#and the fact that they keep breaking down into smaller pieces but this time no one tells them that it's a bad thing instead that

[totally-original-artist]

Avi have you seen the last hnk chapter? Got me starting at the wall at 7:00

I JUST READ IT!!! I've been putting off reading it after 100 and I just binged it and

I completely forgot abt the manga ngl, thx for reminding me walp

[lexirosewrites]

In honor of nurse appreciation week…

Instead of ‘Eddie gets a toy stuck in him and Steve helps him get it out,’ what about alpha Eddie picks out the wrong size of ‘pocket omega,’ so his knot gets stuck and he goes to the ER?

Omega nurse Steve is both horrified and impressed.

He wants to just get out the sterile scissors and start working at cutting away the rubbery toy piece by piece, but he can’t help the lecture that starts to slip out too.

Who can blame him? He is a nurse after all.

“You have to be more careful next time. You can really constrict the blood flow with these things if you’re not careful!”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even more flushed and he mumbles something, not making eye contact when he does.

“Sorry?” Steve asks, ready to admonish him for whatever excuse he has for buying the wrong size. “What was that?”

Some alphas just think ‘smaller is better’ and Steve knows that’s bullshit.

To believe otherwise is just antiquated and juvenile alpha-brained thinking.

Eddie clears his throat, finally looking at Steve directly when he explains sheepishly, “I got the biggest size I could find. It’s just… my knot is kinda huge.”

Steve whimpers a little at that, clamping his legs together tightly at the thought of such a large knot filling him.

“O-oh.”

He’s glad he wasn’t holding the scissors.

“Yeah, it’s kind of an awful problem to have,” the alpha admits as Steve tries to get a hold of himself and do his job like a professional.

His mouth might be watering now.

“No! I mean- uh, I’m sure there are plenty of omegas who would be willing to- that- that is to say- um…”

He can’t think of anything but big knots and being filled with them.

Eddie chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about it, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here for the same stupid problem. This company just advertised carrying a size big enough to accommodate any knot and I believed them.”

Steve is going to cum in his fucking scrub pants like some slutty omega who can’t control themselves.

If Eddie’s telling the truth (and Steve’s inclined to believe him, especially since the proof is almost in front of him), then Steve’s never going to stop thinking about it.

He makes the last few cuts, finally able to pull the mangled toy off his patient’s swollen cock and behold the goddamn ‘Mona Lisa’ of alpha knots resting in his unworthy hands.

Jesus Christ.

It’s one thing for Eddie to say he’s been blessed in this particular area and it’s another for Steve to see it with his own eyes.

(and hold it)

“Oh good, it deflated a bit,” Eddie states with relief.

Huh.

“It… went down? This isn’t your full knot?” Steve wheezes out.

The alpha’s timid smile turns into something closer to a smirk, almost like he’s proud now.

“I mean, you can find out if you keep stroking it like that.”

Steve looks down, horrified to find that he was indeed running his hands along Eddie’s cock like some sort of trophy in need of polishing.

“I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me. This is beyond inappropriate. I’m sure you’re ready to go home and forget all of this!”

Eddie clicks his tongue thoughtfully, keeping Steve practically on the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“While I could do without the ER bill, I think I can justify the visit if I leave with an actual omega. Maybe even one who’s a bit of a size queen?” he suggests coyly.

Steve gapes at the sheer boldness.

“How- uh, why would you assume that?” he flusters, the room feeling much smaller suddenly.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

Steve raises one back.

The alpha doesn’t break eye contact, reaching down to wrap his hand around Steve’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“Might have something to do with the fact that you still haven’t let go of my knot, baby,” Eddie purrs, leaning in closer so his warm breath tickles Steve’s face. “Or maybe it’s that fucking puddle underneath you that’s getting worse by the minute. You’re dripping for my knot.”

He is.

Steve can hardly breathe, every inhale giving him a mouthful of heady alpha hormones.

Despite the scent neutralizers pumped out into the hospital air and the patch stuck on Steve’s own scent gland, he’s fucking enraptured by the smell.

His hand twitches, tightening.

Steve can’t help but blurt out, “My pussy can take it. I fuck myself open on the biggest fake alpha cocks I can find every night, but they’re never enough. They’ve- they’ve never been—”

He swallows, trying not to choke on his own drool building up in his mouth from ust.

Eddie presses his lips right up against Steve’s ear, letting them brush his skin when he whispers, “Yeah, sweetheart? They’ve never been… what?”

The alpha’s other hand drifts between Steve’s legs, pushing down the front of his pants and finding his arousal evident there.

Steve whines pathetically at the feeling of Eddie’s searching fingers running through the slick on his flushed skin.

“They’ve never been as big as you are, alpha,” he confesses, breaking every last ounce of willpower and giving in to his needs completely.

“What do you want, omega?” Eddie asks, trailing kisses behind his ear and down his neck. “What do you need from me?”

“I- I need…” Steve keens loudly as a wet kiss is pressed directly to his mating gland. “Your knot splitting me open like I’m just a toy.”

Eddie smiles.

“You are my toy.”

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael proves that he needs help

Angst, Gore (?)

A/n: So, Originally the chapter was longer. But it was wayyyy too long, so I choose to split it.

La Vaguelette

Chapter 8 > Chapter 9 < Chapter 10

Leonardo was reading peaceful one of his science books. One of many he owns in heaven.

He loves these kinds of pieces like electric, Atomic and the other things that the human created with his little help. 

Even though sometimes it ended in war or weapon, which was kind of disappointing for Leonardo. Why would they create something to just destroy themselves?

He stopped reading as he felt the sudden familiar power of an opening a portal. 

He looked above his book trying to catch what was disturbing his peace. 

Leonardo watched as Michael came through a portal and carried you in his arms. 

Of course it is Michael.

“The Seraphim?” Leonardo asked his smaller brother as he raised his finger towards his face to adjust his glasses. 

Michael looked over at Leonardo, and cursed.

oh he is so fucked. 

Leonardo was the responsible one.

Always listening to what father has to say and always do his job 100% correct.

Mostly he keeps heaven in control so nothing gets out of hand.

It was till they created Sera, and now he's thinking about getting his old responsibility back.

Sera couldn't be trusted anymore. She had one job and Michael did it for her.

Bring the seraphim back.

“What?! Nooo that’s just an exorcist who needed help-“ 

“What is she doing here?” Leonardo stated clear. He is not in the mood to play with Michaels dumb little games.

“Just doing my job.” Michael said, his emotionless eyes looking at Leonardo. 

Leonardo sighed laying his book aside. “He said not to hurt her,” He looked down at your broken legs and hands. “And you obviously did.” His golden eyes burned into Michael’s soul, making him shudder. 

“Calm down brother! You really think she’ll come without a fight? You’re too naïve.” Michael laughed nervously.

“I could’ve done it better.” Leonardo said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Maybe even Sera." An cold wind blow freezed the tips of Leonardo's Black hair.

Michael was not pleased with the comparison with Sera.

Michael stepped forward his icy blue eyes bored into Leonardo golden one. “I will handle it.” 

…

Michael pulled you along with him. Not caring that you got a cut added every time you slammed against a rock, that laid on the floor. 

You were in a place in heaven that looked identical to hell, maybe even worse. 

The floor was worn out and every surface was uneven and had holes. 

A place that was hidden before bare eyes.

A prison or worst a torture chamber.

Creatures were behind those bars and are more terrifying than anything in Hell. 

Except maybe root.

It was Michael playhouse, his palace. 

The place where he can live his sadistic and psychopathic ways fully. 

And everything else is his Hunting ground. 

Making people disappear out of nothing and bringing them in the depths of this lovely place.

Someone who lands in here never goes back, not at least in the form how they came. 

They get completely mangled and stitched together like in the worst horror movie. 

You are Michael's new subject that he got in his claws.

The one he’ll break and re-build.

You’ll be the one who’ll destroy her loving partner.

His perfect subject.

How is he still in Heaven you ask? 

One of daddy’s Favorite. 

He threw you into an empty dark room and you hit your head hard against the dirty cell wall. 

Blood started oozing out of the fresh wound, but no reaction. 

The pain is nothing compared to the old wounds. 

It was just a little pinch. 

The hole in your thigh pulsated harshly reminding you of its very existence.

You squinted your eyes open, only to realize that you were hanging high above from the ground. 

You tried to move but the chains on your wrist held you in place. 

It hurts. 

The chains scratched your wrist open in a slow pace. Your broken hand was pressed firmly against the chain. It feels like your hands are getting ripped apart from your Arm.

It hurts so bad.

You wanted to scream but you can’t, his ice was still on your lips making you shiver from the cold.

Lucifer help

Legs were unmoving and you got in a panic like state. 

You can’t move an inch. 

Please Lucifer it hurts

You’re a damsel in need and Michael could you whatever he wants with you. 

And right now, he was watching you suffer. 

He probably got an erection seeing you hanging there with the broken limps He caused. 

“So, you’re awake?”

He sat down on a chair that stood in front of your cell, your new home. “Choosing not to talk, huh?” He chuckled when the sound of moving chains echoed through the dark hollow walls. 

The magic this place once held, was completely sucked out by Michael's evil thoughts.

“If you think that is the worst it can get, I must disappoint you.” A monstress scream and a slashing sound of a whip was what caught your attention.

It is unbearable.

The sounds of Angels that were getting ripped apart and sewed together to create some of Michaels weird obsession.

And you may wonder how Michael ended this way. He used to be a happy Man, and now he is a cold hearted psychopath.

And echo in those walls gave you the answer. A small whisper in the last bits of magic the Playhouse had.

It gave you the answer to this question.

He wants to create, just like his twin brother Lucifer. 

But he can’t.

So, he took this place to make creatures for heavens protection. But these creation never worked. They were brainless and brutal monsters.

Killing everything that was near them.

And he fell deeper into despair.

He never could be Lucifer and it was pissing him off.

He wasn't as creative as Lucifer. He never could be.

Lucifer was God’s favorite.

So, Michael sabotaged him.

Making Lucifer fall for Lilith and letting the forbidden Apple into Lucifers grasps.

It was Michael's duty to protect. But he didn't protect the Apple, no. You could say he gave it to him like a wrapped up gift.

Lastly Michael gave father the Idea to create Hell.

And after that Michael talked to his brothers to banish Lucifer into hell.

For his sins.

And now Lucifers Playhouse is his. The precious thing that Lucifer had in heaven, he even took this.

And now he has you too.

All mine. thought Michael, driven by envy and Jealousy.

How is this place in heaven? How is he in heaven

“We’ll see each other tomorrow rotten Apple. Try to take some rest, tomorrow isn’t going to be a good day for you.”

…

The voices stopped.

The sound of heels meeting the cold floor was the only thing that kept you sane for a second.

It kept the voices away that talked through the walls.

Sometimes you could see how they dragged an Angel down into the surgery Room.

So that happens to those who betray him.

It was cold and lonely down here. 

The sound of voices and clicking of the clock ringed in your ears. It was uncomfortable.

All you wanted was going back to your beloved Lucifer.

You couldn’t sleep because of the pain from the hole in your thigh that started to get infected. 

The flesh around it grew fury red and the bugs started to slowly eat the flesh around it.

You closed your eyes to imagine that you were with him. That this all was a nightmare and you're alright.

But the pain reminds you that nothing is alright.

Everything will be alright.

"You Liar." You whispered and opened your eyes to look at the black surrounding.

The sound of heels hitting the floor grew louder and louder till it stopped.

You raised your head and looked into those golden eyes that brought some light into this dark place. 

“I never dared to go to Michael’s playhouse, but I had to see it for myself. The Seraphim that father wants to have back. And yet here you are chained up by our dearest Brother Michael.” 

Click. 

He opened your cell and released you from the chains. 

You fell right into his arms, and he wasn’t cold like Michael, no. He was warm like Lucifer; you miss him already. His hands raised and touched your forehead, he pushed your hair slowly out of your face and the warm feeling came back. 

It reminded you when Lucifer and you first met. This unknown Angel was helping you. 

Why?

As if he heard your thoughts, he Introduced himself as The Arch Angel Leonardo. 

“I’m here to help. I can’t get you out of here yet, but I can heal your wounds.” Your hand and legs snapped in their right place, and you could feel them again. 

A tear of hope streaked down onto Leonardo’s black coat, and he stroked your back softly. 

The hope will not last long. Not as long you're here trapped into Michael's little Playhouse.

“You can rest for now.”

He laid you on the hard bed that was in the corner from the cell and his grip left your body. 

It was a step back into reality. 

The coldness hit your neck like a cold shower. You buried yourself under the thin sheet for any warmth it may have. And you finally slept out of exhausting.

_____

Lucifer was pacing around the hotel lobby, “We must do something!” He was terrified what will happen to you if he doesn't do anything.

He knows how heaven can manipulate and cruel. 

But Michael was a different story.

He was not allowed in heaven, so how can he get you back? it was against the agreement they had.

But he will go regardless. For you he’d break this one rule he never over stepped. 

For you he'd destroy heaven if it means to get you back.

Charlie stood there in silence, she felt like it was all her fault. She hadn’t put any safety measurements in her hotel to keep any attacker at bay. 

And Michael took you away.

Now Lucifer lost you, and worse they all lost you. 

And maybe she’ll lose her father of her dumb mistake. 

Soulmates can’t be separated for a long time for a reason.

“Luci?” 

A soft voice called out for him. 

He spun around and glared at the person who stood on the staircase. “Lilith?” 

Again, weird timing. 

She stepped in front of him not even glancing at the other members. 

She has something planned, Angel Dust thought as he looked her into the eyes. 

They gave a dangerous look. A glint of hatred reflecting in them.

She's not here to be friendly.

_____

You woke up from the heavy sound of metal meeting stone. Voices were keeping you from going back to sleep.

Michael and another person were standing in front of you observing the scenery.

Michael looked at your healthy body. No Broken Limps.“Leonardo has to ruin all my fun.” Michael pouted and the other one just shrugged.

“He doesn’t like when you’re, you know, you?” The other person said looking at you.

You stood up and stretched your body, the aching pain of your muscles calmed in relief after some movement.

You looked the other person right into their golden eyes, just like Leonardo's.  

His Grin was just like Lucifers just with Humane teeth. 

Why do they have to be all related.

He bowed slightly and introduced himself as Azrael the Arch Angel of Death. 

Your mind spins what type of Arch Angel is Leonardo and what was Lucifer? 

You know that Michael is the Arch Angel of protection. 

You know so much about Lucifer but also nothing.

With a snap of Michaels fingers, you were back up in chains. 

You grunted at the sudden burning sensation from the chains. They were icy cold. “Your little lover boy seems to be in a little trouble my dear.”

___

Lucifer stepped back as Lilith stalked towards him, throwing affection comments on him. 

What is her plan? 

Lucifers back hit the wall with his back, there’s no escape.

He cursed.

Lucifer doesn't want to hurt Lilith.

Not in front of Their baby.

_____

“He spins lies and crawls between sheets.” Michael chuckled, and Azrael crossed his arms in front of his chest the smirk never left his face. 

In front of you an orb appeared, it was deep black with a white aura flying around it. 

“Let me show you something my dear.” Azrael said pointing towards the orb.

The orb showed the Hotel, or rather the scene that takes place in the hotel.

Lucifer and Lilith were standing both so close.

Lucifer wouldn't do anything, he loves you right?

___

Lilith pulled his chin towards him and kissed him forcefully.

Shoving her tongue into his mouth.

A passionate kiss was shared between. Or that's how it looked.

____

You looked at the orb Azrael made for you to look through. 

Your hands ached from being chained too long, bruises almost turning black. And all you could do is watching helplessly how Lilith was kissing Lucifer. 

No that's a Lie.

A piercing pain throbbed and spread in your heart. Like a knife that buries itself slowly into the soft flesh of your heart. The knife slowly gets dragged down, slicing your chest open in the process. 

That's the nearest thing that could describe the pain you feel right now.

“He never loved you.” Azrael’s words echoed through your hollowed skull, your mind was screaming, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

The pain that resides in your heart and the words Azrael and Michael were planting into your minf.

Stop

This all must be a lie.

This must be fake.

Lucifer would never do that to you. “It’s real darling.” Azrael took your chin between his fingertips, a sadistic grin never failed to appear.

No

Your body felt numb, you slumped down when Azrael let you go. 

You hang on the chains like a dead corpse.

Michael looked from the shadow; he loved the view.

Your suffering was pure pleasure to him, you suffer is his suffer and it filled his icy cold heart with desire. 

He wants more destruction. 

More of your breaking.

He wants to see you break into itty bitty pieces. 

So, pity full. 

Your eyes were empty, you’re shutting down. No more defense reflexes.

You wanted to die right here and there.

Were you not enough?

You should’ve known that this was all a lie. 

It was all your fault after all. 

You broke his trust in the first place. 

Leonardo looked down at your figure and he was the only one who didn’t smile. 

Since when is he watching anyways?

Is it pity? Is it caring? 

Stop, stop. 

Stop looking at me like that.

He should smile not taking pity on your own misery as something sad.

They’re all the same, Arch Angels are all the same, even Lucifer.

He wants to use you just like anyone else.

Leonardo will play with you and then throw you away like everyone else.

You were mad and disappointed. Lucifer made you feel like the only person he needed.

But in reality he just wanted you gone so he could have Lilith back. 

And when you were captured by the one and only Michael. 

And Lilith took the opportunity that you here chained up in here.

She lets Michael do whatever he wants with you. and in return she returns to Lucifer.

Wasn’t she known to be kind and loving and just left Lucifer with their child.

Then she replaced you, taking her spot back that she left long time ago.

Were you living to rot in your own misery.

Who would Love you anyway?

Not even your own mother glanced a second glance at you when you needed her the most.

You felt like a failure.

You couldn’t even keep your own Soulmate that is destined to stay by your side. 

You looked up at Leonardo, his pitiful stare was stirring something in you. Something you never felt, it was indeed a sin. 

In the end you never dared to sin. But the plates have changed. Your life already is horrible.

Anger, and the desire to kill build up in your chest. Filling the pain that is planted deep in the softness of your heart.

“don’t look at me like that. Go on laugh, laugh that I thought he would safe me out of here. NO ONE IS STOPPING YOU!” You clawed up to him, the chains were rustling and the skin of your wrist were scratch open.

You wanted to claw his face open. You wanted the pain to stop. Tears were falling uncontrollably, and the sobbing mixed with the horrible sight of you clawing to get out.

That someone will come and save you out of this.

But no one will come

You feel like you’re going to burst, you didn’t want this life. 

You wanted Love, you wanted to be loved and someone to tell you that you're safe.

You missed him even though he betrayed you.

Love is the greatest curse of them all

God created you out of mere dust and let you stay in the dirt. 

Not even God could love you. 

Leonardo shifted his gaze away from you, “I’m sorry…” You laughed at his attempted apology. And your body fell lump.

"I got you" Sera whispered as she held you close to your body. You giggled and looked up to your mother. "You'll never leave me, right Mom?" And Sera nods. "Never."

She left.

"I got you sweetie." Lucifer's Forehead was on yours and he hums a soft tune that calmed you down.

You had a panic attack.

You dreamed about your mother again and Lucifer came to calm you down."I'll not leave you."

That’s what Lucifer said and look where he is now. 

He's gone.

"You're alone, Y/n."

In the Arms of his beloved Lilith.

____

Lucifer was quick to push Lilith away with brutal force. He rubbed his mouth with his clawed hand in a disgusting meanor. 

“Get the fuck off me.” He said while spitting the mixed saliva out of his mouth.

His lips felt like they’ve touched poison. 

He was glad you haven’t seen this. He is scared that you’d misinterpret this. 

He doesn’t want Lilith he wants you.

And he certainly doesn't want to lose you.

Little did he know that’s why Lilith did it and in fact you’ve saw the kiss they shared. 

Lilith, who was now on the ground, smirked up to him.

“The damage already done love.” Her Voice was full of venom. That’s not the Lilith Lucifer used to know. 

Lilith was kind and loving.

And now she’s rotten and disgusting like spoiled milk.

“What have you done?” He tilted his head rather asking himself what damage Lilith meant.

“Your little Angel. She’s the one you love and care so much and she’s the one who’ll burn this all down.” Lucifer raised his eyebrows. 

“What you mean?” Angel dust asked, clearly knowing who’s she referring too. “Yeah, she’ll never do that.” Husk stated serious catching everyone in surprise. 

He genuinely cares about you and that surprised the others.

The Husk cares about an Angel. Wouldn’t be the first Angel but the other is a demon that carries the name Angel. 

The name of his new Identity.

Lilith laughed, “God has his Plans.” 

Lucifers ears peaked at that, “God? Now you’re a puppet of him? The one who you said made you suffer? Really? That’s why you left me all alone with a child?” 

He took a deep breath closing his eyes, trying to calm down his building anger.

“Where is she?” He asked calmly, his eyes remained closed as he waited for her answer. 

No Answer. 

“Tell him, you pig.” Vaggie said holding a spear deathly on Lilith’s neck.

“I could kill you in less than a second. You’re in the deathly position, Vaggie.” Lilith smirked up at her, tapping with her nail on the Angelic weapon. 

Tap 

Tap

“And in less than a milli second I can wipe you out of existence,” Lucifer opened his eyes showing its fury scarlet color, “So tell me, where is she?” He leaned down towards her face. 

Fire danced along with his words, intimidating Lilith. 

“She is in heaven.” She answered in defeat.

“Oh, we know. But where?” Angel said and his voice wasn’t welcoming either. 

No one hurts his little sugar tits. Not even the Arch Angels themselves. 

“In Michaels playhouse, your old one. That's where she is right now. But I don’t have any more Information.” Lucifer snapped with his fingers. 

Chains appeared out of the ground pulling Lilith down a portal to God knows where. 

Lilith screamed at Lucifer, to let her go. She doesn't want to go there where these chains will drag her.

“We are leaving.” Lucifer muttered, patting the dust from him.

“Where to?” Charlie asked looking her father in his red eyes. 

“It’s time to bring Y/n back.”

Please be alright.

A/n: The Hazbin gang is on their way to Y/n. Let's hope they're not too late.

Thank you all for the Support Pookies<3

💫

Sadly couldn't Tag you

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows @0puddleofgender0 @fallenh34art @v3r41ynn @froggybich @pank0w

[starsandsugars]

Burning Desire

PAIRINGS: shiv roy/f!reader

SUMMARY: you had hoped that working on a work assignment with shiv might make her open up to you. Instead it lead to you 'opening up' in an entirely different way. (NSFW • MINORS DNI)

TAGS: coworkers hooking up, degredation, praise, office crushes, cheating (if you squint)

NOTES: hi guys :) this is my first fic I'm posting on tumblr and my first piece of smut so please be nice and I hope y'all like it!

-

Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Shiv's hand press firmer against your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet even as she continued to pump her fingers into you at that ruthless pace. Each stroke of her fingertips hit that perfect spot inside you, drawing out animalistic sounds that were just barely concealed by her. Every little touch made you feel electric, every inch of your body practically vibrating from the pleasure.

As your head tilted back and knocked back against the door, you thank whatever God there was for putting you in this situation.

You had seen Shioban Roy countless times around the Waystar offices, normally in some meeting or getting into an argument with her siblings that half the staff had to witness.

You knew very little about her initially other than what was public knowledge. You had no reason to pay her any mind, but you always felt your eyes drawn to her anyway.

At first you reasoned it was because of the effortless way she commanded the room or the fact that, as Gerri's second in command, she was kind of your bosses boss but as your curiosity began to change shape it became harder and harder to deny.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her if she walked by your desk, the simple twirl of her hips enough to take your breath away. When she leaned over her desk to talk to you, you just about lost your ability to think clearly. And the one time you saw her kiss her husband in the lobby it filled you with a feeling you refuse to admit even to yourself.

It was ridiculous, and beyond irresponsible.

For one, she was your boss. If that wasn't enough she was married - to the head of news at the company that you work for no less!

You did your best to convince yourself that it was just an office crush. She was a beautiful woman with a touch of power that turned you on more than you wanted to admit. That was surely all it was.

Or it least, that was all it had been, until you got assigned to work on an agreement that Shiv, as President of Operations was hwading. t really wasn't an overly complicated assignment, which is why Gerri handed it over to you, and you expected to be done with it in a couple of days.

As it turns out, that was far from the case. The other company refused to sign, and what could have been a couple meetings turned into long days and nights cooped up in Shiv's office hunched over paperwork.

Your silly crush hadn't gotten away, and had gotten even harder to manage. Now you were close enough to smell her expensive perfume, close enough to hear the edge her voice took when she was telling you to do something.

You tried to push it down, smother it, but the flame only grew brighter with each day you spent together.

Finally, after a million emails and a formally worded threat of litigation, the smaller tech company signed the contract and became a part of the growing monolith that was Waystar Royco.

You had never seen Shiv happier, practically beaming as she went immediately to gloat to her father. You took your things and disappeared back to your own office, expecting that would be the end of your Shiv Roy saga.

You were a little sad to see it end, but you're sure your vibrator will thank you for a break now that you won't have to constantly be so close to her so you prepare yourself to just move on.

You should have known things with her could never be that simple.

Just as you began to catch up with your other work you've been neglecting to help her she pops her head into your office.

"Come out with me to celebrate our win." She says without so much as a 'hello', "Drinks on me."

It wasn't a request so much as a command, but you found yourself agreeing anyway.

With that she turned on her heels, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You were distracted the rest of the day wondering what she was up to. Did she really just want to celebrate? What was her game here? You knew the Roys well enough to know they never did anything without an agenda.

By the time she came to get you from your office at the end of the day you were all but convinced she was going to fire you. You went with her anyway, heart thumping in your chest as the two of you sat quietly in her private car.

She had her driver take you two to a high end bar that seemed to be pretending to be a dive bar. It was busy, with warm bodies and loud music everywhere. It could almost pass for a normal bar if it weren't for the suits all around and the fact that one of their drinks rang up for twice as much as your hourly wage.

She (thankfully) bought you your drink and turned to gave you fully once you had both settled into a leather booth.

It started off perfectly innocently, talking about you success with the deal and your future at Waystar. Your anxiety began to melt as you realized she really wasn't firing you. In fact, she seemed like she genuinely wanted to talk to you.

You talked your way through another 2 drinks each, both of you slowly opening up to each other. You told her about how much Gerri gets on your case and she tells you about her open relationship with Tom.

She drops it into the conversation casually but the way she blinks her eyes gives her away. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"I mean, I don't control what he does. Why would I let him control me?" She leans a little closer, and the finger tracing the rim of her drink turned into a heavy hand on your thigh.

Her voice lowers as she continues, sending shivers down your spine.

"I sleep with whoever I want. Whenever I want."

Your voice choked up a little as you responded, voice sticking in your throat from the sheer shock of it all.

"Yeah, me too." You manage, drawing a laugh from the redhead.

"Oh yeah?" She teases, eyes twinkling as she whispers into your ear.

"Why don't you come show me?"

Before you can even begin to think better of it her ingers splayed are across your back and she's guiding you to the back of the bar.

She opens a door knowingly and you realize she had planned this. If she had to have an angle, you were glad it was this one.

Once the two of you were inside she pressed you back against the door. The cold metal pulled a shiver from you, but the second her lips were on yours it's like every other sensation melted away. She kissed you like she wanted to consume you and you would be more than happy to let her.

As if reading your thoughts she bit your lip, pulling a little yelp out of her. She grinned and moved her lips against your neck as her hands slid up under your dress. You preened under her touch, breathy moans escaping you despite yourself.

It took only a moment for your panties to be tugged down your legs but she paused before actually touching you. You tired rolling your hips but all she did was brush your clit all too softly.

"Shiv, please." You begged, tapping into the want for submission she so clearly had in her normal life. The tendency clearly extends to sex because as soon as you give her what she wants she finally pushed her fingers into you.

She was clearly skilled with her fingers and she worked you up in no time. You moaned loudly, and she gripped your chin to warn you.

"Be. Quiet."

When you couldn't comply she shoved her hand over your mouth, gripping your cheeks to keep it in place. When you whimpered enough to be heard through her attempted gag she crowded you further against the wall.

"Shut up."

She spoke into your ear, equal parts threat and promise.

"Unless you want us to get caught. Maybe you'd like that. Maybe you want everyone to see what you let me do to you in this bathroom."

She strikes just the right spot inside of you and your thighs begin to quake, fingers clutching desperately to her shoulders. You know you should try to maintain some level of basic self respect but when she looks at you with those hungry eyes you just can't find it in yourself to care.

"God you're such a slut." She says, sounding pleasantly surprised. The words send sparks down your spine and you feel yourself tumble over the edge.

Your mind is hazy and your legs shake so badly she has to use her thigh to prop you up.

Once you had calmed down enough to do something that resembled normal breathing she let you go, smiling like she's just won some kind of contest.

"Good girl. I knew you had it in you." She says, and it's a struggle not to let the praise go straight to your head.

She starts to check her reflection in the mirror over the sink as you stay against the door, trying to make your brain work properly again.

Eventually you come to your senses enough to straighten up and try to appear half as nonchalant as she is.

You approach her, leaning against the sink as you watch her fix her hair.

"You're not going to let me return the favor?" You ask with a tone od faux innocence, trying to talk as if it were about a business deal instead of the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

"Oh trust me, you're going to." She grins at you in the mirror. "But we're not doing this again in the bathroom. We're going back to my apartment."

She strides right out of the bathroom, knowing you were going to follow her without you having to say a word.

She's not wrong, and you chase after her before you even have the time to realize your panties are still discarded on the bathroom floor.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Bluebeard

Summary: After a string of unfortunate marriages, the Lord König has set his eyes on you. You’re in no place to refuse, but you make the best of your circumstances.

Warnings: Brief smut mentions, secrecy, blood, bugs, I tried to keep the reader GN but I accidentally fucked up with the Three Bears and a pronoun so tell me if you spot anything. Afab!Reader (tits mentioned), brief mentions of a wedding dress and night gowns.

Pairing: König x Reader

Your husband was…..a strange man. Taller than the giants from the stories your nanny told you as a child and twice as fearsome. You were constantly on the verge of asking if you had upset him in some way, your poor heart breaking every time his cold eyes swept over you before just as quickly looking away. Like he held no interest in you, despite the fact that he was the one who had chosen you over all 5 of your elder sisters.

Your engagement had been a short affair, your wedding somehow even shorter. A flurry of movement too quick to even distinguish. All you could remember was your Mother’s soft hands lacing up your dress, her lips on your cheek, and then your father’s rough arm practically dragging you down the aisle to your soon to be husband and the priest. The knot tying hasty and sloppy, the words falling from your mouths rushed, you had hoped it wouldn’t be a bad omen for your marriage but it seemed that it was in vain, barely even a moment to say goodbye to your mother and sisters before you were being packed away into the carriage like another piece of luggage. And then it had just been silence, occasionally broken by your soft questions answered with only rough grunts or hums from your new spouse.

Your new home was smaller than expected, but still much bigger than your father’s house. It was simpler too, no gold detailing or overly luxurious furniture. Just barely enough to pass as the image of a nobleman’s house from the inside. But you were still in awe of it when you walked through the halls that day. And when night fell….you had expected coupling to happen that night, and you weren’t wrong. But it was nicer than you had been expecting. Not sweet or romantic like you might have once hoped, but he had been far gentler with you then many husbands were to their wives. Opened you with his fingers, his lips on your neck, made sure you were as slick as water before his cock even touched you. And even when he was inside you he was good to you, rough but not cruel, ocean blue eyes staring into your soul the entire time, watching as tears and smeared makeup ran down your cheeks, listening to the wet squelches of your hole and your bitten back moans. But he only spilled inside of you when you reached up, shaking fingers caressing his cheek.

It was your first and only time experiencing that intimacy with your husband before he had run off on a series of ‘business matters’ to attend to, leaving you with a belly full of seed and a ring of keys that unlocked almost every door in his keep. Told you to explore to your heart’s content, and you had. Went into every room, touched everything there was to touch, roamed the halls, met the few scant servants, had cake and meat and every kind of food you could think of. And you became so terribly terribly bored in König’s absence. Until he came home.

So excited to see him again that you did everything you could to welcome him home. Hung colorful banners, had specialty cakes made, stayed by the front door and rushed him when he walked in, taking him by complete surprise. Sat by him at the table and stared up at him adoringly, trying so so hard to make him look at you the way your father once looked at your mother, with love and joy, a certain kind of tenderness that you’d never had before.

And that night, when you crawled into bed with him, you embraced him fully, holding him until the stiffness of his muscles melted away and he was left snoring, curled against you, his head buried in your neck and his hands clutching at your nightgown like you might disappear in the night.

He left before sunrise the next day, leaving you only a note that said he’d be back in a week's time, and a new key to add to your ring. This one opened the personal armory he kept, full of muskets and broad swords and daggers of all kinds. Only one was missing from its place, you hazarded a guess that it was the one he always wore on his belt. A slight thing, with a sapphire embedded in the pommel.

You spent the day aweing over the vast collection of weaponry, picking up some, pretending to fight with some thief or scoundrel, giggling until your heart didn’t feel so empty. But it lost its appeal by the day’s end, and the week dragged along even slower than before, your mood growing ever more dour and downtrodden until your husband returned once again, this time carrying a small chest in his arms.

“Das ist für sie.” He had said, placing the delicately crafted box at your feet, carvings of flowers and dragons on every border. A thing of beauty by itself. “Open it.” He said before plopping down into the nearest seat, leaning back lazily, but those blue eyes of his were laser focused on you.

You were hesitant to do so but quickly conceded to his wishes, kneeling in front of the chest and lightly touching it, reveling in the artistry and time that must have gone into making it. Even the thick leather belts and silver buckles used to hold it closed seem to have had hours put into them. You were careful to open it, pulling the lid back to reveal….books. Many many books. Some plain and leather bound that you assumed were for sketching, others with colorful and hard bindings. History books, cook books, fantasy novels, tragedies, plays. So many books you could hardly number them all, a large smile pulling your face taunt as you took your time pulling out each and every one, tracing the covers and skimming through the pages before looking up to him and meeting his now softened eyes.

“Thank you.” You whisper, hiding the lower half of your face behind the last book, something that appeared to be about medieval weapons and war tactics. “I love them.”

“I’m glad.” He whispered, and you hoped he was smiling under that stupid cloth he always wore over his face. “I figured you would be bored. The servants told me you didn’t invite anyone over this week.”

“They weren’t who I wanted to see.” You tell him after a moment of silence, watching him perk a bit, tilting his head ever so slightly. But he didn’t ask, and you didn’t give him any answers as you carefully repacked the books to be brought back to your shared bedroom. “I asked the cooks to make that stew that you like for dinner, and I special ordered a loaf of bread from the bakery.”

“Thank you, Engel.” He whispered, grabbing your wrist as you passed by, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand, lips lingering on your soft skin before ever so reluctantly letting you slip out of his fingers. You swore you felt his gaze on you the whole way down the hallway.

That night the bedding was needy, full of heat and sweat and barely stifled groans as he buried himself in your hole repeatedly, filling and then overfilling you with his thick white seed. He made it feel like he was doing it for more than just his duty, for more than a need to have an heir to his estate and titles. Especially when he stared into your eyes like that the whole time, his hands cupping your face, not giving you a chance to look away from him or hide yourself.

The next morning was spent in bed, lazy and soft, starting off with another round of coupling full of slow thrusts and sloppy kisses. Then it was breakfast in your shared bed, strawberries and whipped cream on the side that you both eagerly enjoyed, feeding each other by hand until a dollop of cream landed in the valley of your breasts, prompting him to bury his face between the soft mounds, licking away the mess and creating a whole new one that had neither of you leaving the bed til midday when he unexpectedly left again, adding another new key to your growing collection before he took off on horseback.

“For the attic.” He’d said hurriedly, servants scurrying around you trying to re-pack the carriage with his necessities, but it would still be a few hours behind him on the way to his destination. “It’s rather dusty so be sure to ask the maids to clean it before you go up there, I’d hate for you to ruin your clothes.”

It was all he said before placing a tender kiss on your head then riding off, leaving you heartbroken and lonely, clutching the keyring to your chest. It took two days before you went into the attic, not even bothering to heed your husband’s words, something you only slightly regretted and you inhaled a lungful of dust just after opening the door while two maids fretted at the bottom of the ladder, fearful of you falling and bumping your head, successfully killing the only bride their lord had ever had return his affections in full.

It was a boring place, the attic. Many stored trinkets and cloth, but some paintings and photographs as well. Most seemed to be of your husband as a child but there were a few of him more recently, poised and masked beside women in beautiful dresses with lovely smiles and tired eyes. You counted six different women in total.

His previous wives.

The sight of the photos left you nauseous and mournful, nearly dropping yourself down the ladder instead of climbing down, rushing past worried maids and into your chambers where you could successfully hide your tears in one of the pillows from König’s side of the bed, still tinged with his scent. It was where you stayed for several days, barely eating, barely moving. A sniffling mess that couldn’t be persuaded out of bed.

Not until he came home.

You didn’t even realize it was him at first, too distracted by self pity and jealousy, sniffling occasionally. You didn’t even see him, barely heard the door open. Only paying attention when the other side of the bed shifted and dipped beneath his weight, a sigh falling from his lips.

“Are you sick, Engel?” König asked, big hand reaching out to run along your arm until you pettily turned away, leaving his hand in the air, fingers twitching.

“No.” You tell him, feeling him shift again, laying on his side and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer, not giving you a chance to escape this time.

“Then what is it, Engel?” He asks, lips pressing against the back of your neck. “Let me make it better for you. I do not like seeing you so upset.”

You went quiet, choking on your tears as he rubbed his hand over your belly, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder in a way that was comforting even when you didn’t want it to be.

“Tell me.” He told you, voice on the edge of desperation and begging, and you were sure his eyes would be big and worried if you turned your head to see them.

“It’s stupid.” You finally end up saying when he started to press affectionate kisses to your shoulders and along your upper back.

“Nothing you say is ever stupid, Engel.” He says, curling his fingers into your gown, holding it tight.

“I went into the attic.” You start, breathe hitching with a held back sob. “And I saw-I saw-” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, turning your head as your body started to shake with renewed cries.

“Was it the paintings?” He guessed, seemingly taking his answer from the way you only sobbed louder. “Oh, Mein Engel.” He mumbled, strong hands turning you away from your cocoon of safety and into his chest. “Hush now, it will be okay. I’m sorry. I will have them burned.”

“You-You don’t have to do that.” You try and say, though you knew it lacked the conviction you wanted it to.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He says, shaking his head. “Those women….they never meant anything to me. But you mean the world.” He tells you, and you can practically feel your heart stopping before it sped up, practically a vibration in your chest. “You are mein engel. I will burn them, and then I will fill the walls with pictures of you so that you will never forget what you are to me.”

“Us.” You say, red rimmed eyes finally peaking up at him through your lashes, sniffling softly. “Pictures of us, you mean.”

“No. Pictures of you.” He says, ducking his head to plant a kiss to your temple. “Ones of you in the garden, ones of you reading.” His lips twitched into a smirk as he started to whisper. “Ones of you spread and leaking.”

“König!” You say sharply, heat rising in your cheeks as he boomed out a laugh, cupping your face in his warm palms and planting a wet and heavy kiss against your lips.

“Those ones would be only for my eyes though, Engel.” He huffed, sitting up a bit to better adjust himself, thickening cock brushing against your thighs wantingly, straining through his trousers. “I would keep them close. Only take them out when I’m lonely and missing you while I’m away on business.”

You giggle nervously, digging your nails into his sides when he rolled over you, pinning you on your back beneath him, legs splayed open just for him.

It was several weeks before your husband left again, the paintings and pictures in the attic turned into ash and new ones of you and your love were placed all around the estate, some even still waiting to be finished up and framed. And it had been so so good. Every morning was woken in his arms and every night ended with him in yours. Hand feeding each other at dawn and sating other hungers at dusk. More perfect than any picture that was taken, then any dream you had. But you knew you’d have to wake up sometime.

The day he left again was even more heartbreaking than last time. The goodbye kisses lasted longer, the desperation ever growing, clinging to each other like that could somehow make his duties disappear.

“I’ll be back in a fortnight.” He whispered against your lips, the carriage driver prudently looking away, keeping his eyes skyward so as not to make you feel awkward at the intimate display. “Until then, take this.” He said.

What he handed you was another key, this one large and iron, so unexpectedly heavy that you almost dropped it when he slipped it into your open palm.

“What is this for?” You ask, brine shimmering at the corners of your eyes, a losing fight to hold back the tears.

“It is for the basement.” He says, placing another parting kiss on the tip of your nose. “But you must promise me not to go in. It is very important, Engel.”

“What’s in the basement?” You asked, watching his eyes harden before he forced them to soften, his hand tightening around yours.

“Rats.” He said, voice stern and rough. “Lots and lots of rats. And mildew. So do as I say, Engel, and stay out of it. I do not wish to stay by your sickbed as you foam at the mouth from rabies or burn away from a fever.”

“Then why give me the key at all?” You ask, trying to hand it back only to be met with him slipping it into your pocket.

“Because this is your home too, Engel. It is only fair that you should be able to open every door to it.” He says, pressing his forehead to yours for a few moments before pulling away entirely, taking a deep breath. “And I trust you to heed my words and stay out of that room.”

“I will.” You say, grasping onto his sleeve before he could fully pull away. “I love you. Be safe. For me.”

“Ich liebe dich.” König parroted, eyes soft like warm butter on toast. “I am always safe, Engel.”

And that was it, the last words he said to you before riding away, leaving you standing and watching his carriage til it was too far gone to see. Til not even a speck was left on the horizon and the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

It was a week before you disobeyed your husband.

A week of curiosity gnawing at you like a little beast deep in your chest, eating away at you piece by microscopic piece. Little bites turned into bigger bites so steadily that you barely even realized that it was growing and swallowing you up.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Your mother’s voice whispered in your brain.

“But satisfaction brought it back.” The voices of your sisters all giggled in unison.

It was what echoed in your head as you stood outside the door, key clutched in both hands as you stared at the lock apprehensively, conversing with yourself like a mad man before finally making up your mind and slipping the key into the hole, the grating of metal on metal an irritation to your ears. But the sound of the lock clicking open, that was a spark of excitement in the ocean of anxiety that had built in your belly.

The first thing you registered about the room was the darkness. Like a void had opened up somewhere in the room and ate away at the very fabric of the world. You couldn’t see more then two feet in front of you, even with the lantern at your side.

The second thing you noticed was the smell.

Putrid, disgusting, foul. It hit your nose so hard that tears instantly welled in your eyes and you retched, mouth gaping as your breakfast tried to escape you to spill onto the rocky flooring. You stumbled in the darkness, trying to backpedal only to trip over your own feet and send your lantern skidding further into the room. Recklessly, you crawled after it, clothes catching on the jagged floor and tearing, the sound not even registering to you at first.

It was just as you caught the handle to the light that you saw it.

Fingers outstretched in the dark, splayed across the grey stone.

You froze, breath catching in your throat for so long that you went light-headed, eyes lasered in on those pale digits. Small fingers, delicate and smooth. Strangely, you thought of your mother’s hands. The feel of them straightening your clothes or cupping your cheeks.

Trembling, you raised the lantern just the slightest bit higher, choking on your own vomit when you saw it.

A heap of flesh and bone lying in the middle of the floor, bodies upon bodies, each in such varying degrees of decay that it was akin to a diagram. The bottom piece just a skeleton, no flesh to cling to anymore. And the top….she looked almost pristine from the angle you saw. Beautiful black curls and pink lips, milky eye staring into your soul, begging you for mercy. For help.

But when you reached out to touch her, to feel for a pulse, to help, her skull caved in and the mass writhed, maggots crawling out of mouths and ears, from skulls and arms.

You screamed so loud that even your mother and sisters must have heard you, all the miles away that they were.

“Oh, Engel.” Your husband’s voice called out behind you, followed by the heavy slam of the basement door. “I told you not to come in here.”

[kazemi-archive]

Reality Check pt.1

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader WC: ~0.7k     Genre: Angst Summary: not speaking to atsumu begins to wear on not only you, but osamu too. and your usually comforting friend has to break a hard truth to you. CW: mentions of crying/breakdown. based on how i have my breakdows lbr lol.

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Osamu sat on the edge of your bed and sighed. There was a crease in his brow as he took you in, and he looked… disappointed. It brought even more feelings of despair up in you. Osamu had never given you that look before.

The feeling curled inside of your stomach, hollowing it out and carving its way up to your chest. It was bad enough not talking to Atsumu. But now Osamu was staring at you with a look you’d seen plenty of times, but never directed at you.

He was always quick to comfort you. Osamu had always been there for you when you needed it, wrapped your body up in a hug and listening to what was wrong. You’d hoped for that when he’d come into your room. It wasn’t what you’d gotten this time.

The noticeable click that came from the lock on your door turning had let you know he was there. The key you’d given him letting him enter without you having to move to let him in. His eyes scanned your room before finding you curled into the empty space under your desk, your chair pushed to the side. The tell tale sign that you were having a hard time. Fitting yourself into the smallest space possible.

Usually Osamu would sit himself down next to you, intent to calm you down and pull you out of your space. Instead, he’d sat himself on the edge of your bed, across from you, looking down at your form hidden in the shadow of your desk.

“Wha’s wrong?” His voice was still kind as it floated into your ears.

Your sniffles filled the silence as you brushed at your wet cheeks, preparing to speak. “I miss him, Miysam.” Osamu sighed at the shakiness in your voice, at the way your body quivered under the stress of your current predicament. The time spent without one of your best friends.

Usually he would take his cue then, to provide you with some comforting words. Provide you with something to make you happier, to calm you, to make you know it was going to work itself out. He didn’t then. “I know.”  That was what he had to offer. His acknowledgement. And then one more piece of his knowledge. “There’s really no one t’blame but yerself here, is there?”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Not at all. In fact, it only seemed to slice the hurt deeper, to force the pain into a harsher wound. The tears streamed a little faster down your cheeks. “Miysam?” Your voice seemed smaller and Osamu nearly backtracked his line of conversation to spare your feelings more.

“Y/n/n.” He sighed out your nickname as he rubbed at his temple. “This’s gone on long ‘nough.” He tried to be gentle as he said the harsh words. “Y’know I love ya. I know yer hurtin’. But ya can’t keep goin’ on like this. Ya need t’tell ‘im the truth. He may be datin’ that girl, but ya created this mess now on yer own.” He shook his head again, tipping it back after to look at the ceiling. “Neither of us are talkin’ t’him now. S’hard on all of us m’sure.” He sat quietly then, the uneasiness of the silence settled over both of you, only broken by the occasional sniffle on your part. “I ain’t doin’ it n’more. I won’t tell ‘im, but y’needa talk t’him ‘gain.” He sat there on your bed for a moment longer before sighing again and standing. He brushed his palms against his thighs as he did so, turning towards your door, leaving as quickly as he’d come.

The emptiness of your room seemed to hurt more now than it had before Osamu had gotten there. And ache that Osamu had never left you to deal with on your own before. Everything was falling apart. Your cheeks burned from how you tried to rub the wetness away, but each time you brushed, there was more. Your soft sobs echoed in your small space and you tried to curl further into yourself.

Osamu and Atsumu were always your home. They held you up and sheltered you for nearly as long as you could remember. They kept you safe. Made you feel welcome. Made you feel like you could do anything, invincible.

Atsumu and Osamu were your home, one you were tearing apart.

TAGLIST : @the-last-shiv @iluv-ace

[peachyloveswriting]

Hi there! I was just wondering if i could request headcanons for knives and what he looks for in a partner (not that he would actively look but what would make him fall for the reader) and also what would make him and smile and laugh? I feel like he has the cutest laugh and we all know how beautiful his smile is!

If youre not comfortable with that, thats totally fine! Thank you though!

Yo. I'm doing smaller requests for now bc we went to a family thing today and that burns me out apparently. I'll write the other stuff later. For now I'm rolling with headcanons.

What makes you happy? --- Millions knives

SUMMARY: Headcanons of what knives wants in a relationship and what makes him happy.

To Knives, honesty and loyalty are two of his biggest needs. To be honest with him is to always speak the truth, how you feel, what you think, if he scares you... He wants to know it all and he wants to know it's the truth. Being loyal to him is for you to never mistreat him, it's not about following orders and it's not following in blind trust. Loyalty is to stay by his side, confide in him about your problems, being able to disagree with him and have your own thoughts. He doesn't want a mindless slave, he already has plenty of those, he just wants someone who's not afraid to say what they think.

He likes someone who's independent and doesn't need someone else to care for them. That includes basic needs. Knives likes to have peace of mind that you can care for yourself if he's not there. That makes his day to day much easier not having to watch someone constantly. Knives is however, a thorough enjoyer of keeping his partner company wherever they go. Sometimes, he doesn't want space and others he does. If his partner can understand that then it works out perfectly in the end.

Playing piano is just one of his past times. Though it's often you'll find yourself accompanying him while he plays these well drawn out tunes. This piqued your interest and you wanted to know how to play. Knives was against it at first but later on allowed you to watch him play and copy after him. He likes watching you try and piece together what he shows you and he even watches you try to play when you think he's not around. He enjoys the fact that you take interest in his hobbies.

Knives loves it when someone can sit down and listen to him rant for hours on end without cutting the conversation short or not really listening. You like listening to him talk and watching you intently stare at him when he rants makes his heart swell. Even better than this he loves in-depth conversations, not many are or have been close enough for such conversations to happen so any one who slips into this with ease is of interest.

When you actively try to get to know him, he feels seen or validated by the fact that you want to know him for who he really is and not who he comes off to be. Just mindless chatter while he talks about himself makes him feel content enough to place his trust in them. It takes a lot to fully earn his trust and it seems like there's so many barriers to break down but it's really a compliment to his personality.

When you finally learn to play a song for him on the piano, he's over the moon. To have someone else composing even an already written song for him is so personal. Just watching you intently stare at the keys as you focus is enough to make a smile break out onto his face.

Your curiosity at times makes him chuckle or laugh. You're so persistent to learn about all these different things that he tells you or shows you that it's entertaining. You show a willingness to learn and he loves that about you.

Vash isn't very big on physical touch however he loves it whenever you play with his hair. He likes how you'll braid random strands together for him to untangle later. He smiles every time he sees one, it reminds him of how gentle your hands work away at his head.

Though knives doesn't have to eat he still sits with you while you eat dinner anyways. He likes to sit and listen to you ramble on about your day, it makes him happy when you get all excited to talk about something.

Even though he doesn't need sleep either he lets you use his room for sleeping quarters. Oftentimes he'll lay beside you as you fall asleep the tips of your fingers tracing the design over his skin tight suit. He loves the way your touch makes him feel giddy inside.

When you compliment him he absolutely adores it and chases the attention. His all time favorite is your Nickname for him. "Angel, my angel," there are a few others but hearing you say that makes his heart soar in adoration.

On days where Knives is In a bad mood, he tends to lash out at anyone near him, you included. Yet even in those moments you treat him with care and patience. It reminds him that he doesn't always have to be so violent, that there's a part of him that can relax in your presence.

The others that work beneath him don't exactly like you, this leads to interesting situations. So when you absolutely chew one of them out for trying to do something he can't help but smile with pride.

He enjoys listening to your fixations and generally will get you something to do with that when the chance presents itself to him, he absolutely loves seeing you so excited and happy, it's contagious.

[wrathofrats]

Over and Overture (Sexual Perversity)

Pebble/alpha (who the hell are pebble and ivy? They’re old ghouls! Check this)

Explicit. WC: 3120

Pebbles eye twitches while he stares in disbelief. The entire situation has him ready to rip alpha limb from limb. Fucking with ivy just to mess with him, treating the poor new summon like some object? His hands ball up into fists as he watches alpha simply turn to walk away like nothing happned. Ivy pulls his shirt lower, his face so red you’d think he’s sick.

“I licked it so it’s mine dirt boy” alpha whispers moving past him. He’s going to kill him.

Or pebble is hopelessly in love with ivy and alpha has to make the situation has bad as possible for him.

Read under the cut on on Ao3

(Tags and Warnings for: humiliation, teasing, slightly dubious consent, pebble is so in love it’s sickening and alpha has to fuck him against a wall about it) (and an extra thanks to @divine-misfortune as usual for being a wonderful helper on this)

“Could you be any more obvious?” Alpha groans.

The sound of water running stops as Ivy moves to throw the last of the dishes in the sink. There’s a blush to his cheeks as he stands over the hot water, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbow as he works.

“What?” Pebble blinks after a couple seconds, furrowing his brow at alphas accusatory tone.

“You’re staring at him again”

“I zoned out. Call the police if you’re so mad about it” pebble rolls his eyes, focusing his gaze back at the kitchen where Ivy scrubs at the plate in his hand. He can’t help the way his mouth turns up slightly when ivy's tongue darts out between his lips in concentration. The new summon was adorable. Hes tall, shaggy brown hair, awkward and pebbles heart skips a beat everytime they make eye contact.

“You’ve been making fucking goo-goo eyes at him for weeks.” Alpha turns himself around on the couch to look back at the earth ghoul next to him. He honestly thinks he can see pink hearts float above his head when ivy blows a strand of hair out of his face. It makes him want to be sick.

“I have fucking not asshole”

“Do you think I’m stupid be honest”

“Actually-“ pebble starts

“Don’t answer that. I don’t know what’s worse, your stupid puppy love or the fact that he’s entirely oblivious to how you’re practically undressing him with your eyes right now” there’s a chuckle behind alphas voice as pebbles eyes grow wider and his face reddens at the accusation.

“Can you shut the fuck up? It’s not like that”

“Is it not? Tell me what it’s like then” alpha coos condescendingly as pebbles heart pounds, feeling caught in his own stupid embarrassing feelings.

“I’m about to tell you what having a bomb in your room is like if you don’t mind your own business. He’s a nice kid, nothing more.”

“Oh and that’s all?”

“Yes dumbass” pebble sighs

Alpha stands up looking behind him to give Ivy a small smile. There’s a crinkle to ivys eyes as he returns it, the cheesy all teeth grin lighting up his entire face even for a small friendly greeting.

His focus is torn away as alpha walks to the kitchen

“Just checking”

There’s barely any time for pebble to protest before alphas standing next to Ivy at the sink. They don’t even exchange words before alpha moves to crowd him against the counter, looming over his smaller frame with a look that can only be described as predatory.

Ivy gasps, looking up at alpha through his eyelashes as his breath picks up. He looks so small compared to alpha that pebble could just break something. That should be him making ivy react like that, not that disrespectful pervert.

Alpha leans his head down low to his ear, tucking a stray piece of hair out of the way and holding his chin still.

“Aren’t you such a pretty thing”

He noses low against his jawline, giving a small kiss to the side of his neck before licking him from jaw to temple, a small snarl beneath his breath that keeps Ivy still.

Pebbles eye twitches while he stares in disbelief. The entire situation has him ready to rip alpha limb from limb. Fucking with ivy just to mess with him, treating the poor new summon like some object? His hands ball up into fists as he watches alpha simply turn to walk away like nothing happned. Ivy pulls his shirt lower, his face so red you’d think he’s sick.

“I licked it so it’s mine dirt boy” alpha whispers moving past him. He’s going to kill him.

It’s not even the move that makes pebble furious, it’s having to watch Ivy scurry off to his room without finishing his duties because the poor thing is so turned on he can barely function. All from alphas stupid fucking stunt.

His blood boils.

Pebble almost sends alpha to the hospital a couple days later over dinner.

He really should’ve known something was up when alpha practically ran past him to get the chair next to ivy before he could. Pebble barely even touches his food, feeling nauseous over watching alpha fucking flirt like a school girl with ivy. It’s gross watching him dote, he wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up his fork and started feeding the new earth ghoul.

“You’ve got something on your cheek mint sprig” alpha smiles at Ivy about halfway through the meal “here- let me get it for you”

He leans over to lift ivys chin up while pebble watches in horror. The touch is delicate, much less harsh than he would usually touch anyone else. Ivy catches alphas eye and and bring himself to look away, the two staring in each others eyes while pebble grips the table so hard he may break it.

“Stay still for me”

He does. Of course he does. Ivy freezes as alphas thumb swipes over his bottom lip slowly, toying with it for a few seconds before pressing just the tip of it into his mouth. Pink and parted, a bit too willing to take what alpha is doing for pebbles sanity. He slides it back out, trailing saliva over his lip before letting go and wiping his own mouth with the same digit, seemingly satisfied. Ivy doesn’t even close his mouth when alpha lets go and the confused tilt of his head almost sends pebble overboard.

“Good boy, there you go”

An audible choke comes from the earth ghoul as alpha stands to put his plate away, leaving Ivy and pebble both flustered in their own rights to sit and stare down at the table.

The thoughts afterwards leave pebble disgusted, not only with alpha but with himself. He replays the scene in his head in slow motion more times than is really appropriate. Just watching alpha cover ivys lips with his own spit, Ivy just letting him play with his mouth. Pebbles imagination runs so far with the sight of Ivy getting flustered over being called pretty in the kitchen the other day that he has to take a cold shower before he goes to bed.

He desperately tries to push the instances out of his mind.

Pebble attempts to concentrate on the mop in his hand, completely on autopilot as he cleans the floor of the chapel. It’s tedious, boring, mind numbing, and a perfect distraction. The monotonous task clears pebbles brain as he picks up a steady rhythm.

He doesn’t know how long he had been mopping before he hears the creak of the heavy wooden door open behind him

“There you are, was looking for you sprout” alpha calls out.

Pebble sighs, “didn’t I tell you not to call me that?”

“Not the point”

Alpha can almost hear pebbles eye roll as he glares back down to continue his work.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” Alpha huffs

“No”

“Cmon, just wanted to have some fun with you baby” his hands wrap around pebbles waist, rubbing at his hip. Pebble doesn’t even glance up at him, attempting to fight against his grip. They sway together while pebble pushes back and forth. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t alpha and he wasn’t trying to fuck him nasty on the floor he just cleaned, pebble thought.

“What? still mad over my little thing with Ivy?”

The swaying stopped. Pebble gripped the wooden handle harder and swallowed thickly. The anger bubbled in him again and he attempted to study the patterns in the floor tiles as he desperately hoped alpha would drop it.

“Oh …. Oh that must be it then” alpha laughed. Pebble continued to stay still.

The mop was soon ripped from his hands and thrown to the side

“You don’t get to ignore me you fucking weed” alpha snarls.

Before pebble can protest alpha has him lifted up and shoved against the wall. His hands grip pebbles thighs, holding him tight against his hips as pebbles legs wrap around him instinctively.

“Put me the fuck down asshole” pebble growls, squirming against alphas grip.

“Have a little fun, dirt boy” alpha breathes against his neck, kissing and nipping just behind his ear earning a sharp breath from the earth ghoul wrapped around his waist.

“I have work to do idiot”

“It’s a small break, you can spare the time” alpha rubs his nails along the backs of pebbles thighs where he’s supporting him. The sensation makes his legs squeeze tighter around his waist as he leans into alphas mouth, going quiet. The silence is taken as an agreement as pebble relaxes a bit more in alphas grip, letting him bite along his throat.

“There’s the sweet boy I know” alpha laughs against his skin. He bites down onto pebbles shoulder earning a surprised whimper.

“Just touch me dumbass,” he demands.

“ I know you love this”

“I love getting off, not my fault you’re easy” pebbles tone is unconvincing. Shaky and high as alpha shoves his hands under his shirt to dig his claws into the plush skin of pebbles torso, earning a needy moan.

“Speaking of easy, I wish you could’ve seen your cute little boyfriend when I got my mouth on him in the kitchen.”

Alpha emphasizes his words with a roll of his hips. He holds pebble tight as he continues to run his teeth along his neck.

“Dont fucking talk about him.” Pebble rolls his eyes annoyed. Theres a breathiness to his tone as he closes his eyes to take in the feeling of alphas lips against his skin. He knows alpha is just trying to get under his skin.

“Oh I just thought you’d appreciate the information doll face. God he was so pretty looking up at me through those long eyelashes of his, wonder if he’d look better on his kn-“

“Shut the fuck up” pebble growls. claws into alphas back, pebble trying to threaten him into being quiet. There’s a pang of guilt in his stomach over hearing alpha talk about Ivy in such a way but it only makes it worse that his mind starts to wonder.

“You really should’ve seen him when I got my finger in his mouth, almost drooled over it the pathetic thing”

Alpha continues to force their hips together, feels how hard pebble is against him and can’t help but laugh a bit while pebble continues to protest and tear at his shirt.

“Just fuck me already please” pebble whimpers out, rutting his hips along with alphas

“I wonder if he would’ve let me. Just allow me to fuck his pretty little mouth with my fingers in front of everyone? He seems pretty easy, I’m sure he would’ve loved it”

Pebble wishes everyday alpha could just fuck him normally.

“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out if you don’t stop talking about him” his voice pitches and pebble curses while alpha grinds against him. It feels good, it shouldn’t feel good and fuck he shouldn’t be thinking about Ivy while alpha humps him against the wall and he hates that he’s even allowing this.

“Such a pretty rosebud isn’t he pebble? God I’d love to hear him like this, wonder if he whines as much as you do”

“Don’t fucking touch him, don’t ever put your fucking hands on him or I’ll-“

“Oh why? Because you want to do it? Wanna be the first to get your cock in the innocent little thing?” Pebble yelps when alpha bites down into his neck again. It’s an unfair game he’s playing, alpha knows him inside and out and pebbles going to fucking kill him when they’re done. He can’t move, can only just listen to alpha whisper absolute filth about ivy in his ear as they roll their hips together. He feels gross, dirty for getting off on it.

“Shut up shut up alpha I swear just shut the fuck up and put your cock in me alpha please-“

Alpha can tell he’s struggling, swallowing down his own pathetic noises while his dick twitches in his pants every time alpha mentions ivy.

“Protest all you want, I can feel how hard you are over him sweetheart”

“I’m not, just want you, I’m begging please just make me cum” pebble can’t help but move his hips along with alphas, shove a hand in his hair and pull him forward to get his lips back on him.

“God youre disgusting. You’re really getting off on this? Maybe you should just moan his name instead if you’re so desperate for him”

Pebble shakes his head, bites his cheek so hard he can taste blood. He doesn’t want to give alpha the satisfaction of getting to him, he’s not some gross pervert like he is.

The pace is too good, borderline too much and pebble doesn’t know how much longer he can control himself. Alpha knows exactly how to touch him, break him down until he’s a whimpering mess and pebble just tries to pray to whatever is out there that alpha shows him some mercy.

Alpha gives a particularly good roll of their bodies together that has pebbles thighs shaking.

“Fuck- ivy!” He yells before his brain can catch up.

“Oh you little fucking pervert.” Alpha laughs. The humiliation could just eat pebble alive as he tries to squirm away once again. “You are getting off on him! God you’re sick, what if I told him about this huh? Tell him you moaned his name while fucking me?”

Pebble wants to scream. “I’m going to fuck kill you, be fucking quiet don’t you dare” his brain feels like mush, he’s getting close and he can’t spit the words he wants to say out and god knows alpha isn’t slowing down. He feels brainless, ashamed, stupid even and his vision blurs as he thinks alpha is speeding up.

“god he would think you’re disgusting, poor thing probably barely fucking knows how to touch himself and you’re getting off on him?”

“I’m not fuck you shut up don’t you fucking dare tell him alpha please”

It’s too much, he feels hot even against the cool stone wall, he’s sure there’s a bit of drool falling from his lip and he doesn’t know if he can continue to fight before alpha forces the orgasm out of him.

“Know you’re close wildflower, come on, cum for him”

Pebble spills in his pants with a loud shaky curse, grinding himself forward through it. It feels good, too good and his mind goes numb as it washes over him.

“There you go baby, that’s it” alphas tone softens while pebble comes down. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and lets him down off the wall onto shaky legs. He keeps a steady hand on his torso to make sure he’s stable and waits for pebble to look back up at him to ensure he’s ok

“Doing alright? Feel ok?”

“You’re an asshole”

“I’m glad you’re alright” alpha smiles

Pebbles pants feel wet and sticky and utterly disgusting. His underwear sticks to him as he attempts to move to get the uncomfortable feeling to go away.

“If you wanna be good for me you’ll stay like that.” Alpha tips pebbles chin up to him. It’s hard not to smile at how flushed he is, face entirely pink with glassy eyes. “Don’t you dare change, want you to feel how gross you are all day ok wildflower?”

Alpha really just wants to see if he will listen, if he’s broken him down enough to follow a command.

Pebble growls as a response and pushes alpha away from him.

“I’m just too lazy to shower dickhead, I still have work to do no thanks to you” pebble picks up his mop again, cringing at how his pants stick

“I know you just like to listen doll face, you love being good for me”

Pebble tries to hide his face as he blushes, “I would love more if you were dead”

“I’m sure if I check on you later you still be like this, maybe ivy will smell it on you, see how sweet you smell when you’re turned on” alpha reaches down to take himself out of his pants, stroking himself while he watches pebble fumble upon seeing him

“What are you doing?” Pebble squeaks, gawking at the sight.

“I never got to cum, and I’m sure as hell not going walk around all day all messy like you, I actually have some dignity”

“I- why here?”

“Because I have such a pretty little sight right in front of me.. You know how much my good boy gets to me” alpha moans, speeding up his movements.

“I’m not your good boy asshole” pebble stutters out, he tries to protest and threaten but oh alpha can tell how much it gets to him. He sees how flustered he gets when he praises him.

“Mhm, you say that but you were just begging for me to get my cock in you right?” His hand works faster, thumb sliding over his slit gathering the pre that was threatening to fall down his shaft.

Pebble just stares at the scene, mouth watering and too light headed to fight with him anymore

“You’re not just going to cum on the floor are you?” Pebble scoffs as alphas strokes get more desperate

“If you don’t want it on the floor don’t let it get on the floor then sweetheart”

Pebble curses and drops to his knees. Still fuzzy and chubbing up a bit again in his pants and it’s really not his fault that he immediately moves to kneel in front of him, hoping to catch whatever alpha is willing to give him.

“See? Knew you were my good boy.”

Pebble can’t help but whimper at his feet.

It’s quick, alpha reaching down to force pebbles mouth open using his other hand to move his cock to rest on those sweet red bitten lips of his. It only takes a couple strokes before alpha is spilling into his mouth, having pebble greedily swallow it down and move forward to lick him clean.

“Ah, don’t be selfish wildflower, maybe if you do what I told you I’ll give you more later” alpha pulls pebble back by his hair. He reaches down to help him back to his feet, checking him over before giving him a small kiss on his forehead.

“Still ok?”

“Still fucking uncomfortable” pebble grumbles

“Maybe ill do something about that later then”

alpha tucks himself back into his pants and walks over to the mop bucket, kicking it over

“What the fuck?”

“That’s for ripping my shirt” alpha laughs, walking toward the door leaving pebble flustered and angry

“I fucking hate you”

[sugusat0us]

drag racer!toji hcs

wc : idk :3

content : fem reader, modern!au, no curses!au, suggestive (?) content (reader strips), toji calls reader "minx" and "doll", reader is described to be smaller than toji, slightly oblivious reader, profanity

notes : read this for some context ! drag racer!toji *vibrates* i need. . . to expand on him. . .

whenever you seem upset about something, toji always tries to cheer you up. he may not be a man of many words, but he always finds other ways to lift your spirits.

after a bad day, you decided to hang around toji's mechanic shop. he's always had a keen eye, so it's no surprise that he picked up on your somber mood quite swiftly. he decides to swing by the break room and grabs two cold cans of your favorite drink. "here, thought this'd cheer y'up." he says, reluctantly offering you the chilled drink with a sheepish expression on his face, avoiding your gaze. "how'd you know i even like this?" you ask, gratefully accepting the metal can that began to sweat under the summer's heat, pressing it to your warm cheek. "saw some empty cans of it when you dropped off y'r ride off to get it detailed," toji replies as he settles his large frame beside the set of stairs you were seated on. "you know," he begins as he cracks his own can open, "y'should keep that ride of yours cleaner. s' a stunner of a car, that's for sure." but his words seemingly go in one ear and out the other. the fact that he remembered such a small detail about you makes you forget whatever had upset you earlier.

rivals to lovers. . . mayhaps. . .

one day, you and toji got into a small argument over who's smarter out of the two of you. so, to settle the quarrel, you both decided on taking one of those completely-bullshit online tests.

as you were diligently taking this "free iq test," you couldn't help but notice toji repeatedly clicking the "c" option. . . for every single question. jokingly, you asked, "why are you choosing 'c' for everything? do you wanna lose?" with the biggest shit-eating grin spread across his scarred lips, toji replied, "well, when in doubt pick 'c', right?" in that moment, your expression changed from shock to amusement. shaking your head and laughing, you couldn't believe that of all people, toji was the one you couldn't get over.

unsurprisingly, toji is really street-smart

one time, the cops raided a race that you and toji were supposed to participate in. as you were hurrying to get to your car to make a quick getaway, you noticed toji struggling to open the door to one of his older cars that he chose to race in that night.

"fushiguro! leave it, we don't have any time!" you shout at toji over the loud commotion and sirens. "they're gonna tow my ride!" toji growls back, growing more impatient at the stuck door handle. "you're worried about the wrong thing right now. just get in my car, shiu'll figure something out! he always gets everyone's shit back if the price is right." you reason. toji notices how your tone only grew increasingly concerned, so he begrudgingly complies. "fine, fine. i'll go with you. jus' drop me off at the shop. or swing us around the spot for a bite, all this crap has got my stomach grumblin'." he sighs as he ducks down into the passenger seat of your car, clicking his seatbelt on. you raise a brow at his notorious freeloader suggestions. "your a real piece of work, fushiguro, y'know that?" you joke as you pull out of the crowded meet-up scene. "s' only fair! you don't ask a guy out and not buy him some grub," he huffs, jokingly crossing his arms across his broad chest and turning to face the window. "that is definitely not what the saying is, and i definitely did not ask you on a date!" you exclaim, exasperated. toji really is something else.

another time, you stopped by toji's shop hoping he could walk you through an oil change on one of your older cars. the truth was, you already knew how to do it, but you just wanted to spend some time with toji.

"tojiiii?" you called out in a sing-song tone, but he was nowhere in sight. it wasn't until he heard your honeyed voice ringing through the shop that he hopped off his ass and jogged over to greet you, his cheeks stained with grease and his white tank top and jumpsuit covered in it. not that you were complaining, but you wished you could see him wearing his jumpsuit properly instead of with the upper half tied around his well-defined torso. "wha'sup doll? why're you here dressed up nice?" he asked, resting his hands on his hips as he scanned your smaller frame. "thought you could show me how to do an oil change on one of my older cars. . . but i completely forgot how messy this place can get. i shoulda worn something else, huh?" you nervously grinned, not prepared for the possibility of rejection. "oh, yeah! no worries. f'sure i can. i got some spare jumpsuits and tanks you can change into. don't worry 'bout it." your request initially shocked him, but he grew excited at the opportunity to both spend time with you and teach you something. "seriously?! you're the best, toji!" you exclaim, gratefully taking both of his large, calloused hands in yours. toji blushes. "don' mention it. it's nothin'." he replies before retracting one of his hands to run down his face, unable to believe the effect you have on him. he starts to lead you down to his office so you can change into some more appropriate clothing, but he forgets that your hand is still in his. the skin-to-skin contact is short-lived as he lets go of your hand to unlock the office door. "here're the smallest jumpsuit and tank i got. lemme know if y'need anything-" he says, turning to hand you the clothes. however, he soon gets choked up mid-sentence as you've already started stripping your top off in front of him. "yeah! i'll get you toji, don' worry." you reply, your voice muffled from behind your top. clearly, you don't understand the effect you have on toji. "what're you doing, you minx? i'm still in here!" he splutters as he clambers out of his office, both his ears and neck now warm. "fucking christ. . ." he groans, making his way towards the washroom to cool down his face with some water.

after that entire fiasco, toji often played pranks with you while you were under your car changing its oil. he does all sorts of things, from splashing water on the lower half of your frame that hangs from under the car to dragging you out by your ankles. he's so annoying (affectionate).

tags : @yunymphs @prttyangelz @maeby-cursed

© 2023, sugusat0us

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

PLEASE. PLEASE I NEED ECLIPSE TO CARVE A PUMPKIN IDC HOW IT HAPPENS JUST GET THEM A PUMPKIN PLEASE

Pumpkins - 969 words

“I need your biggest pumpkin.”

The pumpkin seller gave you the flat look of a woman who had been told the same statement at least five times before you’d shown up and she fully expected to keep hearing the same thing after you left. Letting out a long sigh, she gestured to the broad spread of pumpkin patch ahead of you.

“It’s self-service, you take what you can find,” she intoned. “Have a spooky blast finding your perfect pumpkin. The weighing scales are up by the entrance, we do not provide trolleys to transport from the harvest patch to your vehicle.”

“That’s okay, we came on foot! And we have plenty of hands.” 

Her eyes went from you to the dog by your side, unassuming. And then her gaze tracked slowly up and up behind you, and garnered that expression of surprise you were quickly getting used to. Even after putting him in your biggest hoodie, thick overcoat, and wrangling an extra long pair of cargos from an online shopping site, he still caught eyes wherever he went with you.

“He’s shy,” you said quietly as Sun raised a hand and waved. The seller waved back, stepping aside for the three of you to shuffle onto the pumpkin patch proper. 

It took about an hour for the three of you to find four good pumpkins. Sun was extremely excited for this, and you let him go running off freely to find his own personal pumpkin. Moon had already talked to you the night before about what sort of pumpkin he wanted, and you obliged to his wants, picking out a smaller one that easily fit into both of your hands. Montague would hop across the trails, sniffing around the pumpkins for any possible smell of rot, but otherwise keeping his distance - you two would share, as was the easiest way when one friend didn’t have opposable thumbs.

But you also had another to pick a pumpkin out for, and Eclipse specifically had asked to be surprised. Easy enough to do, since this was his first Halloween and not only was he excited but they had been decorating after finding your old stash from three years ago. 

It was nice, being genuinely excited about this holiday for the first time in a while.

Montague’s low whuff caught your attention. Hurrying around the end of one of the plots, you saw what he’d found and the glee in your chest warmed up into a bright grin.

“Oh. Oh yes,” you said softly. “He’s going to love this one.”

-

Three hours later, involving having Sun carry all your goods back to the train station, wobbling your quad bike back to the cabin, and an obscene amount of pumpkin disembowelment: it was time. 

“So, what did you guys carve?” You leaned over to glance at Sun and Eclipse’s pumpkins, sat proudly hollow on the newspaper-covered table. You’d done this outdoors just in case, but you didn’t know the extent of the splattering that would occur (and since you were going to be cleaning juice out of your hair tonight, the preparations had been underwhelming).

“I did a crescent moon!” Sun said proudly. “I don’t think the clouds were that good, I kept breaking pieces off.”

“Hey, it’s good for your first attempt.” Sure the moon was a bit wonky and, yes, bits of the clouds were more jagged than smooth. But you hadn’t expected masterpieces anyway, so the fact it was recognisable was all good.

“Is that a moon on your’s too?” Sun asked, leaning his head over to peek.

“Full moon! And a werewolf, kind of.”

“I modelled,” Montague chimed in from below, his tail thudding on the dirt ground at an ever increasing rate.

“And what about you?” You turned now to Eclipse, still licking bits of pumpkin scraps and juice from his claws. Smacking their feathery lips, they crouched down fully to grin alongside the pumpkin.

“Me,” they chirped. Sure enough, there were two pairs of eyes and a very wide, very jagged grin stretching right across the pumpkin that was at least twice the size of his head. Lots of surface area to work on, and they’d shredded most of it as snack food.

Laughing softly, you ruffled through Eclipse’s feather ruff, his head nuzzling hard into your hand as he hummed and they purred and you half expected them to bowl you over in their enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay. Help me clean up the insides, this will make at least a week’s worth of curry, maybe some muffins too,” you said, gesturing to the plastic bowls dotted around. You’d made sure to rig a few bowls with bucket handles for Montague to lift through too, but after carrying everything inside, you need to box it all for refrigeration. Thankfully many hands made light work, and you had many hands to help you out. 

An hour in and Moon was out, and the pair of you ducked outside with Moon’s pumpkin in his hands. Fireflies began to flit around the edge of the clearing as he carved away, with you sharing stories of the day and him sharing stories of Halloween at the Pizzaplex. No peace was yet left, as eventually Eclipse came bounding after you, full of energy and pumpkin seeds and intent on peppering you with the latter. Dew soaked into your jumper but nothing would drown the mood as the pair of you rolled over on the grass, Montague sitting next to Moon and the pair exchanging a quiet look. 

Soon, four pumpkins sat in the window of your cabin, while four figures bustled around your kitchen in the constant process of boxing and weighing crushed pumpkins and seeds. One a werewolf, one a demon, one a moon, and one a lonely blackbird in a night sky.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Captain Hands! Besides hands: what other physical parts and/or expressions are you watching for the most in dramas? What physicalities (besides intimacy, heh) give you the most clues into the psyche of a character?

BESTIE 

BESTIE COME ON, I STILL HAVE TO WATCH ABSOLUTE ZERO AND INSTEAD HERE YOU ARE PUTTING DIFFICULT QUESTIONS IN MY ASK BOX!! 

And you’ve fucked me further by excluding the intimate scenes, when you KNOW THAT THOSE ARE SO FUCKING RIFE WITH PHYSICALITY, CHOREOGRAPHY, AND EMOTIONAL WEIGHT 

GAHHHHHHH 

Ugh. Ok. Fine. Just know you did this to yourself because I look at fucking everything, which is part of why it can take me three hours to watch a 45 minute episode of something. 

So there are a couple different things that I love looking at when I am analyzing characters, their body language, and what they are thinking. That said, I think everything after this is extremely subjective and often times hard to give an explanation for why (for example [and just to sneak in a hands example] James gives an incredible performance as Uea, and also, when I see him on screen as Uea I feel like he is paying too much attention to how his hands are laying in a scene since he has to femme himself up a bit. Why do I think that? No clue). 

An additional problem to this is that what I look for is variable depending on the actor themselves and how many things I know them from. For example, I didn’t think Earth was a good actor at first when I watched A Tale of a Thousand Stars because Phupa was *so* repressed that he just read flat to me, and I literally went and sought out other EarthMix pieces, at that time I think only Cupid’s Last Wish was available, to see how Earth performed in that and it grew my appreciation for the fact that he can act.

So, what other things, besides hands, do I look for in the physicality of an actor that makes me understand their character? 

Eyes

Hands and eyes are some of the most expressive parts of a body, and you can learn a lot about people from looking in their eyes. 

There are three main things I am looking for when I am parsing a character’s thoughts or feelings: Eyelid/Eyebrow Movement, Eye Movement, and Eye Shine.

Eyelid/Eyebrow Movement

Not sure if this makes sense, but I am looking for small movements such as eyes narrowing, or getting bigger, or an eyebrow being quirked (shout out to Mark Pakin in Only Friends quirking his eyebrow at Boston when they meet for the first time at the phone repair shop). Obviously for this, as for all things, there are levels to it, if a character is someone fundamentally incapable of keeping their emotions close to the chest, you are going to see that in larger reactions, extremely visible, eyebrow raises, eyes that obviously narrow quickly, etc. Or for characters that are repressed, surprised, distrusting, or otherwise mysterious, I may be looking for smaller reactions, just a little eye twitch if something is getting to them, minimal dipping of an eyebrow if someone is, say, confused. And variations in that are going to be so interesting, for example if a character who is typically good at hiding his emotions suddenly gets a deeply furrowed brow, or has his eyes widen dramatically you know shit is suppppppeeeerrrr fucked. 

gif by @klausbens

Nick is both demonstrating the eyebrow movement, and the next thing I look for...

Eye Movement 

Oh BL boys constantly looking down at their crushes lips, how I love theeeeeee. When I am looking at eye movement, I am usually looking to see how many times someone breaks eye contact with another character, how quickly they return to that eye contact, and where they are looking. Ray in Only Friends is looking very disrespectfully at Sand, and you can tell that Ray is admiring the goods by how slowly his eyes move ever lower. This is an extremely obvious example, because there isn’t really even dialogue happening at the point in time at which Ray is checking Sand out in his bathroom. I live for the moments where characters are talking to eachother, but their eyes keep flitting down to the other person’s lips cause they just wanna kiss them so bad. 

This doesn’t even have to be a ‘let me stare at your lips three times in thirty seconds” or a “let me stare at your lips for thirty seconds” deal either. In moments like Laws of Attraction, Episode 7 where Tin is a wash of frantic eye movements to assess Charn for injuries. You can tell he’s just anxiously taking Charn in, looking to make sure that he’s okay. 

gif by @spicyvampire

Eye Shine 

Eye shine is such a vital fucking part of acting, if I watch something and someone consistently has dead eyes it takes me out of the story a bit, makes me think that either they are a bad actor or that they were not interested in being on that film set. But if a character with bright and shiny eyes, suddenly has dead eyes, oohhhhh the juiciness, ohhhhh the trauma that has been unleashed upon that character. For as much as I have been shit talking Dangerous Romance, I will give it to Chimon that Sailom’s dead eyes after he is almost burned with the iron are incredible. Peat similarly does a great job of this in the last episode of Love in the Air when Prapai rescues Sky from Gun. 

gif by @moonkhao

Bright in I Feel You Linger in the Air is absolutely crushing it in the eye shine department. You do not have to look at Yai for more than ten seconds any time Jom is in the room to see the human equivalent of the heart eye emojis appear. Though we only really started a romance at the end of Episode 6 and we didn’t spend a lot of time in Episode 7 actually focused on Jom and Yai’s relationship, I do not doubt their attraction to one another for one second because of how Yai looks at Jom. 

Film in Laws of Attraction absolutely destroys the ‘I am actively thinking about fucking you, or getting fucked by you,’ aka horny eye shine as Charn in Episode 8 after Charn and Tin kiss at their wedding. I think we are all aware of (as @shortpplfedup calls them) Mix’s ‘fuck me’ eyes in Moonlight Chicken, so on and so forth. 

The change in Neo’s eyes in Ep. 5 of Only Friends before he digs his claws in to Ray? Superb, I saw that look and knew Boston was about to be a shit stirrer. 

Low key, I think part of what makes First such a great actor is the fact that he has really big eyes, because First is a very skilled micro-expressive actor, having facial features that are slightly larger than average I presume (in full speculation) is easier to read the microexpressions. At least for me. For example, it is easier for me to tell when say First in The Eclipse or Mix in Moonlight Chicken are doing micro expressions, especially when it comes to eye shine, than it is for me with Earth in A Tale of a Thousand Stars or Kao in Until We Meet Again. 

Posture 

I look at how a character holds themselves in space, do they feel stiff constantly, do they feel loose? Where are they relaxed, how are they relaxed, are they leaning in, are they leaning out? Do they stutter and stumble (Ray in Only Friends), are they ramrod straight (Akk in The Eclipse), when and where do they melt (Ren and Kazuma in Tokyo in April Is…), when are they experiencing joy (Karl dancing in Gaya Sa Pelikula), when does a character experience desire and especially when do they yank on the leash they have tied around their desire and snap it back behind a door (Pran in Ep 5 of Bad Buddy, Teh in Ep 3 of ITSAY), where does a character place themselves (Hira and Kiyoi in Utsukushi Kare).

gif by @eohachu

If I had to pick one master of posture out of every performer I have seen in a BL, it is hands down, without a shadow of a doubt, no contest, and zero time needed to think, Billkin in his performance as Teh in I Told Sunset About You/I Promised You the Moon. That boy is awkward as hell and I drank in every second of it. But Teh’s posture changes so much in this show, he’s constantly tense, but you can see how some of that falls away when it’s just Oh and Teh together, or when Teh’s attention is on Oh because he leans more forward in his chair, or when he is thinking about things and kinda stressed about them and he is shaking his leg anxiously under the table. Teh is constantly fidgeting and Billkin shows that so well

gif by @thii-nii

One of my favorite acting moments in Only Friends so far is the fight scene in Episode 5, but especially how fucking pissed you can tell Ray is from the way he is breathing and how drunk and ready to continue a fight he is by him being unsteady on his feet

gif by @bird-inacage

And as an aside, some of my takeaways from watching characters aren’t so much about the characters, but about the actors. For example, Saint in Step by Step is too stiff all the time, like he’s aware of the camera and he’s not comfortable being there, and I had hoped as time went on in the show he would give a stronger performance because I could see the bones there, but he just didn’t have the fluidity. And there were a couple scenes towards the end of Step by Step where I do genuinely think he showed major improvement from where he started. 

Similarly, Copter as Lomfon in La Pluie is very stiff, and seeing the behind the scenes, that seems to just be how Copter himself is. But pairing him with Suar is going to make it difficult for Copter to shine in my opinion because of how relaxed and expressive Suar is as an actor.

Speaking of expressions…

Facial Expression 

“Yeah, yeah, Captain Hands, facial expressions, obviously” 

Okay but like, I really really struggle when it comes to microexpressions, and I will watch scenes like four or more times in a row staring only at one character’s face to try to see everything they are doing with their face so I can get a better understanding of how they are reacting, what they are thinking, or feeling. I did this for Phupa a ton in Our Skyy 2 because at someone point in it, and possibly because I have become more familiar with Earth at this point and can read his face much better, something clicked and I started being able to see Phupa’s reactions much more clearly. 

Great example of this (especially in conjunction with posture) is Shiro in What Did You Eat Yesterday? when he fights with Kenji, and tells Kenji to leave and Kenji turns to go. You can see the panic set in to Shiro’s face, the way his mouth drops open, and he kinda moves his jaw like he’s trying to think of something to say. It is such a beautiful demonstration of how deeply Shiro loves Kenji, seeing how scared Shiro is of actually losing him, even when he is incapable of saying “I love you” to Kenji. And that set up early on really helps guide the show, and builds wonderfully up to Shiro’s panicked breakdown near the end of the WDYEY movie when he thinks Kenji is dying cause he dyed his hair. 

gif by @dengswei

Or the way Kenji's face falls when Shiro says "I know you're hurting"

Other examples of very busy faces with lots of things going on that tell me a great deal of information about the characters: Sengtian in La Pluie when he’s watching Lomfon’s video, his jaw drops ever so slightly and quirks to the side a bit and you can tell he’s mad even before he storms out; Akk in The Eclipse, I mean I feel like this one doesn’t really need an explanation, but god is there some good frustrated intakes of breath when Ayan needles at him; Yutaka and Minoru in Our Dining Table (are great examples of eye movement as well) but when Minoru is rambling about his feeling for Yutaka and Yutaka opens his mouth slightly and takes in a breath like he’s going to speak, and then he doesn’t? Superb; 

Sorry to keep bringing up the same handful of shows but they are the ones I’ve watched more recently so they’re what immediately springs to mind. But, in Episode 8 of Only Friends you can tell Ray is feeling kinda bad from very early on in the conversation because he swallows hard after Sand asks about Mew and then has varying levels of face fall when Sand hits him with yet another passive comment.

Aura

God, I do not know how to explain this one at all, because it’s not something I am really actively investigating, but does very much shape how I engage with certain characters, and that is just the invisible vibe they give off. And yes, I understand that an aura is an intangible thing, but to give off an aura in television requires a number of physical elements all working in tandem. Teh, for example just radiates anxiety, frenetic energy, and there are a number of little things Billkin is doing like posture, like eye movement, like facial expression to aide that but those are things that would usually tell me that Teh is anxious, rather than me getting hit with a wave of anxiety through my screen. Similarly the believability of the magnetism between Teh and Oh in PP’s performance, as well as PP and Billkin’s work as scene partners that you can feel the pull between them. 

gif by @tehohaews

I could ramble ever longer as I am sure you are aware, but I will stop here for the sake of making sure whoever is reading this is maintaining even a single scrap of sanity after my very long winded reply. Hope this answered your question? 

TL;DR: Beyond hands I look at eyelids, eyebrows, eye movement, eye shine, posture, and facial expressions including hard swallows and sharp intakes of breath to get a sense of what a character is thinking or feeling.

[speakeasyaoi]

Mitzi May x F!Reader

> Requested by anonymous | Mitzi makes me question my sexuality sometimes I won't even lie- I love her. She needs more recognition. She's wife material

PROMPT: N/A

After the fallout of her marriage with Atlas, Mitzi is a little desperate to find some way to fill that hole he left in her heart. Though she tries to cling on to the fleeting memory of her ex-husband to the best of her ability, finding someone new to take his place is a necessity for her to eventually move on, a necessity which you end up fulfilling. By the time you meet her, and even when you start a relationship with her, she's still rather attached to her previous marriage, in both big and small ways, but over time she'll gradually grow more open to her new relationship and start to move on from her previous ones.

And on that note, Atlas's recent passing makes her take steps in her relationship with you much slower than she would in other situations. As much as she yearns to be close to you, it's a long while before she's able to shake off all that lingering guilt that comes with finding someone new in her life.

Mitzi feels the need to be a bit secretive about the fact that she's dating another woman--her business is already in shambles as it is, rumors and gossip about Lackadaisy's newfound owner being a sapphist* will only make her financial situation worse--but despite that, she's more than willing to be with you out in public in ways that aren't as blatantly romantic. She keeps you on her arm like a piece of eye candy, taking you out to the shops or to brunch or just walking around St. Louis and seeing the sights. Once she's warmed up to you, you're practically inseparable.

She loves dancing with you. She's more keen on more tender dances, like slow dancing, but in all honesty she's more interested in the intimacy of it then she is in following any silly rules or steps. She thinks it's rather endearing if you're a bit clumsy or not well versed in dancing, and guides you through it to the best of her ability.

In private, she's significantly more flirty and romantic than she'd be in the presence of a crowd, practically smothering you. She finds it entertaining to come up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist, kissing along your neck without warning to watch your reaction and leaving a trail of lipstick stains along your skin.

Despite it being a rather unintelligent business decision, she likes to treat you to the Lackadaisy bar on the house. ("On the house" being on Wick's tab. Not that he'd notice.) Her ideal date is something along the lines of spending a night alone with you and a bottle of fine alcohol, and once that's said and done, you're probably going to have to nurse her through her hangover in the coming morning. ...On the bright side, it only serves to make her even more infatuated with you.

After a long, tiring day at work, Mitzi likes to unwind by setting you down in her lap as she brushes and/or braids out your hair. It's a quiet ritual for her to just take a bit of a break every once in a while. She also enjoys doing your makeup for you and dolling you up in the morning.

Mitzi is a very praising partner by nature, and while words aren't her main love language, she's more than generous when it comes to petnames and compliments. She'll frequently call you 'sweetheart', 'dear', or 'honey', likely paired with a chaste kiss on your cheek or jawline.

She cherishes every little gift and bit of your attention you give her, and holds it very close to her heart. If you give her a peice of jewelery, she wears it practically daily (think of Atlas's pearl necklace), and if it's something else, say a practical item or article of clothing, she makes sure to use it at every opportunity she can. While she loves to be spoiled, smaller, more personal things warm her heart.

Other notes: *Sapphist in this case is historically accurate terminology for a women who likes other women- sapphic, queer or bisexual would be a more modern term of the same meaning. Or maybe it isn't that historically accurate. I don't really know

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I WILL CAPTAIN THIS SHIP GODDAMNIT

(By which I mean, I will write a proper story for Jack and Harding to convince everyone to hop on the ship)

Jack doesn't know how long he's been sitting at his desk. He still wears his watch face on the inside of his wrist like he's done since flight training, and he refuses to keep a clock in his office. He doesn't need easy access to proof of how many hours a day he spends behind his desk. 

There's a knock on the door, and he's almost relieved. He can't leave until he's done with the paperwork (and writing the condolence notes to the families), but he can at least look up, rub his eyes, and say, "Enter."

A runner walks in, saluting crisply as he holds out a folded piece of paper. Jack takes it and opens it, hoping it's not another note from the pub about whatever fuckery his boys have gotten into this time. 

19:00 my quarters for dinner - paperwork or no. Send confirmation. - Col. H.

Jack turns his wrist to check the time. It's 17:30. He snorts at Chick's clearly intended timing: delivered early enough he can still get some work done; requiring Jack's attendance late enough he won't be willing to go back to work the moment dinner is over. If Chick weren't such a stellar leader of their men, he'd call it cheating. 

He signs his name under Chick's own, folds the note, and gives it back to the runner. "Dismissed," he says. 

The runner snaps off another salute and leaves. Jack stretches and winces when his back pops. He sits back down and looks at his paperwork, figuring out what he can really put a dent in before he leaves for dinner. 

*

85 minutes later, Jack's reviewed three reports and signed off. He's also laid out the stationary for the condolence notes along with the list of names of the men they've lost on the last two runs. They'll be easier in the morning when he's fresh, though they're never actually easy.

He stands and walks to his looking glass. He unrolls his shirt sleeves and buttons the cuffs, then pulls on his uniform jacket and buttons it as well. He smooths his hair, which has gotten a bit frizzy in the day's humidity, and then he puts on his hat. He shakes his legs to make sure his trousers fall properly, and then he leaves his office. The sun is just starting to set, and Jack is certain Chick planned this dinner on that fact. He has a west-facing window with a view of the horizon, and watching the sun dip down sounds relaxing and nice.

Chick's hut is next to headquarters, the same size as a full officer's barracks, but his rank makes it his alone. Jack has his own hut as well, but it's smaller and tucked in a cluster with other senior officers. Jack likes his space, but Chick's is much more comfortable for entertaining. 

He knocks on the door, and a few seconds later, Chick opens the door. He looks similar to what Jack had looked like a few minutes ago: Jacketless with his shirt sleeves rolled up, though Chick fills out his uniform shirt more fully than Jack. Where's Jack's rolled cuffs are always a bit loose on his forearms, Chick's cuffs are snug, showing off the width of his arms that reflects in the rest of his body. 

"Right on time, Major," Chick says, stepping aside and waving an arm to welcome Jack in. "Join me."

Jack steps inside, and Chick closes the door, and Jack takes off his hat, and Chick pulls him close, and they share a warm, easy kiss.

"You look like shit," Chick says when they break apart. 

Jack smacks him on the shoulder. "Fuck you, too," he replies. 

Chick grins and opens Jack's jacket, then walks behind him to take it off his shoulders. "Get comfortable," he says. "I've got a surprise after dinner."

"What's for dinner?" Jack asks as he rolls his sleeves back up to his elbows. 

"I roasted a chicken with some carrots and potatoes," he says. "Help yourself to a drink while I check on it." 

Jack walks over to the small table that acts as Chick's bar. It's tucked between the fireplace and the corner. There's an overstuffed armchair next to it, and Jack pours himself a measure of whiskey and takes a seat in the chair. He sighs in relief as he sinks into it. It's old and worn in and utterly comfortable. Chick's dragged it base-to-base for years, he knows. 

"Want the stool?" Chick asks. He's in the kitchen area to Jack's left, a meat thermometer stuck in the chicken. 

"I'm okay," Jack says. 

"Chicken needs a few more minutes," Chick says and shoves the pan back in the oven. He walks over to Jack and squats down. He unties Jack's shoes and slips them off his feet, setting them aside. 

"You don't need–"

"Hush," Chick says. He pulls the stool out from under the bar table, then twists to grab a pillow from the loveseat in front of the fireplace. He places it on the stool, then lifts Jack's legs by the ankles so his feet are propped on the pillow. 

Jack hums his thanks as Chick rubs his thumbs over his ankle bones. "How was your day?" he asks. 

Chick shrugs. "Phone calls. Paperwork."

"Where'd you find a chicken?" Jack asks because he knows Chick wouldn't take it from the mess. It wouldn't be right to take a chicken from the boys, even if there is more than enough. They're waiting for replacements, again. 

"I traded with Mrs. Brighton," Chick says, standing from his crouch. He walks over to the bar and pours his own whiskey. "That freeze last week ruined her potatoes, so I offered her a couple dozen for a chicken."

"That is an outrageous exchange rate," Jack says. "How did you even know she needed potatoes?"

"I asked Lemmons if anyone might be up for a trade," Chick replies. 

*

Lemmons had come to Jack months ago asking if they could organize some sort of help for the farm ladies. "They're all real smart about their machines, Sir, but they're trying to do double or triple or quadruple the work to keep their farms going with the men gone."

So are you boys, Jack had thought, but Lemmons had been earnest and worried, and Jack knew if the other boys weren't also wanting to help, Lemmons wouldn't be in his office. "No using our own spares, but you can use our tools."

"We could make parts from the scrap," Lemmons had said. "We'd make our own first, of course, but if there's extra, we could make replacement parts for the farms."

The word 'if' had hung in the air like an angry hornet. As if they were ever low on scrap. It was the only thing Jack didn't give a shit about in inventory reports. Screws and axles and rivets and switches he counted like his last ten cents. But there was so much scrap metal from the forts they'd had to strip for parts he could have built a whole goddamn flying group from scratch.

"Approved," is all Jack had said in the moment.

*

"Ah," Jack says now. "Of course." 

Chick smiles at him and sips his drink. He walks over to the chair and tucks two fingers under Jack's chin to raise his head. He rubs his thumb on Jack's chin. He doesn't say anything and neither does Jack. When Chick strokes his jaw, Jack leans into it lightly, closing his eyes. He feels his shoulders drop, and he hears Chick chuckle with pleasure. 

"There it is," Chick murmurs. 

Jack takes a drink of his whiskey and hum when Chick lets go of his chin to press his thumb lightly to Jack's Adam's Apple to feel him swallow. 

"A little better than when you got here?" Chick asks. 

"As usual," Jack says because it's true. He opens his eyes, and Chick's smiling at him. 

"Good," Chick says, then steps away. He checks the chicken again, then hauls the roasting pan onto the stovetop. 

Jack takes another drink of his whiskey and watches as Chick sets the table with the china and flatware from the mess. That they don't mind taking. Two sets of dinnerware won't be missed from the pile they have. 

Chick offers Jack his hand when the table's set. He lifts Jack to his feet and walks him to his seat, pulling his chair out but letting Jack pull it in for himself. 

The chicken is perfectly golden brown with a crispy bite to the skin. The potatoes and carrots are soft, seasoned with rosemary that Jack knows is fresh because his mother grows her own herbs on a crowded windowsill at home in Cleveland. 

"This is excellent," Jack says after two bites, and Chick beams at him. "I didn't know you knew how to roast a chicken." Chick usually sticks to quicker meals. Pan-fried meat and roasted vegetables. Things that taste good and fill you up and take only a couple of steps to put together.

"I wrote my mother a few weeks ago for the recipe," Chick says. He looks down at his plate and pushes his carrots together. "She…she asked if I was trying to impress someone."

Jack cocks his head at Chick. "Why did she ask that?"

Chick clears his throat and looks at the wall. There's a photo hanging there of the two of them. A journalist had come through several months before and requested a photo of the commanding officer and Air Exec who kept the already-famed Hundredth in the air. Chick had thrown an arm around Jack's shoulders and given him a shake, making Jack laugh. Chick had beamed wide, and the journalist had gotten a shot that Jack's own mother had sent him after it had been published in Life magazine. The caption had made Jack go breathless when he'd read it the first time:

Colonel Neil Harding and Major Jack Kidd, the steady presence behind the wild achievements of the famed 100th.

He rarely feels steady. 

And now here's Chick looking a bit unsteady himself. 

"What is it?" Jack asks, worry creeping up his spine.

Chick's gaze snaps to Jack, reading him through and through like he always does. "Oh. Shit. Jack. It's not bad. Nothing bad. I swear." He shakes his head, then meets Jack's eyes again, steady and sure. "It's a family recipe. It's nicknamed Engagement Chicken."

Jack blinks. He looks down at his plate. He glances at Chick, then cuts another piece from the thigh he's eating. He takes his time chewing and swallowing. "If your surprise after dinner is a ring, I'll say yes, but the chicken is pretty good, too."

Chick stares, then he barks a laugh. "You son of a bitch," he says. 

Jack grins at him, and for a moment, he feels safe and loved and light. And he thinks there's nothing he could do but marry the man who makes that possible in this fucking war. 

*

The surprise after dinner isn't a ring. It's a bathtub. It's set up near the far wall of the hut behind the heavy curtain Chick had hung early on to tastefully conceal his bed. An open window and the closed curtain have kept the heat and humidity of the tub out of the rest of the hut. When Chick pushes the curtain aside, Jack stares in amazement. 

"You did not leave a wood-fire tub burning this whole time," Jack says, staring at the box and pipe that lead to the tub.

"It's how they work," Chick replies. "You build up a fire, then close it off."

Jack knows Chick is right, but it feels like a hell of a risk given what they go through every day. Or maybe it's no risk at all, Jack thinks suddenly, given what they go through every day. 

"Come on, strip down. Water's good and hot," Chick says. 

"Have you used it?" Jack asks, untucking his blouse before going to work on his belt. 

"No," Chick says. "I wanted you to have first go." 

Jack turns and looks at him. Chick looks soft and comfortable in the humid air. His eyes are crinkled at the edges from his smile, and Jack takes the two steps to him to kiss him. It's a bit more aggressive than their hello kiss, but his hands on Chick's waist are loose, and Chick cups his cheek like he's priceless glass. "Why?" Jack asks when he pulls away, not because he thinks that he doesn't deserve to be cared for but because he's just curious what Chick's seen that he's made it happen. 

"You take care of yourself," Chick says. "You get your three squares. You sleep. You exercise. I see you shut off outside worries when you're with me like we are now–well, as much as you can. The only time you drink enough to be worth worrying about it's for good fucking reason, and you still drink less than the other boys. I just wanted to show you that I see you doing that. I wanted to give you something you couldn't give yourself. I wanted to…" Chick shrugs. "I wanted you to know that I see you," he says. "That I want to be the one to take care of you that extra bit."

Jack stares, then he grabs Chick by his blouse and twists his hands so Chick can't get away. He kisses him like it's the last chance he'll have. He feels tears prick his eyes but, for once, doesn't try to blink them away. He lets them fall. He lets Chick cup his face and touch them with his thumbs, and when he's so breathless that breathing through his nose doesn't help, he pulls away and gasps and simply drops his head to Chick's shoulder.

It's a few minutes before Chick speaks. "I want to help you wash up," he says. "If you don't mind."

"No," Jack says. "I don't mind."

He strips naked and steps into the tub. It's almost too hot, and he sinks down until he can feel the water up to his chin. His knees stick out, but before he can decide if it's worth moving to get them underwater, Chick's there with a teacup, scooping water and pouring it over his joints. Jack tips his head against the edge of the tub and breathes out hard. 

"Soak for a minute," Chick says, clasping Jack's left knee. "Just enjoy it."

"Okay," Jack replies. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling of the hut. It's got the same curved roof and exposed beams as every other hut. Even his own. He stretches his arms as far as they'll go, loving the feel of the hot-hot water moving when he wiggles his fingers. 

Chick comes back, the little stool in one hand. He sets it down behind the tub at Jack's head, then sits on it. He dips his arms into the water and brings up handfuls of water to sluice down Jack's neck. He presses his hot, wet hands to Jack's face, and he works his fingers into Jack's hair, breaking up the Brylcreem with gentle care so Jack's hair can curl in the humidity. 

"I love your curls," Chick says. "Have I ever said that?"

"I don't think so," Jack replies. 

"Well, I do," Chick says. He dips his hands in the water, then massages Jack's scalp. "They shouldn't fit you so well, but they do. The way you can tame them but the way they always try to escape." He leans in and kisses the top of Jack's head. "Is this flowery language working for you?"

Jack huffs a laugh and pushes himself out of the water just enough he can tip his head fully back on the lip of the tub. "From you, I like it," he says. "But I don't need it all the time." 

"I know," Chick says. He kisses Jack's forehead. "I'm glad for that. I like that we can just be together, Jack. I truly do."

Jack nods to agree, and then Chick rubs his thumbs up and down the back of Jack's neck, and he lets out a long, low groan. 

"That's good," Chick says, repeating the motion. "Let it out." 

He works Jack's neck for a few minutes, then digs into his shoulders, then rubs hard just under his collarbones. Jack feels like he's liquid from his pecs up when Chick slips around the side of the tub and reaches into the hot water to massage his feet without bringing them up into the air. He dampens the rolled up sleeves of his shirt to press his knuckles into Jack's calves, and then he stretches Jack's hands, one finger at a time, dragging his thumb on the underside of each finger and kissing each fingertip. 

"Chick," Jack murmurs as he lays in the hot water and simply drifts on how loose and easy he feels. "I might fall asleep."

"I'm here," Chick says, leaning forward so he can cup the back of Jack's head. "I'll keep an eye on you. If you start to drift off, I won't let you go under." 

Jack closes his eyes, trusting Chick to the marrow of his bones. The water is just starting to show signs of cooling. For the first time, Jack is aware of the air coming in the open window. He turns his head so he can rest his cheek against Chick's palm, and then he forces his eyes open. 

"May I stay?" he asks. 

Chick leans in so their foreheads touch. "Never ask me that again, Jack," he says. "I made you the Engagement Chicken."

Jack wants to chuckle, but his heart thumps hard and stops him. He tips his chin so their noses brush, and Chick ghosts a kiss against his mouth. "When this shit is over, you're going to marry me," he says. 

"Fucking right," Chick agrees without hesitation. 

Jack nods, his neck loose. "Take me to bed," he says. 

Chick rubs his cheeks roughly, enough to wake Jack up, then he helps Jack stand and step out of the tub. He dries Jack, then pulls the covers back to lay him in bed. He covers Jack with the blanket and moves away, scooping cups of water from the tub and throwing them on the dying fire in the box until the embers are out. He puts a cover on the tub, then strips himself down. 

Jack hums in contentment when Chick slips into bed on the other side and immediately turns so he and Jack are nose-to-nose, Jack's left calf tucked behind Chick's right.

"Thank you," Jack says, kissing Chick's collarbone as he slides an arm around Chick's waist so he can pull himself closer. 

"I love you," Chick says, lips moving against Jack's forehead. "We're going to make it through this and have a long, happy life, Jack."

Jack's whole body shakes. He makes a quiet, sharp noise that he presses against Chick's skin. Until Chick has said it just now, he hasn't realized he needed to hear it. "You sound sure."

"I am," Chick says. "What's the fucking point of losing our boys like this if we can't live the lives they deserved to have?"

Jack presses his closed mouth to Chick's shoulder. He thinks of the condolence list on his desk. He thinks of how Chick knows as well as he does how many they've lost. He thinks of Chick's invite arriving just when he would have started those letters tonight. 

He thinks of the Engagement Chicken. Of what such a dish means. 

"Forever?" he asks. 

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Chick says. 

Jack presses his lips against Chick's shoulder and tries to picture them after the war. It's a hazy image he can't turn sharp, but in this room right now, he knows it will happen. He breathes out hard and relaxes his shoulders and lets the steady thump of Chick's heart lull him to sleep.

[vicmillen]

Ok, I'm looking through the folders and found something that, uh, I did not remember writing at all. Jesus, almost spit out my drink reading it.

For context this should be something in response to this post I made, although the post is made after I wrote that? This might be the first ever entry about LU I have, in fact. How the hell I forgot about it is beyond me...

Anyway, here's the... short scene, I guess. Please forgive the unfinished battle sequence, I'm still not sure how to do that fight scene.

****

Abruptly, Warriors felt like the Deity's scrutiny lifted from his body like a physical weight, Their attention shifting to the approaching champion. No, no. Why is Wild going against his order? Dread curls in the captain's chest, Why isn't he keeping away!

The Deity narrows their eyes at the new comer, and slammed their massive sword into Warrior's shield so suddenly that the captain went flying backwards. Except, what he fears the most did not happen, Wild did not instantly become a red smear on the ground. Instead, the Deity cocks their head, almost curious.

Wild sneaks a worried look at Warriors, then wordlessly stepped in front of him. For a stretched second, not a single sound is heard across the parade grounds, all the heroes watching on with bated breath.

The Deity is the first to break the silence. But what they say next sends all of the heroes into confusion.

"I sense my mark on you. Don my face, Wildling. Show your worth."

The champion hesitated for a moment, then in a familiar flash of blue, a smaller Fierce Deity stands in his place. Gasps is heard all around, but the Deity doesn't seems to notice them anymore.

"And my sword."

A pause, then another flash of blue, that iconic two toned blade appeared in the champion's hands. Two identical Fierce Deities stood face to face, albeit one is much smaller than the other.

Now that the initial shock has died down somewhat, Warriors can see the difference between the two. Not just in their build, but their aura too. That, more than anything, eased his worry a little... Right until the smaller figure charges straight at the Deity.

The heroes let out their second collective gasp,

~~~~

W: sprint attack

FD: side step & slash

W: back flip dodge & flurry rush

FD: side step mid-rush and horizontal slash

W: bolck w/sword & ragdolls

FD: beam attack aiming mid air

W: snap paraglider to halt momentum, then throws his sword into beam

FD: surprised dodge, sword stuck in grond behind FD

W: bullet time with two volleys multishot bomb arrows

FD: brief stun

W: face FD w/ no weapon

FD: forward slam

W: backflip dodge, another stun attempt with bow

FD: stun failed & immediate slash

W: empty hand perfect dodge, moves behind FD

FD: backwards stab

W: step onto blade and kicked off into backflip, bullet time electric shot at FD's chest piece, lands next to thrown sword

FD: turn with half spin slash

W: side step flurry rush, pick up sword

FD: side step the side step, upward slash

W: parry fail, went flying

FD: jump attack

W: blocked mid-air w/ sword, still slammed into ground by FD

~~~~

The dust settles around the two pale figures, then to the shock of everyone, Fierce Deity throws their head back and laughed.

"Very well, seems like there is an end in sight after all." Their voice booms. Then the deity narrowed their eyes at their split image laying beneath them, an unnerving smirk growing on their face. Without warning the Fierce Deity raised his hand and pried off their mask in one swift motion.

Leaving a disoriented Time behind to face the absolute shock of his life.

[andrewminyardapologist]

A Kevin Day hc I assume I'm not the first to have:

We see Kevin drinking during the course of the series. Often, he uses it to relieve extreme anxiety, like when Wymack handed him a bottle of liquor at the banquet and told him "you have ten seconds, go."

(While that's really funny, it also shows how MUCH Kevin drinks because I think he got half a bottle down in that time. In a liter of vodka there is somewhere around 25-30 standard drinks I believe? So that would put anyone without a drinking problem on their ASS. I was a heavy drinker for several years of my life, to the point where I could be blackout drunk and act sober. I am a lot smaller than Kevin, but that would probably put me into a coma if I didn't space it out over a couple of hours. Not mention Kevin was not appearing to be drunk during the banquet. So this leads me to believe he drinks a LOT. More than we see.)

The other time we see Kevin drink is at Eden's, and around the other Foxes for card games or bonding nights. Things that make it easy to not spiral into a dark place because of the alcohol.

He's also very drunk when he gets the chess piece tattoo, and is alone that time, drowning in memories. That was SUCH a huge deal for him. And, he was ALONE.

This is why I think that Kevin probably spends a lot of nights getting wasted by himself. While outwardly he is often very analytical in terms of things like exy and relating to other people, for example his apathy regarding Seth's death or Neil's injuries. Internally, however, he is an extremely emotionally intense person.

This comes out only when he is around really significant trauma triggers, essentially only when Riko is mentioned or when he has to see him in person.

A lot of people joke that Kevin is a coward, but I don't think he is. I think the amount of abuse that happens at the Nest is so intense that the fact Kevin can be in the same room as Riko at all proves how strong he is.

I think what drives him more than fear is grief, that's buried so deep down he can't see it until he's wasted. Riko was his abuser, but they were also inseparable. It's hard to reconcile that.

Kevin is grieving the loss of a brother, he is coming to terms with the fact that someone he cared for so deeply, who was such a large part of his life, could betray him in all of the ways he did. He is grieving the fact that he left Jean there, knowing how horribly Riko treats him.

It is to the point where he needs Andrew to ground him to the Foxes, to not run back there for all of the things he has lost.

I think there are a lot of moments readers didn't get to see where Kevin gets really drunk and can't help but sob. Quietly, into a pillow, somewhere where he's alone and no one can hear. I think when that happens, he either finds Andrew or Andrew finds him.

Andrew doesn't comfort Kevin. Doesn't try to. He just listens to the sounds and if Kevin wants to talk he lets him, even though it's basically unintelligible or sometimes it's in French. Andrew takes the bottle from him and puts it out of reach when Kevin is getting too drunk to not get alcohol poisoning.

Andrew makes sure Kevin gets to bed and leaves a puke bucket within reach. For his sake, not Kevin's. On the worst nights, he's stayed up to make sure Kevin doesn't die in his sleep.

They never speak of this. Andrew doesn't know if Kevin remembers, but he does in bits and pieces. And he seeks Andrew out enough times for Andrew to know his presence is wanted and not an intrusion.

I think when he finally gets sober, Andrew is there for him like that too. Just a presence. Instead of keeping Kevin from returning to Riko, he keeps him grounded when he wants nothing more than to drown himself in a bottle of something. Years down the line, on the rare nights Kevin contemplates breaking his sobriety, he video calls Andrew.

Andrew always answers, and rarely talks. Kevin might say one or two things, but mostly they just sit there together on the phone, Kevin knowing Andrew will come after him if he thinks Kevin is relapsing. Kevin will get a look on his face when the urges get bad, and Andrew will see it and simply say "no," and for some reason that's always enough to drag him back.