#any of the opera peeps interested?

[shredsandpatches]

You know what would be a lot of fun would be if we had a listening party for this. It's up for 35 days from today and my guy Michael Spyres is in it!

[meabh-mcinness]

Do you ever like think of the adult trio doing things related to their respective animal?

Like whenever balam is happy he involuntarily lets out soft peeps that kind like a baby chicken would do?

Does opera make biscuits when they're sleepy?

When there's something that kalego deeply enjoys does his tail pop out unexpectedly and just wags?

Deeply thinking on this matter STFD anon

So my answer to this is yes. Yes, I do think about this. Balam 100% fluffs up when he's happy, Opera purrs and Kalego? Well, Kalego has a little problem with-

Thumping (Naberius Kalego x GN!Reader)

On Earth, it's common knowledge that when scratched correctly, a canine's leg will start uncontrollably thumping. Even with this in mind, you really didn't see coming that the Babyls 'Guard Dog' would have the same issue.

Main Masterlist

It had been an average weekend when you had discovered a rather interesting titbit about the Naberius clan. 

It was a rare day when neither of you had any work to do, and could simply exist as you wanted. Both Kalego and you had been lounging on the couch at the time, you were peacefully on the verge of having a nap and curled into his side as he read. A gentle orchestra played in the background on an enchanted gramophone, a mix of strings and woodwinds playing along with the barely discernable scratching of the needle against the record. 

The moment was so tranquil and pleasant that your mind was permanently stuck in that in-between phase in the middle of being asleep or awake. It was why you didn't notice it at first. In your sleepy haze, one of your hands that was draped over his stomach lightly trailed up and down. Tracing non-existent patterns and going no particular way, your hand simply moved — following its own made-up path. Your hand moved closer to his side and continued its aimless wandering there, when suddenly you were more awake than you had been a mere few moments ago. 

You blinked, eyes bleary with sleep and confusion running through your brain. You weren't entirely certain what had woken you. In fact, you had no idea at all. One moment you had been dozing peacefully, the next you were staring across the room at the bookcases lined with novels and textbooks you had both collected. Mentally, you shrugged it off and settled back in again. You assumed it had been hypnic jerks, the sudden jerking awake with a muscle movement often accompanied by a sensation of falling. You had simply too close to drifting off to realize if you had moved, and hypnic jerks didn't always include sensations of falling specifically, or sensations at all really. Shifting to get more comfortable, you felt Kalego's arm lift slightly to give you more room to move, before falling gently again around you when you finally settled down. 

Once again, you slowly started to drift off, your hand moving once more to continue its aimless wanderings along his side. Tracing your fingers along, you suddenly jerked your eyes open again, only this time you knew why. It hadn't been you that had jerked. 

It had been Kalego. 

Blinking in confusion, you forced yourself not to give anything away, to continue moving your hand gently along as if you were still drifting off when you felt it again. His leg had moved. Just a quick twitch, but it had moved all right. You buried your face into his side to hide your grin. Who would have thought the great Naberius Kalego — the doom and gloom emperor—  would be ticklish? Though you had to admit, it was a bit odd that only his leg had twitched. Generally, someone who was ticklish had a full-body reaction, but you chalked it up to the famous Naberius control he had.  

Running your hand into a more deliberate pattern, you trailed it up his side and back down again, being sure to keep your breathing even as if you were still on the verge of sleep. Once more, you felt his leg twitch by your side, and you shifted gears to rub circles occasionally as you moved your hand along his side. The leg twitching grew, and yet he didn't even seem to notice from what you could feel. 

As it became more consistent, you suddenly realized something. Kalego wasn't being tickled, he would have gently smacked you upside the head and moved your hand if he was. This seemed more like an unconscious movement that he potentially had no control over. And the movement was so consistent in a way, always just the one leg moving, almost as if- but no, that wasn't possible. 

That was such a dog-like thing and while your mate was cursed with dog spirit, he did have some dog traits such as sensitive hearing, and constant snarling (which reminded you of a prickly hissing cat to be honest) along with some other more intimate similarities, you didn't think he would share something so, so mundane. So human world like. After all human world dogs only did it due to the way they were built, the neurons crossing wires they weren't supposed to, and it led to an uncontrollable movement. You didn't have enough experience with Netherworld canines to know if they did the same thing or not, but you wouldn't be too surprised if they did or didn't do it. 

Regardless, you never thought the day would come when you learned that Kalego's leg thumped when you pet his sides. 

You personally felt like this was such a monumental find in a way. The waspish, no-nonsense guard dog of Bablys thumps his leg like a common canine. You loved it. It was pretty adorable to find out, and you kind of wanted to tease him about it. At the same time, you were certain he would be extremely offended and find some way to turn it on you. The last thing you needed was for him to discover your tickle spots. 

A book thumped your head, and you let out an ungraceful squawking noise in surprise. Your hand jerked away from his side to clutch at the back of your head, lifting your face from his side to glare up at his smirking one.  As you glared up at Kalego's smirking face, you couldn't help but seize this opportunity to tease him about his unexpected quirk. With a playful glint in your eye, you decided to go for it.

"Kalego, my darling mate," you began, feigning innocence, rolling over on top of him so that you could look him in the eyes, "I must say, I've made a fascinating discovery just now."

Kalego raised an eyebrow, still smirking, but his curiosity was piqued. "And what, pray tell, have you discovered, my dear?"

Leaning in closer, you whispered with exaggerated seriousness, "I've discovered your secret weakness, your Achilles' heel if you will."

His smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a mixture of surprise and annoyance with a bit of confusion. After all, the Netherworld had no concept of the Greeks, much less who Achilles was. Probably for the best, you really didn't want to know what their version of the Trojan horse would be. "And what might that be, exactly?"

You grinned mischievously as you sat up, straddling his hips and pointed back to his leg, which had been twitching all this time. "This," you declared triumphantly, "your leg thumps when I pet your sides. Who would have thought our mighty Naberius Kalego is as ticklish as a common Earth dog?"

Kalego's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he regained his composure. "Nonsense," he huffed, trying to brush off your discovery. "It's just a reflex from staying in one position so long. A need to stretch, nothing more."

You chuckled and decided to push his buttons a bit further. "Oh, come on, Kalego. Admit it. You're not as impervious as you want everyone to believe. You have a soft spot."

He scowled and leaned up closer, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. "I suggest you drop this topic immediately, or I might discover your weaknesses as well."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to intimidate you. "Oh, I'm not worried, Kalego. I can handle a little tickling. Don't worry though, this will be our little secret."

Kalego rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of amusement in them despite his gruff demeanour. 

"Though now, I'm really curious," you stated, nails lightly drawing a line from his side down the prominent v-line before stopping right above his pants line where you were sitting. His stomach visibly grew taunt; breath coming out in quickening pants as he started to grasp your intentions.

"If you share this trait with earthen canines," Your finger lightly tapped the bulge forming in the tent of his skirt. "What others do you share?" You looked up and locked eyes with his. A slow smirk grows on your face, as you already know the answer to the question. 

"Shall we find out?"

[arvandus]

The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

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The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats.  Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies.  They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection.  Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile.  “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him.  After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends.  But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of. 

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know.  However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations.  No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid.  Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire.  No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance.  It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it.  But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary.  But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different.  They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips.  It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own.  After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it.  You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession.  He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours.  Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said.  “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else.  “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said.  “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance.  You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh.  “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance.  “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you.  No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued.  “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was.  He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips.  Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined.  The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper.  “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips.  His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two.  Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation.  Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you.  On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair.  Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him.  The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed.  You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests.  It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind.  It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot.  Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos.  The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind.  You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough.  He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be.  And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side.  But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him.  Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to.  So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope.  But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own.  The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together.  A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know.  There was no way to know for certain.  Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred.  And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have.  You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme.  This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first.  You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you.  “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm.  Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours. 

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes.  You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility.  You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all.  There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding.  It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict.  But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah.  But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait.  What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated.  “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock.  “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech.  Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back.  “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look.  “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you.  You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there.  “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs.  You wasted no time in putting them in.  Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier?  A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap.  You were angry.  He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear.  “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him.  “It felt intentional,” you replied.  “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me.  Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile.  He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low.  His hand squeezed yours reassuringly.  “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time.  You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious. 

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance.  The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets.  The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open.  But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed.  He leaned close and whispered.  “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape.  You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly. 

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched.  The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained.  “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed.  “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him.  And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo.  It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics.  But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate.  The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human.  This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced.  But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye.  “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom.  You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for.  Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity.  It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own.  Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish.  So foolish.  What were you doing, going on a date with a demon?  Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage.  You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless?  Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time.  Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted.  No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it.  The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone.  You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth.  Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain.  The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love.  Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you.  You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence.  A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture.  You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin.  Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone.  A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears.  Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front.  You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat.  You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place.  Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you.  You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry.  “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did.  I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered.  Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided.  If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise.  “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out.  On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained.  “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled.  It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked.  “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that.  Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next. 

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own.  “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake.  Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat.  “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently.  You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone.  I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral.  He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow.  “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected.  However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast.  Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream.  All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied.  “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you.  You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to.  But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed.  “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it.  Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words.  They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him.  And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future.  Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt.  You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.”  His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered.   Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear.  “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you.  “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry.  It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied.  You nodded.  His smile grew.  “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened.  “She went to hell.  She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing.  He was so beautiful it made your chest ache.  “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought.  “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin.  “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess.  Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here.  Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned.  “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place.  No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words.  “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer.  You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment.  Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished.  His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist.  You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you.  He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona.  You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out.  Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you.  Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration.  The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you.  You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh.  “I don’t want the night to end either.  It is far too early to be saying goodbye.  Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind.  “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again.  It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle.  Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private.  This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will.  But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers.  And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued.  “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering.  You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors.  Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled.  “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers.  Finally, you were outside his door.  With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy.  A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it.  There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by.  It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire.  Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious.  Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some.  You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair. 

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands.  Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire.  Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered.  He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect.  The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims.  The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return.  “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you.  “I just want you to feel comfortable.  I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.”  You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart.  “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in.  “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest.  “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons.  He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt.  He laid it carefully over the back of his chair.  “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath.  Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off. 

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back.  The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold.  Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck.  The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea.  He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck.  As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves.  “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon.  “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment.  “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips.  “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing.  Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently.  “Expectations? None.”  You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you.  When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him. 

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck.  “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper.  Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint.  His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open.  It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum.  The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties.  “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin.  “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events.  I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass.  It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties.  You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way.  But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored.  It was driving you mad.  You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels.  “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his.  It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for.  However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected.  Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf.  Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling.  Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation.  As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered. 

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer.  The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet.  He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze.  “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously.  “No,” you breathed.  “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum.  “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip.  “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric.  You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands.  Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time.  Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation.  Again, he licked and kissed.  And again.  Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before.  His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail.  It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic.  As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm.  Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched.  The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster.  Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb.  “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.  “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.  You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you.  “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants.  He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks.  His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight.  The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you.  Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing.  Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes.  His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful.  Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips.  As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth.  He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes.  But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him.  Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly.  “My pretty little human.  So fragile, so beautiful.  Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint.  “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you.  “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him.  With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him.  His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.  “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive.  The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage.  He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb.  He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure.  He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves.  Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him.  He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in.  He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release.  He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears.  You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder.  If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries.  But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him.  With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina.  It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open.  As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle.  Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head.  He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands.  He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked.  His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily.  “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed.  “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling.  “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you.  “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause.  “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body.  He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast.  His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch. 

“No,” he replied.  “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future.  I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm.  His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes.  “And I’m glad.  Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you.  “Absolutely not.  I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding.  “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze.  “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you.  You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom.  But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his.  You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet.  “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd.  He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion.  But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you.  “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts.  His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place.  There was no need for them.  They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question.  Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse.   He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin.  Your knees, your thighs...  But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles.  Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease.  Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you.  Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock.  He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl.  My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes.  After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied.  His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear.  “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch.  You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered. 

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame.  Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation.  Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him.  He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so.  He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash.  With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom.  It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed.  You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found. 

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him.  To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding.  You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it.  But he wasn’t human, either.  His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body.  Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance.  You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them.  Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared.  He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest.  He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe.  “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes.  “Then, perhaps not.  Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed.  “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily.  It eased your nerves and quieted your fears.  In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon.  What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence.  The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity.  Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg.  And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire.  You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile.  “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder.  “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly.  “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment.  “I believe you.  But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you.  “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him.  “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire.  “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly.  “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness.  “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw.  “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you.  Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you.  “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned.  “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me?  Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh.  “Yes, I did consider that option first.  However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently.  And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.”  He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames.  “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was.  You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes.  “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought.  Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone.  It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe.  It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life.  His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious.  Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself.  Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn.  “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none.  Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw.  He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you.  It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue.  Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting. 

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him.  The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him.  The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy.  His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it.  You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again.  Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you.   “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return.  “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch.  He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him.  “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight.  “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick.  Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you.  It ached, your body still sore from earlier.  It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger.  You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent.  The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back.  Your lips curled into a grin.  “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened.  Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl.  But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him.  Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls.  Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw.  Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you.  His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls.  His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs.  The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping.  With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you.  You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin.  He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder.  Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued.  “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle.  “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired.  “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said.  Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder.  “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache.  The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied.  “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin.  “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips.  “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck.  “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore.  Suffering, even.  I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state?  That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied.  “I told you earlier even I have my limits.”  He kissed you softly.  “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return.  Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient.  And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to.  He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you.  As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night.  His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours.  The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself.  Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

[y2klostandfound]

Space Channel 5 Part 2 on Dorimaga Magazine (2002-02 Vol.2) (Video game magazine) (08/02/2002)

Translation in English:

(Page 80)

Dorimaga Special Report - DC PS2:

Video Game Consoles : Dreamcast / Playstation 2

Scheduled to be released: February 14th

Completely: 100%

Price:

Dreamcast: 5,800 Yen Dreamcast(Special Edition Pack): 9,000 Yen Playstation 2: 5,800 Yen

Genre - ETC (Musical Action Adventure) Manufacturer:Sega/United Game Artists Players: 1-2 Number of discs: 1 URL: http://www.u-ga.com/

Controllers/Memory Cards PS2: DualShock 2, trance vibrator compatible, memory card 161KB. DC: 5 blocks of memory used (VMU), Purupuru pack support

Online Shop:The DC version is exclusive to D-DIRECT.

The actors are ready!

New and rare characters will appear one after another!( planned)

It's finally here! Space Channel 5 Part 2 has been finally completed, and it is more powerful and more polished than its previous installment! Enjoy the spectacular space opera featuring Ulala, a reporter who can sing and dance, Pudding, Jaguar, and other new characters!

Ulala, her rivals, and the enemy characters are revealed one after another! The actors are finally coming together! Preparations are steadily underway for the Valentine's Day event on February 14 (Rumor has it that it has already been completed!?). Anyway, please look forward to the greatly enhanced "SC5"!

Dancing and showing off! - Dance battle

The rules are familiar, Using the enemy's dance as a model, let's make Ulala dance. This time, there is a person who has a deep interest in life....! ?

Shoot and shoot! - Shooting Battle

In the shooting battle, A ( X ) button shootin toward the number that comes up! When the assistant appears, use the B ( O ) button to withdraw him or her!

New! And now easier to play!

Charge Input

One of the new commands for dance removal is this charge input.You can press and hold the button for the length of the "chu~~" or "he~~~y". Be careful not to press it for too long! In addition to the buttons, you can also use the directional keys!

Chu~~ (Hold for Long)

Chu! (Hold on)

Musical Instrumental  Battle

It is a battle using musical instruments. In any scene, all input is OK if you press the arrow key ↓.Since you have to press up, down, left, and right to enter, you will need a more elegant input! But fun!

Direction key ↓ to Play!

Sing and Battle

This time, there is also a scene where a song is inserted in the interval before! In the song part, a karaoke-like character band appears. You don't have to enter the command, but you have to be careful with the timing. It is a scene that makes you feel the excitement of the musical!

Sing, dance and key in!

The system of imitating the enemy's dance is the same, but part of it has evolved!The B( X ) button peep for rescue is now "Hey! to make it easier to teach!

B Button Peep X Button Peep to "Hey!"

PINE

A Space Police Chief of the Eastern Galaxy District, who appear with a theme song composed by herself, She was born on June 5 and her blood type is A. How will she be punished for her sexy (language) personality, who wasn't seen in the previous work!?

(Page 81)

The number of modes has also increased, and the situation is UP!

In this "Part 2", not only the story mode, but also some fun modes have been added. Like the previous work, this work is designed so that you can play it as many times as you like, but you can also enjoy dance battles in a different form! Also, two players can now play together. The rules are simple, with each person in charge of the directional keys and buttons, but it is difficult unless the two of you are in sync with each other! And there are costumes that you can only get if you complete the game. So, let's start looking for a partner now!

1P GAME/2P GAME

This is the mode in which you play the story.  The game is now in full polygon, and the camera work and direction are even more elegant! I think you will be even more impressed than in the previous game, so please enjoy it! There is also a 2P mode with separate directional keys and buttons!

Ulala Dance

This is a new mode in which you answer 100 consecutive dance questions! You only get one chance, and you can't miss a series of tensions!If you answer correctly a specific number of times in a row, you will receive a Ulala costume!

Profiles

This is a mode where you can see the profiles of the characters that appeared and the characters that you rescued, which was also in the previous game.The goal is not only to complete the game, but also to win the game, which actually hides various secrets!

Dressing Room

In this mode, you can change Ulala's costume. Wear the costumes you can play each mode and set off on a revival! In addition to clothes, accessories such as microphones can also be changed!

February 14 Start on air!

REPORT 1 - Ulala Again! in Space Ship (Ulala Back in Action!)

Dancing troupe suddenly attacked!

The galactic universe, which has been at peace since the resolution of the previous incident, is now in the grip of evil once again! The spaceship Space Symphony has been taken over by the "Dancing Troupe (Rhythm Rouges)" that appeared out of nowhere! Space Channel 5 was the first to catch wind of this and sent Ulala to the scene to take on the Dance Troupe (Rhythm Rouges)!

Reported by Ulala in a new outfit! Nostalgic characters such as Space Japanese and Space Grandma also appear!

What is the purpose of the Dancing Troupe (Rhythm Rouges) that is taking away the dozen or so passengers one after another by making them dance!? And who is the person named Purge who explores it!?

SHADOW - Action expulsion that imprisons the attack of the Dancing Troupe (Rhythm Rouges). I've seen his deep voice and sharp dance somewhere! ?

Ulala-san! It's time to go!

REPORT 2 - Green Fear in Space Park (Nature's Revenge!)

Save the president!

President Peace, who was invited to a children's music festival at Space Park, was kidnapped by someone! Ulala heads for an emergency report in a field shaken by the outbreak of a major incident! She is confronted by the dancing troupe (Rhythm Rouges) again and Pudding from Channel 42 will challenge you to a guitar match with your pride as a space reporter!

It is a transformation in which children are caught in a plant that suddenly starts to move. Let's bring back everyone's smiles!

 Appearing in the floating garden (Fountain Square) is her eternal (?) rival, Pudding. Can she win her first guitar competition?

PUDDING

A familiar reporter (former idol) from Space Channel 42. She has a rivalry with Ulala again, and appears at various places with her bodyguards!

PEACE

He is a space president who can sing and dance, working day and night to bring happiness to the entire galaxy!

(Page 82)

Enchanted full polygon ♡

In the previous game, polygon characters were superimposed on the background of the movie, but this time the background is also full polygon! This makes the camera work and directing really fun. Also, the rescued people now have facial expressions, which adds to the enchantment of Ulala. In particular, the DC version has evolved so much that it's hard to believe it's the same hardware! Technological advances are truly amazing!

 Enjoy one parade after another! Play the game and experience the excitement!

Enchanted full polygon 1: The camera work is amazing!

The biggest change in full polygon is the camera work! In addition to moving, the dance battle between Ulala and the enemy, and the angle when the key characters appear, are very elaborate! Please take a look at the moving screen!

Enchanted full polygon 2: The production is also amazing!

Production other than camera work is also powered up! Various effects are now included depending on the play. For example, if the battle results are good, the rescuer will cheer up Ulala, and special camera work will be included. On the other hand, if your performance is low, you will get ......

The DC and PS2 versions are different!

There is almost no difference in content between the DC version and the PS2 version. However, if you are worried about having both hardware, Please look at this page for more information!

"Channel 5" is still DC (Dreamcast)! The DC version is exclusive to D-DIRECT, but a limited edition with headphones and a galaxy pouch will also be released! If you pre-order, you will also receive a galaxy (alarm) clock

Furthermore, only DC can be seen with beautiful graphics using VGA!

Trance vibrator compatible!

The PS2 version will bounce with a trance vibrator following "Rez"! You can also adjust the volume of BGM (Background Music) and SE (Sound Effect), which is not available in the DC version!

Vibrator support would be nice! You can also get the Galaxy (alarm)clock if you pre-order the PS2 version.

♪We are "The Dancing Troupe" ("We are known as the Rhythm Rogues")♪

The enemies that appear in place of the Moro aliens this time are the members of "The Dancing Troupe(Rhythm Rouges)". A mysterious dancing group led by a mysterious leader, Mr. Purge! A number of violent acts that make people dance with innocent people! As you progress through the story, you may find out what they are doing wrong! ?

ROBO (RHYTHM ROBOT)

A member of a Dancing Troupe (Rhythm Rouges). Accompanied by Shadow, it shoots at various places. it has the innocence to act without judging what has been harmed. it shoots dancing radio wave beams from its eyes.

PURGE

The leader of a Dancing Troupe(Rhythm Rouges) that dances in the shadows. He's always a silhouette when he appears, and no one knows who he really is. He seems to be plotting something by making the people of the world dance.

SHADOW

Action captain of the Dancing Troupe(Rhythm Rouges) . He takes care of the robots and takes the people who made them dance away on a transport boat. His trademark is a red muffler that stays on regardless of gravity.

[sleepsentry]

Hoooooooooboyyyyyyyyy...

I've spent most of my years in the gravity falls fandom as a kid/teen.

And I kinda resent seeing adult fans turn a comforting kids show about embracing your inner kid and not being ashamed of fun, into a dramatic, petty morality obsessed, soap opera...

Like- its really uncomfortable the way most of the adult characters are depicted in fanon, it doesn't feel "more realistic" it feels like the adult fans are kind of ashamed of any interpretation that isn't "acceptably mature".

______

For example: The way Stan and Ford are turned into the worst versions of Batman.

Stan and Ford are often depicted with a subtle but important edge that isn't necessarily present in canon.

Especially in fanworks wich focuse on them instead of the broader family.

As if their softer, goofier sides are just a front for the sake of the kids rather than fundamental parts of who they are as characters.

They're not.

They're just as important as their more "serious grown up moments"

Stan and Ford aren't adult characters in an adult show, they're adult characters in a kids show and their silliness is essential.

Their approachable, softer, kinder, moments, are vital, as authority figures in a show where the intended audience is expected to relate to the children they are responsible for.

Their vulnerability and screwing up is an important aspect of the show, showing kids that adults don't know everything and it's important to question them when they make mistakes.

"Adults are often just as afraid as you are and it's OK for them to express that, it's also important that they don't make it you're responsibility to deal with" is at the core of the way Stan, Ford and most adults in the show are depicted.

It's a comforting and affirming theme to have in a show about two kids on the brink of losing that childhood wonder, or at least afraid of losing it.

As Mabel says:

"They got... stupid. Promise me we won't get stupid."

______

I've seen so many adults make these characters more "adult" to appeal to them and it isn't even bad, it's just uncomfortable... it feels wrong.

Fiddleford is another adult character that I often see treated like this:

A lot of depictions of younger fidds I've seen (especially within the context of shipping him with ford) basically turn him into a conflicted love interest lady having an affair with her negligent boss in a stupid 80s movie-

I'm not getting into how fiddauthor is being used as a "safe ship" by the broader fandom and being stripped of its nature as a character dynamic and used as a tool to excuse morality based shaming and harassment by grown adults over stupid cartoon men-with cucumber shaped noses

It gives off similar vibes to certain queer peeps appealing to homophobes by throwing less "digestible" queer people under the bus and its not that serious its cartoon shipping for fucks sake

it's so uncomfortable when you remember he's a silly little hillbilly man.

His name is FIDDLEFORD.

MC. GUCKET. (•□•)

He's got depth and serious moments for days but he's also introduced screaming and jigging and slapping a sandwich out of someone's hands.

He contains multitudes withing his vegetable shaped head.

He's not Ford's frustrated underpaid secretary (as funny as that sounds)

______

Emotional depth and maturity aren't exclusively adult things.

The bloody "Goofy Movie" isn't suddenly an adult film because it has moments of quiet maturity and melancholy, along-side the expected goofyness.

That sense of quiet maturity isn't age locked in reality and I'm so tired of it feeling like it is.

It's not wrong or bad to depict more mature things with a story and characters aimed at kids.

But I think it's very disingenuous to dismiss the lighter elements in favour of the moments that "go over kids heads" they don't.

Even if the kid doesn't understand the adult joke, they can tell something is off and it's annoying how smug grown ups are about it.

I know Gravity Falls itself has that tone so I might aswell be complaining about fire burning or ice melting.

But it's taken to such extremes that it makes my inner kid feel like grown ups are twisting one of the few things I have and making it about themselves again... that's uncomfortably personal and petty I know.

But the reality is, that's been my experience for the majority of my time in this fandom.

Only in the past few years have I grown out of the "baby fan" vibe and it's going to shape my reactions to fanworks regardless.

______

For another example cartoon characters swearing isn't bad.

But it's jarring when adult behaviours (which more often than not means behaving like an ass) are superimposed onto child friendly characters, and these behaviours are taken for granted as "more realistic and natural" it's just... like no that's not true.

There are adults who don't like swearing or drinking or smoking, there are kids I knew when I was little (11 - 14) who enjoyed doing all those things for better or worse.

Seeing Teenagers complaining about 40+ year old characters being "infantilised" or "UwU-ified" as if grown ups can't be vulnerable is just saddening.

Adult female fans complaining that male characters aren't "man enough" is kinda scary to be honest, especially when those softer depictions are usually from teens and maybe even young boys/men in my case.

The problem is behaviours and perspectives are so strictly coded and enforced that even in a sub-community of a sub-community you get people enforcing arbitrary codes of conduct or depiction.

It's a kids show.

Relax.

He said to himself as much as whoever bothered to read this far.

I'm gonna go have a glass of water and some fresh air, if you've read this far I'd recommend doing so too but also, despite the tone of this wall of text, I'm not your dad.

[repomyheart]

Introduction Of Me

Duckie's the name. Occasionally Romeo.

19 / autistic / any pronouns /british

I lov my bf ♡

Evan Peters enthusiast ✿

vv here's some more about me!

What you'll see here:

- Nsfw reblogs

- random thoughts

- aesthetical posts

- posts of my varying fandoms

Other socials you might be interested in

- you're most likely here from my Tumblr @marchsfreakshow !

- @ seahouse_cosplays on instagram

- MarchsFreakshow on a03 aswell

That's about it really. Sorry

Interests!

Shows: AHS, BoJack Horseman, Red Dwarf, Peep Show, The Future Diary, BBC Ghosts, Deadman Wonderland, Mare Of Easttown.

Movies: Deadpool, Repo! The Genetic Opera, X-Men, The Cornetto trilogy, Chicago, A Silent Voice, The Princess Diaries 1&2, Romeo And Juliet (1968), Beetlejuice.

Music: practically everything... Lana Del Rey, Rammstein, Insane Clown Posse, Bears In Trees, Nirvana, Rob Zombie, Avenged Sevenfold, Eminem, Odetari, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex.

Games: GTA (VI, V, Vice City), Minecraft, Stardew Valley, Fallout(3, 4, New Vegas, 76), Genshin Impact, Destiny 2, Batman: Arkham Asylum, The Outer Worlds, Jazzpunk, Goat Simulator, FNAF.

Hobbies: writing, music, reading, occasional cosplayer, gaming, collector, cooking.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Hiya 💚

Just popping by off anon today to say I hope you’re having a good weekend. What’s something that’s made you smile recently? Have you been watered, fed, and provided some sunlight today?

You’re amazing, don’t forget that 🤘

I'm having a little snack of some fruit and toast before I go to bed. Usually I have some valerian tea as well but I'm coming off a flareup and strong valerian tea can cause stomach pains which I'm not interested in experiencing again anytime soon. Woe is me and my "mysterious illness" that I can easily avoid by eating foods that do not trigger symptoms. Tragically, I work downwind of a food court on the weekends and the smell of roasted meat, baking bread and deep fried whatever calls to me like a siren. Hard to believe I used to be afraid to eat anything!

I have lots of reasons to smile lately. My new job is going to take up more time but that's alright because this is a place I really want to believe in. I've had a friend working there for a year and she's loved it so I finally jumped ship. I like what they do and I like what they pay. It's a job I want to improve myself for and be the best I can be, since my last place had me clawing at the walls in despair of all the bullshit and regulation breaking that went on. I'm really pissed at that place, can you tell? And working at the Faire on the weekends is always fun. I'm always smiling there and it's a genuine smile. So let me tell you a story about something that happened today. It's about a man in a boat and a peep show.

(Don't worry. It's safe for work.)

It starts at the end of the day. For any not yet aware, I work at a Renaissance Faire. I'm comfortable disclosing this because I don't live anywhere near the faire, it's thirty acres of land and my shop is known for other things besides what I've talked about here. I use a different name there, too. There are three jousts at the fair, with the final one taking place at around 5:30 ish. So the streets of the little town were fairly empty save for a few dozen or so patrons, the Fantastikals (fairies) and one very special independent performer.

My assistant manager calls me over to the door with a grin. I come out from behind my counter to see what she wants and she points to this very special performer. "Ask him for the peep show". She tells me with a grin and because I'm down for anything at the Faire, I leave my shop to where this man is standing, in the shadows stretched long across the roads.

Words can not describe the experience of meeting him but I'm going to try. You heard him before you saw him, because he had a cleverly hidden speaker playing Italian opera. Classical music? Something masculine and passionate and bellowing. He wore black tights and shoes. His frilly shirt may have been yellow. He wore a perfect painted circle of white outlined in blue on his face and there was a pin that said "Yes, I work here!" on his shirt. There was a hat and finer details to his makeup but they all escape me because the man was also a boat. Or, in the middle of one. Jutting out four feet from his front and four feet behind was a gondola. There must be a harness of some kind under his shirt to help keep it up. Because in the gondola were buildings. Anywhere from a foot to eighteen inches tall. Think of Venice. Think of beautiful towers and elegant façades.

The man was a city.

In a boat.

I asked him for the peep show.

"Ah, my dear." He said, a twinkle in his eyes. "You're in for a real treat."

He directed me to a certain building on his other side. As I rounded him, I made eye contact with a little harlequin puppet placidly rowing the boat. It may have winked at me. I went to the building and noticed an open window. Putting my eye to it, do you know what I saw?

Two candy peeps on a platform, staring serenely back at me. I told him I loved it and he smiled.

"Sometimes people are nervous. They think I might scare them or poke them. But this is the level we're at here, my friend."

His other buildings had windows too. The tallest had several with cleverly angled mirrors so that the person looking in the bottom would see the person looking on top and vice versa. Another one, an opera house where your reflection was on stage. So many others, but I can't remember them! I was also still in character and interacting with patrons and very much still on the clock. But again, end of the day. My boss was very forgiving.

People like him are the reason I love the Faire so much. My hometown had one and the childhood memories of visiting are so clear and vivid it's like I could open a door and step back into it. I danced with the Queen, you know. She looked like one of my teachers, but I'll never be sure.

It's nice to keep the spirit going. Thank you for spreading positivity, Mr. Barnes. A good example for the fandom to follow 🩵. I hope your weekend is going as amazing as you are.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

So happy someone else defaulted to "oh wouldn't it be funny if Mordecai lived in the caves?" lmao it would explain how he had such easy access to the armory too

Bonus points if he sometimes hits a toe on a rock/has to hunt some spider or rat and the peeps at Lackadaisy just think it's a ghost

lol yeah once i was like "hm did mordecai have enough familiarity with the cave network there to know of some Secret Entrance since he got to the armory," but earlier viktor just notices the garage entrance trapdoor was unlocked, and we've seen mordecai keep lockpicking since....but hey it doesn't mean he Can't know of any secret entrances, and have also literally cleaned out somewhere else like "actually the secrecy of living in a cave is worth the effort / inconvenience" lmao

we sure can also appreciate a Gothic Genre Analysis applied to things out here where we have a murder and a mystery (which isn't a whodunit so much as a key to all these other Secrets) which is probably this case of the [how have these instances & manifestations of violence been incited, sustained, compounded, inherited, enforced, etc....] theme manifesting in this Central Unknown with atlas lol like, someone who was at the heart of all that & Something Happened in such a way that it seemingly came back to him like "me reaping: what the fuck. this fucking sucks" but who yet knows....bunch of mysteries, conflicts, murky painful pasts and similarly threatening futures, figurative ghosts, the haunting through histories, legacies, the manifestations of established/enmeshed power that's consuming things in hidden ways &/or seemingly suddenly erupting into view when lashing out from some threat. it's so funny but also genuinely so interesting that mordecai is the one tasked with doing some [quietly kill people] but he's also like ummm. sweating. what's going on

also there's Mood & Style which is important for anything but it also helps when you pick anything up like "is this gothic?"

it's also funny, which isn't counterproductive to any genre or style or effect if you're doing anything right lol. and it's both Very Gothic and Very Funny of anyone to be living in a cave where there's already secrets, darkness, bones, more murders, and some compulsive dusting which is funny and is also "raise your hand if you're Not characterized by violences in your past that may have been both immediate and interpersonal or too vast and immense to have been meaningfully understood as being a manifestation of some individuals' actions (e.g. crowded tenement immigrant life, for one)"....and a real classic if someone thinks there's a haunting, but then it's just some guy, except maybe there was also a haunting and maybe Some Guy's haunting is also like, damn, it's Like if there was a ghost who was murdered, where this person's life could be less ghostly if they weren't figuratively killed by certain forces....this is Just like phantom of the auditorium, of goosebumps the book series, or goosebumps the musical based on the book........in turn based on the musical, based on the book, at the time disappointing some readers who were like "what do you mean it was just some guy"....oh hey, lon chaney phantom of the opera was a '25 release. i've been staying completely on track the entire time

anyways running with it yeah i think mordecai would be sufficiently Particularly Ill-Suited for enduring his cave living that it would be like, a quick scooby doo investigation's worth of solving that mystery lol. like you don't even solve it, he just gets sick of it on his own & emerges from the darkness & proceeds to Just Walk Out, He Can Leave. > if (itSucks) {hit (dabricks!!)}

on the other hand, it wouldn't be very Thematic of him, when this is all about people in an "it sucks" situation & why they (a) are in it & (b) as yet can't, won't, &/or simply haven't just walk/ed out, Real Winners Quit style

BUT....it would be funny. and mordecai's quite the flexible & active character out here, being at lackadaisy after atlas's death(tm) sucked so he just walked out (& shot viktor)....work....social thing....cops if your quick....friend ships....and now marigold goings on are also a problem so he's doing his own mystery on mystery on mystery investigation....if it weren't for how it would bother him too much, truly, he could comically get up to some secret cave dwelling and zanily make people think there's a cave ghost

[milady-pink]

Together in Hell

Summary: Raoul has not heard from Christin in many days and enlists the help of the Persian to find her, but what they discover shakes them to their core…

Word Count: 1964 | Graphics: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: Graphic depictions of death/ corpse, another character death, post-mortem

Part 1 Part 2

_______________________________________________________________________________

Raoul will never be able to erase the unsightly scene he had stumbled upon, deep within the bowels of the Opera Populair. Thinking back on the smells and sounds of the place made him sick enough to call the carriage driver to pull over, should he be sick. No, those gruesome sights will always be burned into the backs of his eyelids. And that chill! That deathly chill that makes him want to soak in a steamy bath and never leave his manor again.

Not after what they did to the Persian.

It had been three days and Raoul had heard not a peep from Christine. It would not have worried him so much, knowing she would be locked in her music teacher’s embrace, but she had promised to write to him. It brought a smile to his face, remembering how she had so suddenly and sadly told him that she found within herself, not love for him, but love for her teacher that she had been harboring for the past few weeks. Christine had always been so kind when she let people down, making them feel like they should be the one to apologize: and Raoul was no different. After letting her go to him he had also realized that she was right; they didn’t have much in common after all these years apart. Children can make friends with the most unlikely of people, merely because they are not experienced enough to have interests of their own.

So no, Raoul was not too upset that his once childhood sweetheart had admitted her love for another man. In fact, he was quite happy for her; she was adamant they would remain good friends, determined to salvage what remained of the children in their adulthood. After thinking about it longer he also came to the realization that his parents, mostly his older brother Philippe, would never allow him to marry someone below his class. Especially not a performer.

After going three days without any word from her at all, he began to get nervous for her wellbeing. Though Raoul had never met this infamous maestro, he knew better than to doubt Christine’s judgment when it came to musical matters, and he greatly doubted she would choose to be alone with any man who was less than a gentleman towards her or any other girl. He knew that Christine would be going back to the opera house to search for her maestro, but Raoul didn’t have a last name to go around asking for.

That was how he came upon meeting the Persian.

His name was Nadir Khan, once head of police in his homeland of Persia, working directly for the Shah himself when he came upon Erik. Everyone at the Populair called him the Persian because of how his dark skin stood out among the various olive and alabaster shades that decorated the various performers. Raoul had seen him many times when he visited Christine during rehearsals; the man knew every single person in the opera house, from stagehand to orchestra player.

As of right now Raoul the two men were trying to find their way to Erik’s underground home via his many tunnel systems; all of which had been boobytrapped one way or another. Along the way he told the young viscount how he knew ‘Erik’, and his phantom happenings around the opera, along with how his lessons with Miss Daae the new leading soprano.

“I had been meaning to pay Erik a visit,” he told Raoul as they meandered through the dusty catacombs, “he was seeming to me a little too happy. But now I fear that is no longer the case…”

Raoul was about to ask what he meant before trailing off, only to see the same sight as him. They had just stepped into an open area, consisting of stone walls and a gravel shore that fed into the infamous underground lake. What made the Persian lose his voice wasn’t the freezing air, but the wide open door leading into the house on the water. Both men looked at each other before looking back at the door. Raoul had started to move towards the door, only for his arm to be pulled back by his companion.

“We must enter with caution,” the dark skinned man warned the viscount, “we’ve no idea what lies inside there.”

Raoul answered the grave man’s face with his own reply of, “Of course we know what's in there, Christine and her teacher; two people just like you and me.”

The Persian tried to tell the viscount about Erik’s many habits of safekeeping his privacy, including the various traps they nearly avoided on the way down here, and that leaving his front door wide open was more than just odd; it could mean a dangerous intruder had entered and might still remain. Unfortunately Raoul didn’t pay attention to a word of it, too focused was he on the bizarre noises he thought was coming from inside the home.

With great trepidation, the Persian entered the lavishly decorated home, Raoul following close behind. Neither man had a weapon on them, but with a little creativity they both figured a coat rack or candlestick could be easily remedied. Thankfully they didn’t need to use either.

Unfortunately, they would have been no use against what was waiting for them.

The once beautifully decorated Louis-Philippe room, with its extravagant decorations and priceless artifacts collected from years of traveling the deserted world alone, lay in complete ruins. The Persian, no stranger to Erik’s anger nor the proceeding mess it usually leaves behind, tried to put together what may have happened and assess the danger of an imminent threat. Raoul merely looked on in awe of the destruction and chaos the once luxurious room was left in, and if his dear friend had been caught in the crossfires. He was struck from his reverie at the sound of the Persian’s accented voice.

“We should search the rest of the home for any signs of life—“

He never finished the thought, for a low groaning sound coming from the adjoining hallway had interrupted any speech. They looked at each other with the same question swimming in their eyes,

‘What was that?’

All too soon they found the answer.

Slowly, as if dragging the weight of a thousand men, walked in Erik. In no healthy condition was he; his suit was torn and frayed at the ends of his sleeves and pants, his hair sticking up in every direction like he was just awakened from a very long sleep. And his face. Gray skin with blemishes and bruises galore, taking on the appearance of a gargoyle came to life, the most colour on his person was around his mouth; a dark red, blood perhaps, long since dried. His stance was somewhat lopsided, his extreme height forcing his body to fold in on itself with the weight of his torso and lack of muscle in his back. The stench! That awful smell of rotted meat and mildew that only misted the air now assaulted their noses in full force, they both had to raise their hands to cover their senses. Raoul had somewhat prepared himself for seeing the strange phantom without his mask, but he doubted any man would have looked inviting given he too plagued the same sickness that the secret teacher possessed.

The being once known as Erik surprised both Raoul and the Persian by not dragging himself after them, but instead letting out another low groan, a bit different in pitch. Not wanting to alert the creature to their presence too much, Raoul tilted his head towards his companion and asked in a hushed whisper only he would hear.

“Where is Christine?”

But the question would be asked in vain, for on came shuffling into the sitting room was a woman, most likely after being called out by her beloved. Raoul could not believe his eyes, nor the few tears that sprung to them. His childhood friend, once thought future wife, was now nothing more than a husk of a being, dead and yet still alive. He knew from his talks on the journey down here that the former police chief was feeling similar emotions looking at his former friend. A large bite fit nastily into her delicate shoulder, accented with dried blood that once upon a time dripped onto her dress, the sleeves slipping off. The colour of her skin matched the light bluish-greens of the outside body of water, angry veins protruding from her body and face. There was no resemblance, no similarities to the people they once knew and cared deeply for before them; merely empty promises of who they knew, never again to smile or laugh the same way they used to. Those two people were lost to time, and Raoul prayed deep within his soul that they were able to find each other beyond the grave.

The standstill between the unusual quartet was broken the moment the Persian dared to speak out. “We must make our departure as quick as possible.”

The happy, and surely hungry, couple trotted towards them with Erik, being the strongest, in the lead. Tripping over her dress Christine was slower but both were incredibly inarticulate with their movements, hell bent on one thing; food. Acting quickly, the Persian grabbed Raoul by the shoulders and pushed him towards the door, their doom rising as the corpses started to gain momentum.

“I will not be long,” he told Raoul, “I always knew Erik would lead to my demise and I fear this is it. You must, for the better hood of this world, barricade the front door and never let another person walk through. Burn the house if you must, but do not let these things escape.”

“You’re not planning on staying here, do you? They’ll eat you alive!”

“My young man,” continued the dark skinned man, “you have a much longer life ahead of you filled with love and children. I will not allow one such as yourself to sacrifice for an old man like myself. All I ask, in addition to destroying this home, is that you remember the name ‘Nadir Kahn’.” They reached the door, the Persian pushing Raoul through the door, turning back to face the monsters in their home. Before he committed his last act of bravery, he looked back at the viscount to say, “I wish you good health.”

At full speed, hoping to knock them down and give the young man more time to escape, the Persian ran towards the couple, arms wide open. He greeted them halfway, wrapping his arms around each of their necks, effectively molding them to his sturdy body. Unfortunately, his muscular size was the perfect remedy for the couple’s yearning hunger. Unable to look away, Raoul watched in horror as both the maestro and student took bites out of the man, chunks of flesh flying out of their mouths, blood dribbling down their necks. The Persin, Nadir, screamed out in great agony, Raoul’s ears were left ringing from the sound.

Finally coming to his senses after feeding his deep morbid curiosity, Raoul slammed the door and began to barricade it from the outside with the biggest rocks the gravel beach had to offer. After twenty or so minutes, he felt confident that they wouldn’t be able to escape. Still fear stricken and shaking, he stepped into the boat left there by Christine and began to carry himself out of the opera bowels, finding it ended near the Rue Scribe entrance, and quickly called himself a cab to get home.

Never again would he sleep alone, always those yellow eyes and bloody mouths would greet him at night, just like they did Nadir Khan.

[eruthiawenluin]

should i watch spn be honest

is it worth it

I am not recommending it, strictly speaking, but if you do, watch like… the first 5 seasons, and if you really need more, up to the end of season 7.

As for the rest, it’s a very hit-or-miss cashcow built on canon inconsistencies because of fan service and an extreme bias in Dean’s favor. And, I cannot stress this enough, the majority of the late seasons writers didn’t even watch the entire show. There’s actually a line in early season 13 where Sam says that Dean chose to “help” him when he was “evil” rather than leave him for dead. This is literally the exact opposite of what happened, but it got twisted into Dean saving him because of confirmation bias. And if you saw the infamous scene from 15x18, it’s pretty clear that Dean does not really reflect the things that Cas says. But, again, fan service.

By extension, if you do watch, stay far away from the fandom.

Going to talk about the bigotry of the show below the cut here (tw for talk of racism, misogyny, homophobia, and abuse apologia).

The show is a MotW format, but they appropriate a lot from indigenous cultures when they should and could just take from general folklore (see the title of 1x02 for example… and the awfulness of 1x08). It also features a lot of copaganda. I’ve noticed a pattern where half the time, antagonist cops are black men while protagonist cops are white women, which goes hand in hand with some of their villain choices…

On top of that, Dean has an Asian fetish (this is a consistent joke of the writers spanning as far as season 3 to season 14, from what I’ve seen) and subscribes to a magazine called “Busty Asian Beauties.” There is an episode in season 13 where he raises a gun to a young woc in an episode that specifically highlights how she is affected by racism, and then she gets fridged for her white woman love interest the next episode…

Sam is the more progressive one (he’s meant to be the liberal to Dean’s conservative) but in earlier seasons at least he’s a very lukewarm liberal. He gets some explicit character development on the bad points here (such as how he views prison) but the show never really moves on from the copaganda in general. If anything, it actually leans into it more with time. One of the protagonist cops absolutely abuses her power over a man in her custody and is still justified by the narrative even though the guy ends up proven innocent. All in the name of being a girlboss ig?

They tried for a Feminist spin-off (about two cops who adopt some wayward girls), but the series is actually deeply misogynistic. This is obvious from the get-go. Dean’s introduction to the show as an adult is him making Sam’s girlfriend uncomfortable because she’s underdressed, for example. He actually only gets worse, as he goes on to show a consistent interest in minors, have him be a peeping tom (even as late as season 11), and call every woman antagonist gendered slurs.

It’s been said on repeat “Hey, maybe don’t headcanon a sexual predator as queer…” and responses to that have varied from “No, he’s not a sexual predator” to “He is a sexual predator but queer men need to be represented as predators!” He’s painfully heterosexual though and any jokes people take out of context to suggest otherwise are just playing on the fact that he’s hetero so him having “feminine interests” (such as soap operas) would be “funny.” All of this is especially ironic when you consider that Sam was more or less confirmed MLM in s4 (barely past the censors) but is considered “the straight one” by fans.

They also brought a dead woman character back from the dead to give as a “gift” to Dean and show zero perspective on how she feels being literally objectified in this way. She is then expected to parent these two men she does not know. Wild.

Dean is predictably homophobic as well (though it doesn’t show up in explicit terms as often as his misogyny+racism) but fans either don’t acknowledge this or call it overcompensation.

And if I went into the topic of Dean’s abuse, we’d be here all day, but it’s an endless stream of abuse apologia from start to finish, from how John abuses his children to how Dean abuses Sam and Cas, even to people torturing Sam.

So, yeah, watch to your own detriment. The characters obviously inspire a lot from people, but the entire series is a wreck.

[epicmiscellaneousponderings]

Thirteen Thursday Thoughts concerning romance/Valentine movies to watch

It is that time of year where everything is covered in reds and pinks and hearts! Everyone is thinking about love in some way or another, fondly or with an eye roll. I commonly watch movie with some friends or siblings this year while eating some chocolate and thought I'd leave Thirteen Thoughts in no particular order on movies to watch for the Valentine season. As always feel free to buy me a coffee and to leave your favorite romance/Valentine movie in the comments!

Starting off with Pride and Prejudice: whether it is the 2005 version with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen or the 1995 mini series with Colin Firth this is a classic watch.

An obvious companion to the one above is of course Sense and Sensibility: the 1995 movie with Alan Rickman and Hugh Grant is the one that I watch most but I have recently discovered the 2008 series with David Morrissey and thought that it was enjoyable in its own way.

Now those might be too dramatic for you and for those who might be in the mood for a bit of comedy, Much Ado About Nothing: the 1993 movie is the most easily accessed one and it stars Emma Thompson and Keanu Reeves in it, for those who truly want a rip roaring time I suggest finding through Youtube the version with David Tennant and Cathrine Tate in it.

Another more comedic romantic movie would be The Importance of Being Earnest: the 2002 movie staring Judi Dench, Reese Witherspoon, Rupert Everett, and Colin Firth.

We're going to go for a sharp turn and enter musical territory here for a moment with Phantom of the Opera: the 2004 movie with Gerard Butler, I don't know what to say about this other than that the opening scene is not something to miss so you want to have your drink and snacks and be comfy before you start this one.

Keeping with the musical theme but going for a lighter note there is Mamma Mia! This 2008 musical has quite the star studded cast and is a simple joy filled pleasure. It's also the third movie that I've listed that has Colin Firth in it, huh.

Leaving the musical theme but keeping the simple joy we have The Inheritance: the 1997 movie with Thomas Gibson. This movie also is wonderful for any horse loving peeps out there cause part of the conflict revolves around a horse competition. This is a bit of an underrated gem in my opinion and I would love for more people to see it and give it the love it deserves.

Another hidden and underrated gem is Dear Frankie: a 2004 movie with Emily Mortimer and Gerard Butler. This sweet film also introduced me to the song The Great White Horse by Buck Owens and it plays as a connecting moment between the characters.

Fantasy and Romance come together in The Princess Bride. If you haven't seen this movie than you are in for such a delight. It has everything from giants to sword-fights and of course a few kissy scenes for the romantic element.

Fantasy and Romance are also the main genres of Ladyhawke: this movie was made in 1985 and is one that so few people have heard of. Two lovers cursed to be forever apart but always together is such an interesting concept and pulled off very well. I will warn that the movie starts off slow but it has a good ending worth the effort in my opinion.

A bit of espionage with romance is found in the classic Scarlet Pimpernel movie of 1982 staring a young Ian McKellen alongside Jane Seymour and Anthony Andrews.

Returning to classic romance there is Our Mutual Friend the 1998 tv series. This series features multiple relations to follow as they intertwine around each other.

A final choice for this list must be made and it is a difficult choice. I am going to recommend the Jane Eyre series of 1983 staring Timothy Dalton. Now admittedly Timothy Dalton is a tad too handsome to fit the character of Mr. Rochester but this is the only adaptation of Jane Eyre that I've actually enjoyed watching despite the other adaptations having brilliant actors and actresses in their own right.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

back by popular demand: FRESH READS FRIDAY

first up: have you guys ever heard of a little indie novel called Song of Achilles?

but in all seriousness, the books I've read on this list - Song of Achilles and The Chosen and the Beautiful - they were both pretty excellent, and the synopses for the rest sound like some really interesting places to build retellings from. this list also has much more YA than most articles I share, for all my YA-heads out there.

also, as long as I'm gassing up Nghi Vo (author of The Chosen and the Beautiful)...

this list contains some of my most anticipated novels of 2022, namely Vo's Siren Queen and Grace D. Li's Portrait of a Thief (which I hopefully will have read by the time this post is published...). other gems in this list of fic and nonfic include the memoir of a Vietnamese restaurant, a Chinese American revenge western, and a pulsing short story collection centered on Cambodian-American life.

next up: that's right, we've got yet another longlist for a literary award none of you have ever heard of!

the Desmond Elliott Prize recognizes first time novelists in the UK and Ireland, and this year there's some bodacious competition. the shortlist and winners won't be announced until the summer, so there's plenty of time to read them all (you know, if you're a maniac with more free time than I can begin to imagine).

anyway, onto the obligatory SFF:

sometimes I get real cocky and go into these lists thinking there can't possibly be any titles I haven't already heard about - only to be abruptly and delightfully proven wrong! this list includes bruja vigilantes, an alternate history in which thousands of women turned into dragons in the 1950s, a space opera full of time travel and galactic politics, and a queer King Arthur retelling. personally, my interested is piqued by the delightfully odd-sounding Saint Death's Daughter.

and now for something completely different:

as I queue this up several weeks in advance, I am once again attempting to find my peace with poetry - thank you, Audre Lorde! this list contains not one, not two, but THREE collections I'm actually really looking forward to by Ocean Vuong, Akwaeke Emezi, and Saeed Jones, and if there's something here for me then there's got to be something for anybody.

lastly - quick! before April is over!

"37 books can't possibly be that many" you say, before you start scrolling through this article and see how fucking long it is. and it's got everything from witchy romance novels to generations of humans living in space to "Romeo and Juliet meets Chinese mythology." go peep it now!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

      - Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

      - Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked. 

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet. 

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

     - Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

     - Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in? 

     - Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

     - What if someone broke my window and took me?

     - Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight. 

     - You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

     - I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

     - Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in. 

     - Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

     - You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

     - I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”. 

     - Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else. 

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

     - Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out. 

     - I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face. 

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

     - I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

     - I like a challenge.

     - That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

     - What can I say, I’m not that interesting. 

     - I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

     - I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

     - It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

    - How long have you been in New York?

    - A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

    - I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

    - Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

    - I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N. 

    - Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

    - You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

    - They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

    - You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed. 

    - You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

    - Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess​ 

[rpd-rookie]

After all things he saw and been through, Leon could use some rest... So how about Leon x reader on vacation in some remote, distant place, phone turned off, Hannigan banned from contacting him over new assignments? I guess it would be perfect for post-Vendetta? I don't really care it it's going to be fluff, smut or whatever - I just want him to take his time off and simply enjoy his leave, wherever he'd go. ^_~

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait. This OS actually became so long I decided to make it a 2 or 3 chapters long fanfic. Here’s the first prt. Hoping you’ll love it.

Warning: Angst, Mention of Alcoholism and Depression, Language, Mention of sex.

Information : Y/SN = your second name

Holidays - Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

A fresh marine breeze entered the room through the ajar French window, flapping the white muslin curtains like two small sails. It caressed his clammy naked body and a salty smell came to tickle his nose, reminding him a time when, as a kid, he used to go visit his grandparents in their small beach house in South Carolina, a time that was far gone but that he kept close to his heart.           And so he sprawled on the mattress, a bit like a funny starfish, his blue eyes still shut, trying to linger in his memory and in his bed a little longer, at least until Hunnigan calls him to warn him not to be late to another umpteenth appointment with his DSO colleagues or the president.           Only when he felt a delicate hand brush his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear like his mother used to do when he was a child, and finally met a pair of gorgeous (colour) eyes did he realise two things.   One, Hunnigan won’t call this morning. Two, holidays were awesome.

Part 1: THE MEETING

           Scott Rossi. That was the name he had given when he had registered in this remote cottage-like hotel three days ago on the north coasts of Nova Scotia. Nothing original and probably too easy to guess – it was his father’s first name and his mother last name after all. A fake identity he had judged necessary to disappear from the DSO’s radar for a little while.     He needed to be left alone. For his wellness and his sanity even though a part of him knew drinking his sorrow away wasn’t what was best for that so-called wellness he wanted back. But it was the only solution he had found to forget. Forget about New York. Forget about the car bombing in DC. Forget about that bullet he put in President Benford’s head. Forget about everything that had led him here, drinking in this bar. But the road to forgetting was hard and the escape too momentary. And the more whisky he poured in his glass to more he seemed to drown in his bottomless pit of pain and depression.           “Tough day or you’re just not confident in your masculinity?” Usually, Leon would have ignored such a nosy question, the same way he would have ignored another over-curious judgy person, with characteristic stoicism. But there was something in that question, something in that voice - though he couldn’t pinpoint what - that made him look up from the amber liquid in his glass. Perhaps was it the strangeness of that question. Or perhaps was it that voice, confident and full of nerve, reminding Leon of old times, old friends, bold young agents and femme fatales. Or perhaps, was it simply because she was a woman and God knew how much Leon couldn’t ignore one, wasted or not.     She was a (hair colour) with piercing (colour) eyes, wearing a long marine blue coat over a nice black dress. Elegant. Self-assured. Pretty. Very pretty … Actually too pretty to hang out in some lousy hotel bar like the one she was in right now. A city girl maybe. “Excuse me?”           “The whisky. My father used to say it’s a drink for fags.” Leon’s eyes widened briefly and she added, unsettled by his surprise as if she had expected it. “But then again, my father was an asshole who didn’t know shit about anything. So tough day, huh?” Leon snickered and remained surprisingly troubled for a few second. Needless to say, he wasn’t used being caught off guard like that. “More like tough life” He finally corrected. She nodded and, unable to resist curiosity – even though she had the impression the man was certainly not the kind to easily open up to strangers -  quickly went to sit closer to him bringing her tequila along with her. “I’m all ears.”   “I don’t need a therapy.” His tone was curt and harsh and he took a sip of whisky looking away from her, thinking she would get the message and leave him to finish his fancy bottle of Glenfiddich in peace. But she did not move and simply waited, her observing eyes set on him as if she was trying to read his mind or something.       He glanced towards her only to see her sigh and take off her coat like an insect would shed their skin, offering Leon the sight of her beautiful wasp-like body covered in black silk, a sight that didn’t leave him indifferent. After all, she had an exquisite silhouette. Curvy with a narrow waist that her skin-tight black dress could bring out with ease. “Let me guess, after fifteen years of marriage, your wife cheated on you with your best friend because you were the kind of man who lived for his job instead of his family and now he’s taking care of your kids in your own house and they call him daddy.”         “Couldn’t be moooore wrong.” He had a quick laugh, not because he thought her soap opera-like story was amusing but because he actually never imagined someone would picture him married with kids. Did he look the type? He didn’t think so. “Maybe. But at least now I know you’re not married.” Leon glanced at her again, astonished by her audacity. No one had ever flirted with him that way. Though he wasn’t even sure she was flirting. “Are you sweet-talking me or something?”         She shrugged her

shoulders leaving the place for any sort of answer and Leon said “You know, you could have just look at my hand.”     “I did actually but I just wanted to make sure.” She had a quick seductive smile and smoothly bent towards Leon who peeped at her décolletage for a second before focusing on his drink again. “By the way, is shooting a hobby or part of your job?” Leon froze, his glass half way between the counter and his lips and stared at her. “How …”             “The calluses on your fingertips. Only a shooter has that kind of hands.” He couldn’t help but be impressed and after drinking his whisky in one go, he naturally sat up straight on his stool to scrutinize her, suddenly more that interested in that mysterious girl. “You’re observant.”   “Y/N actually.” She extended her hand and, after a short hesitation, he shook it with an amused smile, undeniably seduced by that cheeky attitude that suited her so well. Her skin was so soft and cold against his, he instinctively kept her hand in his to warm it up. A lovely gesture yet certainly a bit inappropriate. Either way, the girl said nothing and let him hold her hand. “I’m L… Scott. I’m Scott” He finally replied as he let go of her hand, slightly uncomfortable. “ Fine, then I’m Y/SN.”     Leon frowned, his face showing a mix of confusion and amusement. “You just said your name was Y/N.”         “Yeah but that was before you chose to lie.” She grimaced, emptied her shot of tequila and called the waiter with a small hand gesture to ask for a refill, not even slightly disappointed in Leon for lying. “I didn’t lie.” Not really. She put down her hand as she realised the barman, who was flirting with a man at the end of the counter, would not notice her.     “Of course you did. But I’ll allow it. I guess that’s just another silly way to cope with your tough life for a night. Though, it seems it’s as useless as alcohol” She took Leon’s glass and emptied it without looking away from the agent.       “I’m trying to enjoy my holidays at the fullest.” He confessed and that was the truth. “Is it working?” She placed the glass, now stained with her lipstick, in front of him and he shrugged, showing her the bottle of alcohol by his side before pouring himself another drink. “No, not really.”             “Thought so.”            

She took the whisky again, this time from Leon’s hand but he did not protest. He didn’t care about that damn liquor. He could definitely afford another bottle. The company however … He knew he would never find another girl like the one sitting next to him. “So, Y/N. What are you doing here?” He asked, his eyes fixed upon her face. “Who’s Y/N?” She replied with a cheeky wink and Leon smiled and chuckled. It hadn’t done that in a while.  “Are we really gonna play this lie the whole night?” Part of him hoped so. There was something endearing and refreshing in that little game, the same way there was something terribly irresistible in that girl.       “You wanna spend the whole night with me? Who told you I was that kind of girl?” She harrumphed, hand over her heart like an amazingly lame actress, an overly dramatic gesture that was certainly intended.         “You’re impossible.” Leon confessed but there was no hint of criticism or annoyance, quite the opposite. He was actually having fun drinking here with that girl he didn’t know. “No. I’m just a girl pretending to be someone she’s not – aka Y/SN - talking to a man named Scott who just lost his wife and kids to his best friend.”           “Not just his wife and kids, his dog too. A beagle. Poppy.” She laughed, getting the tiny nod to John Wick and he looked glad that she did. “And what’s Y/SN’s backstory?”             “I found yours. You could at least found mine.” She retorted and let him think. And for a second, as she stared at him scratching his stubble, finding him insanely handsome, she realised he hadn’t touch his drink in a small while. Good.   “Y/SN is a college student with unresolved daddy issues trying to get the attention of a man possibly twice her age to cope with the fear of abandonment his father left her with when he left her and her mom.”         “Was Dad an alcoholic?” She declared on purpose, just to see if the word would trigger his desire to drink. It incredibly did not.   “Might explain why you’re so interested in a loser like me.”

She stayed the whole night with him. Talking. Playing. Flirting in ways only she could do. Creating an undeniable connection, a sharp sexual tension that only a man deprived of all senses would have missed. She gave him a signal (if not more) with her eyes, called him with her lips. And he responded with a similar technique, a similar enthusiasm. And at the end of the night, when she got up from her stool and kissed him goodbye, right at the corner of his lips, she realised she could potentially spend the hottest night of her life if she chose to lead him in her room. After all, it was no secret for either of them. She wanted to fuck him and he wanted to fuck her.           But a part of her decided to play hard to get, decided that this night would be a sweet game, a foreplay in their roleplay. And luckily for her, he was a player. Just like her.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

Characters: Oikawa Tooru/Sakusa Kiyoomi/Miya Osamu

Request: Hi! Do you think you can make headcanons for Oikawa, Sakusa and osamu, with an s/o thats a medical student? 🙏🏻😳

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.9K (~600 a piece)

Notes:  I’m v v v sorry for the recent lack of updates! I’m moving back to uni on Tuesday and I didn’t plan accordingly and get fics lined up >.<

Oikawa Tooru

The most supportive bean oml he’s so cute

It’s definitely not easy considering he’s in Argentina, but he does his best to check up on you whenever he can.  You have a tendency to over-work yourself while studying, so someone needs to remind you to take a break and get some rest dumbass literally doesn’t take his own advice smh

You should hear him when he’s talking to his team about you.  “Oh, you mean Y/N?  My DOCTOR s/o?  Yeah, that’s right.  I’m dating a doctor.”  You aren’t even a doctor yet, but he’s going to tell everyone he knows that his s/o is a ✨doctor✨

He can’t really help you study because of the distance, but if you ever need to vent to him about classes or your residency, boy is there.  He is listening intently while you spill all the tea!  Oikawa likes the drama, what can he say?  It’s like his personal soap opera.

Oikawa takes so many screenshots while you video chat.  You’re probably going over notes or working on homework and he’s just collecting all the photos.

He’s going to post them on his instagram later, captioning it with something like, “yeah, your s/o may be great, but are they a doctor?  lol didn’t think so 😜” and you’ll have to comment “Tooru, I’m not a doctor yet.”

But, Tooru literally does not care.  He can’t get over the fact that you’re so?? Smart?? You could be telling him about something you learned in class that day and he’ll be nodding along, like he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but to be honest?

He doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about.  You keep using these big words and he’s just “?????”

Oh, but he learns, because he’s a good boyfriend for sure.  He has sticky notes all over his apartment with random medical words that he’s heard you say.  It’s low-key just to impress you, but also Oikawa really does care about what you’re talking about and he wants to be able to follow the conversation better.  

Boy learns his new vocabulary words in Japanese and Spanish to further impress you and because he knows that you find it really hot when he speaks Spanish.

Brb cackling at the idea of oikawa just spewing a random Spanish diagnosis in your ear during sex because he can’t remember how to say what he wants to tell you

Everytime you reach a milestone in your med school career?  He’s bragging so much.  You’d think that he was the one who made the dean’s list or that he was the one who finished the classroom section and was moving onto their residency.

He’s honestly just so proud of you and wants to show you off, because you’re just so driven and passionate about everything you do.  It’s a big reason why he fell in love with you in the first place.  

Peep him cheering the loudest when you finally complete your residency.  Stand right there.  He wants to take pictures of his s/o looking fine as hell in their white coat with their MD, so he can brag to everyone he meets that his s/o is officially a doctor

The proud smile on his face when you’ve finally done it?  Irreplaceable.  He’s been your biggest supporter through this whole thing.  To him, watching you do this is as amazing as doing it himself.

He’s going to frame your degree and hang it up right by the door of the apartment when you two move in together.  Just a gentle reminder that he’s dating a doctor, no big deal.

You could try to tell him that you’re proud of him for following his dreams and making it to the big leagues and he’s just, “yeah, but who graduated medical school 🤗”

AWWW WAIT

If you open up your own practice one day ;-; this baby is just beaming with pride, taking all the pictures and all of the videos as you cut the ribbon to announce the opening

Marry him.  Marry him or I will.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You probably complained once about the workload, saying that it was so much harder than you ever anticipated, and this son of a bitch would just scoff like, “It can’t be that difficult.”

But, it’s that difficult and you let him figure that out.  You handed him a stack of your assignments and said, “If it’s so easy, you do it.”

Insert Sakusa Kiyoomi hunched over the table for three hours, just staring at the page, occasionally flipping through your textbook and medical dictionary as if either of those things would help him. 

He literally handed you back a blank paper and didn’t say a word.

Honestly, he has no idea how to help you study, but he’ll try his best.  If you hand him a study guide or a stack of flash cards, he’ll sit on the couch with you and quiz you until you know each and every one better than you know yourself.

He’s not exactly going out of his way to learn about medicine so that he can better converse with you, but he does pick up on a few things

Kiyoomi’s gotten pretty good at breaking down the medical terms from long hours of helping you study.  He has a decent understanding of what some of the roots and suffixes mean, so when you start talking about something from school, he can usually at least pin down some of the information

Sakusa is going to use your career path to his advantage though.  He wants to know what disinfectants they're using at the hospital and can you get him some?  

He’s already pretty private about his personal life, especially when it comes to his relationship with you, so outside of his small friend group, he hasn’t told many people that you’re a med student.

This doesn’t make him any less proud though.  He’s just more quiet about it.  But, he’ll celebrate all of the little accomplishments right there with you, texting you right before you take a big test to wish you luck and taking you out for ice cream or a nice dinner when you get your results

If he gets a long break at practice, he’ll go take you lunch, just so he knows that you’re taking care of yourself properly.

MASK SELFIES

You stay up really late trying to memorize the proper treatments and where to make incisions and things like that, so if Kiyoomi doesn’t ask you to come to bed, it’s very possible that you just won’t? And he’s learned that the hard way.

Right before your finals you told him, “Yeah, I’m just going to study for another hour or so and then I’ll head to bed.”

He literally found you asleep at the kitchen table, your notecards all over the floor because you knocked them off at some point in the night

But, Sakusa is a good boyfriend so he’ll make you breakfast and some tea or coffee to help you start your day.

Speaking of coffee and tea.  He’s limiting your caffeine intake :)  oh, you want a cup of coffee/tea at 9 pm?  “That shit better be decaf.”  it’s literally just so you can sleep.  Once 5 pm hits, he doesn’t let you have caffeine, but it’d be bogus if he sat next to you with a cup of tea, so he also doesn’t have caffeine in the evenings.  

He’s definitely the type to show you that he cares more so than actually tell you how much he loves you

Miya Osamu

Superior twin

This is a joke i love both miya boys equally, even if atsumu does have piss hair

N E WAY.  Osamu has no fucking clue what you’re talking about 90% of the time and I hate to break it to you, but-

He’s not going to take the time to learn like the others.  He may stop you to ask questions, but that’s really it.

It’s not like he doesn’t care though!  Osamu really loves that you’re following your passions.  He just knows that even if you do explain it to him, he’s probably going to get lost in all of the logistics. 

Most of the time, you’ll just see him nodding along with what you’re saying, popping in with a question or a comment every now and then.  While he may not understand what you’re saying, he does take some interest in it.

He’ll ask you things about the medical equipment in your bag.  Like, how does the blood pressure cuff work?  Have you ever given yourself stitches?  If he were to cut his hand chopping ingredients, could you fix it right here in the kitchen or would you still take him to the hospital?  Can you really hear his heartbeat with those weird headphone things? It’s called a stethoscope ‘samu smh

Osamu is the king of making sure that you take good care of yourself.  This man? Oh, he’s packing you a lunch every single day you have to go to class.

Better yet?  If you come down to Onigiri Miya between classes, he’s going to pile your plate full of food and then he’s got a to-go container with more, just in case you get hungry.  He has your favorite drink stocked so it’s there whenever you come by.

He won’t sit with you, because he’s usually pretty busy, but he will let you sit at the counter so he can talk to you while he prepares more onigiri.

‘Samu always asks how your day went.  It’s the first thing out of his mouth whenever he sees you after your classes.  

If you guys get done around the same time, he’ll meet you at your university to walk home with you.

He makes sure that you drink plenty of water.  He’s like a waiter, I swear.  Osamu will walk past you like every 20 minutes just to make sure that you have enough water and if he sees that you haven’t been drinking your water-

Prepare for a lecture on the importance of hydration as if you don’t already know that?? 

“‘Samu, I’ve had five glasses of water.  I’m not thirsty.”

“You need to stay hydrated!”

He’ll try to help you study if you ask, but it usually ends up with you laughing as he tries to pronounce some medical term.  He’ll toss the flashcard to the side and just huff, “That’s probably not going to be on the test.”

Like Sakusa, he’s pretty reserved when it comes to talking about his personal life, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have a picture of the two of you on your graduation day hanging up in Onigiri Miya.

He’s not going to say anything about it first though, but if someone asks? He can gush about you for a good ten minutes while his patrons smile and nod.  Telling them how proud he is that his incredible s/o graduated from medical school with flying colors, explaining what field you’re in and what that means he’s literally just repeating what you told him once oops

[mermaidsirennikita]

Based on your description of Nellie I’m v excited for her book!!! Until then can you recommend any books where the heroine has a similar vibe? Thanks!

Nellie is the BEST, definitely buy The Bride Goes Rogue when it comes out, so good and you get more Nellie/Lockwood seeding. I'm like. This close to @ ing Joanna Shupe on Twitter about them, I just love her work.

I've recommended this one before (lol i feel bad for not being a faster reader for y'all, like I deadass am like "I wish I had more things I truly loved for people who ask me questions") but Daring and The Duke by Sarah MacLean would be a good one. Grace isn't quite as lighthearted as Nellie (I think she has secret pain though) but she's very sexually bold and experienced and kind of meets challenges head on. Also, they are both redheads and both of them have dukes who are utterly obsessed with them.

After Dark with The Duke has a heroine who I personally think fits this well! Mariana is an opera singer who's had her share of affairs and public scandals, and like... I think she's ashamed of how it all went down, but she's not ashamed of being a sexual woman, if that makes sense. That was refreshing. Again, her love interest is a duke, and he's so *flustered* and *hot* over her. He teaches her Italian for the sake of her singing and at one point she's like "some man told me this and I don't know what it means" and innocently writes it down for him and he's like "DEAR GOD SHIT UHHHHHH I GOTTA LEAVE" because it says "please fuck me" in Italian. We love a man who is overcome.

The Viscount and The Vixen by Lorraine Heath--less lighthearted and the heroine is a bit more.... Idk. Serious? But she's also unashamed and she has a real past, and I loved that. There's no shy virginal attitude here, and the hero has to like, learn shit about his own biases.

The Scot Beds His Wife by Kerrigan Byrne has a widowed, American heroine who is crafty but not apologetic about her history. Paired with an enemies/rivals to lovers Scottish lord.

The Devil in Her Bed by Kerrigan Byrne also has a reckless, freewheeling heroine (though I think she is technically a virgin? I'm not sure). Either way, she's bold and brash and he is ABOUT IT. Also, espionage!

A Scot in The Dark by Sarah MacLean may also work here. The heroine experiences some shame because her previous lover painted her nude and she's trying to hide the painting--the hero is her Scottish ward. They fuck in a carriage. It's hot as shit. Also, Bombshell by Sarah MacLean has a truly brazen, sexually bold heroine who I love.

The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe has a bold, flirtatious heroine who wants to get out there and experience the world and run a casino for ladies. Joanna Shupe is very good at writing these forward thinking heroines without making them annoying. Also, The Prince of Broadway has a scene where they like... masturbate together while watching a peep show and not looking at each other. It's... good.