#Till You Make It Fic

[formlessvoidbeast]

newbie fic authors, shooting themselves in the foot: This fic is bad haha I suck at writing lol I am being mean to myself in the hopes that you will be nice to me but actually am dissuading anyone from even clicking on my fic because all I have done to advertise it is tell you why you shouldn't read it

me: I am King Big Dick of Fanfic Mountain and I have arrived in your fandom with the Express Intention of writing my Very Favorite Fics, which I will generously allow you to read. You're welcome.

[i-like-to-look-at-your-back]

Busy morning

Inspired by Mornings, With You (and coffee, too) by @lurethegalaxy

[moonlight-prose]

well um hi again 🌼🤍 i would love a drabble of just like Jake lockley and reader making out 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 i know it would fix me i know it. Anyways i love sleepovers I'm glad you're doing one 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

a/n: hello babes! honestly i am trying to remember which sleepover this was for and i think it was for synthwave. anyways it's taken me months, but i am here for the jake lockley spice. if i'm being real a good makeout session with him would heal me too. he's just got that power. it's a small drabble, but enjoy!

summary: the mornings were calm, unfettered peace. but the nights...those were divine.

word count: 0.5k+

pairing: jake lockley x reader

warnings: SEMI-EXPLICI SO MINORS DNI, makeout sessions, hair pulling, jake lockley being a sexy menace, they're so obsessed with each other it's sickening, it gets hot and heavy, reader is described wearing a dress.

You couldn’t remember how you got there.

The rush to get inside was now a haze in your mind, his touch the cause of so much vanishing from your thoughts. If you tried to concentrate all you could feel was him. The way he gripped at you before you even made it to the front door. Dinner was cut short by a problem—Jake leaving the restaurant only to return an hour later, white shirt stained in blood, curls awry, and hands bruised.

He expected you to be upset, chastise him with words that would later come into play when he apologized.

He didn’t expect you to kiss him.

To say you had the self control to make it to the bedroom was a blatant lie. Which is why you collapsed atop him on the couch, your lips unable to detach themselves from his. He pulled you close with a pained groan, hips canting up to meet yours, blood no doubt bleeding into the pretty mauve colored dress you wore.

You sighed into his mouth, fingers tangling in his curls, and let him ruck up the skirt of your outfit. Pink wasn’t really your color anyways and besides…if it wasn’t blood then certainly something else would have stained the fabric. Neither of you were too proud of how quick your inhibitions took control. The incessant need was a thrumming pulse that beat beside your heart, a reminder that you wanted him, that you needed him.

“Amorcita,” he rasped, teeth scraping along the shell of your ear, fingers digging into your hips. “You’re getting messy.”

A smile curved along your lips as you brushed your lips along his. “Not my fault someone had to be a hero tonight.”

He smirked. “No. It’s not.”

“Besides…” You met his tongue with yours, tasting the slight bitterness of his mezcal from earlier. A soft moan was pressed into your mouth, hand sliding up your back to grip at your dress and pull it up even higher until cold air washed across the small of your back. “I like when you make me messy.”

The hitch in his chest didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you didn’t have time to comment on it. His lips finding yours with a renewed passion, a deep rumble tearing from his chest as he clutched you even closer. Intent on melding the two of you together. Your knees pressed roughly into the couch, fingers pulling at his hair painfully, but you could practically feel the need begin to bleed into the air around you.

“That right?”

You nodded, dragging your hips forward slightly, a whine building up in your throat, only for him to kiss it away. He licked into your mouth, spit now spread along your bottom lip. You felt the breath faint in your chest—a reminder to pull away—but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. The intoxication of him ate away at your heart. A need you did what you could to keep.

“Then let me make you messy amorcita,” he murmured, hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, tugging it roughly until you were parted with a gasp. A string of spit connecting his lips to yours. “Let me stain you baby.”

A broken sound tore from your throat, fingers digging into his chest as your lips formed around a divine fucking words he felt down to his very core.

Please.

[nonsense-is-everywhere]

Being silly.

SIKE! THIS WAS AN AD FOR MY NEW FIC THE WHOLE TIME. Boy I had you fooled. Anywho, here’s the summary along with the tags.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: SMG3 & SMG4 (SuperMarioGlitchy4)

Characters: SMG4 (SuperMarioGlitchy4), SMG3 (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Mr. Puzzles (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Bob Bobowski (SMG4), Fishy Boopkins (SMG4), Meggy Spletzer (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Tari (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Luigi (Nintendo)

Additional Tags: Little Mr. Puzzles is very important to me, Cannon typical shenanigans, SMG34 if you squint, Relationships aren't the focus tho, Takes place in the middle of the Puzzlevision movie, Little Puzzles is like 11 to me and will be written as such, May have projected my adhd onto him a tad, No beta we die like Axol did, Angst, Relatively new to the fandom, Anon is on because I'm a nervous person, The SMGs and Mini Puzzles are the main focus

Summary:

SMG4 and 3 escape one channel, just to be hit completely off track and fall into a seemingly endless void.

After meeting the floor, they find themselves in a room with a shadow like memory of a child, who is ecstatic to have finally made some friends.

If you’ve been wanting to see more Mini Puzzles centered fics like me, then consider reading.

And as much as I like thinking of interactions between Mini Puzzles and Mr. Puzzles, they won’t be seeing each other in the fic for a while 😔

[r26yz]

now I've spent myself in lines and lost. where is that boy of yesteryear?

let him die young and leave a pretty corpse: die with his legs in the air

[ants-personal]

lowkey i know it wont happen now but i wish demteri had also went ahead and joined cobra kai and started his villian era

finding out the one person he even got swept up in all this karate shit for is once again planning on abandoning him and throwing out everything they ever dreamed and worked for making you feel like they never actually cared at all the biggest betrayal

after you made it so you forgave them for it never got the full apology you should have gotten but you just wanted your bf back and of course he feels bad about it so why push it so you never asked and never talked about it all those times they hurt you literally breaking bones calling you names terriozing you at every turn you look past it supporting them on the sidelines cause you couldnt even think about being better or without him again

only for him to turn around and do it again

i am for demteri villian rights

[sophiasharp]

I’m fascinated by the fact that I still see variations in the new quintessence ghoul’s name. Phantom is the obvious front runner, but I’ve also seen plenty of people use Aeon and a few people still use Midas as far as I’m aware, and even some people that still refuse to pick.

This is immensely funny to me and so I present to you an absolutely non-answer of a headcanon: What if he doesn’t actually HAVE a name?

What if things were so hectic when he was being summoned, needing a sudden replacement for Aether, like, yesterday, that Copia just. Forgot to ask the name of the new ghoul he summoned in favor of rushing him to the rest of the pack.

And as a result the ghouls just… kind of started giving him a bunch of nicknames that the others thought were his real name?

Aether’s the one that starts to call him “his little Phantom,” or just Phantom for short, since, at the time, the man was like a living ghost in their den. Barely made a sound the whole time he was there, barely noticeable as a person, blended into social situations so even if you knew he was there, you never really have track of where he is.

Not long after he was summoned, Dew finds him looking out the windows at the night sky, absolutely enamored with the stars and nebulas above them, and Dew takes it upon himself to drag the new ghoul outside and stargaze with him while he points out every constellation and star he can remember from all the times he’s sat out with Aether in the past. The next day, when ghouls start gathering at the breakfast table and Dew asks “Orion” if he wants some coffee, everyone there takes it in stride.

Mountain was likewise quick to come up with a name. “Aeon,” he called him with full confidence one day after spending the afternoon showing him around Primo’s old garden. When asked where it came from, Mountain claimed it was in reference to his quintessence. “It’s hard to describe. It’s something that feels simultaneously older than memory and younger than the present. It’s time and space stretched like taffy and bent in the shape of a ghoul.”

“Midas” comes from Swiss, who insisted on sitting in on a practice session between the new ghoul and Aether. Swiss was blown away by the progress he’s made in such a small amount of time! “It’s like the strings turn to gold under your fingers, man! Which archdemon did you make a deal with to play like that?”

Other nicknames followed. “Quint,” “Shadow,” “Bug,” “Puppy,” “New Guy,” it just kept going. It got to the point where if anyone just said a word in his general direction with enough authority, his head would turn, assuming they were talking to him.

And yet, not once this entire first leg of the tour did he ever correct the other ghouls. It seems he’s content to let them each have their own name for him, at least for now. After all, each name is like a gift: something personal that his new friends have given him, something that grounds him in this new and hopefully permanent pack. Then it would be rude to just choose one over the other, wouldn’t it? And he doesn’t want to disappoint his new pack. How could he possibly choose?

[irregularbillcipher]

DO YOU KNOW WHAT SPAWNED YOUR EXISTENCE?

[ID: Two lineless, digital paintings, both with warm, dark gray backgrounds. Both canvases are shaped like exact squares.

Painting one shows an adult Bill Cipher, a bright yellow triangle with a top hat, bow tie, cane, singular eye, and long lashes, reaching out to shake hands with the Axolotl, a pink axolotl with an electric blue tail. Bill is looking at the Axolotl casually, and his outstretched hand is engulfed in blue flames, while the Axolotl is smiling at Bill gently, reaching out to take his hand. There are stylized stars, similar to sparkles, in the top right and bottom lefthand corners of the painting. The painting is textured so that you can see the gray of the canvas very faintly through the brush strokes.

Painting two consists mostly of a short passage from Edwin Abbott Abbot's Flatland, written in light gray over the dark background. The passage is the beginning of chapter 7, and reads as follows:

"7. Concerning Irregular Figures

I for my part have never known and Irregular who was not also what Nature evidently intended him to be-- a hypocrite, a misanthropist, and, up to the limits of his power, a perpetrator of all manner of mischief..."

Below the quote, near the very bottom of the page, is a tiny illustration of a very young Bill Cipher. He is drawn completely in grayscale, and is looking down at the ground angrily, fists clenched. He is wearing a pauper's cap and has bandages wrapped around his rightmost angle, which is noticeably longer and more acute than his other angles.

End ID]

[ironunderstands]

ngl yall I don’t fuck with Avenpaz that much anymore

I still think it’s fun within the context of Aventiopaz/IP3 but like… I don’t think they can exist on their own in my brain and tbh they never have

if I’m being honest their relationship is best QP, especially considering how much Aven likes men and topaz likes women

anyways I just wanted to say this as it might affect the way I write the ip3 in the future

[stygianheart]

write a ZoLu fic about ZORO relizing his feelings

Chapters: 13/13 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences  Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Summary: Roronoa Zoro knows he’s loyal to a fault. And maybe that loyalty is only for his Captain and Crew. But realizing his loyalty for Luffy is also something more, something more personal and emotional, was not what Zoro wanted. And he definitely didn’t want the voices in his head to get so loud. But hey, we never get what we want, do we? In which Zoro figures out he’s in love with his captain and is in great denial, all while struggling through emotional repression and a bunch of shit he doesn’t deserve. Go figures.

W h a b a m .

You’re the second person to ask this, but I had already given in. (What is it with you people, you’re relentless—)

I will never forgive you all for converting me into a ZoLu fan. Ever.

Anyways, the fic will update once a week! Most likely on Sundays. Enjoy! (Share it if it you like it or something, idk)

[celticwolf55]

Fake it till you make it Chapter 30 art.

Check out the new chapter.

www.patreon.com/CelticWolf55

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

if u saw a girl reading kyman in various disney lines today. mind ur business.

[burberrycanary]

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions)

Stucky, Endgame Fix-it, Road Trip Get Together

An expression crosses Bucky’s face like a shadow, tightly controlled and gone fast. But he rolls his head to the side, looking over at Steve, calm and steady, worn by life and changed so much but still here, by this small fire and lit with the unsteady golden glow, under these too many stars. 

“Everywhere I go,” Bucky says, “the past is this pit. But I’ve got to keep it behind me, because if I don’t, I’ll fall in. And someday I’m not going to have the strength to crawl back out. So it’s got to stay behind me, Steve—the big nothing right at the back of my feet.”

Steve stares at his walking-around miracle brought back to him by so much carnage and wretched injustice he’ll never be able to set right, not in all his remaining days. 

Because here’s the truth: he’s never once caught Bucky and every time he’s ended up following, he’s been too late to save him from all this suffering—the war, the future, and the long fall into the cold that came in between.

Honesty is all he has to give, which may just be adding to the burdens of a man doomed to carry a terrible load he can’t put down.

But maybe there’s something in the old paradox: the weight that makes you feel lighter. 

Maybe that’s what loving someone is.

Read Chapter 46 on AO3

Only one more chapter to go—I'm almost done with this! Many thanks to my betas @village-skeptic​​​​​​​​​​​, @booksandabeer​​​​​​​​​​​ and @zenaidamacrouras1​​​​​​​​​​​ 🥰

[silverloreleysfanfics]

Yet another idea for a TTEOTM fanfic I'll never come around to write.

Roleswap fic!

Cang Jiumin is a cultivator, the adopted son of Master Zhaoyou. His world has been on literal fire because of the Phoenix Demoness Li Susu, daughter of the Ancient Devil God's Lieutenant Di Mian who managed to snatch the Evil Bone along with the Sky-Slashing Sword when the Devil God fell. Even if Di Mian was trapped in the Barren Abyss, he managed to free himself and found his daughter's egg, powering her with the Evil Bone's power he corrupted Li Susu's original pure nature, turning her into the Phoenix demoness who brought destruction upon the world ever since she hatched.

When Li Susu decides to attack the Immortal Sects to obtain their artifacts, she and Cang Jiumin clash for the first time, and she seems to recognize him somehow, much to his confusion. She attacks him anyway, but he's protected by Ming Ye's dragon scale and able to access to the Mirror of the Past's power.

This leads the elder Immortals to believe he must have some godly ancestry or protection and can use the relic. As such, Zhaoyou entrusts Cang Jiumin with the task of going back in time to make sure Li Susu won't be corrupted by demonic power.

Now, he finds himself in the body of Tantai Jin, Ye Xiwu's husband, and here I have two routes:

The past background is the same: Tantai Jin is the hostage prince of Jing who managed to marry the favourite daughter of the Pillar General of Sheng, Ye Xiwu is vicious and shows every possible bad trait that will lead to her easy demonization, so he has to try to awaken her best feelings so she can learn to love the world and respect others.

Tantai Jin is the favourite prince of Jing, even though he was born the son of a concubine. When he brought an end to the long-time war against Sheng thanks to his wit, he was ordered to marry Ye Xiwu, daughter of the Pillar General of Sheng, to consolidate his power in the foreign land where he's staying as regent (basically, his father let him have Sheng to compensate the fact he can't get the throne of Jing due to existence of his older, legitimate brothers). Obviously, Ye Xiwu hates him, is spoiled, and all the drill.

which is actually 2.1: Tantai Jin is the favourite prince of Jing who is friend with Xiao Lin and his marriage to Ye Xiwu was wanted to ensure a more lasting peace (like in his dream in ep 4). Ye Xiwu, who thinks Tantai Jin will never get the throne due to the existence of his older and legitimate brothers other than the fact he has a reputation of being weak and meek, despises him and the marriage.

Plot 1 would retrace some steps from canon, with Cang Jiumin having to try to elicit pity and affection from the tyrannical Ye Xiwu from his disadvantaged place as a hostage prince and unwanted husband. The moment he transmigrates is when he dies kneeling on the frozen lake, he's "saved" by the benevolence of Grandmother Ye.

Plot 2 would require some more imagination and delve into palace matters and politics (which are not my expertise) but would make a more novel plot.

In any case, they should come around to discover a few things about each other:

Ye Xiwu's life was not as nice as it looked, despite being the only legitimate daughter and most spoiled, in fact, she was always overshadowed by Ye Bingchang ever since she stole Pian Ran's Love threads. Ye Xiwu genuinely loved Xiao Lin and had her heart broken by his indifference, other than the fact Ye Bingchang used her newfound influence to push her sister out of society.

Tantai Jin is a tribulation of Cang Jiumin (like YXW was LSS), but he's not the Devil Fetus here. Instead, he's the lost son of Ming Ye and Sang Jiu, who she lost without even knowing she was pregnant when she saved Ming Ye the last time in the Ruo River (hence why he was born from Concubine Ruo)

Ming Ye drags them into the Bo're Life to show YXW who her father really is like (Di Mian did kill Chu Huang after all, which he lied to LSS about), and also the risk of allowing herself to demonize like Sang Jiu did. For his son, he wanted him to know the real story and see his mother, but also apologize and warn him not to make his same mistakes of being too cold and distant with the woman he loves, along with the hint to the presence of the Evil Bone in LSS and the need to replace it with an Immortal Marrow.

After their deaths (which will depend on how the plot develops) Cang Jiumin comes back to his life in Xiaoyao sect and is surprised to find that Li Susu is now a new disciple of Qu Xuanzi, leader of Hengyang sect.

This could be the end... or not.

[daemon-in-my-head]

I DID IT! FLUFF! NOT A DRILL! OK well obviously me being me there's the trademark sliver of angst but, yk, it's brushed aside quick(er than usual). No, despite the name, it is NOT horny. Though Gortash has some thoughts because of course that fucker does. I have no hand left in their characterisation, they're doing it themselves atp. I'm fucking innocent I swear on Gortash's most personal dreams.

Synopsis: Perhaps childcare wasn't as easy as Enver Gortash always considered it. Seeing how the ruthless tyrant now sat defeated and adorned in all sorts of finery before the little girl. The very girl he so smugly proclaimed tending to would be easily doable hours prior.

2,069 words, non-descriptive mentions of violence, big fluff. Read here or on Ao3.

Child's play

"I want to play," The little girl exclaimed loudly as her hands found their way onto the makeshift desk Gortash had created from the ornamental outdoor furniture. She was bravely demanding the city's tyrant's attention, which had been solely intended for the documents before him, all for herself.

"So? You have plenty of toys. Go and play with them." The Archduke didn't even bother looking up, or rather down, at the girl.

Seeing how his dearest companion had been working himself to the bone lately, caring for his day-to-day work in the temple and keeping his daughter safe and entertained, the Archduke had ever so graciously offered to look after her for a day, all so that his dearest Bhaalspawn may rest, and perhaps, if he was fortunate enough, wouldn't reject any advance to as much as a conversation with his usual saying he'd be too tired or that he'd still have some work he needed to tend to.

After all, Gortash thought, money for a nanny had been no issue and considering all his feats so far, caring for a child for a day should be easily accomplished. A worthwhile tradeoff for the rewards the proud lord promised himself. At least in theory. But the little girl had thrown an extraordinary tantrum when he had attempted to leave her with the nanny and loudly demanded to accompany him today, resulting in the never-resting tyrant setting up a temporary office in his companion's garden, all while the girl entertained herself either watching him or playing around with a plethora of toys her father must've obtained for her. Until just a moment ago, that was.

"They're boring," The girl pouted, clearly displeased about his straightforward dismissal of her. "I want to have a party."

Ever Gortash sighed, "we can't simply host a party just because you're bored of your toys, Neala. And certainly not with a hostess that barely reaches up to her guest's hips."

"But Papa always does when I ask him to?" She seemingly couldn't comprehend just how absurd her request had been.

Intrigued by the utter confusion displayed on the little girl's face, he questioned further, finally setting down the quill and facing the girl, now standing next to him, "how exactly do these parties your father holds for you look like?"

"Well," the girl began, her confusion quickly changing into delight, "Papa and Lief sit down, and we talk, and Papa listens and calls me 'Lady'. Oh, we also have tea! Mama used to help me with that but-" the girls expression darkened as she recalled her mother.

The tyrant knew that she still missed her immensely. It had become a reoccurring topic whenever he and his companion managed to find time to sit down and talk, and while he didn't usually care for sentimentality like this, considering his own circumstance, making Fine's daughter cry, even by accident, would certainly not work in his favour.

"Fine," he forced his lips to curl into a crooked smile, "let's have a party then. Tell the servants what you need. They'll help you prepare."

Not even waiting for him to finish his sentence, the girl had already run off towards the garden's entrance.

Whatever she had described was, after all, not a party but simple child's play, entertainment for the mansion's little princess, provided to her by her beloved parents. Though, the proud lord had to admit, even if it wasn't a proper gathering, the idea in and of itself was quite brilliant, playfully teaching the girl what would be expected of her once she came of age. Especially considering she was the offspring of two rather infamous 'families', being a proper hostess and perhaps handling things such as beverages by herself were skills that would undoubtedly be useful to her in the future. Then again, the more he played with the thought, the less sure of whose idea it must've been he became. Both her parents were undoubtedly ruthless enough to make sure she would be well-equipped to use anything she could to her advantage, but on the other hand, at least her father seemed to treasure her dearly and continuously gave his best efforts to keep her as far away and more importantly as unaware as possible of his usually grim businesses.

Perhaps it was indeed her late mother's idea? It would make sense, he thought. She had been a noble drow, and her kind was primarily known for their handiness when it came to poisonings and other cruelties. A woman like that playfully teaching her child from a young age how to host gatherings and, more importantly, how to add unique ingredients to a tea was something he could terrifyingly easily imagine. Perhaps it would be better to refrain from touching any teacups the girl would handle.

The Gates Archduke making headlines because a child managed to somehow temper with his drink would certainly diminish his reputation. Although, perhaps if he framed it the right way, it may yet serve as a way to garner even more support. But then again, challenging the Bhaalspawn for his daughter's sake would work against his most personal goals. A sigh escaped the man as he was weighing the options in his mind. It seemed as though caring for a child was, in fact, not so as easy as he had imagined previously, seeing the conundrum he now found himself face to face with.

"Here," the girl's voice finally tore his chain of thought apart, forcing Gortash to return to the present once more.

"And whatever might this be?" His Eyebrows furrowed as he observed the bundle of fabric stretched out towards him before he shifted his gaze to look upon the girl again.

"Clothes," Neala was equally confused, seemingly not grasping why he would question something so obvious.

"I can see that, Neala. But why have you brought them here?" The tyrant swallowed his sigh. How much he missed conversing with those who understood his words for what they were.

"People dress up for parties, do they not?" She hurriedly placed the bundle on the makeshift desk, disregarding the parchment beneath. Like father like daughter. As soon as she did, a seemingly exquisite hat, alongside a plethora of other accessories, revealed itself.

"Here," she said yet again, this time holding the aforementioned hat adorned with silky fabric towards the grumbling man.

"If you need help putting it on, you should ask the servants. They're more experienced with these things." He gestured towards the garden's entrance where a maid had been stationed, ready to heed her master's every beck and call.

The girl beamed as she proudly retorted, "it's not for me. I got it specifically for you!"

Gortash couldn't believe what he had heard. This big, tedious, carefully decorated hat before him was one of the things the ladies of high society would adorn themselves with whenever they left their comfortable estates. It was certainly not something he would, or should, ever consider wearing. "You're trying to make a fool of me, are you not, little one?"

The girl, however, perhaps fortunately not picking up on either the slight hint of malice or the true meaning of his words, simply continued to beam at him as she responded, "you need to dress up prettily for parties, and this is the pretties one I have."

"I appreciate your consideration, but I'm afraid I can't wear that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Even in a private garden, an Archduke couldn't stoop so low.

"But you have to. It's no party otherwise." The girl insisted.

"Why, you little-" he tried his best to keep his voice low, low enough so that the girl wouldn't hear his cursing, but his efforts were in vain.

"I'll tell on you to Papa." She smirked as she cut him off. The little devil certainly knew what she was doing, he thought.

But before the tyrant could consider his next excuse, another familiar voice rang through the garden. "Oh? What are you going to tell me?"

A white-haired man emerged from the grand doors marking the garden's entrance behind them, promptly causing the girl to drop the things she had been holding onto and rush towards him, only to be picked up and nestled within his arms in one swell motion, sealing Gortash's fate for good.

"Papa! Your back!" She wrapped her arms around the man, obviously overjoyed about his arrival.

"So? What were you talking about that you couldn't help but share?" He was looking at the somewhat defeated-looking lord before him, but the answer he sought came from the girl in his arms.

"We wanted to hold a party!" Neala was still giddy with excitement as she spoke.

Fine shifted his gaze towards his daughter before questioning her further, seemingly knowing what must've transpired while he was gone with just a glance at the two of them. "And he really agreed to go along with what you proposed?"

The girl's excitement died down a little as she appeared caught in her mischievousness. He could guess that she omitted some 'minor' aspects of her proposal, which had led to whatever situation he had barged in on. But before she could receive the imminent scolding, the person who may yet change her fate interjected himself into the conversation again.

"I did." He cleared his throat and promptly continued, leaving no room for any more questions, "in fact, we were just picking out some fancy clothes, weren't we?" Gortash forced a smile. He disliked it, but he'd rather voluntarily discard his pride than be saved by the very person whom he had promised a day of rest. "Now, shall we return to what we were doing?"

The Bhaalspawn raised his brows in surprise but soon enough let go of the girl and allowed her to return to her party planning. As soon as she was freed, she held out the hat towards the grumbling tyrant again.

"Thank you." A brusque reply before he took the fabric of nightmares and placed it on his painstakingly coiffed hair.

"Here," Neala's usual smile had returned as she approached her father, an exquisitely crafted brooch clasped in her hands.

"Am I invited as well?" The man responded with a similar smile. He seemed genuinely happy about this unforeseen development. Perhaps burying one's pride once every so often wasn't too bad, Gortash thought.

"Yes," the girl exclaimed happily. "You'll be the lord, and Uncle Enver will be the lady. And I'll be the gracious hostess!" The tyrant swallowed. Never mind his previous statement. This, most definitely, was hell on earth. The little girl must be a fiend skilled at hiding her undoubtedly existing horns. And that nickname she had conjured up, oh how much he wished he could just curse out loud.

Trying his best to suppress the laughter threatening to break free, Fine made his way over to Gortash, extending an arm as soon as he reached him. "My lady? Shall we head to a more suitable location?"

Biting his lip, still trying his hardest to swallow the laughter, Fine nodded towards the pavilion where the servants had already set the table with a delicate porcelain tea set. The place the child had already dashed off to.

Gortash sighed before taking the hand extended towards him. This father-daughter pair may yet be the death of him, but for now, he'd simply try to delight in the few short moments of undisturbed time together their way would allow them.

And sure enough, after arriving at the furniture set decorated for them, the blissful moments soon disappeared. Their little hostess made sure to torment him for what seemed like hours, chattering away and engaging the adults in conversation about made up circumstance and her little fantasies, all while serving what could only be called discoloured water and endlessly swooning over the beautiful hat the 'lady' had been wearing. Gortash may have had his fair share of dealings with devils, but all of them could still learn a thing or two from the little hellspawn hopping around cheerfully around them.

Still, while Gortash yet refused to admit his defeat for a while longer, it didn't take too long for him to finally surrender to the little demon before him. Perhaps due to the ashen hand holding his own and the quietly mouthed 'thank you' from the man beside him, in the end, and after enough time had passed being held onto like this, even the tyrant's smile seemed to come naturally to him.

[santiivans]

Ivantill fic along the vein of Richard Siken's “you're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you he loves you, but he loves you” and/or along the vein of Hozier's “I remember the view, streetlights in the dark blue / the moment I knew, I'd no choice but to love you.” Hmmm....