulgar when telling certain stories. His yelling and swearing louder at the peak of a story made Y/N more aroused than she’d like to tell. And, of course, he’d never complained when she stopped him mid-sentence to attack his lips in a fever-ish kiss.      

****  

Y/N walked out of her bathroom finally feeling refreshed from a steaming shower. Although she loved her succubus title, she hated the stench that would linger after spending a night with a human man. The smell of desperation and sex was perfect in the moment but she wanted it off of her once the high came down. Although many Netherworld occupants didn’t feel the need to follow basic hygiene since they were dead, Y/N did. 

She sat down on her bed and pulled her long coily black hair into a low ponytail. After every feeding, the purple tips in Y/N’s hair would go back to their beaming tint. It symbolized that her demon needs were met. But yet again, her personal needs weren’t met. 

While she was gone, Beetlejuice was also gone. Out trying to find unsuspecting humans to say his name three times. Another one of his far fetched plans that Y/N listened to but never took too seriously. And although both demons were in the human world, they never found time to see each other. Y/N was handling her own responsibilities so she never had time to stop and entertain the green haired demon. 

As Y/N walked into her living room, she looked around for something to do. She was dressed in only her silk black robe and a pair of lace black panties with her breast remaining free. She plopped herself down on the couch and let her brain think. One of the many sources she had of entertainment was Beetlejuice. But he was gone so she had to find something else to keep her busy. Maybe she could just rest and rela-

*RIIIING*

Y/N rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. It was finally her day off and some random person had to interrupt that. Y/N got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Everything in the Netherworld was vintage and antique. Which made the 20 year old in her excited when she first moved in and saw an old landline phone hanging on the kitchen wall. This had better not be those dead football players again, she thought. Y/N grabbed the phone after the 4th ring. 

“Hello~?” Y/N said in her now normal seductive tone. One of the things her mentors taught her was to always answer the phone like she was a sex operator. ‘It adds character’, they always said.   

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to answer their phone.” The all too familiar voice of Beetlejuice echoed through the phone. Y/N felt a faint shiver run down her spine. She was caught up in her own thoughts for a second before clearing her voice and speaking again. 

“H-hey, Beetlejuice. Long time no see, or hear, I guess.” She stammered a bit. Dammit, she was supposed to be one of the fiercest succubi in all of the Netherworld. Yet here she was losing that whole persona over a demon who wears stripes for a living. 

“And whose fault is that, babes? I’ve called you like 100 times and you’ve never answered.” Beetlejuice claimed with a mock snarky attitude. Y/N scoffed.  

“Okay, I’ve been in the human world working. Not all of us get to be free ghosts that come and go as we please.” She shot back, playfulness all in her voice. She then leaned her body against the wall next to the phone. 

“You were in the human world? Why didn’t you tell me, babycakes? I could’ve made arrangements to see you!” Beetlejuice practically screamed through the phone.

“I did tell you, Beetlejuice. You just have very selective hearing when your hands are on my ass.” Y/N explained and the phone grew silent for a moment.  

“…As true as that may be, we are going to disregard that.” Y/N laughed at the demon’s comment. That’s when he proceeded to tell Y/N about the new couple he was watching, the Maitlands. An average, middle class, white suburban couple. Apparently it was almost their time to die and Beetlejuice was going to use them to haunt their house. While listening to Beetlejuice mouth off about the couple, she moved back into the living room. Sitting herself back on the house while twirling the phone’s spiral cord between her fingers. 

“Is that why you called, BJ? To tell me your new master plan? And how are you calling me from their anyway?”

“Oh, the Maitlands have an old rotary phone in their attic. Apparently the husband, Adam, likes to collect antiques. And I called cuz’ I wanted to check on you, duh. Gotta make sure my babes is okay.” Beetlejuice attempted to mumble the last part but the demoness still heard him. Pulling her finger out of the phone cord, Y/N placed her hand over her heart.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Mr. ‘Ghost with the Most’ does have a beating heart after all.” She mocked. This time Beetlejuice scoffed.

“Don’t go spreading it around, kitten. It only beats for you.” Y/N would’ve dived more into that last part had she not been too distracted by the pet name he used. Hearing his scratchy voice call her ‘kitten’ aroused her more than she’d like to admit. She squirmed in her spot on the couch, rubbing her exposed thighs together.  

“Mmm, Beej you know how much I love it when you call me kitten~” Y/N purred out. She began moving the hand on her chest down the front of her body. His gritty voice mixed with the silk of her robe against her body was making her more and more aroused by the second. 

“Getting a little worked up, are we, babycakes? You missed me that much?” Y/N could almost hear him smirk though the phone. 

“Don’t get cocky, Beej. You already know which parts of me missed you.” Y/N’s hand grazed its way down to her thigh, not quite ready to touch herself completely. 

“Hmm, let me guess. That pretty little pussy already wet for me?” And that was it. As his gruff tone echoed through Y/N’s phone, it was just enough to make her go further. She undid the band that closed the robe around her before pushing the silk fabric away and slipping her hand into her lace panties. Y/N slowly grazed her middle finger over the tip of her clit. Chills covered her body as she felt her pussy entirely soaked. She was too wrapped up in her own world to realize that she didn’t even answer Beetlejuice. And he didn’t like that one bit. 

“I asked you a question, babes.” He practically growled through the phone. This caused Y/N’s succubus senses to heighten as her body was beginning to be overtaken by pleasure. Every instance of arousal she’d feel would be boosted by ten.     

“Aaah~ Yes, baby. It’s so wet for you, Beej. Only you.” Y/N moaned as she began to circle her finger around the sensitive skin.   

“God, kitten. You’ve got my dick rock hard right now.” Beetlejuice groaned out. The huskiness in his voice made her get even more wet, if that was even possible. And Y/N wasn’t oblivious. She knew Beetlejuice was touching himself as well. And, God, if that didn’t turn her just as much.

“Ahh, oh Beej~ I need you here. Please, I need you right now.” Y/N begged as the room was filled with nothing but her moans and sighs. She was never ashamed of begging for Beetlejuice, especially when she knew that’s what he wanted. His groans got longer and lower with each word she sighed out.

“Oh, babycakes, you trust and believe I’d be there right now if I could.” Beetlejuice moaned out. He wanted her, of course. He wanted to feel every inch of Y/N with his own hands. But right now, this is as close as he could get and he was going to make it worth her while. “Your fingers are in you, aren’t they?” 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling more pleasure rise to her pussy as she went to slip her index and middle fingers into her wet opening, pumping them in and out slowly. “Mmm, yes. Ah, Beej, baby. And I’m so close.” 

“Good. Now stop.” Beetlejuice commanded. Y/N’s eyes shot back open. He couldn’t be serious. Not when Y/N was getting so close to her desperate orgasm. One she’d been rightfully needing after two weeks.

“No, Beej, please. I’m so clo-” Y/N whined and protested but continued to rub herself. Beetlejuice knew this and wasn’t having any of it. When he told Y/N to do something, he meant it. 

“I said stop, kitten. I wasn’t asking. ” His voice then got seriously stern, making Y/N feel all too timid. The man was how far away but she still felt the need to follow his commands. Although she let out a quiet whine, she moved her fingers away. The lack of contact made her upset but she still did as told. Beetlejuice knew Y/N all too well and he knew when she’d follow his demands.

“That’s a good girl. Now, stick your fingers in that pretty mouth of yours.” The green haired demon spoke. Y/N couldn’t do anything but oblige. She slowly moved her hand from her throbbing pussy upwards. She lifted her fingers to her lips and placed them slowly into her mouth. Y/N let out a long, drawn out,  breathily moan as she tasted herself. Beetlejuice’s groan mirrored hers.   

“Mm, fuck yeah, babes. You taste yourself? You taste how desperate you are for this dick?” Y/N continued to moan at his words as she moved her fingers around in her mouth. “Get your fingers all wet for me, kitten.” 

Demoness just followed suit. She moved her tongue along her fingers to wet them excessively. Y/N let her imagination wander, thinking of them as Beeteljuice’s fingers. Thinking of how he would wet his fingers with her mouth and then slide them smoothly into her aching pussy, while whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Mmmph, Beetlejuice~” Y/N mumbled behind her fingers. She was getting restless. Fantasies could only take her so far before she wanted the real thing again.

On the other end of the phone, Beetlejuice was getting close to finishing himself. He stood in the Maitland’s attic, phone in one hand and leaking dick in the other. He stroked himself roughly, wishing it was Y/N’s mouth around his hardened erection instead. Taking a guess at how she looked in that moment made the man helpless. She was probably sprawled out on whatever surface with her legs propped open widely as an open invitation for him. He listened to her muffled moans through the phone’s receiver intently. God, the people he’d kill to see Y/N in such a helpless position again. Stuck in his own pleasure, Beetlejuice decided he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Okay, babes. Are they nice and wet now?” Beetlejuice asked, ready to give Y/N everything she needed. 

Y/N pulled the fingers from her mouth and a small trail of saliva followed behind them. God, she thought, this was about to be too great. “Yes, baby.” She sighed out. The groan Beetlejuice let out was almost enough to make her come right at that moment. 

“Mmm, perfect. Now put them inside you, kitten.” The demon man spoke though his own moans. 

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. Her body was hot and aching from her paused orgasm. She quickly moved her hand back into her panties before pushing them into her throbbing pussy entirely. Y/N practically screamed out at the missed contact. Beetlejuice growled louder at her scream and that only made it worse for her. She got back into the previous motion of fingering herself, this time more feverishly and without a slow pace. As she curled her finger against her g-spot as she spoke again. 

“Beej, please. I want to come. Please let me come, baby. Oh god, I wanna come just for you, baby.” Y/N begged without hesitation. Her voice was getting higher as she was right on the edge of her orgasm. 

“Come for me, kitten. Make that pretty pussy come for me.” Beetlejuice growled through his husky voice one last time as he was right on the edge with her.

Y/N’s moan could’ve reached all of the Netherworld as she finally got the release she so desperately craved. She arched her back against the couch as her pussy clenched and spasmed against her fingers several times. She grinded her hips up and down on her fingers as she rode out the sensation to its end. Beetlejuice wasn’t far behind as he pumped his dick just a few more times before his cum spilled all on the floor in front of him. Even though neither beings needed to breathe, the both gasped and panted like the wind had been knocked out of them. The only thing heard through the phone were harsh breaths back and forth. Finally, Beetlejuice was the first to speak. 

“Hot damn, babes. We have got to do that more often.” Beetlejuice sighed out heavily. Y/N sighed along with him in agreement. Her body started to relax as she came down from her high. 

“Mmm, believe or not Beetlejuice, I’d actually prefer the real thing.” She spoke while still rubbing below her. On the other end, Beetlejuice tucked himself back into his pants. Y/N also made an effort to get herself together. She removed her hand from her panties before pulling some on the robe back over her. Y/N didn’t even realize how tightly she was gripping the phone in her hand. She loosened her tight hold on the phone and then heard Beetlejuice chuckle on the other end at her comment.

“You and me both, kitten.” Y/N simply smiled at the man’s voice as Beetlejuice grinned on the other end. 

“Honestly, you should just send one of your clones next time. That might make things a little easier.” Y/N joked. That’s when Beetlejuice let out a loud cackle and Y/N giggled with him. “No chance, Y/N. As if I’d let the boys enjoy you without me there.” He joked back. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. She finally fixed her position on the couch back to how she laid before.

“Don’t you think that’s a little selfish, Beej?” She asked while grinning, already knowing what his answer would be. 

“I can be selfish all I want, babes. It’s part of my character.” Beetlejuice said matter of factly and it was Y/N’s turn to let out a loud laugh. Once she stopped the line grew silent between the two for a moment. Y/N turned on her side, clutching the phone closer to her ear. 

“Beej, how long are you gonna be gone for? I really do miss you.” The demoness spoke fondly. Again, the fiercest succubus in the Netherworld, but she would only let her shy and timid side show for Beetlejuice. Once the demon man heard those words, his dead heart ached longingly. 

“Oh, babycakes. I don’t really know. But I promise, as soon as I’m done with these dopes here, you’ll be the first person I come to see.” He reassured sweetly. Y/N felt a small blush creep its way to her cheeks. 

“You promise?” She asked flirtatiously. Beetlejuice let a wide smirk fill up his face. 

“Yeah, kitten, I promise.” He spoke lowly and Y/N felt like she was melting. Before Y/N could say anything else, “Well, I gotta run, Y/N.” 

Y/N sighed with disappointment. “Alright, have fun watching the Maitlands.” She said as she sat up on the couch. 

“I’ll do what I can, babycakes.” The man spoke. 

“Bye, Beej.” Y/N stopped but she wanted to say more. Yeah, she wanted to talk more but she wanted to add something to her goodbye. Something long lasting. Something like an ‘I love you’. But she didn’t. 

She ended with, “You’d better keep your promise.” Before she heard Beetlejuice laugh one last time.

“I will, I’ll see you sooner than later, kitten. Bye.” And with that, the dial tone rang through her phone receiver. 

Y/N sighed and let her body hang loose on the couch. Her hand fell to the side off the couch as the phone hung loosely in her finger. Y/N placed the back of her other hand on top of her forehead before getting lost in thought. She had it bad for Beetlejuice. And one day she was going to have to admit her feelings. Maybe when he came to see her after he was done with the Maitlands. She’d come straight and say ‘I love you, Beetlejuice’. One day she would have the courage to let the words out. Even though the demon man was already gone, all she could say was,  

“Sooner than later, Beej.” 

Thanks for reading💜🖤💚

[nighting-gale17]

If it’s not pushy, prompt wise I really really loved your werewolf fic that you started! Honestly anything more of that would make me soft. PS you’re #writergoals

Ahhh I’m so glad you liked it! Honestly, I got such positive feedback from that fic it really surprised me. So here’s part 2!!!! 

As always, send in your prompts :) I love writing the stuff you guys send me!

Here’s Part 1

He saw the signs but he ignored it.

It was like seeing his sister again ripped open the scabbed over wound in his heart. The ache in the center of his chest seemed heavier than usual and the loneliness he often found easy to ignore was insistent on demanding his attention. It smothered him. It made him struggle for every breath—wolves couldn’t cry and Buck hadn’t been human in so long he wasn’t sure he remembered how. So instead, at night, when the half-moon was at its peak, he howled out his pain and misery.

Buck spent several days hiding from her pack. He was angry at his sister—he still believed she abandoned him on that day, allowing that monster to completely ruin any semblance of normalcy the two of them had desperately tried to obtain without a pack. And now she was pregnant with his child. It’s been around twenty years—how many more of his children had she had in that time?

It was difficult for him to stay away for too long. The fragile, tentative bond he had created with Christopher was the closest he’s had to a pack bond for a long, long time and when he felt it tugging him towards the boy he couldn’t ignore it. 

He slunk silently through the undergrowth near the edge of the Pack’s territory, his ears up and alert as he looked around for Christopher. He could tell the young pup was nearby, the excitement through the bond was practically impossible to ignore. He scanned the surrounding area, his eyes landing on two figures standing and talking quietly while Christopher played around in a shallow creek.

He sniffed the air, his ears flattening nervously against his head when he recognized the scent of Christopher’s father Eddie, and the other man, who Buck could tell was the Alpha just by the raw power he was radiating even from this distance.

The man’s presence made Buck nervous, and he almost turned tail and ran in the other direction if it hadn’t been for Christopher perking up, apparently sensing he was close. He yipped into the air, circling Eddie and the Alpha, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt.

Slowly, Buck slinked out of the undergrowth. He was still wary around the Alpha, but he didn’t see or smell Maddie’s presence anywhere and he supposed that would have to do for right now. He let out a huff to announce his presence a few feet away, tail swinging uneasily behind him.

Bucky! Christopher’s voice in his head was a welcoming surprise as the little pup barreled towards him as fast as his feet would carry him. You came!

I promised, didn’t I, buddy? Buck answered him, nuzzling the top of his head and bumping their noses against each other affectionately. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over how odd it was to speak with someone again—it had been so long.

“We weren’t sure you would come this time,” Eddie said as he walked towards them. His hazel eyes glimmered curiosity and— something else Buck wasn’t sure. “Maddie—” he cut himself off when Buck snarled lowly at the name, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“Hey, enough of that,” The Alpha warned, his eyes flashing red and a frown forming on his face as he stepped up next to Eddie.

Buck abruptly stopped and looked away, his ears flattening against his skull in a small sign of how uncomfortable he was. The Alpha made panic claw at his chest and he had to fight against the instinct to run away again. He tried to remind himself that this Alpha wasn’t him but—it was difficult.

Eddie cleared his throat. “She told us about what happened. She wanted us to tell you that she’s not with him anymore.”

Too little too late, Buck thought to himself bitterly, sitting down on his haunches and huffing. He flicked his tail back and forth, absently entertaining Christopher while his stare flicked back forth from Eddie to the Alpha.

“Why won’t you change back?” Eddie asked, his annoyance obvious. “It’s difficult for us to talk to you like this.”

I’ve already told you that I can’t, Buck muttered to himself, a low growl leaving his throat.

Christopher must have been reiterating his words because he saw Eddie’s frown deepen from annoyance to concern. “You said that last time. I’ve never heard of a wolf who couldn’t change.”

“I have.” The Alpha spoke, looking at Buck with an intense gaze that wasn’t hostile, but still made Buck shift uncomfortably underneath the weight of his stare. “Omegas traditionally struggle to maintain their hold on their humanity without the bond a Pack provides. If Buck has been Packless for as long as Maddie claims, that would be why he can’t change back.”

Buck didn’t know that. God, there was so much that he didn’t know. He just assumed that since Maddie left—since the emptiness took up the spot where the bond used to be—he’d never had any need to be human and had just altogether forgotten how.

It never occurred to him how lost in his wolf he had gotten.

Bucky can join our Pack! Christopher chirped, momentarily distracted from his battle with Buck’s tail.

Buck felt all of the breath leave his body at once and his brain seemed to freeze at the suggestion. Christopher’s declaration seemed eager and genuine; he had no idea the weight his words held as he went back to chasing Buck’s tail.

Being a part of a Pack… it was a hopeless dream Buck had been chasing since he was a pup. he’d always dreamed about having a large Pack to take care of him and Maddie— they’d always have enough food every night and they would never have to go to bed cold because they would have an entire Pack keeping them warm. They wouldn’t have to live in fear every day that a larger predator would find them and hunt them down because they were too young, too weak to protect themselves.

He’d always dreamed about having siblings to chase after and play with when he was lonely because Maddie was out hunting for them. Buck longed for the safety and protection that came with Pack. 

But that’s all it was—a dream.

He had no idea how real Pack dynamics work. The only Packs he had ever encountered had been terrifying and cruel to him because of his omega status—he wasn’t a part of a Pack and it was something they could smell on him. He knew he would never belong. The idea of joining a Pack was thrilling and terrifying, yet the only reason he didn’t run away again was because of oblivious Christopher chasing his tail.

“He did save Christopher, and they’ve already bonded, Bobby,” Eddie murmured to his Alpha, glancing over at the older man. “And Maddie has been desperate to get him back.”

The Alpha, Bobby, looked thoughtful as he considered this. It was a big deal, Buck knew, to accept an outsider into a Pack. There was never a guarantee that they would fit within the Pack dynamic or be trusted by the rest of the wolves. No one had ever wanted Buck to join their Pack—no matter how many times as a pup he had tried and begged and failed. He wasn’t good enough, he accepted that, which is why he was shocked when he heard Bobby’s next words.

“If he wants to, I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” Bobby said, smiling a little at the shocked look on Buck’s face. “Your sister is our family, so you’re our family too.”

Buck pawed anxiously at the ground, trying to dispel some of the irrational panic he felt. His indecision should be proof enough he was too broken to cohesively join a Pack—what kind of wolf balked at the chance to join such a large, welcoming Pack? He felt his tail instinctively tuck slightly between his legs as he lowered his head. He was just—

He was scared.

Christopher whined a little at his sudden drop in mood and walked around Buck to nudge his little nose against the side of Buck’s mouth. Why are you scared?

Buck licked the top of Christopher’s head comfortingly. I’ve never been in a Pack before, baby. I’m just scared they won’t like me when I make mistakes.

That’s silly. Christopher pawed at the edge of his snout. Daddy says everyone makes mistakes and that we just have to do better next time.

Your Daddy sounds really smart. Buck rumbled, glancing up briefly at Eddie and Bobby, who were watching them curiously, before turning his attention back to Christopher. He wished he had the boy’s blind faith in the world. But I’m not sure, buddy.

Christopher stared up at him with those round, blue eyes, his head tilted slightly in concentration before he let out a yip of excitement. What if you just stay for a little while? And if you like it, you can stay forever! 

Buck hesitated, the anxiety swirling around in his chest when Christopher turned around to Eddie and Bobby and presumably told them the same thing.

“If that would make Buck feel better, we could work with that.” Bobby agreed a small smile on his face when Christopher yipped again, his tail swinging excitedly from side to side as he stared up at buck with pleading blue eyes. 

Buck thought about before he found Christopher—the lonely days and nights, the cold winters by himself, the terror of being chased from his home by other Packs or predators he was too weak to stop alone. Then looked down at Christopher and saw those pleading eyes, felt the small blossom of warmth his bond with the pup took up in the vast hole in his heart.

He wanted to feel whole again. He craved it—more than anything. More than his mixed feelings towards his sister, more than his fear of Alphas. He wanted a home. He wanted to belong.

He wanted a family.

Okay. Buck agreed, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Christopher’s head. I’ll give it a try.

[rayesketchit42]

When you befriend the king part 5. Final. 

“Home”

Oc Fic| DarkWing Duck 91’ universe.Zeke Corvo and Dave “dorky” Curant @dorky-crow

Mentions of abuse, and suicidal thoughts 

 A/N: Some culture shock for the dracula parrot. There is more to come this is just their start. But as for this story its at its end next time we see these two will be more romantic~ 

____________________________________________________________________________

"So zeke I was wondering, since the weekend is coming up if you would like to come over to my place."  

Dave had suddenly asked Zeke, though the way he went about it seemed very rehearsed. Zeke kind of smiled when seeing Dave mentally prepare himself beforehand. Mumbling some pep talk to himself under his breath.  

"You want me to go over to your place?" Zeke asked Dave to give him some slack.

The little black bird simply nodded in response as he nervously fiddled with his fingers. Finally daring to look up at Zeke waiting for his answer. 

"Well I don't see why not." 

"Re really?" Dave asked smiling brightly 

"Do you think I'd really lie to you?" Zeke egged on a bit as he leaned down to look over Dave.

Dave just smiled even brighter, if that was possible. 

"That is gonna be great! So um tomorrow is okay then right? My mom said she’d cooked something special" 

Zeke just smiled more listening to Dave ramble on. He hated to admit it but it was kind of cute the way Dave used his hands to talk the more excited he got. 

After sometime he was cut  off by the  honk of a car. Dave said bye and took off after giving his address to Zeke. Zeke watched him climb into the car where he was greeted by his father. The latter happily greeted Dave in and even ruffled up his hair before driving away. 

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

Dave was quick to answer the door when Zeke knocked on it, though he saw him watching out the window the whole time he walked up the driveway. Dork. 

“Zeke hi welcome! Oh uh come in!” Dave said his excitement basically poured out from every word as he stepped back to let Zeke enter. 

Zeke just nodded and walked into the house, it was small. Unlike the house he grew up in but it had a much different feel to it then Zeke’s place, the word just escaped him on how exactly to describe it. Before he could think more the little black bird grabbed Zeke's hand and pulled him along into the small living room, where two others were sitting Dave’s parents. Zeke had seen his father before from when he would take Dave to and from school. This was the first he ever saw of Dave’s mother though They were sitting and talking together when Dave dragged Zeke into the living room. Both turned their attention to the two boys. They seemed to smile just as brightly as Dave had been since Zeke showed up.

“Mom, Dad this is Zeke!” Dave nearly shouted out as he was failing to hold in his joy.

“Ah Zeke so good to finally meet you” Dave’s father said as he got up and walked over to Zeke offering his hand out to the young parrot. “Dorky tells us so much about you when he comes home from school. We’ve been dying to meet you.” His mother chimed in as she got up as well and lovingly hugged Dave. 

Zeke just blinked; this was all unnatural to him. He reached out and shook Dave’s dad hand, his  hold was so warm and gentle, so odd. The way Dave’s mother spoke was so sweet and kind, so forgien. Dave just smiled as his dad commented on Zeke’s grip playfully saying something to Dave about how he needed to learn to improve his own handshake. 

They were so abnormal. Or was this normal? This was nothing like Zeke’s home life, as the three of them talked Zeke took a moment to look around the place. The furniture was a bit mismatched not all from the same set but worked together at least. The walls were full of family photos; there was even a picture of Dave as an egg on the wall. An assortment of nicknacks and other decor placed a bit randomly definitely not decorated by a professional at all. There were books and papers and other items laying out and about, it was easy to tell this place was lived in. He then looked back to the family a bit thrown off when seeing they were all staring at him now. 

Shoot they were talking, did they say something to him just now? Zeke tried to see if he could figure out what they said. The parents expressions were a bit harder to read but Dave looked like he was hoping for a yes. 

“Yes?” He gave hoping that would work out.

“Oh good I made up a cot for you just in case” Dave's mother answered with 

Wait what? Zeke wondered after she said that. 

“You kids can even watch some movies all night if you like. Dorky and I stopped yesterday to rent some for you two.” Dave's dad added in.

Oh shoot I agreed to staying over just now.

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

“Oh and this is my bathroom since mom and dad have one in their room” Dave explained, he was giving Zeke a tour of the house. Making sure to share every little detail of the place.

Zeke just followed him quietly still at a loss of the situation he was finding himself in. The living room was one thing but the whole house was the same. There was even one of those size trackers on the wall of the kitchen. Zeke had seen in tv shows before, he thought that was just a tv thing but seems some people actually do that.

Dave continued on with the tour of the bathroom and Zeke just thought about his own home compared to the Current family. It was huge with tons of space and rooms, that now didn’t seem to be as full as their house was. All the furniture was imported and made top of line every single roomed matched in style and look. Unlike this house, the walls of Zeke’s home were bare, only studies or meeting rooms had portraits hung up. They were so stiff though unlike the picture of Dave dressed up for halloween in a homemade costume his mother made him. You couldn’t even tell there were kids who lived in Zeke’s home. No evidence of toys or even a place to hang up their backpacks when they got home. 

Dave led Zeke to his room as the final destination of the tour. It was pretty much what Zeke expected it to be. It seemed like his parents decorated especially for him, the walls were painted differently than the rest of the house, he had a bed full of stuffed animals and more personal looking furniture. Seemed Dave tried to clean it up a bit but there were still some messes here and there. Dave mentioned something to Zeke that he didn’t catch and quickly ran off. Zeke just walked into the room and looked around more. It was cute and childish. 

Zeke's room was so bare he had a bed and a desk in his room but it didn’t have ugly brown carpet with a juice stain on it. He didn’t have shelfs full of stuff he owned or glow in the dark stars stuck to the walls. This was such a weird place for Zeke, yet somehow familiar to Zeke he just couldn’t understand why. The whole place and even Dave and his parents, it was.

“Warm.” Zeke said out loud, finally finding the right word. Nothing like Zeke’s home. A place he was meant to belong but didn’t. He didn’t belong here either just standing in this room, he was ruining it. He should leave and go back to his house where things made sense. 

Logically he knew that wasn’t true, the way his family was, wasn’t normal his home wasn’t a home it was a business at best. It used to be different, Zeke knew that it used to feel warm too. Zeke would run in from school and hear the laugh of his grandfather echo in the halls. Zeke always had a place to be when he was alive. That loving affection Zeke saw from Dave;s parents he used to have that as well at one time. It had only been now three months since his death but suddenly it seemed to really hit Zeke on how much he missed him. 

“Zeke are you okay?” Dave’s voice cut through his thoughts softly as he could feel the little bird’s hand on his shoulder. 

Zeke opened his eyes he didn’t know were closed shut, able to feel the tears that were running down his cheeks. He was just looking over to Dave who gave him a genuine look of concure. Why, Zeke wondered. No one cared about Zeke not since his grandfather passed away. His brothers would be happy if he was gone. His mother wouldn’t even know if he was gone. His dad, his dad would be absolutely delighted if Zeke just dropped dead one day. That didn’t seem like such a bad idea though, then maybe there was an after life he could be with the only person who cared about him. 

“It’s okay you don’t have to tell me what it is but I’m here.” Dave said again 

Zeke dropped to his knees and slowly sat down, unable to stand up any longer.  Dave sat down next to him on the floor not showing any signs of moving away from Zeke’s side. Thinking of it that was just how Dave always was with Zeke. Always stayed next to him, even when he beat up kids or scared them away. Dave never got scared of Zeke himself. If Zeke wanted to sleep during lunch Dave made sure to wake him up. When did Dave become that to him Zeke wondered. As his tears seemed to get more heavy Zeke hadn’t felt alone since meeting this kid. 

“I’ll stay right here Zeke, promise.” Dave said again as Zeke realized he grabbed the small bird and pulled him into a hug. 

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

“Sorry about that,” Zeke said as he and Dave were laying down watching the movie Dave picked out. It was something with a princess who was locked away in a tower. 

“You don’t have to be sorry Zeke, I’m sorry if we did anything that upset you.” Dave answered peaking over his bed to look at Zeke. 

Zeke just shook his head, the comfort of the place and how safe it felt was what did it to him, but he wasn’t going to admit any of that. It  was bad enough he couldn’t deny the crying. He would rather die than admit the hugging too. Zeke felt so stupid for that break down and yet.

“Hey,” Zeke said as he  sat up so he could look over to Dave. “While back you asked if we were friends right?”

Dave nodded to answer Zeke.

“Well. Are we?” Zeke asked this time around.

Dave’s eyes widened and he sat up smiling at that question, nearly tossing his covers right off from how fast he moved. 

“I um yes I mean of course, least I think of you as a friend..well my only friend but I mean your like the bestest friend to have so”

Zeke just smiled as he rambled on. “Good I, well I like having you as a friend too. I’d like to come over again too if thats ok”

“It’s  definitely okay!” Dave cut him off happily to answer 

Zeke smiled and laid back down. It might be a weird environment but Zeke was taking a liking to it all. 

Zeke left the next day Dave happily waving goodbye to him and his parents wished him goodbye. Dave’s mother made sure he had everything he came with and hoped he ate enough for breakfast. While his father kept offering to give him a ride home he didn’t like the idea of a kid walking by himself in the city. Zeke finally assured them all he was going to be fine before finally leaving. He knew he’d be in for it when he got home since he never said he would be gone all day but Zeke felt he could handle any hits he would receive because right now he felt lighter. The heaviness he had been carrying was no longer there anymore.    

[satonthelotuspier]

How Shall We Stop Dreams - Part 2

Second fic post of the night.

This fic now has a title. This is a continuation of the AU I posted a sneak peak of a couple of days ago. I’ll go back and pop the AU tag and title on Part 1 so click the tags if u missed etc.

I made Wen Qing talk so much but exposition.

Wei Wuxian stretched out in delightful relief as his muscles, tight and aching from the journey from Yunmeng, slowly relaxed.

“This was the best idea I’ve ever had” he sighed resting his head back against a rock on the side of the large pool.

“Whilst I admit it was a very good idea, it’s hardly had much competition” Jiang Cheng mocked him, mirroring his pose in relaxation.

It was only then Wei Wuxian noticed the boy that was perhaps a little younger than Jiang Cheng huddling at the other end of the pool; he must have been here when they entered but neither had noticed him. He was slim and graceful, perhaps a little shorter than either of them and from what Wei Wuxian could see above the water his fair skin was littered with bruises in varying states of healing.

“I’m Wei Wuxian, this is Jiang Cheng, I’m sorry we didn’t notice you before”

They waved off any attempts he made at formality so he eventually introduced himself without fuss. “I’m Mo Xuanyu”

“Which Sect are you from? We’ve only seen the Lans so far” Wei Wuxian asked him curiously.

Mo Xuanyu’s eyes darted away, “I’m not with any sect. I have no aptitude for cultivation”

Whilst he was intelligent enough to know that was probably not the whole truth Wei Wuxian changed the subject, not wanting to upset him when he already looked so sad. Wei Wuxian had been blessed with a talkative, embracing nature and other people naturally wanted to be his friend; as time passed the younger man seemed to relax in their company a little, even giggling at some of the bickering Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng engaged in and joining into some of their conversation.

The happy relaxed atmosphere was brought to a swift close with the arrival of an unwelcome figure.

Wei Wuxian curled his lip as his Shijie’s fiance entered the hot spring. Surprisingly it was the young Mo Xuanyu who climbed out of the pool and left quickly at Jin Zixuan’s appearance.

That answered some of the mystery of Mo Xuanyu, Wei Wuxian thought; he had to have a link to the Lanling Jins.

That man scaring his new friend away also made him even less disposed to give the peacock Jin Zixuan the time of day; sensing this and wanting to cause as little trouble as possible Jiang Cheng grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the pool too. “It’s time we went back” he informed Wei Wuxian firmly.

***

Lan Wangji closed the door of the house he and his brother had been assigned behind the Wen Sect servants who had come to clear away after their dinner. His enquiries had informed him each lodging house was supplied separately at mealtimes for the moment with the intention of a large gathering presently when it was judged everyone who wished to answer the Wen Sect’s decree had arrived.

He reached into his sleeves to withdraw several silence talismans which he placed at the doors and windows and should easily override any listening talismans the Wen Sect may have placed in the lodgings of their guests. He judged it was overcautious but no one ever suffered from overcaution.

He moved to join his brother at the table as Lan Xichen prepared tea.

“Xiongzhang-”

“I’m fine Wangji” he placed a cup in front of Lan Wangji then poured one for himself. “I’ve done a little casting but there’s nothing much of note. I’m not here as an empath after all, I didn’t expect to find it particularly useful” he raised the cup to take a drink, “Wen Qing is worried. But I suspect she is being used as a pawn in whatever the main branch Wen’s are planning. There’s something I can’t quite recognise too; its not human but it is sentient so it’s very faint. It’s…hungry. Not like a man at a feast. More like...something empty, it wants to connect, to feel, to-” he broke off and pinched at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to settle his mind. Lan Wangji had summoned his guqin, removed the disguising talisman he’d placed on it back at Cloud Recesses and begun the soft, soothing tones of Song of Cleansing at the first sign of Lan Xichen’s distress and the other allowed the cascades of sound to wash over him and clear his mind.

Having already pushed his brother on the issue of how dangerous it was for him Lan Wangji held his tongue on the worry that something that he had claimed was so faint had caused him such disquiet. He would have to increase his own watchfulness.

“Xiongzhang should use only conventional Lan cultivation now”

Lan Xichen didn’t dispute his advice.

***

It was several days later when they were invited to a large feast to discuss the Wen Sect’s plans with regards to what was happening.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng had spent the days between exploring, night hunting out in the Qishan forests, practising their archery and sword forms and generally horsing around. They saw little of any of the other Sects in the interim, although their fellows must be undertaking the same kinds of activities to pass the time.

Wei Wuxian made the point of visiting Mo Xuanyu and inviting him along on their various adventures. Sometimes he agreed and would accompany them, other times he declined and seemed set on spending the day in his lodgings.

Mo Xuanyu was a strange young man, sometimes melancholic and sometimes lively and engaging; Wei Wuxian thought he probably suffered a lot at home, especially when he thought about the bruises he’d seen in the hot springs, so he was determined to make the boy’s time here in the Nightless City better. He had also discussed with Jiang Cheng the subject of sending a message to Jiang Fengmian, Jiang Cheng’s father and the Jiang Sect head, to enquire whether it would be possible to invite Mo Xuanyu to be an outer disciple of the Jiang Sect.

Jiang Cheng had blustered as was his usual reaction but he did have a kind heart under all that sarcastic defence he projected, and he agreed.

It was true Mo Xuanyu had no innate aptitude for cultivation; that being he didn’t have the same natural ability as Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng, but few did, certainly no one else in their Sect came close to matching either of them. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a worthy addition and be able to progress at his own speed given time and effort.

That night at the feast they saved a spot at their table for Mo Xuanyu. They were also joined by a young female cultivator who wore a pink outer robe. She introduced herself as Luo Qingyang.

Mo Xuanyu was able to see first hand what a terrible flirt Wei Wuxian was over the evening meal; Luo Qingyang was less than impressed and Jiang Cheng just ignored it as usual behaviour for Wei Wuxian.

The conversation went well enough between the bouts of flirting, but Jiang Cheng noticed the cold looks one of the Two Jade’s occasionally threw their way. Although considering his default look was cold and aloof, it probably didn’t mean anything.

Wen Qing, who seemed to be acting as the Wen’s public face in this matter spoke to the assembled guests that night.

“As you know we’re eager to find out the cause of what’s happening with the nightmares affecting cultivators all across the sects as we speak. The Wen Sect has invited you all here in the hopes that by studying this together, collecting all the information we can from you all, who are suffering just as our own disciples are, we’ll be able to find answers and solutions to this unprecedented happening.

“We ask that if you do experience one of these nightmares you make note of what you can remember when you wake up, the people you dream about for example, what happened in the dream, how you felt, how you felt when waking, did it make you nauseous, anything it strikes you should be noted down. All your lodgings are fully equipped with writing materials which will be kept well stocked during your stay” she began to pace, and Wei Wuxian thought that while she was very eloquent and seemed to speak genuinely, her pacing was to channel some negative emotion, maybe she was worried about a relative who was experiencing the nightmares too.

“I’ve identified some questions I’d like to ask you all so we may identify any similarities which we might be able to draw links from, and there are some tests I’d like people to take part in. They’re nothing harmful, and our own Wen disciples have already undergone them. However, everyone is here voluntarily so if you’re uncomfortable with anything you are under no obligation to submit. Similarly, if I judge the stress of the tests too much for you I will request you return to your home Sect for your safety.

“As this is obviously a very large undertaking and I will be overseeing it personally as the Wen Sect’s head physician I request that you please be patient with us. We will provide food and lodging for as long as needed to achieve everything we hope.

“Finally, thank you all for making the journey, I do believe that with your help we can all get the answers we so dearly need”

Luo Qingyang turned back to her companions after Wen Qing had finished, “The Wen Sect are putting a lot of time, effort and gold into this”

Wei Wuxian agreed and emptied his wine cup.

“I wonder if they’re really acting purely out of altruism” Jiang Cheng murmured softly, so only their table could hear.

“What could they hope to achieve if not?” Mo Xuanyu asked quietly, a frown on his face.

“I don’t know” Jiang Cheng shook his head, then drank up the dregs of his own wine cup, “We should get some sleep, it’s getting late” none of them noticed the Two Jades spare them quick looks.

***

Lan Wangji went through the process of placing silence talismans through their house again as he did whenever they had things they wished to discuss related to the Purpose.

Once assured their speech would be sealed away he returned to sit across from his brother again, who poured tea.

“The young lady is, I believe, Luo Qingyang, a member of the Lin Sect” he informed, “She seems careful and calm like late spring. The boy I know nothing of, I heard him introduce himself to Luo Qingyang as Mo Xuanyu”

Lan Wangji, “Was there not a guest cultivator at Lanling Jin a few years ago of that name? An illegitimate child of Jin Guangshan’s?”

Lan Xichen thought back and nodded slowly, “It’s very possible. He is kindling, raw and dry and ready to ignite at the right spark. The two young lords are of the Jiang Clan and exceptionally talented young cultivators, the man in purple with the burning eyes is Jiang Fengmian’s son Jiang Wanyin, he is fire and ice in equal parts, touch either and he will burn you”

Lan Wangji was about to question his brother what he meant by burning eyes when Lan Xichen’s next words shocked him to silence.

“The young man in black is Jiang Fengmian’s ward, son of Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, Wei Wuxian”

Wei Wuxian the name washed over him like the incoming tide; all powerful and trying to suck him down into the undercurrents.

Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian.

The name echoed through the vaults of his mind, a name he had heard whispered all his life in his dreams.

How could that be Wei Wuxian? So frivolous and a shameless flirt.

He didn’t need Lan Xichen’s special ability to read people to know how he’d describe Wei Wuxian, a dancing flame, bright and illuminating and warming. The mirror opposite of Lan Wangji.

And the man he’d mourned for thirteen years in his dreams.

“Wangji?” of course his brother picked up on his unusually chaotic emotions.

It was a terrifying effort to calm and centre himself again, but he did manage it.

“It’s nothing, Xiongzhang, just a name I dream of often” Lan Wangji dismissed. There were things he didn’t wish to discuss with his brother; as he was sure was the same for Lan Xichen. “Jiang Wanyin is starting to doubt. Do you believe they will interfere with our Purpose?”

“Who can say? They seem intelligent, curious and adventuresome young men. If it appears like they will, we shall have to try and lead them away from doing so. I have heard stubbornness is a strong trait of Jiang Fengmian’s son, however, who is to say his adopted brother is any different”

***

Wen Ruohan sat patiently waiting for Wen Qing’s return.

She was as punctual as expected; his shining star, so accomplished and gifted, bringing honour and renown to his clan through her excellence in all she turned her mind and ability to.

She offered him the expected bow, “Sect Leader Wen, I’ve spoken to our guests. Everything is ready. We have about forty cultivators arrived so far”

“How many from the large Sects?”

“I counted ten. Lan, Jiang and Jin representatives have come. Qinghe Nie have sent no one”

“Perhaps that is to be expected, even if some of his disciples were experiencing the nightmares Nie Mingjue is distrustful of outside influences, and he protects that brother of his like a mother tiger with her cub” his fingers drummed on the arm of his throne-like chair.

“Wen Zhuliu” he raised the same hand to summon his subordinate after a few moments of reflection.

“Sect Leader Wen” Wen Zhuliu, tall and broad-shouldered, stepped forward and bowed before Wen Ruohan.

“Let’s begin. I think three nights, three thirds, is an acceptable ratio”

“Yes, Sect Leader Wen” Wen Zhuliu bowed again and left the inner palace.

“We are so lucky to have acquired Wen Zhuliu’s special talents” Wen Ruohan commented, exceptionally pleased.

Wen Qing murmured her agreement and excused herself as having many things to prepare for the morning and the second phase of their plan.

[tulpacest]

Perspective

A short fic exploring Korekiyo & Sister’s relationship towards the end of her life.  My writing is a little rusty, but I am so glad that I am able to do something for these two again. AO3 cross-post: here 

Any feedback is much appreciated! Thank you for so much for reading! 

The night air hummed sweetly with the sound of crickets chirping. A hazy white-noise that awoke the evening, the swift vibrating of their wings marking the cusp of summer. It would not be long until they would have to slide the doors that opened onto the engawa veranda shut, when the honeyed heat slowly melted away into autumnal frost. A chill already hung in the air, one that pricked goosebumps on her skin. He wondered if he should have already shut the door, but to deprive her of that beautiful vista… to deprive her of the moon and the stars that overlooked her at night… he could not bring himself to do it. And so the hum of crickets continued to fill her room, and so too did the slightly smoky scent of sweet osmanthus. “Sister… Did you know?”

She did not respond. That was alright - after all, she could not. Not while a machine pumped rhythmically into her lungs. Not while she remained artificially sedated. Not while her mouth lay open, red and angry and raw. It was alright.

She was resting so that she could heal. “The singing of crickets in Brazil is said to be a sign of impending rains.” ‘Ah! Korekiyo, and why do you think that is?’ “Perhaps when the conditions are most suited for the crickets to mate and die is just prior to the rainy season.” ‘Hm-hm ~, the mating song does sound a little like the pitter-patter of rain, do you agree?’ “I would never have considered that, but of course! Yes… to examine every angle of a symbol, environmental, textural, sensual… Only then do we have a chance of finding the truth.” Her mouth stayed open, her endotracheal tube sitting pertly between her teeth. The only noise she made was a faint gargling sound. Could the tube have been fitted improperly? Or was it her body’s natural reaction, them muscles in her throat tightening and relaxing against this foreign invasion. He brushed her lips with his finger, leaning forwards as he examined her mouth, hair falling over her chest. ‘Do you think we can ever find the truth? Even with all our thick descriptions, our deep thoughts, our probing questions… most things will be forever shrouded in the mists of the unknown. Does that frustrate you, Korekiyo?’

“Not at all, Sister. I think… that is what makes it so fun.”   Her throat looked so dry… Salvia weakly bubbled, yellow-green mucus forming around the edges of her mouth. Does it hurt? No, he chides himself. She’s dreaming, in a world of ecstasy. Nothing can hurt her in there. Nothing. “To be unable to understand everything, to frustrate ourselves with even the simplest of things; such as why a Brazilian hears a cricket and thinks rain but a pilgrim in Kyoto hears the voice of Buddha… The infinite possibilities one humble insect possesses over the human mind. That is what I find so intriguing.” Standing, he quickly searched the room, returning after a brief moment with a bag of toiletries. It would be some time, now, before a nurse would visit. But, she needn’t worry. This was no chore to him. To help her, in any small way, that was his honour. Kneeling into the tatami, the sound of crickets still thrumming in his ear, he gently dipped a cotton bud into her throat. “In parts of China, they believed that the cricket would bring good fortune. In Barbados, they say the same thing. Fourteen thousand kilometres between those distant shores - and yet, still, the whirring of an insect’s wings inspired the same thought in them.” Carefully swabbing away her mucus, he continued to stare deep into her throat. The ridges of her mouth. Her flaccid tongue. Her teeth… they would need brushing, too. And her hair… her whole body, really, was begging for attention. He put down the swab. First, he would change her catheter bag.

To do that, she would have to be undressed. Gently running his hands over her hair, he gazed quietly at her face. Her expressionless sleep. Her folded eyes. “Sister. Please, you desire the feeling of cleanliness, yes?” She always seemed her happiest after a bath, cheeks a sensational red, her smile full and genuine. Come feel my skin. It’s so soft. Laughing as she squeezed her own arm. It feels like I’ve gained weight. I’ll have to bathe before they weigh me, next time. What do you think?

“I am sorry. I will have to undress you. Is that alright?”

Her mouth tightening, a red smile blossoming. She’d lift up her bathrobe - sudden and unexpectedly, the laughter reaching its peak. Anasyrma. A softening of her expression as she swayed side to side, her lewdness still exposed. It is a ritual gesture recognised in cultures all across the world. Pliny the Elder thought a woman could lull the storm out of the sea with this gesture alone, the Chinese and Irish both marvelling in its ability to ward off enemies. It can chase off demons, scare the gods, end the rains. Are you scared of it, Korekiyo? He began to undo the ties of the hospital gown around her neck, untucking the robe from her sides,  pulling it from her body like wind rippling over sand. Her chest stared up at him, breasts limp and her stretched brown nipples arousing absolutely nothing in him. Her body was speckled with familiar markings - her scars that cleaved her like white kintsugi rivulets, her freckled hips, the mole just by her stomach. It was still her body, but… how different it looked. Swallowing air, veins flush to the surface, new sores forming. She was still laughing, completely disrobed now. Deep summer, the veranda still in full view. No one will notice, she insisted - and besides, the moon illuminated her body in a way that was far too flattering to dismiss. How alive she had looked, then. Drinking in the light, her breasts kissed by that white-blue air that seemed to soften everything. Are you frightened, Korekiyo? Or do you think this gesture represents something else entirely? She’d opened her legs, her mouth brighter than her eyes. To me, I think, it evokes surprise and laughter. To me, I think that it can be used for emotional healing.

He spread her legs so that he might access her catheter more easily. Standing, he went to wash his hands. Returning, he carefully removed the catheter tubing that connected to the bag. He re-connected the tubing to another bag. The soiled bag was taken to the bathroom. He opened the valve and let the contents drain into the toilet. He repeated the washing of his hands. He filled the bag with warm, soapy water. He drained it of soap. He refilled it with a disinfectant. Shaking the solution, he placed the bag on the bathroom counter - leaving it to rest. He washed his hands again.

To me, I think it represents letting go of sadness.

Filling a basin, he returned to her side. With a washcloth, he softly wiped away the sweat and oils that had come to her skin’s surface. She remained motionless as he scrubbed under her armpit, lifting her breast so that he might clean beneath it, watching as soap bubbles gathered between her ribs and in the depression where her stomach lay and her hips jutted from. She was so thin, but not as thin, he reminded himself, as last year. “You’ve not been eating. I have observed it, the way you slip food from your plate. Mother may not be able to see it, but I do.” Her face had soured, then. Her cheeks sucked in, her teeth rubbing against her lips. She hadn’t said anything, but he knew it was because she had lost the ability to taste. How all foods must have been reduced to textures, like chewing through bark. Perhaps it was ritualistic fasting, but they both knew there was no curative powers to that.

“So, allow me to eat for you.” With a dry washcloth, he dabbed all of the places the water had flowed over. It was not the same ritual, he knew, that she used to take. All of her lotions and oils and pretty-smelling things. Mother complained if he applied them, because then, of course, she’d know he had been doing this. Then she’d be reminded of her negligence. Failing to love unselfishly must be a torturous thing.

And she had watched, with disbelieving eyes - as he scraped the hospital food from her plate. Slipped the overcooked noodles into his mouth, cold and flavourless - and instead, described to her their exquisite ecstasy. No longer was it noodles he was eating, but living Unagi. “Ah, this eel! How excellently she has been prepared Split from the stomach, Osakan style, encouraging one to literally ‘spill their guts’ during a night of socialising. The way she still writhes in my mouth, tickling my gums, bringing sensations to places I nary knew existed - isn’t it wonderful? Should I swallow her whole, Sister - or do you think she deserves mercy for this sacrifice?”   This sight, of a noodle transformed into an eel - a strand still hanging through the zip of the meal-time mask she had made… It made her laugh. The shock of the question, the horror and beauty and ecstasy that he was describing - it made her laugh even harder. The idea that this hospital would serve a delicacy like live unagi! She had taken his chopsticks then, brought the eel to her own mouth - quivered as it slipped between her lips. Let’s study how both methods affect the culinary experience. Crunch her between your teeth, savour her flavouring, relax in knowing that you have delivered a sweet mercy. But I will swallow her, and I will delight in her agony as she travels through my digestive system, and I will remember how she did not give up trying to escape until the very last moment.

And it didn’t matter, then, that the lack of taste made her throat clamp up. That noodle, transformed, the memories of grilled eel with rice and pickles, the realisation that she could not give in because of this - not yet, no. Not yet. She had to keep eating, she had to keep dreaming, she had to - because this laughter, those gentle eyes, this moment alone was worth any pain. And now, she doesn’t feel pain at all - do you, Sister? Isn’t it beautiful? She was dry, now. His fingers slipping through her hair as he combed it. He would wash it later. Clip her nails. Give her a massage. Speak to her until Mother came back from wherever she was, wherever it was that she went every night instead of being here with her.

“But, Sister. Did you know? Crickets do not only symbolise positive things. Human beings as fickle things. No matter how hard social structures try, there will always be those who see one thing and think another. Yes. The cricket,” he breathed, “Is said to have been the first being who wished death into the world.” “In Alagoas, it is said that the cricket announces death when it enters the house.” Carefully combing out a tangle, he stared out into the veranda. Golden light pierced the sky, pink clouds on a background of stripped blue. The sound of crickets still drowned out everything, louder than her ventilator, far louder than his whispered voice, louder still than the sweeping of the brush through her hair.

‘I wonder,’ He said to himself in a falsetto, knowing that if he could eat for her, he may as well speak for her, too. ‘I wonder which it will be for us. A harbinger of good fortune, the crackling laughter of god, or a messenger of death?’

Placing her comb beside the futon - he leaned across her body, resting his head on her shoulder.

‘Don’t cry.’

Don’t cry, she’d croaked, leaning limply on him, golden eyes barely open. There’s no time for weeping. You have to be strong. If you cry, I will cry. And that would be a rotten thing, wouldn’t it?

‘Don’t cry,’ she repeated, now, in his voice. He remembered her embrace, how easily she once squeezed resolve, joy, warmth into him. Lifting one of her heavy, lifeless arms, he drew it over his back. The other, he draped across his waist.

Held like this, in the cusp of summer, her voice a pleasant memory leaking from his lips - he felt…

Wonderful.

Their two bodies entwined like this, the flickering of life in her like a candle easing in and out of the wind. Is it frightening? Is it deserving of mercy? Is it representative of the letting go of sadness, or is it wishing death into the world?

Are we all of these things? Are we any of them?