#but yeah they both are really good at giving us scraps of information about themselves

[spacemilkbag]

you raise a good point actually. i think everyone sharing the old quackity subway q&a manifested this somehow

they really bring out the worst (best) in each other

[404writes]

Imagine: Alden and Carl at work

Summary: Alden and Carl are both apprenticing as blacksmiths at Earl's shop in Hilltop, finding comfort in staying late and working on their own projects, bonding over not much else, except Enid.

Notes: Kinda jumbling around the timeline here. Post-whisperer era, Alnid exists

Word Count: 620

A/N: this is just a little imagine type piece i wrote, if this is well-recieved i might write more in this format, it was really enjoyable to write with no real end goal, but rather to play around with a scenario. -404 ~

They'd stayed late again, Earl had left many hours beforehand, and neither of the boys knew what time it was. On nights like these, Alden was usually the first of the pair to depart, leaving Carl to potter around alone for however long he wished. But tonight, they wrapped up around the same time. They usually kept to themselves in this setting, working alongside each other but never questioning what the other was doing. That's not to say they weren't friends, they got along excellently in a social setting, but they mutually understood the boundaries set at work. They both used the place as somewhere to unload and mindlessly do the job they enjoyed, conversation would make it redundant.

A routine had been established, they had their own space, their own equipment, and the handful of phrases that were acceptable to use during a late-night session. Alden would work at the storefront, tinkering with pieces of scrap metal, Carl would stay out back, enclosed in a corner, usually sitting on a bench doing a task secretively. They'd cross paths to remove their tools from the shelf which they all resided, but apart from that there was no physical indication the other was in the shop, only the knowing reassurance that they just were.

Alden was usually the one to initiate the nightly, short-lived small talk, only when Carl was in his physical presence. "Stayin' late tonight?" "Think so, you?" "Yeah, got stuff to do." "Work? Or a project?" "Project, seeing what kind of rings and stuff I can make with that scrap metal Earl left." "Oh, that's cool. For Enid?" "Yeah, she says the rings she steals from the dead hardly ever fit her, I told her she'd have more success taking a less morbid approach to jewellery shopping, but she insists it'd feel immoral to get them from an old world shop. Hopefully she'll let me give her some fitting, handmade ones." "God, I can just hear her saying that. She does it with their pockets too! She'll clear them out and find something she likes, get so excited, and act so stunned that she found it, like she's the luckiest person alive! As if she couldn't have just raided any old house and found ten of the same thing."

They'd both laugh.

After an exchange like that, Carl would wish him luck, Alden would tell him not to stay too late that night. By the time the last sentence was finished, they'd both be out of sight.

~

Although they were decently close, they both got a majority of their information about each other through Enid. She'd tell Alden how awesome Carl was, she'd talk to Alden every time she got back from reading comics in the forest with him, telling him how it was nice to have a friend like that. She'd talk about his family too, walking him through her plans to go back to Alexandria with Carl when he next went back, because she really missed Judith. Alden soaked up the information.

Enid would tell Carl how happy she was with Alden, and how she had a gut feeling he was the man she'd be with forever. She'd tell him how there were still people out to get him, because he was once a saviour, and how it scared her, especially after it once got him badly injured. Carl would agree with her, and tell her that he's happy for her, that she's made a good decision choosing him.

Enid was happy she didn't have to worry about Alden seeing Carl as a threat to their relationship. Even though if he did, she'd definitely see the concern as justifiable. She was also happy that she didn't have to worry about Carl becoming threatened by Alden's position in her life, she was grateful that he was nothing but happy for her.

~

taglist: @unadulterated-syd

[sukirichi]

scarlet

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

CONTENT/WARNINGS. vampire! megumi, reincarnation au, somnophilia, blood drinking, smut, murder, suicidal thoughts, angst, war, violence, all the dark themes you can expect from vampire!au such as biting, scratching, slight blood play, character death + UNEDITED. I’ll edit this tomorrow because I really want this to be of good quality but for now yeah, sorry for typos and awkward grammar 

NOTE. thank you so much to vampire nonnie for requesting this, I absolutely LOVED writing this, I think this is my favorite ever work. It’s totally different and a lot more serious than what I usually write too, so thank you!

WC. 13k+

PLAYLIST: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Zayn, Taylor Swift) ; Fire on Fire (Sam Smith) ; Dusk Til Dawn (Zayn, Sia) ; My Nocturnal Serenade (Yohio)

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

BLUSH [001.]

The morning market bustled with people, the villagers bumping your shoulders left and right. You tried your best to squeeze through the crowd as you followed your mother. You’d recently come of age, and now you had to come with your mother to retrieve food and supplies while your father hunted and chopped wood for the upcoming winter. 

Your mother pinched the apples of your cheeks whilst she smiled, reminding you that you could meet a nice young man at any moment and you had to look as presentable as ever.

The idea of living out the same fairytale your parents happily created for themselves had you gazing up at your mother in wonder. 

You came from a happy family, with a doting mother and a supportive father who never stopped smiling through the hardships. While your mother was the fire that warmed the hearth of your humble home, your father was the sturdy wood that kept each and everyone steady and strong, and you? You were the light of their lives.

To be able to find a soulmate like that and have a family of your own, you wanted nothing more.

But your mind easily changed when people pushed past you, sending you scowls and profanities when you bunched your skirt up, your tattered boots hitting against the wet mud of the market. Your humble village wasn’t blessed with the warmest weather, but it was fine, since your family brought enough sunshine to your life that you never minded. Until now, that was. 

Your boots were soiled and you were panting as you ran after your mother, her eyes crinkled as she chit-chatted with the vendors. Inside her basket were two fishes, five apples, and a few pinches of herbs that wouldn’t have really satisfied any of you.

In this side of the town, your village received the poorer suffrage of lack of food. Nevertheless, your mother’s smile and glee upon having her basket half-full reminded you that there would be better times. Not wanting to lose her again, you clutched your arm around her bicep, panting for air while she gazed back up at you worriedly.

“Child,” she cooed, cupping your face. “What ever is the matter? What could’ve had you gasping for air this way? Is there something you are running away from?”

“Mother, you are the one I am running after,” you informed her with a laugh, and your mother gasped in surprise.

“My, I am so sorry! I completely forgot that you were still new here! Oh, and your boots—”

“It is fine, mother,” you reassured, your hands coming up besides her cheek this time around to stop her from fretting over your shoes. It was beyond worn out, tattered and mouth almost opening. They had promised to get you a new one for your birthday, but a single pair cost more than a week’s worth of food that you didn’t have the heart to let them do that.

Both your parents were disheartened; they wanted to give you the best, of course, but it didn’t matter to you. 

You understood the notion of wanting to look your absolute best in hopes of catching the eye of a future lover, but the idea didn’t sit entirely well with you if they had to base their attraction on mere physical appearance. Besides, it was called soulmate, was it not? There had to be a connection – a pull, of sorts – between two souls, and not from the perspective of the naked eye.

If you really were to meet your soulmate, they would see right through your skin and deeper than the depth into of your bones, their eyes looking directly onto where everything mattered most – the heart, the soul, the core. 

Your mother’s gaze softened at the sight of you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as she cooed at how beautiful you were. 

Endlessly, she reminded you that you were the most precious blessing of her life in par with your father, and when your mother doted on you like that, how could you not flush with appreciation, eyes bashful and chest swelling with love?

You were a firm believer people were their most beautiful when they radiated kindness and are capable of unconditional love. After all, what could be more beautiful than a compassionate soul? Undoubtedly, you wanted to love someone like that, a person capable of kindness and strength even in the darkest situations; one who could see beyond the weary boots and dirt-stained old clothing you wore.

It seemed that someone had the same idea in mind for you felt a burning sensation at your face. Eyes flitting over your mother’s head, your breath hitched when you were met with soft, blue eyes that put your village’s stormy sky a shame.

Midnight blue swirling with warmth like hot milk on a rainy day, the feeling of having your lover’s arms wrapped around you and their gentle breaths whispering against your ear – that’s what you felt like when you saw him for the first time.

He stood outside his father’s shop frozen, eyes wide and locked with yours, the amount of scrapped metal suddenly weighing a ton despite his growing muscles.

Unsure of what to do but appreciative of the wondered boy, you shyly ducked your head down, peering up at him under your lashes with the smallest of smiles visible on your face. You raised your hand to wave at him when your mother tugged you away, chattering about getting you a cheesecake despite not having much to afford it, only because she felt something good would happen today.

And your mother was right – she rarely wasn’t, in the first place.

Nearly stumbling over your steps, you turned back to the young man, no longer hesitating before you beamed at him, fingers flickering into a small, delicate wave perfected by young women your age. 

His reaction was immediate – a mad blush to his cheeks, and his body growing rigid at being caught staring at you. 

You didn’t mind though. If anything, you felt giddy, and there was an unmistakeable bounce in your steps all the way back home.

BLUSH [002.]

His name was Fushiguro Megumi. He was the son of your village’s infamous blacksmith, who everyone dubbed as ‘Scarface Toji.’

All kinds of rumours about his father spread around the village, ranging from how he used to be a bloody merchant who worked for the King and lived a life without regards for others. As long as he was given enough coins, Scarface Toji would do anything.

Your parents had pinched your waist the moment you mentioned it to them. Your father shook his head disapprovingly over a cup of fresh milk, reminding you again and again that you shouldn’t believe rumors. Apparently, Scarface Toji was just a widowed man left with a baby son before he could even say goodbye to his wife, and he migrated from another town to here in order to start all over again in hopes of giving a better life for his son than the one he previously lived.

It was hard to believe it at first. Toji was a huge man who always carried multiple weapons, but after learning that he just made them and never wielded them, you eventually believed that the man was harmless. 

Your respect for him only increased when his son came mere days later, his hands trembling in his chest as he requested to have a presence with you, flowers clutched in his chest.

You were at your room that one dewy morning, fluffing and fixing your bed when your mother squealed from the doorway, followed by your father’s light hearted voice telling her to calm down. Not moments later, your mother had clipped ribbons in your hair and flattened down your housedress, the grin on her face unexplainable and slightly terrifying.

The burning question at the back of your head was soon answered when you were met by the same young man you’d smiled at the other day. Fushiguro Megumi, he introduced, and until now, you could still remember the way your heart skipped a beat as he said, May I court you?

Only that time around, your father answered for you.

You were actually flummoxed he didn’t take out his hunting gun – like how he always did when other males requested a presence with you – and patted Megumi’s shoulder instead, asking to accompany him at the back to go chop some wood.

It was unspoken tradition that suitors had to impress the lady’s father first. You were more surprised when Megumi happily agreed, rolling his shoulders back to prepare for the task.

The smile he sent your way was boyish, shy even, but determination and anticipation shone through them, somehow leaving you wanting more than before. You and your mother, too curious as ever, wouldn’t stop giggling as you watched both men chop wood in the back, talking about the most mundane things ever like how Megumi’s father was faring, or how his studies was doing.

Megumi felt at ease enough with your father, the sleeves of his shirt pushed all the way to his elbows while he raised the axe. He was effortless in splitting the wood in two, not a break of sweat evident on his translucent skin.

“My, he’s a strong one!” your mother praised, her body practically thrown all over your body as she watched Megumi do more work while your father chatted his ear off. “Handsome too!”

“Mother!” you scolded, though the embarrassed giggles let her know you weren’t really complaining. She was right, Megumi was strong and definitely handsome; with a chiselled jaw, a pointed nose, striking eyes and arm littered with veins and cuts that he got from early ages of hard work.

Once your mother noticed that they were finishing up, she hastily yanked you back into the kitchen. She fretted more than you did about teaching you how to make the perfect meal; that the best way to reward them for their hard work was through a nice, warm meal.

You were too shy to ever vocalize that you wanted to impress Megumi with your cooking skills. Thankfully, your mother pried no further when you quietly asked her to leave the meal to yourself, already preparing out the ingredients while she picked the best flowers from the front yard to decorate the table with.

When Megumi arrived, his eyes roamed around the humble walls of your home almost as if looking for something.

You stood there at the corner, teeth sunken into your lip while your toes curled inside your slippers. Soon, his gaze landed on yours, his lips breaking out into one of the sweetest smiles – one that was far sweeter than the nectar you sipped from the flowers in your youth.

There was no proper explanation to why you stepped forward, a dip in your brow as you wiped at the beads of sweat that had now accumulated beneath his eyes.

His hair stood up in spikes pointed in different directions. You chuckled when it wouldn’t tame down at each stroke of your finger, and Megumi mimicked the melodious sound pouring from your lips. Too lost in the sensation of having his soft strands running through your hands, you forgot that Megumi was technically still a stranger, and you froze when his touch wrapped around your wrist.

You looked up at him then, an apology right there at the tip of your tongue for invading his privacy when he murmured, “Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

If the sound of his laughter was harmonious before, then his voice could only be compared to honeydew and pastel splatters of the skies clashing in the horizon. Warm, gentle, soothing – you were right, he felt like the embrace of a kind soul in a stormy, cold day.

So you melted, unable to fight back your smile as you leaned closer into his touch.

“Hi.”

BLUSH [003.] 

It was one of those rare days that the sun shone down brightly onto your village. The sun had stopped hiding behind the clouds, extending its fingertips down to graze at the greenery of your home, the light filtered through the thick branches of trees that you were currently hiding at.

You had to muffle your giggle with the back of your hand, eyes darting around to inspect if Megumi was anywhere close to you.

Half a year had passed ever since he courted you, winning not only your heart, but the approval and warm welcome of your parents into your home at the same time. It made sense that he had easily placated himself beside you at all times that Megumi eventually earned a seat at your dining table. Not only was he the loving, gentle soul you had always yearned for, but Megumi understood you in more ways than one.

In fact, it almost felt like you had lived your life with a missing piece of yourself.

Now that you had found him, the both of you showed no signs of wanting to pull away. Shy hand holding had transitioned into sneaky kisses, strong arms pulling you into a corner to kiss you goodbye before he retreated back home, your mind hotwiring as you reminisced his lips over your cheeks over and over again. Funnily enough, it became harder to sleep.

Why would you want to sleep and dream when every waking moment was magical enough?

Just as you tip-toed behind another tree to hide from your lover who hadn’t stopped attacking you with tickles, you stepped on a dry leaf, the crunching sound resonating onto the wide forest.

“Blast,” you muttered to yourself, eyes closed as you awaited the impact.

Just as you’d expected, Megumi came running behind you. Graceful in his movements as ever, you both laughed as Megumi flipped you both over before you could fall, your weight falling on top of his while his back hit the flowery fields.

“Found you, lover,” he teased, his hands curious as they ran up and down your sides. “It’s going to take a lot more than that if you want to run away from me, you know. No matter where you are, no matter how long it takes, I’ll do what it takes to find you and have you in my arms all over again.”

“Silly,” you teased as you leaned close to him, rubbing your noses together that pulled out a boyish laughter from him. “I would never run nor hide from you, my love. Where you are is where I wish to be?”

“Is that so?”

“No doubt it.”

“Then,” he interlaced his fingers with yours, gaze solemn as the sun shifted. The looming trees overhead provided you both privacy and shelter, nothing but small streaks of light caressing both your skins as Megumi’s lips padded over your knuckles, thumbs grazing at your wrists. Nothing could prepare you for what was to come next. You couldn’t tell what would happen, but he’d grown serious, voice low as he announced, “Marry me. I’ll take care and love you for the rest of my life. What else do we have to wait for?”

Your heart drummed in your chest loudly that you could no longer hear his next words.

Whether he said something or not, none of it mattered. For spending those six months with him already felt like a lifetime and you were greedy – you wanted to be with him more, to hold him tighter, and kiss him a little longer. He was right – there was no need to wait.

And you certainly didn’t wait as you yanked him by the collar, your lips meeting in a heated kiss. You could feel each other smile as your arms wrapped around his neck. 

The kiss told him everything you couldn’t put into words. A hundred yes, a thousand I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and a million I love you’s. Megumi released all the love and passion he held for you when he pushed his lips against yours just as intensely, his scent blanketing over you like a veil of comfort.

There was no need to wait.

You and Megumi ran hand-in-hand all the way back to your home, the joyous laughter of the memories of youth and innocent summer romance the only music that era would ever know. Slamming the door open, both chests heaving with air and pinkies looped together, your smile fell off your face when an unfamiliar gentleman faced your way at the sudden intrusion.

He was tall, taller than Megumi and a lot broader. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a slick knot, ears pierced with black earrings that added to the darkness of his aura. His smile was nothing but eerie as his unwelcomed gaze travelled all the way down your form before his eyes darkened to the hand yours was connected with. 

Sat behind him were your parents; even with their heads turned away from you, the grim looks painting their faces was evident.

“Mother? Father?” you stepped closer to Megumi, not missing the way the gentleman’s frown deepened. “May I ask what is the meaning of this? Had I heard we’d be having a visitor, I’d have stayed to welcome him,” turning to the gentleman, your back arched into a deep bow. “Forgive me, Sir, I was direly uninformed of your presence. I do not mean any rudeness. Please forgive me.”

“She is perfect, just as I’ve heard.”

Before any of you could react, the man had stood up. If he was tall before, his stance was terrifyingly imposing now as he looked down at both of you and Megumi. Your lover stiffened beside you before his arms encircled your waist, pressing you flush against him while your palms flattened on his chest.

His accelerated heartbeat matched yours, lips turning dry at the situation.

The man scoffed for a moment upon seeing your comfort for your lover, then he smirked, head lolled to the side as he announced the words that would soon end the ruin of your life.

“Ah, yes, young love. What a magical thing to experience,” In the blink of an eye, he pushed Megumi to the side, your body crashing into this man’s broad chest while he possessively placed a palm over your head. You couldn’t move, eyes wide and mouth dry as your mother began to cry, while your father simply kept his gaze to his feet. Megumi mirrored your stance, hands clenched into fists though he too, made no move. 

There was no telling what would happen next. 

“But that is all in the past now. Fortunately for you, my dear, you’ve wonderfully fulfilled your duty as a child to be your parents’ future. Now come with me, you’ve got some dolling up to do.”

BLUSH [004.] 

They lied to you.

When your parents told you that poverty didn’t mean anything and a family was still a family no matter what happened, they didn’t mean it. It was all a lie.

Memories of being dragged outside your house and thrown into a carriage fancier and more expensive than anything your parents could ever afford even after a lifetime’s work remained burned in your head like a searing memory. You couldn’t remember how your parents reacted at your disposal; you couldn’t even look at them, the betrayal sitting hard and square right at your face.

But he remained at the back of your mind.

You had only been so young then, hopelessly in love, and you still are, you very much are. You closed your eyes as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill when you replayed the image of Megumi running after the carriage while you cried out for him, begging for him to save you. Your new husband had only snickered to himself then, well-aware your lover could never catch up.

Soon, Megumi grew tired, the dark patches of mud so familiar to you from your village transforming into wide greenery that led to bridges crossed to another town that would eventually lead you into the castle.

Suguro Geto, a man twice your age, barely had to lift a finger when he decided to buy you as his wife. 

He was a higher ranking official under the King’s command himself. Wealth, power, luxury – he had them all, and he could and did provide everything you needed with just a simple request. 

You supposed you should feel thankful. Days of sleeping with an empty stomach and a parched throat was nothing but a distant memory now, your skin soothed with only the finest silk and people bowing the moment you walked through the door. Gone was the poor girl from the countryside who wrestled with pigs once in her life when you’d accidentally dropped a slice of bread in the pig pen – only a refined, intelligent, and extremely obedient wife of Sir Geto was in place.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Geto, despite his tyrannical personality and no hesitance when it came to abusing what he was capable of, was extremely disinterested in you. It was no secret – to both you and the servants – that he brought women around all the time. Even after years of marriage, not once had he laid a finger on you, opting to buy a bigger bed instead to keep the space between you both.

You were perfect for him; you were everything he wanted.

A woman who did everything he asked, a lady who smiled and chatted exuberantly when needed, both beauty, brain, and elegance combined into one, but most of all, you did not want him. And that was why Suguru treasured you above all, for you were the one who prevented him from being tied down to even worse women who were obsessive with him. In payment to your silence and submission, he provided you with all the comfort and luxury you could ever ask for. 

Though you never did ask for anything.

Your only wish was to return home – but you dared not utter these desires for you knew it was as far away as a distant galaxy. Nothing but emptiness and dread accompanied you with each passing day, the image of Megumi soon faltering into your memories.

You’d lost count of the times you cried yourself to sleep while Geto laid beside you, his palms pressed into his ears while your sobs coated his velvet walls until the sun rose. If it were not for the cream spread all over your skin, people could easily see that you were a restless, broken wife instead of a happy one like you pretended to be; that your soul withered with each second.

There was no more hope, no light, no love present in the large, empty hallways of your manor. 

Suguru was out for the night, probably lurking underground casinos fucking whoever whore was desperate enough to warm his cock for the night. Your servants had long retired to their quarters, and with nothing much else left to do, you left your room, the nightgown barely wrapped around your shoulders as you padded to the garden barefoot.

The grass was a lot softer here in his manor than it ever was back at home. Home – wherever that was. You couldn’t find your way back to it.

Everything here seemed tens of thousand times better than anything, and yet it felt so empty. Hollow. Dark. Meaningless. Even as you perched yourself upon the swing, feet kicking into the ground until you soared high enough that the moonlight caressed your skin, you found no beauty in everything.

Everything you once treasured faded into the night.

A rustling sound made you plant your heels flat on the ground, eyes narrowed at the source of the sound. The bushes behind you stilled, and you sat up from your seat, hands coming up to tug your gown back to your body as if it would protect you. “Who’s there?” you demanded, “You are not allowed to trespass the Geto Manor or else—”

Your words were swallowed right back when the figure appeared from behind the bushes. Even after years, you would still be able to recognize that face anywhere. The untamed hair, the flat lips, those eyes that had always reminded you of the skies you’ve grown tired staring at – your feet moved faster before your mind could comprehend it.

Megumi barely staggered as he caught you in his arms, your cries muffled by the collar of his shirt. Your heart tore into pieces and healed right back when Megumi buried his face into the crook of your neck, muttering I’m sorry over your skin over and over again.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi’s voice cracked, “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. I am sorry I couldn’t run after you. I am sorry I didn’t—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your hands trembling as you cupped his cheeks. Too long, it had been too long, and your hands were everywhere. On his hair, at the nape of his neck, grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer – you ravaged him with your lips and hands that a string of saliva threaded between your mouths when you gasped for air, only to kiss him harder the second time around.

Megumi’s hand came up to clutch at your bottoms, his body now firmer and bigger than the last time you remembered. He smelled like home, felt like heaven, tasted like bliss and the saltiness of your tears mixed in with his delectable self.

“I love you,” you declared, the sobs wracking through your chest before your head fell on his shoulder. Megumi doesn’t stop you when you fisted his shirt, his hands only patting your back as you hiccupped, the tears now drenching his shirt. “I love you, I love you, please, my love, run away with me, let’s live somewhere else, okay?” You cupped his cheeks, your thumbs swiping away at the tears that had also stained his pretty face.

Megumi nodded, not wasting another second when the both of you treaded through a very thin line by kissing you all over again, his lips flushed with yours.

There was no need for air. The only thing you needed at this moment was to have him beside you, and just as Megumi pulled away to tell you he’d do anything for you, blood spilled past his lips. You watched as the red liquid splattered from his lips and dripped down your chest, and that’s when you felt the piercing pain through your chest.

Megumi dropped you, your body colliding on the ground with a loud thud. Your chest bled from a shallow cut, though that was the last thing you paid attention to when Geto stood behind your lover, red eyes shining through the brilliant night and long fangs sinking down his chest.

Your screams were muffled with Geto’s palm as he showed up right in front of you in a flash, his cold touch sending shivers down your spine. 

He forced you to watch as your lover fell in front of you, a sword poking through his chest. You struggled against your husband’s hold, but he was far stronger and bigger than you that you fell limp into his chest. Geto barely blinked an eye as your nails sank down to his skin hard enough to draw blood from his pale skin.

“Watch, darling,” he purred into your ear, “You wanted to be with your lover forever, right? Then let me grant you wish – I’ll give you the forever you always wanted.”

“Why are you doing this?!” you bit back through the palm covering your mouth, vision blurred as tears coated your face. “I did everything for you! I did everything you asked me too – you didn’t have to kill him, he was the only one that mattered to me, how dare you?!”

“No reason, darling,” Geto pushed you off his lap before tugging Megumi’s shirt, revealing his lifeless and bloodied face staring right at you. “I was simply…drunk, you could say. I was not pleased to find my wife locking lips with another man.”

“I was never yours,” you spat out, hands dug deep to the earth underneath you.

“No, you’re not. Your heart was always owned by another, was it not?” Geto tipped his head as he watched Megumi’s lifeless form crumble back to life, a guttural groan echoing through his throat. Your eyes widened when his head snapped upwards, striking blood red eyes that resembled Geto’s glowing under the moonlight. You crawled backwards until your back hit the three, unable to recognize the man in front of you. Geto stands to the side, his long and sharp tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “Young ones are always the most dangerous. I cannot wait to see how this one goes.”

“Megumi!”

“Thirsty, are you not?” Geto taunted. At the sound of his voice, Megumi leapt to him with dark claws extended. A scream ripped from your lips, one that was immediately silenced when Geto effortlessly wrapped a hand around Megumi’s neck, choking him until his limbs flailed helpessly in the air.

“Ah, ah, ah, I won’t suggest drinking my blood. You would find it repulsive,” A sickening snap resonated in your ears as Geto broke Megumi’s arm to turn him your way, fangs bared and animalistic growls making your lover seem unrecognizable. You sat there, frozen and panting. Why couldn’t you move? “Your human lover is right there, though. Go on, take a look,” he whispered in the younger man’s ear, his red eyes glinting with amusement. “See her luscious skin? Hear the rapid heartbeat pulsing at the juncture of her neck, begging you to ravish her? That is what you’ve always wanted, right? To claim your woman as yours?”

Megumi’s fierce growl was enough to make you bury yourself harder in the tree trunk, the tears streaming freely down your face before Geto released his hold on him. “If it makes you feel better, I never touched her. She is all yours for the taking. Now, drink.”

At his command, something snapped in Megumi.

All hell broke loose. The last thing you saw was a beam of crimson eyes paired with a red flush to his face maniacal with thirst. His name came out in a broken cry, Megumi’s claws ripping away at your clothes until his fangs sank down into your skin.

Your legs kicked out beneath you as you gasped for air. From behind Megumi, Geto crossed his arms to himself, soon disappearing into the night.

Megumi kept gasping and growling as he drank from you harder. The grip on his hair eventually faltered until your hand fell on the ground, his eager tongue lapping at what else dripped from the holes he’d punctured at your neck. He doesn’t let up once, hands coming up to crush your windpipe until your bones cracked at one clench of his muscles, merely a reminder of what he could now be capable of.

Was this death? you wondered before black completely clouded your vision, you were not ready for it.

ROSE [005.]

Megumi hunched over his seat, his hands making quick work of jotting down tiny details of the modern life in his notebook. It had been two hundred years since he last saw you, and the world had drastically changed ever since.

It wasn’t easy getting over your death – especially not when he snapped back into consciousness, the painful reminder that you had died from his hands haunting him in his sleep.

Not that he ever had much sleep to begin with since he was always tired and restless, his skin hollow and pale, with dark circles finding home under his metallic blue eyes that had lost their previous warmth. After years of trying to learn how to control himself through isolation in the mountains, Megumi eventually wandered back down to the city, surprised that time had flew by so fast and your old village was now unrecognizable.

People wore lavish clothing and had parasols made out of lace, making his throat dry up at the thought that lace back then cost way too much than he could ever afford.

Too much had changed indeed. So much time had passed that Megumi’s previous anger and hatred to himself had now been filled with nothing but a lingering, empty feeling that gnawed at him. No matter how much he tried to blend in with society and keep his true form a secret, nothing ever really took away the fact that he was a monster that could hurt anyone if he even lost the slightest best of control.

He didn’t even know the name of the man – no, the creature – who made him this way.

Megumi sighed as he snapped his notebook shut, conversing freely with this human friend he made. They were ‘of the same age’ as Megumi introduced. Itadori Yuuji wasn’t top of the food chain, per se, which is exactly just what Megumi wanted since the last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention. Right now, he accompanied his friend – the only person he could care about – as he got his suit fitted. Yuuji stared at his reflection endlessly, tapping at his bottoms with a thoughtful hum.

Just then, something familiar wafted into Megumi’s senses. At first, he thought it was the scent of the soap he used, but this was too…different – he was sure he’d caught whiff of it before, but he was beyond a hundred years old that it was impossible to pinpoint what it was.

His eyes fluttered outside the shop as he looked for the source of the smell. It was soft, leaving behind a lingering flutter of his chest, and before Megumi could realize it, he’d already shot up from his seat, captivated by the sound of laughter and giggles across the street. Then, he saw you. You were right there, head thrown back in laughter as you chatted with your friends, lips painted a flushed red that only broadened at something your friend had said.

“Fushiguro – where are you going?”

“My apologies, friend. I’m afraid there is somewhere I have to be,” Quickly, he stashed his notebook inside the front of his coat jacket, pushing past against the crowd and crossing the street. The closer he got, the more he recognized your laughter, your features sharpening into a crystal resemblance of the person he’d lost years ago.

He couldn’t believe it, could barely stop himself when you walked away, his hand naturally falling to grasp at your wrist.  

“Excuse me, Miss. I—” Megumi was stunned when you turned to him, your smile polite and bright as ever, not the least bothered that he pulled you out of nowhere.

“Yes? Is there something I can help you with?”

“I…I just thought I’ve seen you somewhere before. I’m sorry if that came out weird,” not wanting to be rude (your friends were glaring suspiciously at him), Megumi retracted his hands by his sides, gaze planted to his feet as it was considered impolite to hold such eye contact with the opposite sex – especially to a stranger. He could feel himself grow warmer despite his lack of body heat inside his heat, your mere presence prompting his undead hear to beat once more. It made Megumi step backwards, throat falling dry. “Uhm, I suppose I should turn back—”

“Would it be odd if I said I felt the same way?”

His head whipped up to yours so fast that it looked comical, and he was blessed by your amused smile. “What?”

“You feel familiar, and I wish to understand why,” At this point, the sound of his heartbeat that had long been forgotten drummed loudly in his ears, so much so that he could barely hear your words anymore. He had to stare at the way your lips moved, hypnotized at the same time as he tried to fathom what you said. “Would you like to have lunch this Friday? Perhaps we could…familiarize ourselves with one another more.”

It had been a long and painful two hundred years – but you were here – that Megumi would be insane to say no.

ROSE [006.]

Megumi made sure to be silent as he slammed the door shut, not wanting to wake his lovely wife who’d long retired to bed after a long day of work. The eminent darkness in your home told stories of how late it was this time of the night, nothing but silence and the faint cricketing of insects heard in the dead night.

Upon seeing you on the bed, soft breaths spilling from those lips he could never get enough of ravishing, his shirt doing a terrible job at keeping you modest, Megumi’s jaw clenched.

Tugging his tie off and discarding his jacket to the ground, Megumi made quick work of spreading your legs open, his breath caught in his throat because his naught wife decided not to wear anything. His fangs bared on instinct, the tent in his pants growing.

You were always tempting him – and despite being a fearsome creature, Megumi was always weak to resist your teasing.

Glancing at your peaceful face, Megumi bunched your shirt up above your breasts, your nipples hardening at his cold touch. Megumi sighed, not wasting another minute before his tongue dove into your awaiting lips that had already bloomed open, always so ready to welcome your husband’s eager tongue even in your sleep. He groaned at your arousal mixing with the tangy taste of tonight’s dinner.

Soft sighs could be heard above from you when Megumi licked a flat line from your hole all the way up to your clit, his hands kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs before he sucked generously at the pearl hidden by your hood.

You quivered in response as Megumi’s tongue finally entered your drenched core, his tongue teasing and expertly licking at the bumpy ridges of your walls. It gave him great pleasure to see his not-so-innocent wife trembling upon his hold, that even in your sleep, you were so responsive to him. Your reactions stirred him to plunge his tongue deeper into your hole that would normally be so filled to the brim with his cock, not stopping until you fisted at the sheets, cumming on his tongue.

Megumi drank at your juices like it was a thirsty man, making him chuckle a bit because he was always thirsty – both for you and the life that throbbed in your veins.

Kissing the inside of your thighs, your head fell to the side, unaware that the sheets were now stained with your arousal. Megumi hoisted himself up to press a kiss on your lips, his other hand gripping at his hardness before he slid himself in, low groans emitting from his lips when your warmth finally engulfed him.

He was at home.

He had both arms planted beside your head as he kept panting at your ear, his thrusts slow and passionate in order not to rouse you from your sleep. He knows how tired you are and he wanted his pretty wife to get all the rest she needed, but it was getting harder with each passing moment when you clenched around him, pupils blown wide the moment his nails dug into your hips.

“I am sorry to wake you, my wife,” Megumi apologized while littering kisses all over your skin, your moans now uncontrolled and breathy now that you were completely aware to receive the pleasure he was eagerly giving you. “I couldn’t help it – not when you are so heavenly laid out for me like this.”

“Mmh, take me as you wish, my love,” you groaned around him, your arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer. One of your legs was placed around his waist, the other knee pinned flat on the ground so Megumi could fuck into you deeper, turning you into nothing but a whining mess. “You know you can always have me whenever and however you want. If it’s you, I would never mind,” Megumi pulled his head away from your neck to gaze into your eyes instead, glowing red orbs meeting yours while his hips snapped harder. You would’ve smiled had it not been for his dark circles turning at least two shades darker, his skin gray and a little flake.

“You are pale. Have you not been feeding properly again?” Megumi intentionally ignored you, and you knew he was trying to distract you by thrusting harder into you, having never liked you to remind him of what he was. It worked for a moment, nails scratching down his back, but you cupped his cheeks you’re your warm palms, holding him tense enough that he was forced to look at you. “Megumi. Megumi, look at me – have you not been drinking well?”

“You know I refuse to.”

“You need it. At this pace you’re going at, you’re going to – ah – you might get sick and weaken, my love.”

Megumi shook his head indignantly, “I would never sink my fangs down a breathing human’s body. I refuse to give in to the demon they have made out of me.”

Your eyes softened at how those blood red eyes faltered, his fears showing through the moment his thrusts grew slower, his touch gentle against your hip. It almost felt like he was making love to you, and you gasped when his cock hit your most sensitive spot, your walls clenching and gripping around him like a vice. “You are no monster,” you told him, “Your heart is warmer and kinder than any other beating hearts I’ve come across with. You are a good person, Megumi, giving into to your hunger does not make you a demon,” when hesitance still crossed his face, you pulled him in to see the sincerity in your gaze, passionate enough to make him stutter his hips inside you. “It would be a lie if you call yourself such an atrocity when you are nothing but tender and loving when it comes to someone as fragile as I am compared to your grace.”

“I do not want to hurt you.”

“You could never, my love,” you assured him, baring your neck to him. Megumi’s eyes zeroed in on the rapid pulse visible at your tender skin, the sight enough to make his cock twitch. “Now, drink.” At your words, Megumi froze. He’d heard that same phrase before – right before he killed you by drinking you dry, and Megumi scrambled away from your hold with fear written all over his face.

Not again, not again, no, he wouldn’t hurt you – Megumi never got the chance to leave when you shushed him with a kiss, ankle buried in his back to keep him inside you. “Please, my love, let me make you feel good. I no longer wish to see you this way. Drink my blood – do it for me.”

That was enough to push him over the edge. Sending one last questioning look your way, to which you responded with a nod, eyes hazy with desire, Megumi punctured your skin. 

You cried out from the pain that added to the pleasure, and with Megumi rutting his hips fast and hard into your abused cunt that was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your husband brought you over the edge. He came not long afterwards, spilling his seed deep inside you – one you were both not worried about since he could never impregnate you.

Megumi doesn’t stop from lapping at your wound, pulling his cock out before his lips swooped down to your breasts, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

You were both breathing hard, Megumi trying to calm down the tremors of your body from the orgasm while sucking your tits, his hand caressing the other one to not leave it unattended. Hands coming up to card through his fingers, you kissed the shell of his ear, your sweat bodies desperately clinging around one another. “Megumi,” you mumbled sleepily, “Turn me.”

Megumi stilled above you. In a split second, your husband was off you, standing at the edge of the bed with all his muscles rigid and tense, eyes blaringly red as he hissed, “What did you say?”

“Have you not thought about it?” you winced as you sat up, the discomfort apparent upon feeling both your cum drip down your ass to your cheeks. “How you will remain the same after all these years, and I will die and wither like a wilted flower? I do not wish to part from you, Megumi. That was the vow we took in our wedding – that you’d be with me my whole life.”

“Until death do us part,” he reminded you, pointing at the wedding band that adorned both your fingers. “That was the vow.”

“So you won’t turn me?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“No. You only say this because you are blinded with love, but you will soon come to regret it once you become like me. A creature of the night, fearful of the light, taking life from others to preserve yours and unable to provide warmth to my beloved – why would you ever want to be like me?”

“Because it’s the only way I can be with you.”

“Are we not enough the way we are now?” Megumi ran his hands through his hair as he sat back down, his extended claws hastily pointing at the both of you. Even through the dim lights, you could see how his face had darkened. “I am happy, you are happy. We both love each other – what else could you want?”

You gritted your teeth at his words, picking up the pillow beside you before throwing it at him. “Stop being selfish!” you exclaimed, your husband’s eyes flushing a deep shade of rose when he glared at you. “Think about me! A few years from now, my body and face will sag to the point I am unrecognizable. I will no longer be beautiful in your eyes and soon I’ll even lose the strength to cross from our chambers to the washroom. Soon, I’ll be nothing but a drained human because we are weak, and what do you do? You’re just going to watch it all. You will let me get sick and die just because you refuse to live longer with me?” you repeated his words with a scoff, tears stinging your eyes when your voice dropped a tone lower, your arms wrapped around your chest as you rocked side to side. “Do you even love me?”

“Do not dare assume I do not. I waited for you for two hundred years.”

“That is exactly my point, you no longer need to wait for me if you’d just turn me!” you bit back, full on crying at this point with little to no regard that you would wake the whole neighborhood with your discord. “I want to be with you, Megumi, forever. I’ve lost you once and you lost me too, why would you want to put us both through that pain again?”

“Because the pain of losing you will never amount to the misery you would feel once you see that this is not a glorified life,” his gaze softened, his claws retracting until his hands reverted back into its normal ones. From where you sat, you could see your husband falter little by little, his tone turning tender. “I would rather see you die and lose you again than hate yourself because of what I’ve done, even if it was to fulfill your wishes.”

Silence coated the room. Only your heartbeat and his raspy breaths were the only things audible, and when you spoke, the sound of your heart shattering followed. “You would rather see me die? You would rather watch me slip away from your grasp?”

“Yes.”

The fact that he held no hesitance in them just told you everything you needed to know. You turned away from your husband, laughing bitterly. “That makes everything clear then,” you stood up and walked past him, not bothering to cover yourself up as you trudged to the washroom. “I guess I will just continue to please you until my human days are over. Not that it would bother you though, am I correct? You could always satisfy yourself with another body while I slumber for a few more years.”

“You will hate yourself if I turn you.”

“You not need worry about that, husband,” you told him, coming out of the room with a fresh towel and cleaned legs. Megumi still hadn’t moved a muscle from where he stood, his eyes now a longing shade of blue when you burrowed under the covers, back turned away from him. “I already hate you a lot more than I could ever feel for myself.”

ROSE [007.]

Your human body was weak. You get sick and Megumi refuses to heal you, and you died in despair that he didn’t even care about you. A plague had hit your city, and you fell victim to it. After months of being isolated in your quarters until you could no longer taste food or have enough energy to even drink a sip of water, you knew you had to accept your fate.

Megumi stood beside your bed, your hand almost as cold as his when he held it tenderly, regret pooling in his eyes at his refusal to heal you. You were still so young, so fragile – yet he could never bring himself to do it, even if it was your dying wish.

“Will you really not let me live a few more years with you, my love?”

“I am sorry,” he cried out, finally breaking down despite his insistence to stay strong and stoic for the both of you. If you had enough strength, you would’ve cried too; it was the first time you’ve seen Megumi lose himself this way, and he kept sobbing into the crooks of your palm, breaths stuttered and words broken. “I truly am. I cannot do it. Forgive me – forgive me.”

“Don’t cry,” you soothed weakly, thumbs brushing his tears away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to heal, my love. I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer.”

“I’m going to miss you,” he shook his head desperately, lips pressed against the weak heartbeat from your wrists as if that would magically heal you back to life. His words broke you a lot further because you both knew that maybe this is where you would end, and you couldn’t even spend that much time with him. A few months of marriage in comparison to the years he waited for you was simply unfair. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will miss you too,” you rasped out, “I hope in the next life we meet, I’ll get to stay with you a little longer,” Your breath wracked as your chest tightened, the virus making its way all voer your body and depleting you of everything you once had.

Though young still, your cheeks had hollowed, the light leaving your eyes as your lips flattened into a thin line.

You were inherently frail next to Megumi’s unwavering health and strength, and your smile was weak – forlorn – as you gazed up at him for the last time, trying to print his features deep into your soul.

“It feels like the world is always against us, don’t you think? If so, then maybe you and I are not meant to be as we thought.”

Megumi kept kissing your hands, kissing your tears away until you said your final goodbyes, your hand falling from his onto his lap. You couldn’t stay long enough to hear him pour his love out for you the same way he stood under the pouring rain, watching as the rose placed upon your tomb he likened you with wilt and wither.

Why was it that he could never be good to you?

First, he had caused your death, and now, he couldn’t even give you a proper one. You lived an unfulfilled life. There were still so many things you wanted to do, a multitude of places you wanted to go, and you wanted nothing more than to spend a little longer with him. Even as he walked away from your grave with his dying for what seemed like the hundredth time, Megumi still couldn’t find an answer when he asked himself, should he have fulfilled your wish?

CRIMSON [008.]

Along with arising modern human civilization and technological advancements, war was bound to come. People clashed with one another until humanity was abandoned, moral beliefs thrown to the side in replacement of exerting dominance over one another.

In a way, it soothed Megumi to know maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d completely lost touch to everything he once cared about; a little comforting that people had turned to monsters as well. But this thought vanished into thin air the moment gun powder and explosions covered the once blue sky, smoke choking the fresh air people once breathed and the battlefield painted red.

Megumi watched his comrades die one by one. He’d grown tired of hearing their last wishes and he cursed at his nature, because why couldn’t he just die?

He’d taken a hundred bullets and a thousand more beatings, yet he remained his stance, pushing through the enemy’s front line like a beast. At least here, he could unleash the monster he’d tried so hard to conceal. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was fighting for, Megumi had enough anger to overwhelm the opponent with his presence alone.

Blood splattered to his mouth, fuelling him to keep fighting and running, slashing at everyone’s throats with a flick of his sword, the growl leaving his chest entirely animalistic.

He should’ve focused more on his task instead of being blinded by rage.

Too lost in wanting to avenge his comrades, Megumi’s sharp senses failed to hear the oncoming grenade thrown his way. His eyes widened a fraction before he was thrown away, his ribs breaking and his skin splitting apart from the impact. Megumi choked out blood; he should’ve fed properly before he got drafted in the military, but he refused, denied his needs and drank animal blood to tame himself instead.

His self-righteous need to rebuff his true nature backfired, biting him on the ass this time around. He was half unconscious when he was lifted by the rest of his commanders who’d thrown him in the medical tents before taking off to war once more.

Megumi’s vision blurred. Everyone around him paced back and forth to tend to the other soldiers lucky enough to have been brought here for a second chance at life, their voices muffled and turning into nonsense. Megumi chuckled bitterly, which he shouldn’t have done because it made him cough up a lot more blood, but could he help it? He didn’t want a second chance at life. He had never seen you again, not even a whiff of your scent, and his heart and soul had reached a point beyond decomposition that he wished to have died on the battlefield instead.

His attention was diverted when warm hands that smelled like rubbing alchohol patted his face, a harsh beam of light shone down his eyes. He winced at the light before the object was taken away, worried eyes peering down at him instead.

Megumi’s gasp was frail, too weak to manage a proper greeting because the sounds of gunshots, explosions, and final screams surrounded both of you and it was the worst setting to find you in but he was relieved – beyond relieved to see that you were there, fixing him up and muttering something he couldn’t understand. You were adorned in the healer’s uniform, your touch nothing but gentle despite the sting of ointments on his wound.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Y-you,” he managed through splatters of coughed out blood, “I found you again.”

“Soldier, focus on me! You cannot die us on now, we are relying on you to save the world, do you understand?” you snapped at him, moving back and forth at such speed that put his supernatural abilities to shame. “Do not forget your duty. Think of your family, your friends, everyone you cared about waiting for you back at home while you fight honorably in this war,” you declared, the cold scissors cutting through his uniform somewhat distracting him from the sound of your voice. “You must think of them.”

“I don’t have anyone else,” Slowly, his consciousness slipped away from his fingers no matter how hard he tried, and he sighed when your furrowed brows became a lot blurrier and unfocussed. At least you were here, he reminded himself, a small smile on his face as he did so. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about is in here in this room with me right now.”

“Live, soldier,” you commanded, teeth snapping the thread as you hastily sewed him back up. He didn’t need it, but you didn’t know that, and he actually quite liked you fretting over him like this. “Live for the future, fight to live – live for me.”

Megumi had fallen unconscious, but your words planted itself deep at the back of his head. Your words were enough to revive him back to life hours later, and he scrambled at the edge of his seat, calling for your name and searching for you with frantic eyes. Living for you was something he could fulfill, so where were you?

Before he could glance at you one more time, you had already disappeared, and Megumi was shoved back into the battlefield.

SCARLET [009.]

The forest was dark and eerie as you ran through it, the pads of your feet chafed from tireless running and hands still sore from the burn. Countless women were forcefully ripped away from homes in your village at the assumptions anyone who didn’t dare bow down to the aristocrats were devil worshippers, and you were only lucky enough to get away, though barely.

At the back of your mind, you were still screaming as you fought against the binds while they burned you, the ends of your dress tattered and burnt.

The woman that saved you, you didn’t know your name, much less get the opportunity to thank you before she’d freed you, pushing you in the direction of the mountain you were taught to fear. Although that fear vanished as you kept pushing tree by tree, completely unaware that the higher you trudged onto the fearsome land, the atmosphere grew suffocating and too dark.

It didn’t matter now, this was your only place and chance of escaping.

Too dazed in your need to survive, you failed to notice the strong stench of blood, the rotting flesh and bones scattered everywhere upon the steps that led up the abandoned castle. It had been forever since the war that led to the fall of mankind’s chance of modernization, resulting in the world falling back into the ruins that you all had suffered before.

You were panting for air just as you’d reached a few feet before the eerie, looming gate. You had to clutch on a nearby tree to catch your breath, completely aware that you were insane for going to this place as a last resort for a safe haven even if you knew that people had told countless stories to children that a blood drinking monster resided within; whether it was a story told to prevent children from roaming around at night or it was actually true, you would just have to find out soon.

But you’d grown weak, body battered and bruised, stomach deprived of its nutrients and lips cracked from dehydration.

Your legs gave out before you until your body crashed onto the ground, no longer hearing the slight creaking of the gate.

SCARLET [010.]

There was something…wet and warm grazing over your skin, the sensation tickling enough that it stirred you from your slumber. With a groan, you cracked an eye open, all the muscles in your body  chilled when the man sat before you kept wiping at your wounds tenderly, his cold blue eyes sending shivers down your spine once he’d noticed you’ve woken up.

“You are free to stay here until you heal,” he announced, his voice deep yet gentle – nothing like the stories made him out to be. You opened your mouth to thank him – for the clothes that adorned you, the glass of water beside your bed, and for nursing you despite your apparent confusion – but the legendary vampire King himself had stood up, a bowl of water and a bloody towel clutched in his hand before he retreated to the door. 

Then, he paused at the doorframe, head barely tilted your way as he warned, “Do not leave the grounds unless you wish to die. I cannot guarantee I can save you one more time.”

SCARLET [011.]

Megumi was a mysterious person. He never stayed around much, and the castle was far too big for you to ever run into him. No matter how hard you tried to meet him out of want to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, you couldn’t find him.

He mostly left you to your devices. Every morning, you’d find fresh meat, a glass of water – sometimes warm milk – and a pair of his clothes that you’d have to make do with.

You’ve lost count of time of how long you’d stayed under the castle, still terribly confused as to why he hadn’t killed you yet, much less help you. One thing was for sure, however: the infamous King who painted the skies red for years out of bloodlust was not the monster people made you believe he was. After all, what predator cared for his prey this way?

You were beyond determined to show him your gratitude, not having anyone care for you this much your whole life. Growing up in the slums and taken as a child into pleasure houses, this type of privacy and freedom was more than welcomed – a freedom you wouldn’t have ever had had it not been for him. So you stood at the edge of your window every night, a slight bounce in your steps as you waited for him to show up. You rarely ever saw him, but there was no harm in trying, right?

The clouds shifted away, giving way to the moonlight that illuminated the tall figure speeding through the gates. He’d come from hunting his dinner.

With an excited squeal, you rushed past your room with a small towel, running all the way to the lobby to greet him. Your speed put his to shame when you sprinted his way, your excited form rendering the vampire shock still under the dusty chandeliers for a moment, his muscles tensing harder when you smiled up at him.

Your gaze fell down on the blood stains at the edges of his lips. His eyebrows were pinched together, about to ask what you needed when you stood at the tips of your toes, wiping away the blood with a towel.

As he spoke, his voice was gruff and hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t made a squeak of noise for centuries. “Human,” he began, a slight irritation underlying his words, though he made no move to push you away. “Are you not afraid of me?”

“Why would I be?” you queried with a lilting tone, “You saved me, after all. The vicious monster they painted you out to be is far kinder than anyone has ever treated me.”

His eyes darkened at your implications, preventing you from completely wiping the blood away from his face as he gripped your wrists. His claws were long and dark, undoubtedly able to kill you should he wished, but you didn’t fear him, not when he still held you like you were a fragile being. “So just because a devil saved your life, suddenly they are an angel in your eyes?”

“I do not care what you are,” you told him honestly, staring him straight in his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t fathom.  “I care not for what you’ve done or who you are supposed to be. All I know is that you are good to me – and why else should I care about anything else other than the fact I have never felt safer my whole life? Should this comfort be in the hands of a monster, I would not question it. I would only be grateful I met you.”

He didn’t speak for a moment, his grip only tightening a bit before one of his arms wound at the curve of your waist.

There was no telling who leaned in first. You were beyond lost in pleasure when he tugged you into his arms, his lips aggressively kissing yours. You groaned at tasting the animal blood still coated in his lips and tongue, but you didn’t care.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered in this world anymore as you jumped into his frame, his arms strong and effortless as he carried you into his room.

The night faded with you tangled underneath him, your clothes ripped and torn, thrown at the other side of the room while he situated himself between you. His hands were no less than zealous as he cupped and touched every curve and dip of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

You moaned when he cupped your drenched core, legs opening further as his thumb grazed over your clit. Whining at his slow teasing that contrasted with his previous needs, you sat up to kiss him harder, pushing his back with your feet to press him closer to you. Both of you groaned when his cock teased along your wet slit, just enough to give a promise of what was to come, but he held onto your hips, his kisses faltering as he panted. “Human,” he growled, “Human, stop. If we go any further, I cannot guarantee I can control myself.”

“Do I make you lose control, Your Majesty?”

“It’s been a long time,” he pulled away from you, all traces of his darkened lust replaced with nothing but softness in his gaze now. He held you there underneath him, his gaze nothing but appreciative as he drunk in your bare features.

It made your chest swell with pride to see him with fussed up hair and bruised lips like that, knowing that you were the only one who had triggered his undoing. “I am only getting back in touch with the restraint I’ve abandoned centuries ago.”

You kissed him once more, this time a lot more gentle and sensual. “Then we shall stop, Your Majesty,” he fell beside you, pulling you closer until your cheek rested above his cold chest. He had worn you out with just simple touches, and sleepiness washed over you like a blanket, mindlessly murmuring things as you traced patterns on his skin. “I wish you would stop avoiding me from now on,” you mumbled, “Sometimes…sometimes I see you in my dreams, and they feel so real,” he stiffened at your words, knowing full well what they meant. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”

Before he could speak, you’d already fallen asleep, leaving him with no other choice but to sigh and pull a blanket over your naked bodies. Pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, he made a silent promise to show you another time.

SCARLET [012.]

You and the King have grown more comfortable after the not-so-subtle declaration of each of your affections to one another. In your eyes, he was your savior and the man you adored most. In his eyes, you were his precious human, his long-awaited lover, and he’d run to hell and back just to be with you all over again.

But…things were different now.

He found it hard to be explicitly pinning you down his bed to let him ravage you. Memories of your past lives, his mistakes, and all his regrets never left him once in his hellish lifetime. Funny, he found it, that the moment you were gone, the moon refused to show itself, but every time you came after a moment of forever, he feels alive all over again.

“Join me? The water is quite warm tonight.”

He merely raised his brow, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you paddle into the water. There was no proper water supply in his castle, resorting to both of you retreating to the lake deep into the forest every night. This night was no different, but as always, he refused to bathe the same time you did in fear he might not be able to hold himself back. “I have no concept of what is warm and cold, human.”

“Would you like a demonstration then?”

He scoffed, smirking at the way you wiggled your brows. He would say he missed the vulnerable, frail human that always submitted to him, but that would be a lie, since he thoroughly enjoyed how you never shy in expressing your desire for him. “If this is your plan of getting me to touch you,” the King began to discard his clothes, his cock swelling at the way your eyes darkened as he unbuttoned each button of his shirt. “I cannot say I have complaints about it.”

You smiled, triumphant in your goals.

It doesn’t take him long to dive into the water with you, his tongue slipping past your lips while he hoisted your body up, cold hands cupping your ass. Bare like this, your nipples brushed across his chest in a mind-numbing sensation, and he doesn’t stop kissing you until his cock is nestled between your ass cheeks, allowing you to feel that he could be warm in just one place only.

“Mhm – Your Majesty,” you tugged at his hair, neck naturally falling to the side as you let him suck at your skin, his fangs coming out to graze at the sensitive flesh every now and then.

“Megumi,” he squeezed the flesh of your ass, “My name is Megumi. Call me nothing but my name,” you nodded absentmindedly, unable to focus on anything else other than his hands roaming each and every skin of your body despite him having already memorized it after loving for thousands of years. He only stops when you shudder in his arms, pulling away from you with a string of saliva attached to your lips. “You are shivering. And you said the water is warm.”

“You are cold, my love,” the nickname slips effortlessly from your lips that Megumi doesn’t even get the chance to be surprised, “I cannot help it.”

Megumi groaned into your mouth, testing the waters by fingering you under the water for a moment. You clamp around his fingers, begging him to finally touch you, and when you were so good and needy for him like that, how could he resist?

He carried you both and ran back to the castle, wasting no moment as he slipped inside you, both uncaring that his bed had been soaked wet. After living an impossibly life, Megumi learned it the hard way that being immortal didn’t mean he could do whatever he pleased. Time was still precious and gold even after an abundant amount of it, and forgive him for being impatient with the way he snapped his hips to yours for it had been forever.

Watching you fall apart under him, lips parted to let out pretty moans and your cunt still taking him in so well even after so many lifetimes, Megumi only falls for you harder than the last.

He interlaced his hands with yours once he saw you desperately grabbing for something, breasts bouncing at the inhumane speed he started. Megumi’s hips were brutal as it snapped to yours, your hips bruised and blue from his strong grip, fangs bare and eyes a blood red while he fucked deep into your cunt. You gasped as you clutched onto his bicep, toes curled at the sensation he was drowning you with.

“Megumi,” you cried out, eyes shut tight from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please – mark me. I wish to be no one else’s but yours.”

Megumi growled at your words, taking both of your legs and locking them to your side. The sudden stretch exerted on your muscles made you whimper as Megumi sat back on his thighs, watching the way his cock was sucked in by your slippery walls. “I will make you mine. You have always been mine long before you were aware of it,” he stated, forcing louder moans from you when he leaned forwards, bending your legs harder before he bit your shoulder.

Your nails scratched down his back, eyes blown wide open when you saw it, saw him. Megumi kept fucking until you were crying, face flushed and damp with tears.

The ceiling of his castle disappeared as the marking he gave you brought you back to a thousand years ago, playing in your head from your first kiss, to how he had drank you dry, all the way until your marriage and from accidentally leaving him during the war.

You were crying – both from the pleasure and pain that beat down on your heart – and Megumi lapped at the blood flowing from the wound, his tongue searing against the open flesh.

“Do you remember me now?”

“Megumi. Megumi, I’m sorry. You’d been alone all this time and I was not there with you. I am so sorry.”

“You are here with me now. It is fine, my love.”

This timed, you pulled him close enough that space and distance became nothing but a myth, lips desperately moving against one another. Megumi groaned into your mouth when you clamped down on him, prompting him to fuck you harder to reach both your highs. His thrusts soon grew sloppy and your cunt was past spent by the time he came inside, painting your walls white with thick ropes of cum.

Megumi remained inside you even as his cock softened, too comfortable inside your heat to want to be anywhere else. You sighed and kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, then his lips, almost worshipping his beauty and soul you’d fallen in love with over and over again.

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

You closed your eyes, the tears still salty on your cheeks when he kissed them away. The arms wrapped around him tightened for a moment, heart pounding in your chest as you relived your past life in that moment. “Megumi,” you whispered, “Grant me the wish you could never fulfill for me before. Please, I no longer want to live another lifetime without you.”

This time, Megumi no longer frowned upon your words, kissing you once more before he cradled your neck and jaw, those blue eyes softening like the cloudy skies you both danced under in your first lives.

“Forever, my love,” he promised, “I’ll be with you forever. Whatever it is you want, I would give it all to you.”

SCARLET [013.]

Your head rested on Megumi’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around you protectively. The halls of his castle were dark and the soft music was drowned by the screams of the angry mobs outside, their fists banging and guns blaring to tear the place down.

Time had passed and you came to understand why Megumi never wanted you to be like him. He was right – there was nothing to be glorified in becoming a monster despite the gift of immortality. This much you knew after slaughtering villages with him, feeding on parents and snatching away futures from children all to feed your thirst.

Both of you were painfully aware and burdened by the bane that was your existence, which is why you two kept dancing, not minding the fact that castle was slowly crumbling down.

You had accepted your fate. You had gotten your wish.

Megumi had lived millennia of forever’s with you that you were both satiated, happy, fulfilled. When the song hit a high note that the record broke and the chandelier fell, crashing a few feet away from you with its glass shards cutting both of your skins, you kissed Megumi one last time, his grip on your hips as gentle as ever.

The doors had opened.

Gasoline spilled from every corner of the castle, torches thrown and fire licking up everywhere. Gunshots were fired. Anger was vexed and thrown your way as you clutched onto your lover with salty tears on your cheeks, the roof falling completely open until the sun shone through. Both of you hissed through the kiss when it burned at your skin, hot and scorching enough that you just wanted to die in that moment. And you would, in just a few moments, you knew you would.

Megumi pulled away from you, his smile lopsided and sad as he pressed his forehead into yours, etching your features in his soul once more just in case he’d never see you again. “See you in the next forever, my love?”

“Only if you’ll keep waiting for me,” you grinned, and Megumi reached down to plant one last kiss onto your throne, reminding you that you were his lover, his soul mate, his Queen – his world and his everything else. Of course he’d wait for you. There was no need to ask him this – he would always wait for you.

“Of course I will,” he promised, “I will always wait for you.”

This time, you were wholeheartedly prepared for your death.

[ka-za-ri]

Press Play

It’s lunchtime somewhere. Have a sandwich. Pairing: Lucifer x Reader x Simeon Genre: PwP Smut Wordcount: ????     Tags: Smut, porn without plot, Demon sex, Angel Sex, Threesome, Toys, hand jobs, spit roasting, Sex Toys, Dom/Sub Undertones, sensory deprivation, temperature play, body worship, double penetration, size kink Summary: Lucifer and Simeon give you reason to look forward to movie nights with them.

Movie nights with Simeon and Lucifer became a rather regular occurrence once Simeon discovered just how large Lucifer’s backlog of unwatched movies had become. The angel made sure Lucifer set aside time once a week for at least one meet up. It took some persuasion, and a lot of pouting from both you and Simeon to get Lucifer to agree. The meetups started off innocent enough. Lots of cuddling and laughs were shared between bowls of popcorn as Lucifer slowly got caught up to date with the movies he missed due to his hectic schedule. It was a time for all three of you to relax, to enjoy each other's company and to forget about the stresses of the world outside. It was hard not to look forward to the movie nights especially after a week of study and corralling rowdy demon brothers. On that couch, you were safe between the two of them. There was no chaos, just a movie and their arms around your shoulders. From time to time, Lucifer would feed you from the shared bowl while Simeon offered you sips of his drink. It was pure, innocent and comforting. Until one day while were fully invested in the film and not paying attention to what they were up to, they slowly guided your hands to their crotches. By the time you noticed what they had done, they were already half hard and using your hands to stroke their lengths. “Oh, don’t look away, the best part is yet to come.” Lucifer said, making sure you focused on the flashing images in front of you instead of the growing bulges beside you. “Yes, you don’t want to miss this.” Simeon agreed, curling your hand around his shaft and encouraging you to stroke him. Lucifer mirrored the action and as the movie reached its climax, you realized you had a more interesting climax at hand, literally. It wasn’t until the credits started to roll when you were allowed to turn your attention to what the men had started. They leaned in, kissing you at the same time while your hands groped and stroked their lengths through their pants. Eventually Simeon won out, claiming your lips while Lucifer trailed his kisses elsewhere, down your jaw, to your neck where he greedily sucked at your pulse point. Their hands guided your own, showing you how they liked to be stroked and you were overwhelmed by the information overload trying to keep up with the differing paces they preferred. “Wait, Is this... alright? I mean, Simeon, you’re... an angel and all.” Simeon chuckled softly, kissing your cheek and nipping your ear. “Oh Little Lamb, how cute you are. Do you think a little sex is a crime punishable with a Fall? Humans are so gullible.” He rolled his hips into your hand encouraging you to keep going. “Why would the Heavenly Father find something natural a sin? There are crimes more serious than pleasure.” “Something like a rebellion?” Lucifer joked, squeezing your breast and he was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure when he pinched your pert nipple through your top. “Hmm Something like that, yes.” Simeon agreed and he let out a breathy moan when your fingers squeezed the tip of his cock harder than he had anticipated. “So, you shouldn’t worry about me, Little Lamb. You should be more concerned about how you’ll make us cum at the same time.” At the same time. You weren’t sure how you were going to manage the different tempos they demanded, and your arms were starting to get tired of the repetitive motions; but you were definitely interested in seeing them both come undone by your hands. Just touching them through their pants wasn’t enough. Almost as if they shared one mind, they had divested themselves of their pants and both of them were kneeling beside you, their cocks tantalizingly bobbing in front of your face as you went back to pleasing them with your hands. Without the barrier of clothes, it was much easier to pull a reaction out of them and they no longer needed to guide your hands into doing what they wanted. Simeon preferred a lighter touch and long, careful caresses while Lucifer loved it when you gripped him tightly to go hard and fast on his cock. Though their rhythms differed, they worked in tandem somehow with your hands and came at the same time after you fondled their balls and traced the heads of their sensitive, dripping cocks. Their seed, covered your face and your hands in thick, hot ropes as their dicks pulsed and they groaned in unison. “Your turn.” Lucifer declared, licking the mess on your face while Simeon cleaned off your hands. Once all trace of their loads were gone, they turned their hungry gazes to your own aching crotch and they parted your thighs as they settled between your legs. “I’m hungry.” Lucifer announced before delving into your soaked core. “Snacks weren’t enough.” Simeon agreed before letting his tongue join Lucifer’s and you writhed as they greedily lapped at your essence through your panties. When they couldn’t get enough of you, the soiled scrap of cloth was wrenched to the side unceremoniously and their tongues licked up your juices, probed at your entrance and circled your clit. The combined heat of their breaths and the lewd, wet sounds coming from between your legs brought you to climax much faster than you had anticipated. “So soon?”Simeon asked, his bright eyes held a fair bit of glee. He pulled away and you could see your essence glistening on his chin. “The credits haven’t even finished rolling.” Without any further preamble, he dove back in with Lucifer to continue their post movie snack until the credits and the extra post movie scenes were over. “So, same time same place next week?” Lucifer asked once silence fell over the room and you were reeling from your third orgasm that night. “Y-yeah... that sounds like a plan.” ~~ To say that you were eager for your ‘movie nights’ going forward was an understatement. It was the driving force that got you through the weeks. The thought of being between Simeon and Lucifer again occupied your mind and often you were caught daydreaming about what you could get up to in the upcoming meetups. You came to know their desires very quickly. Simeon was a tease. He loved watching you squirm and writhe under the lightest of touches. He was a romantic, full of kisses and cuddles once you were doing being used. The angel had a mischievous side to him, preferring to take slow, deep strokes inside of you, forcing you to feel the bulbous tip of his cock drag itself across your walls and memorize just how good his cock could make you feel. He loved you on your back, sprawled on the couch and disheveled, moaning for him as he took his sweet time fucking you. All the while Lucifer would occupy your mouth, muffling those pretty moans with his member. He adored seeing your throat bulge with the outline of his cock as he fucked your face. The way you would always gasp for air after he came down your throat was so erotic to him and never failed to get him going for another round, switching places with Simeon who would kiss your bruised lips so tenderly before encouraging your tired jaw to open up and accept his own length into it. Lucifer was a rougher lover. He pounded into you without abandon anytime he got the chance to sheath himself in your pussy. You always needed to nurse bruises during the week after he was done with you; not that you really minded. Shameful as it felt, you loved the feeling of his nails digging into your flesh, marking you and reminding you of the times you shared with the two of them. Different as they were, they were passionate lovers and never ceased to have you reeling in pleasure every week. While the movie played in the background, they found new ways to please and tease you until the very end of the film. With how long they had been alive for, they knew just how to play you like an instrument, drawing out your pleasure for as long as they wanted. Some nights, they would fuck you without abandon from the beginning to the end, other nights, they would pass you back and forth until you were ready to pass out and your pussy was filled with their seed. Yet other nights, the three of you would be stuffed full of your favorite toys, riding and grinding down on them, passing the remotes to the vibrators to one another and teasing each other until you all were over stimulated messes on that couch. Pretending to pay attention to the movie on the TV was difficult when you had two exceptionally attractive men moaning beside you and stroking their cocks in time with the hand held fucking machine thrusting in and out of your pussy until the three of you came at the same time and indulged in copious amounts of cuddles and kisses before deciding to do it all over again. Their methods of pleasure was as varied as the movies they chose and every week it was a surprise until you swore you had experienced it all with them. You had a good grasp on what they liked and pleasuring them came easily to you now. As soon as the door closed and the movie started, the three of you would spend at least the first ten minutes kissing each other deeply, fondling each other through clothing before everything inevitably came off by the time the first act was over. From there, you could almost predict what would happen depending on how the week had gone. Some weeks, Lucifer would have you and Simeon bound and kneeling before him, demanding that he be pleased first before he even thought about allowing either of you to think about pleasure. Other weeks, Simeon would have you tied down and spread on the couch so he and Lucifer could spend the whole film kissing every inch of your skin and counting how many times you could cum before the movie ended. You were more than happy to adapt to their whims, listening to them without question and following their lead. You thought knew them like your favorite movie. That comfort and routine had you falling into complacent lull which was how you ended up making the mistake of thinking nothing they did could surprise you anymore. ~~ You should have known better that there was something off when Lucifer lead you to a more private quarter that week than the room they used for your regular movie nights. You should have noticed how well padded those walls were, how the dim light illuminated everything. It should have been an indication of how that they had plotted this for some time now when Lucifer cast an extra strong spell of privacy over the room. It wasn’t until you heard the rustle of clothes and feathers that you realized what you were in for. Both of them were glorious and their massive wings seemed to encircle you in a cage once they both approached you sandwiching you between them. “A proposition.” Simeon started, tilting your chin up so you were forced to look into his eyes. “How about we make our own movie this week?” He glanced to the side and your gaze followed his. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the recording device set up on the dresser. You swallowed hard, unable to deny how much that thought turned you on, but also how much it intimated you. Being on camera, being recorded with such beautiful men felt wrong. “Oh, I know that look, Little lamb.” Simeon cooed, kissing your forehead softly. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Just follow our lead.” Behind you, you heard the rustle of clothing as Lucifer disrobed. He took your hand and brought you to the massive bed. You didn’t remember Simeon’s room being this spacious, nor the bed so large, but you didn’t have time to think about your whereabouts as your hands were tied above you to the headboard. Your legs were spread and tied to the posts at the foot of the bed. Once Lucifer was sure you weren’t going anywhere, he sat down next to you, his fingers brushed through your hair and his wings gently caressed your arms as he directed your attention to the angel in front of you. “Watch.” he commanded, and you could only obey. What followed was the most sinful strip tease. Simeon dropped the cloak he normally wore around his arms and let you drink in his angelic form. The white wings framed his body, keeping your eyes on him and only him as he traced all of his dips and curves through his skin tight clothes, peeling them off slowly, enticing you with every new inch of skin he revealed. You were practically drooling when his pants finally came off. You gasped when you saw his girthy cock and you shuddered, wondering if you could take something like that in you. Which suddenly brought the thought of Lucifer’s dick to the forefront of your mind. Glancing to the side, you took stock of his member and gulped at the monster between his legs. The demon chuckled, his fingers still stroking your hair gently and he leaned in for a soft kiss. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’ll be properly ready for us by the end of the night. For now, relax.” You nodded, but you were unable to take your thoughts away from the tapered tip of Simeon’s cock which gave way to a massive swell. You unconsciously clenched just imagining how wide he would stretch you out before you could get to the base. The swirling ridges and thick veins of his member were unlike anything you had seen before, at the base, you could make out a substantial ring of taught muscle you could only imagine being used to lock him into place once he was inside of you, similar to the hefty knot that sat at the base of Lucifer’s cock. “You’re thinking too much.” Simeon chided coming over to grace your lips with a soft kiss. “I promise you’re in good hands.” He reassured. Your body was still tense with intimidation, his words did little to alleviate the fear and he could see it in your eyes. Beside you, you heard Lucifer sigh and pad across the room looking for something. “I suppose we’ll have to find other ways to relax you.” He came back a moment later with a silken blindfold. Carefully draping it over your eyes, he made sure it was securely on before dipping down and kissing you deeply until you moaned into his mouth and were breathless. “Better.” There was a moment of silence between the three of you while the angel and the demon contemplated just how to relax you. Lucifer had been so excited to get you tied up, he had forgotten to take your clothes off and so the first step was working together to undress you, undoing the ties only when it was necessary to slip your clothes off. You visibly shivered when you were left bare in front of them, in front of that camera. “Better.” Simeon finally agreed now that all three of you were in a similar state of undress. You heard a soft popping sound followed by a sharp gasp from Simeon. You heard it again but this time followed by a quiet grunt from Lucifer. Confused, shook your head back and forth, trying to figure out what had happened. Your confusion stopped when you felt the softest tickle of a feather caress your skin. There was the sound of wings flapping as they adjusted to fit you in a feathered cage. “Did you know....” Lucifer drawled, dragging his feather across your skin and watched as you twitched under the light touches.  “You’re absolutely adorable when you’re at our mercy?” “You are.” Simeon agreed, teasing your spread pussy with the tip of his feather. “You’re so cute when you’re an incoherent mess for us. I can’t help but look forward to seeing what kind of faces you can make tonight when our cocks make you scream.” You shivered, struggling against your bindings but to no avail. The knots held tight and you were helpless. You could only focus on the tingling sensation that followed in the wake of their teasing. The feathers felt different from each other. The one Lucifer dragged across your body to tease your nipples left a trail of warmth, like a soothing touch on heated skin after being spanked. The tip of the feather prodded your nipples until they were aching and sore, the heat intensifying until it was almost unbearable. As soon as it got too much, he would move to your other breast, repeating the process in a cycle that had your mind reeling. Simeon’s lips were practically attached to your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there while his feather toyed your pussy. The cool, tingling sensation spread across your nether lips and down your thighs as he drew errant patterns across your skin, watching in awe as goosebumps appeared in the wake of his feather. Your clit was toyed with until it was almost numb, your essence coating the feather, soaking it as he continued to toy with your body. Then, they switched. The heat moved to your core and the chill traveled up your abdomen to tease your nipples. The drastic change in temperatures had you wailing and thrashing as the heat from Lucifer’s feather felt like a brand against your sensitive core. The cold on your nipples made them pucker and stand painfully erect. “Adorable.” Simeon cooed, admiring how you heaved and writhed under him. He reached to the bedside drawer and picked up one of the candles that had been illuminating the room. carefully hovering it over your chest, he watched with glee as the hot wax dripped from the candle and splattered against your skin, welting the skin and making you cry. You were too hot and too cold at the same time. The assault of sensations made your mind go blank and all you could focus on was feeling good, sounding good and letting them play with your body to draw out every sensation they could from you. They weren’t done yet, far from it. While Simeon focused on wax dribbling down your chest and carefully let hot droplets tease your oversensitive nipples, Lucifer had reached to the ice bucket which housed a bottle of wine. Finding a suitably small piece of ice, he dragged it across your thighs after his feather, making you shiver and moan. Pausing at the apex of your thighs for a moment, he let you catch your breath before sliding the melting ice into your waiting hole. His finger pulled back the fleshy hood of your clit and he pressed the feather directly against the bundle of nerves, rubbing it roughly, coating it with your essence and overwhelming you with heat and cold at the same time. “You can cum when the ice is melted.” He stated, assaulting your clit with the feather. His teeth found your collarbone and he bit down, hard, kissing your skin after he left his mark. Watching you come undone from their combined efforts was nothing short of a treat. The chill of ice within you faded as your own body heat melted the cold object. It felt like it took eons to do as Lucifer asked, but as soon as you no longer felt the ice in you, your whole body shuddered in completion, your inner walls collapsed clenching around nothing and your clit throbbed almost painfully as you rode out the waves of pleasure from your intense climax. Both the angel and the demon descended on your lips when you came, kissing you deeply thrusting their tongues into your mouth, moaning as they drank in the sounds of your orgasm. The blindfold was ripped off your face and you blinked to adjust your eyes to the light once more. They kissed you until you were breathless, tired and dizzy, but the night had only begun. You knew matter how tired you were, the two of them would push you past whatever limits you had until they too were satisfied. “There, nice and relaxed.” Simeon purred, carefully peeling off the dried wax from your skin and admiring the patterns it had left across your chest. He dipped between your breasts, pressing soft kisses on the tender skin while you were still wrapped in the afterglow of your climax. The ties that held your arms and legs were undone and Lucifer cradled you in his lap, fondling your tender breasts. Your limbs slowly regained feeling and your bleary vision cleared just in time to witness Simeon in front of you, stroking his length, eyeing your drenched pussy, licking his lips and dreaming of the moment when the two of you would become one. “I know you probably don’t feel ready, but I know you want this...” He leaned in to kiss you. Lucifer moved his legs to lock with your own, and spread you open for the angel. “I’ll make sure to go slow so you can feel... everything.” With one last reassuring kiss, he pressed the tips of his cock to your entrance, hissing from the residual cold from the melted ice. Your canal warmed up soon enough as you could immediately feel the swell of his cock push into you. There was no time to adjust, his shaft was nothing but a series of thick bulbous ridges that only got wider until it tapered off just a bit at the base where the muscular ring sat. You were stretched wider and wider with every inch, losing your breath at the sensation of taking Simeon in this form. “There, now. You’re doing so well.” Lucifer praised, pinching your nipples to keep you conscious of the current moment. “Look at that, he’s almost all the way in.” Lucifer guided your gaze down between your legs and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that he was correct. There was maybe an inch or two left before he would be fully seated in you. You took a deep breath and allowed the angel to make the final push to sheath himself within your walls. Simeon let out a low groan, nipping at your shoulder and he held you close to take in the sensation of being surrounded by you. “You’re so hot.” He whined, “So tight, so perfect...” He grunted, rolling his hips into you and your body shuddered at how deep he was able to reach. You let out a breathless whine grasping at the sheets below you, reeling at the sensation. “I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it.” Lucifer praised, trailing kissed down your neck. He glanced over at Simeon and gave the angel an imperceptible nod, egging the angel to move more. Simeon didn’t need any more encouragement, slowly sliding his length in and out of you as he was wont to do. He never fully pulled out of you, just far enough to the widest point of his cock before sliding back inside of your snug, tight walls. The ebb and flow of being stretched and relaxed had you mesmerized and before you knew it, you could feel your climax approaching. He could feel your walls fluttering in anticipation of the end and that was when he stopped moving all together. You were left hanging just at the precipice and you could see the excitement in Simeon’s eyes as he too was enjoying the moment; but you couldn’t forget about the demon behind you. “I hope you’re ready for me too...” He murmured softly and for a moment you were confused about what his words meant. The meaning became crystal clear when the hard tip of his cock pushed against your already stuffed hole, seeking entrance to a space that was quite full already. You gasped, squirming away from him but there was no winning against his inhuman strength. “N-no... it won’t fit , It’s too much.” You protested Lucifer dragged his length up and down your soaked lips, coating his cock in your essence before pressing against your hole once again to join Simeon. He let out a low, dark chuckle. “Breathe, my sweet, trust us.” He reassured. “Just imagine how good and tight you’ll feel when we’re both all the way in you. That ridge of his and my knot buried inside, stretching you out, claiming you.” You could see the image in your mind, but feeling it was something else entirely. You were already at your limit, or so you thought. But Lucifer was persistent and with some coaxing, the tip of Lucifer’s cock eventually slid inside beside Simeon’s. Whatever limits you had were going to be tested now. Somehow, against the pain and the stretch you felt, you could feel your muscles clench, tightening against the new intrusion, accepting him, drawing him further into you. “That’s my Little Lamb.” Simeon praised, kissing you and distracting you from whatever pain your abused hole was feeling. “That’s it, take us all in.” Your mouth hung open in a soundless scream as Lucifer’s cock drove itself further and further inside of you. The long shaft going deep within, brushing against your cervix when he finally reached the base of his knot. “Amazing.” he breathed, marveling at the tightness of being together with you along with Simeon. “Simply amazing.” And then, they started to move within you. Their motions were perfectly synced making you see stars and the heavens beyond them. You clung onto Simeon, though your arms had long lost feeling. At this point, you only served to be a fuck toy for the two of them, something to be used for their carnal pleasures and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The way their cocks worked in tandem sliding in and out of your hole had you cumming almost immediately. But, they weren’t anywhere near done with you. Not until they claimed you and truly made your theirs. They went faster, deeper, harder until you couldn’t see straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with grunts and moans filled the room along with the sticky sweet smell of sex. “Oh, oh God!” You screamed when they slammed you down to the base of their cocks at the same time. “God is not here making you moan.” Simeon growled, digging his fingers into the supple flesh of your ass and gripping it hard, spreading your cheeks out to gain more access to your pussy. “There is no God here, just us.” Lucifer bit your neck hard, leaving deep teeth marks in his wake, nearly drawing blood. He seethed at the Heavenly Father’s name and it only fueled his need to claim you. “If you’re going to call out a name, why don’t you make sure it’s mine.” he commanded, forgoing any decorum and roughly thrusting into you, ignoring whatever semblance of rhythm he had with Simeon earlier. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes, your voice hoarse from screaming and your body sore from the abuse it was taking. They made you feel like a sinner and a saint all at once, the mix of pain and pleasure too much for your mind to bear and eventually all thoughts faded to the background until there was nothing but euphoria. Your head lolled back, resting against Lucifer’s chest and you blearily looked up at the ceiling as you accepted your fate between these two men. They were nearing their own climaxes. Seeing you lose yourself in the throes of passion drove them to the edge they sought and your body reached its final trial. Their thrusting slowed as they pushed you down on the hard knot and thick ridge of their cocks. You couldn’t remember screaming, but you did remember thinking you were being torn in half. You clawed at Simeon’s back, drawing blood from scratching him so deeply. The angel hissed, his long lashes fluttering as he softly encouraged you to accept them, all of them. And then, there was pure bliss when you felt them securely embedded within you. It was a feeling of fullness, of contentment you had never felt before. It felt as if your very soul had ascended at that moment. With one final grunt from Lucifer and a breathy moan from Simeon, they released their loads into you at the same time. The copious amounts of their seed flooding your insides, causing your belly to swell as  you accepted their offering to you. The hot, sticky ropes of cum leaked from your pussy as they seemed to pump into you ceaselessly. You thought this surely must have been what paradise felt like as you yourself came around them one last time. As you felt your consciousness drifting away from you from your final climax. You remembered being gently lowered to the bed while both the angel and the demon were still inside of you. Their cocks were still hard and pulsing cum into you at intervals.  “You did so well, Little Lamb.” Lucifer murmured, using the pet name Simeon often used for you. “You deserve some rest.” “Yes, rest, my Sweet.” Simeon encouraged, pressing kisses on your forehead and your cheeks. “You were perfect.” “So... Does this mean same time, same place next week?” You asked tiredly. “I don’t mind shooting a sequel.” Simeon agreed wholeheartedly. “Why just a sequel? We could make it a proper... trilogy.” Lucifer chimed in, holding you close and wrapping his wings around you. Simeon followed suit and that night, you dreamed of what sort of blockbuster the three of you could come up with.

[clearlydiamondz]

New Partners

Erik Stevens x Black!Reader

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

(Y/N) and Erik are partnered up on a mission. After getting stuck together, things get a little heated between the two.

Warning: Cursing, SMUT, 18+ Content, Semi Fight Scene, mention of infertility, self harm

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

(Y/N) looked around the table with men as she rolled her eyes. So many men sitting here with their pride so far up their ass, it was showing in their face. She knew they had a problem with her being here, but it was more that just that. She was one of the best assassins this organization had to offer. They were intimidated by that. Who wouldn’t be. 

You were on of the girls that escaped the Red Room. That’s right. You were a black widow, trained along side the infamous Natalia Romanova. Better known as Natasha Romanoff. After loosing you’re home from S.H.I.E.L.D, you joined this organization. Just one thing threw it off. You were the only women here. Even though you irked something in their head, they couldn’t help but find you sexy. The only person in here who’s never given her a hard time was Erik. 

Erik was to himself. He didn’t speak to no one unless it was call for for a mission. He was just to himself.

“Good morning everyone.” Your boss Ricky came in as you put your phone away. “I’m going to keep this meeting short and simple. We heard a big deal going around the streets that some of the alien space craft parts from the attack on New York in 2012 is floating around the black market. We will be attending a bidding so that we can get those parts in our hands. Each of you guys here have been handpicked by me because you are  one of the best that we have here.” he said. 

After going her case file, she saw that was playing the role of Isabella Hardaway.  The wife of Simone Hardaway. She looked at all the information that was given to her. 

After the meeting, she was walking to her office when she felt someone tap her shoulders. She turned around seeing Erik standing there with his arms cross. It looked as if she just came back from a mission considering he had all of his tactical gear on. 

“I am going under as Simone Hardaway. Meet me at my office to discuss details before you go on lunch..” Was all he said before stepping away. She turned around walking back to her office and shutting the door. 

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

Before her lunch break, she walked to Erik's office knocking on the door. She heard a come in before walking into his office. The first thing she noticed was the interior of it. Everything was black and gold. It smelled good in her, kind of like Pine Cone. And he had a lot of Wakandian artifacts. The only reason she knew about it was because back in the red room she would read all types of articles and books about Wakanda. 

“You have a very nice office..” she trailed off. 

“Let’s just talk about the mission, yeah?” he said. She nodded. 

“Sure.”

Erik was a cutie. She was always attracted to the guys who didn't say much. Due to some research, she knew it was always the niggas that didn't talk a lot knew had to handle business.

And there was nothing more than she wanted for him to handle her...

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

(Y/N) rode the elevator back to the quarters that same night. It was time for them to start the plan and she was only a couple of  minutes late. As the doors opened, she walked into the building and instantly everyone's eyes were on her.

She ignored their stares as she went to the tactic room grabbing the gear that she needed. As she was signing out her equipment, Erik came beside her leaning against the wall. 

“You’re late.” he simply said as she looked up at him giving him a fake smile. She closed booklet before looking at him standing up fully. 

“Sorry but I have to look the part of a billionaire.” she said then looked at herself. “It just doesn’t happen sweet heart.” she finished before walking out the room. Erik turned around as she walked past him, looking at her backside as she walked outside the door.  

There was no hesitation that Erik wanted to have his way with her. She was fine, smart and witty. She’s been working here a little over two years now and this was the first time he could actually talk to her. Even the first time on a mission. 

They received their instructions sitting in the back of the limo, riding to the place where they were doing the bidding at. (Y/N) was looking over the notes she had tucked into her clutch before Erik spoke up. 

“You shouldn’t hide the notes in your hand bag.” he said in a suggestive tone as she looked at him. 

“I’m not. I just bring it with me so that I could go over everything before the mission.” she said folding it and tucking it under the seat. He shook his head chuckling. She looked at him raising an eyebrow. “Oh wow.. he actually laughs. Someone record this.” she said shaking her head.

“Anyways...” he trailed off turning around and looking at him. “There are somethings that you need to know about this place. It’s heavenly guarded. Metal detectors everywhere. So.. those weapons you have is useless.” he said. 

“Yeah I figured that out. But that’s why I have this.” she pulled her dress up to see a knife strapped to her thigh. Erik wasn’t really focused on the knife, more of how full her thighs looked. Damn, he wouldn’t mind being in between those thighs and getting lost. She pulled it back down, Erik not making it noticeable that he wasn’t paying attention at all. 

“A knife. You are going up against a bunch of men with guns... and your defense is a knife?” he asked pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh.. you have a lot to learn my friend.” 

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

They inserted the hall, their arms linked with each other. “Their holding the parts on the 5th floor but it’s heavily guarded.” They heard in their coms. 

“We need to make our presence known a little bit, then we can sneak off.” she told him as he nodded.

“Ah, you must be  Simone and Isabella, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” An Italian man walked up to them. Erik reached his hand out for him to shake.

"Ah, you must be Giovanni." Erik said to him as (Y/N) shook his hand.

"Oh wow, you're even beautiful in person." he winked at her. Deep inside, she was disgusted. But she had to play along with the roll.

"Oh stop, you're making me blush." she playfully said as he smirked at her.

"Well the bidding is going to start an hour so make yourselves comfortable." he said. They were left alone as Erik whispered in her ear.

"We need to get back there before they start bidding." he said as she nodded.

"I memorized the floor plan of the place. There is a hallway on the left side of the building behind the bar. It should direct us back there." she said. They saw the entrance was blocked by two guards standing there with AK-47s.

"Yeah, but those big ass niggas standing in the way." he said as she smirked at him.

"Well, all we need is a distraction." she said to him as he leaned back in the chair. "What do you mean you have a plan?"

"Just follow my lead..."

- - - - - - - -

She walked to Fabian tapping his shoulder. He turned around about to snap until he saw who it was. "Oh, Mrs. Hardaway. Is everything alright?" he asked placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Actually, one of your guests here have been incredibly rude to me. A-And it's just making me and my husband a bit uncomfortable and I really just don't appreciate it." she said shaking her head.

"Who!?"

She pointed in the direction where a man by the name of Rodney stood. She knew who he was. Rodney was one of the dudes that ran a drug ring on the West Coast near Compton. He was a hot head that didn't mind popping off on anyone at any minute.

Mixed with Giovanni, who didn't think with his head but his fist. If this was going to be a distraction, she didn't know what was.

"Aye, what the fuck Rodney!" Giovanni yelled walking over to him. "Why the fuck you're being a bitch!?" he exclaimed as Rodney eyes went wide with pure anger.

"Nigga who the fuck are you calling a bitch, bitch."

And they fell right into place. The two guards standing at the door ran to the commotion as Erik walked calmly to the back door. She followed as they ran down the hallway.

"See, easy work." she said to him as he shook his head.

"No you're just lucky that the two of them don't know how to control their emotions." she responded as she shrugged.

"Same thing." He followed her as the posted behind a wall. She turned her head to see more guards standing at the entrances. She turned to look at Erik putting up five fingers to tell him that there were five guards.

She dug into her purse grabbing the penny electricity lock before turning around smirking at Erik. She flipped it around the corner before she heard the groans.

"Yo.. you're fucking crazy." he shook his head as she smirked.

"Okay, well look where it got us." she said walking down the hall. She picked up the guns only to see that they were digitally activated. "What kind of..." she whispered looking at this.

"Yeah we can't use these." Erik said looking over her shoulder.

"Whelp the only form of weaponry is my knife so let's get this thing rolling." They grabbed the key card opening the door letting themselves inside. Erik shut the metal door before he walked in shutting the metal doors.

"I have a feeling that Ricky only sent me on this mission for the if it goes wrong because it seems like you got this figured out." Erik said leaning against the table. She dug into her purse grabbing a pair of tweezers before she chuckled. "

"I've seen you're record file, you have some pretty impressive stunt work under your feet." she said as he tilted his head to the side.

"So you stalked me?"

"No, I was just making sure that Ricky didn't put me with an idiot. And he has not." she said cutting the wires to the safe. She heard the air exit the safe before Erik opened the safe. He grabbed the piece as (Y/N) looked at it.

"That's it? It literally just looks like scrap metal." she said as he nodded.

"Well, this is what we need so-"

"Hands up!" Both of them turned around to see a guard standing at the door. "Put it down and step away from the safe." he said as she looked at Erik. He placed it on the ground before the guard walked further inside.

"Alright, lift your dress up."

"Nigga what the fuck?'

"Excuse me?"

"I'm the one with gun here, lift it up." he said as she nodded.

"You don't have to do this? I mean-"

"Shut up! Lift it." she nodded, faking pouting. She lifted up her dress before grabbing the knife aiming it at his arm than throwing it making him drop the gun.

"What the-" Erik punched him the nose the nose before flipping him on his back, grabbing his arm and bending it before she heard a crack. Before he could scream, Erik punched him again in the face as his eyes went shut and he laid limped on the floor. She grabbed the wreckage before smiling at him.

"A bunch of men with guns.. and you bring a knife?" she mocked him as he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah.. okay. You can handle yourself. I like that." he said licking his lips as she raised her eyebrows.

"Don't look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like that. You lookin at me with some, 'I wanna fuck you' eyes." she said as he smirked.

"Maybe I do."

"Boy bye. You wouldn't know what to do with all this even if it came with instructions. Now come on." she said walking out with a sway in her hips.

"Damn..."

- - - - - - - - -

They were outside walking to the limo when the agent on the phone started talking. "Change of plans you guys. They found that there has been a breach with the stuff. So you guys have to stay in character. We guys got you a hotel downtown." they heard as Erik mumbled a 'shit'.

"Well let's get out of here before they think of something?" he said, she agreeing. They got into the car before the limo driver pulled off.

They made it to the five star hotel and settled into their rooms before she sighed. "We don't even have clothes." she groaned as he shrugged.

"I sleep naked anyways." he said walking into the bathroom. 

“By the way, they have the room wired just in case something goes left!” she yelled out for him but he didn’t hear her. She smacked her teeth before taking off her shoes. I mean she did too, but sleeping next to him. She wasn't going to lie, she was a bit intimidated by him. But oh well. 

As she waited for him to get out the shower, she went through some paperwork she bought with her before she stripped from her gown laying it on the sofa that was in the living room. She grabbed a whiskey glass from the bar before pouring herself a glass of crown royal that Erik purchased. She drink a little more before she felt herself have a little buzz. 

  She had a wet rag wiping the make up off when he stepped out of the bathroom. She didn’t even notice the shower stopped running. He had the tower wrapped around his waist before looking her up and down. She noticed the scars that sat over his body. 

Damn that shit looked sexy... 

He wasn’t hiding that he was checking her out. His eyes traced over her frame. His tongue traced his bottom lip as he looked up at her. He looked further down noticing the scar above her abdomen. 

“What happened to you?” They both said at the same time.

“I said it first.” she said quickly, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Do you want the simple version or the extended version.” he said crossing his arms over his chest. “Extended version?”

“It’s just something that I did to myself to remind me how many people I killed. You know, never make me loose sight of who I really am. Also to remind myself of what I can become.” he responded honestly. 

“You did that to yourself?” she asked, shocked. He nodded. “And you call me crazy...” she said as he chuckled. 

“And you?”

“Do you want the simple version or the extended version?” she asked him. 

“Extended.” 

“So, I grew up in the program called the red room.” she started. 

“Oh yeah. I heard about that shit. That’s why you’re so good at what you do.. huh?” he said as she nodded. 

“Yeah, well anyways. At your graduation ceremony, we had this procedure done. They told us it was just tying tubes so you don’t mess up and get pregnant. But turns out, they took... everything.”

“Ohh...” he trailed off. “That’s-”

“Yeah, It sucks. I want my life to be more than just this. I want to have a kid one day but that’s never going to happen so.. yeah.” she responded.  

“Damn, I’m so sorry.” She didn’t want to end so awkwardly, so she used a little bit of her dark humor. Something she did to avoid having to dig into her feelings.

“But on the bright side, I don’t have periods. The sex is amazing, well depending on the person I’m fucking.” she responded as he squinted his eyes. 

“Why you say that?”

“Well, if their clean, I don’t need protection. And sex is best when it’s raw.” she winked at him.  His eyebrows raised with a sense of caution. He didn’t know if that was a sign or something, but he took it as one.

“Well, I need to get going into the shower.” she walked passed him, walking into the bathroom before turning around and shutting the door. Apart of her wished that he would turn around and follow her inside but she knew he would never do that.

She stripped naked before turning the water to a comfortable temperature. After that, she stepped in letting the water drip down her skin. The water pressure in the shower was no joke.

While she was in her own little world, lathering her body up, she didn’t even notice that Erik came into the bathroom with her. He took the towel off placing it on the sink before putting his hands on the glass. She still didn’t notice that he was in the bathroom with her. Erik wanted that.

He slid the door open, (Y/N) turning around in shock to see him standing there. Dick standing tall and him breathing hard. (Y/N) was stuck. Here he is, one of the sexiest man she has ever laid eyes on, is butt naked in the shower with her. Something took over her as she wrapped her tiny hands around his dick slowly stroking it up and down.

“You want this dick, (Y/N)?” Oh his voice was deep deep. “Once I start I ain’t going back. I plan on ruin your little ass.” he said as she looked up at him.

“That’s what I want..” she whispered to him. She leaned forward placing a kiss in his chest before making her way down, placing kisses all the way until she was face to face with the monster.

His dick was just as beautiful as him. Long and thick, a vein very noticeable and his tip leaking out with ore cum. “You want this pussy?” she asked him, putting her hand down there rubbing her clit in a circular motion. “She stay wet and ready to take some big dick like this..” she whispered kissing along his dick. He clenched his jaw as he leaned against the shower wall.

“Keep talking like that. Watch me fuck that mouth of yours.” he warned her as she smirked. She wrapped lips around the tip, swirling her tongue around it collect all of the syrup he had to offer. Sweet but tangy. She liked it.

She slowly made her way down his dick as he closed his eyes throwing his head back. “Yeah... you know what you doin. Show me what ya little freaky ass got.” he said to her. She wrapped her other hand around the base stroke it as she sucked him properly. It was nice and slow. For her sake, this man was big. Way too big to fit in her mouth. She don’t even know how she managed to get this much of him.

“You’re so big Erik.. you sure it’s gonna fit in this tight ass pussy?” she asked him as he chuckled.

“You should be asking yourself that question. I’m digging in that shit no matter-ooh.” his sentence was cut short when she started to stroke him faster while sucking his dick. “Show off then. Little nasty bitch, I love me a nasty bitch. Play with that pussy. I want the shit dripping down my chin when I eat that shit you hear me?” he said as she nodded.

“Yes sir.” Oh that made his dick jump. She noticed the little peak of excitement before smirking to herself. She focused her attention on his dick before letting him fuck her mouth. Her hands were on the floor as he grabbed her hair keeping her still as he attacked her throat.

“Fuck! Your shit is dangerous ma!” With a final thrust, he came all down her throat. It came out of no where and she coughed. She wasn’t no bitch though and swallows it.

“Swallow all that shit.” he directed her. He saw her swallow it before smirking. “Stick ya tongue out.” she stuck her tongue out before he grabbed her by the throat pulling her to her foot. Within a split second, he had his tongue down her throat. He sucked on her tongue, tongue gliding along each other as she moaned.

“I know, I’m finna play in that pussy right now. I know she’s wet.” (Y/N) stuck her tongue out once more as he looked at her confused until it finally hit him.

This is just one nasty bitch... yeah he definitely keeping up with this one.

He spat in her mouth as she smiled bringing him into a soul crushing kiss. “Go put your leg on the counter, I’m hungry and I want some of that pussy.” he told her as she smiled in content. She opened the glass door before stepping out. He followed her to the counter as she placed her leg on the counter stretching out. He walked behind her wrapping his arms around her waist. She felt his hard dick rubbing against her thighs as she leaned back against him. With his other hand, he rubbed her ass then giving it a slap.

She gasped then moaned as he smirked at you. "You like that, don't you?" he said as she nodded. His fingers traced around further before he was rubbing her clit from the back.

"You got this wet just by sucking my dick?" he asked her a she nodded.

"Yes.. I love sucking dick." she told him as he smirked.

"Yeah, slutty ass." Unexpectedly, he dipped his finger in her pussy as she gasped. Damn this nigga have some thick ass fingers.

"Shit you tight.. you sure she can take all this dick." he said rubbing his dick against her ass as she nodded.

"Yes I can take it- ooh." she moaned closing her eyes throwing her head back. He curved his finger hitting her G-Spot as she moaned.

"Fuck daddy, Right there. Shit!" she gasped out as he kissed her shoulder. His pace went faster as she felt a pressure in her abdomen. "I'm going to cum.." she whispered.

"Yeah, let me get that." he said as she smirked. A couple of seconds later, she came all over his fingers. He kept going like nothing ever happened. She was overly sensitive, and he could tell bu the slight shake she had.

"Fuck... Erik wait." she gasped as he shook his head laughing.

"Nah, all that fucking teasing you did. Keep your leg up. Don't fucking move." He bent down gliding his tongue along her folds as she fluttered her eyes shut.

Erik moaned as her wetness dripped down to his tongue. He thought it was damn near impossible for someone to be this wet but here she is like a faucet. He stood up as she placed her foot on the ground. He turned her around lifting her up and sitting her on the counter. She bit her lip looking at him as he shook his head.

"It doesn't make any fucking sense how wet this pussy is.." he said to her. He grabbed his dick rubbing his tip along the fold as he sighed in pleasure.

"Stop teasing me.."

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do." he grunted at her. He teased her a bit more before entering his slowly.

"Fuck..." she whispered out as he stretched her out. "Fuck you're filling me up."

Erik on the other hand went silent. He was in complete shock about this. He slowly started to thrust as she gripped the counter top for support.

"Good ass pussy, this my shit here. You understand?" he said as she nodded.

"Yes.. oh my god." she groaned. She put her hands between their bodies, rubbing her clit in circular motions. "Faster please." she moaned a nodded. He started to fuck her faster, the sounds bouncing off the bathroom walls.

"Fuck..."he groaned picking her up. He walked out into the room, pushing her against the wall, thrusting faster into her. She let out a loud scream before he kissed her to muffle the noise.

"Fuck baby... you beating my shit up."

"Like I'm suppose to. You hear her, making all that fucking noise." he said a she nodded.

"Talk to me."

"Yes, I hear her!" she moaned.

"Yeah, she like that shit. Slutty ass pussy.." he grunted. She bit his shoulder in attempt to keep her from screaming.

"I-I think I'm about to cum." she whispered as he smiled. "Let me feel that shit." With a tight squeeze, she released all on him as she hit her head against the wall.

"FUCK!" she groaned. Her body shook once more as he carried her to the bed. He flipped her on her stomach before arching her back.

"We not done.. far from it." he said. Without warning, he thrusted fully into her, thrusting into her at a fast pace. She bit the sheet as she moaned. Tears rolled down her eyes as she let the pleasure overwhelm her.

"What happened to me not being able to handle yo ass? What was that shit you was talking?" he taunted her. Now it was her turn to be stuck. He grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her back to his chest. He laid his chin on her shoulder whispering in her ear. "Answer me when I'm talking to you? You got some good dick and now you can't talk?"

"Baby.. please." she whispered as he smiled at her. Oh that shit was wicked.

"Baby please what? I can already feel that pussy tugging on my shit. You about to cum again?"

"YES!" she screamed as he smacked her ass. "Stay just like that while I bust this nut all in your guts bitch." he grunted letting go of her hair. The pressure came quick again, and within a couple of seconds she squirting all over him and the bed. She lost balance falling into the bed with him following her.

It triggered his own orgasm as he let his cum drip deep inside of her. "Fuck!" he grunted out as she spasmed a bit feeling it.

"We ain't done..." he whispered to her as she groaned.

- - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, in the control room, the entire team was in shock. At first they were confused.

"It's silent, why can't we hear them?" Ricky said as one of the tech geeks, James, started typing away.

"Everything seem to be connected. We don't know. We can hear the shower running..." he said as Ricky stood up biting his nail.

"Maybe we should-"

"Fuck daddy, Right there. Shit!" They heard that shit loud and clear.

"Uhhh...." James awkwardly said. It was silent for a few moments before the heard smacking noises. That's when they heard a loud scream.

"Fuck baby... you beating my shit up."

"Like I'm suppose to. You hear her, making all that fucking noise."

"Should we turn it off?" James said about to push the mute button.

"Just put them on low. We can't risk not hearing anything if something happens." Ricky said, his face in utter disgust. "Jesus Christ..." he said walking away shaking his head.

- - - - - - - -

The next morning, they woke up to a loud banging on the door. (Y/N) shot up looking around to see Erik laying next to her snoring." She grabbed the robe that the hotel provided wrapping it around her body. She ran to the door to see guards standing outside of her door. She opened it.

"Oh well how can I help you gentlemen?" she asked smiling at them.

"We are reporting to all the guests that was at the bid last night. Some artifacts was stolen from us." she said as she gasped.

"What? Oh my goodness, who would do such a thing?" she asked.

"Well we suspect you two. You guys aren't really together are-"

"Everything alright baby?" Erik came into view as they looked at him in shock. Not because of his scars but because all of the hickies and scratch marks that was over his body. They took notice of the ones that you had on your neck.

"No, they are accusing of us of not being together! They think we stole some artifacts from that place. Well I tell-"

"So why were you the first ones to leave?" he asked as she scoffed.

"After that fight, we decided that it was out of control and unprofessional. We can take our business else where." she said rolling her eyes. "Y'all don't have any cameras or security. Just ghetto if you ask me."

"We did have cameras, they were all out."

"So you're accusing us of stealing? We don't need to steal."

"Do you want us to show our wedding pictures? Because we-"

"Actually Mrs. Hardaway, we don't have any more questions. We are sorry for bothering you." he said. She slammed the door in their face before turning around.

"I'm surprise you can even walk."

"Shut the hell up."

- - - - - - -

They made it back to the quarters for the briefing. After the briefing Ricky went to your office to talk to you and Erik. "First I would like to say congratulations. You guys did an excellent job." he smiled at the two.

"Well you know I always try my best." (Y/N) said smiling back to him.

"And another thing. If you know the room is wired, please be a little more quiet when you guys do the do. It's very uncomfortable." he said before walking out. (Y/N) eyes went wide as Erik chuckled shaking his head.

"I totally forgot that it was wired..." she said putting her hands in her face.

"To be honest... I realized half way through but I was like fuck it." he laughed as she threw a pen at him but he caught it. "While we're on topic, I need to finish up my report. But meet me in the quiet room in an hour. I want some more." he told her and with that he left.

Damn...

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Colours

Word count: 1754

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: How about a natasha x reader Soulmate AU?

Summary: Soulmate AU. Reader has never really liked the idea of a soulmate and is fine with not having one until she wakes up in a hospital able to see colours and Natasha is on a long mission.

A/n: This one took me awhile to get around to, but at least it’s here now. This was requested by both an anon and @casperlikej​ so I hope you and everyone else likes it! I keep deciding to catch up on my fics and then procrastinating so sorry I still have a lot I haven’t written yet. Enjoy!

You zip up your tactical suit, grinning across the jet at Natasha. She smiles softly back as she straps her guns to her thighs. You can’t help but stare at that movement, admiring how hot she looks before quickly taking your eyes away before she notices.

“Alright team,” Steve speaks up, “we need to find the weapon’s stash which is located in the red building in the north cluster.”

“Um Stevie, some of us don’t have soulmates and don’t fucking know what red is.” You remind him and he sighs, exasperated with your nickname for him.

“Just follow me.” He tells everybody but Tony, Bucky and Bruce. “And Y/n, how many times do I need to tell you that you haven’t found your soulmate yet, not that you don’t have one.”

You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about soulmates Stevie.”

He opens his mouth to respond but Tony cuts him off. “As much as I would love to see the two of you argue about soulmates for the thousandth time, we’re landing.” 

The mood instantly turns serious as the jet touches down and everyone gives themselves a quick check over to make sure they have everything. You once again look at Natasha and grin as everyone makes their way off the jet. She doesn’t notice which is probably for the best because sooner or later she was bound to notice your small crush on her.

“Let’s get ‘em guys.” Tony says as you all rush towards a building in the back, following Steve’s lead.

The fire fight when you got to the cluster was heavier than expected and you were dodging bullets left and right. The hydra agents were dropping fast though and before long there were only a few of them left. You smile at your assumed success when you feel a sharp pain in your chest and you hit the ground and your vision starts to blacken. You can vaguely make out the voices of your teammates shouting at you to wake up but it takes too much effort so you let the darkness overcome you.

Wanda runs over to you, the first to see you fall, checking for a pulse, sighing in relief when she finds one.

“She’s still breathing.” She calls out and the rest of the team follows her lead, sighing in relief before taking down the few remaining hydra agents.

Steve steps forward, gingerly picking you up. “I’ll bring her back to the jet to get medical attention, the rest of you finish the mission.”

“But-” Natasha starts to protest but falls silent under Steve’s stern gaze. Steve takes you back, trying to find the balance between quickly getting you to the jet and trying to to jostle you. When he gets back he yells for the medics and places you on the table.

You feel as though everything is blurry. “Stevie?” You slur.

“Shhh, don’t speak, it’s going to be alright.” He tells you. You hear nurses come into the room, then the sharp prick of the needle then nothing.

Only a few minutes pass before the rest of the team comes bursting into the jet.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asks frantically as Natasha walks over to you and the others look on.

“She’ll be fine,” one of the doctors assures, “we just need to stitch her up and she needs some rest.”

“Good,” Natasha says shortly, reaching out to hold your hand, “HOLY SHIT!!!”

“What?” Multiple voices ask her.

She lets a small smile spread across her face. “I can see colours now.”

---

The first thing you hear is the tell tale beeping of machines that let you know that you were in either the hospital or medbay. You shift around in your bed, opening your eyes, taking in the room.

In your dazed state it takes a second for you to realize that you can see colours. “What the fuck?!?!?!??” 

“Isn’t it exciting?” Steve’s voice asks and you turn to the side to see him and Natasha sitting in the two chairs by the hospital bed. 

“Exciting?” You ask. “This is horrible! I don’t want a soulmate!”

“Don’t say that.” Steve says sternly.

“If that’s the way she feels it’s ok Steve, no need to get mad at her.” Natasha says before turning to you. “Now that I know you’re awake I have to leave for a mission.” With that she strides out of the room. 

“Be safe!” You shout after her.

When you turn back to Steve he’s shaking his head at you. “Why don’t you want a soulmate?” 

“Because the concept is stupid,” you explain as though it should be obvious, “I touch someone skin to skin and suddenly I can see colours? Now I’m automatically supposed to be in love? What the fuck is that?”

Steve sighs. “It’s hard to explain but Bucky makes me the happiest I’ve ever been, give your soulmate a chance.”

“No can do,” you say apologetically, “tell whoever it is sorry but I don’t want to shack up with some random person just because I’m supposed to.”

Steve looks disappointed in you but doesn’t disagree. “If that’s what you really want.”

---

It had been two months since the soulmate thing and honestly things were good. As much as the idea of soulmates still repulsed you you had to admit that seeing colours was pretty cool. The only bad thing was that Natasha had been gone on a top secret assignment since she had talked to you in the hospital and you missed her more than you should have.

Tony and Steve walk by and you stop them. “Do you guys have any idea of when Natasha is going to be back?”

They exchange a look before Tony speaks up. “We actually just got off the phone with Fury and her mission just ended but he’s giving her a little off time so she’s not coming back until next week.”

“Is Natasha okay?” You ask, frowning. “She doesn’t usually take off time.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll see you around later.” Steve says, brushing off your concern and walking away with Tony. You watch them walk away, suspicion clouding your thoughts. It was unlike Steve to not seem to care about his teammates so you know that something is wrong. You also are a bit suspicious of the glance Steve and Tony had before answering and you know for sure they are hiding something about Natasha’s mission. You snort to yourself, being a spy was your old job and they still thought they could hide things from you.

You decide to go and see if Fury will tell you anything about Natasha. You aren’t super concerned because you know if she was seriously injured or even dead Steve would have told you, you’re just very curious. 

“Come in.” Fury says when you knock on the door of his office.

You get straight to the point. “Why is everyone acting weird about Natasha’s mission and why is she taking time off? And don’t feed me some bullshit answer.”

He stays silent for a minute, appearing thoughtful. “I will tell you because I fear otherwise could damage team dynamics. However if this is information you don’t like, you have to pretend not to know it.”

“Of course sir.” You respond confused.

He slides a file across the table and you eagerly grab it and start to read, only to find out it’s your file.

“Why are you giving me my own file?” You ask him. He points his finger at a spot near the bottom of the page.

Soulmate: Natasha Romanoff

You look up in shock. “Natasha’s my soulmate???” He nods. “Shit!”

“I assumed you would be happy to find out she was your soulmate.” He tells you. “Please don’t let anyone, even Natasha, know that you know.”

“No sir,” you explain, “I am happy she’s my soulmate, I thought it was some random doctor I had never met, but I said, right in front of her that I didn’t want my soulmate.”

“I know Y/n, who do you think she begged to be allowed on a mission?” You look down sheepishly after he says that. 

He takes pity on you and scribbles an address down on a scrap of paper and hands it to you. “Take one of the small jets and don’t mess this up.”

“Thank you.” You tell him before rushing out of the room, immediately making your way to the jets.

---

Ten hours later you’re exhausted but finally are here and you knock on Natasha’s hotel room door. 

“Hello?” She questions when she answers the door. “How did you know where I was staying?”

“I know we’re soulmates.” You tell her, ignoring her question.

Her eyes grow wide. “You better come inside for this conversation.” You step in as she holds the door open and take a seat on the edge of the bed as she closes the door. Instead of sitting beside you she stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, her stance defensive.

“You can sit down.” You tell her, patting a spot beside you. 

She hesitantly makes her way over and takes a seat. “Thanks.”

You look at her, unsure of how to exactly express how you feel. “I’m sorry Tasha.” 

“There’s no need to be sorry,” she responds, “I’ve always known how you felt about soulmates.”

“Yeah but that was before I actually had one.” You say.

She scoffs. “Don’t back track now, I was in the hospital when you said you didn’t want a soulmate.”

“Tasha,” you breath reaching out to touch her hand with yours, biting her lip when she pulls away, “that was before I knew it was you.”She scoffs again, looking away. You put your hand on her chin and turn her to face you again. “I’m serious Tasha. I thought my soulmate was some doctor I didn’t know, not my friend who I happened to have a little bit of a crush on.”

She blushes and bites her lip. “So you do want me?” She asks, in a heartbreakingly timid voice.

“Always.” You say before leaning in to kiss her. She kisses super softly at first, like she’s scared you’re not there but quickly getting more comfortable. When you break apart you rest your forehead against hers, lips still close to touching. 

“My soulmate.” She says in a voice that’s the perfect mix of sweet and possessive to make your knees weak and your heart jump.

“Your soulmate.” You agree.

---

Tagging: @fayhar​ @stephanieromanoff​ @acertainredhead​ @stop-drop-and-drumroll​ @peggycarter-steverogers​ (if you want to be added, comment, send an ask, or message me)

[fancyfade]

Okay, a lonely place of dying thoughts. This will be long

So, I just finished re-reading a lonely place of dying. before I get to far into it: This is specifically to analyze the way the character and information is presented to the reader. It’s not to say “so and so is a bad character” or “this is a bad plotline”.

Starting off: they were definitely playing it super safe for the comic reader when they introduced Tim. It feels as if he is introduced literally as an audience avatar. For a large portion of the time before we meet him, we literally are seeing through his eyes -- the panel is positioned so that we would be at his head height, looking at whatever he’s looking at. we never see him except for his hands (so the audience can presumably imagine themselves in his shoes).

this isn’t the way they usually frame unknown characters or characters whose identity is obscured to create an air of mystery -- and there’s an excellent comparison in this same plotline, because there is a character with their identity obscured, who was framed a different way

[image: first two panels are of two face, who is wearing a trench coat and a fedora that casts a shadodw and obscures his face so we cannot tell who he is. His face is completely in shadow. he is talking to someone behind him. he says "Tomorrow. The zwei brothers warehouse. Two am. Now go back to your wife. the fat lady's about to sing." in the next panel, we see him from behind. the back of his head is entirely in shadow to avoid giving us any hints as to who he is. the man he's talking to, Gerry sky, says "whatever it is -- later." two face says "now. 'payroll activation'" and gerry says "okay, okay -- now."

next there's a panel with the dialogue whited out. We still see two face, wearing gloves and having nearly all of his skin (except for his face, which is always in shadow) covered. First we look at him from above and he is small against a dark room with a bookshelf in the background. Then there's a closeup of only his gloved hand as he turns off the radio. We see him from behind (thighs up) as he stands in front of a window, then another shot of his gloved hand trying to touch the radio. and both his hands clench in fists. He hits the radio, breaking it (his body is still off screen except for his arm and hand) and then at his feet we see the broken radio. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of two face on panel

Notice: The presumed “camera angle” is dynamic around Two face. We see him from multiple angles -- from both in front and behind. When we are looking at the same thing he's looking at, we are positioned behind him, like we're looking over his shoulder. the close ups on his hand are not positioned as if he's looking at his own hand and we are in his head pay special attention to the panel he's adjusting the radio on and the fourth panel of the page -- we're looking from the side of him or from behind him and under his elbow there.

Two face is our mysterious bad guy. This is how they visually frame a character they want an air of mystery around.

compare that to the framing around tim

[image: first, we are looking through a camera that is continuously taking pictures of Batman as he stumbles down a slide, walks shakily to his batmobile, and takes off. then the camera is lowered (we see the hand that is lowering the camera in the view, it is below us as if we were looking through this person's eyes) and put inside a duffle bag. after that, we see something in the conrer of the screen -- an arm wearing a jacket?) and puddles of blood, then a bike tire -- but not the rest of the bike, which is off panel -- cutting through the puddles of blood. next pages shows a bunch of internal monologue that has been blockedo ut. a series of batman and robin pictures from the newspapers and a picture of batman swinging on a line in a scrap book. (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. we can see the hand grabbing this picture as if we were holding it.

then we appear to be behind whoever is on the page, looking at his elbow, as he opens up a drawer, then we're back "inside" his head again as he holds up a photo with the graysons (john, dick, mary) and the drakes (tim and his parents). 3 year old tim is sitting on 12 year old dick's leg. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of  Tim in Panel

okay sorry forgive me but this is fucking fascinating in my opinion. Notice that for two face, most of the close ups on his hands were specifically away from his point of view -- we weren’t positioned where his eyes were, but looking from the outside in.

For tim, we’re almost always looking through his eyes, contrasting to two face

and for tim, even when we were not looking through his eyes, in the very first page, he wasn’t even on panel -- we knew nothing about him, we just saw the edge of his bike. the second page we saw a bit of his arm but we never zoom out far enough to see his whole body and definitely not his face -- even if it would be obscured by shadow.

The first read through, I assumed they were going for an air of mystery, but the contrast between how they handle two face and tim to me makes it clear that they weren’t -- it might have been an unintended side effect, or a bonus effect, but it wasn’t the main purpose. The audience is literally viewing most of the panels Tim is in through Tim’s eyes. He is almost literally an audience avatar.

My general hypothesis here (which I think I am supplying proof of) is that Tim is intended to be an avatar in universe for the “average comic reader" (with some assumptions made by the writer about the average comic reader re: race, age,  gender, socioeconomic class)

For more support of this, let’s see how Tim talks about batman and robin --

[image: 3 comic panels from batman 440 featuring newspaper clippings (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. there is internal monologue from (the framing of the scene implies tim drake, but at this point he is unknown to the audience) reading “He seemed happier with dick. Now, I guess it’s like he just doesn’t care. But I want him to care again. I want him to be the batman I remember.” then, we have panels from the new titans 61 dick, as nightwing, is reaching in to talk to tim. he grabs tim's arm. dick says, “I don't believe this. that man raised me. I've gone through hell with him and because of him. Don't lecture me about him until you've cared for him and loved him as long as I have”. dick puts his helmet on and drives off on his bike. before leaving, he says "when jason died, he took robin with him." Tim cries and calls after him: "I... I was only thinking of the team... of what Batman and Robin meant! You can't let a legend die like that, Dick..." end image]

end image/begin comment - Tim’s perception of Batman & Robin

Notice in the first panels (with the newspaper clippings) that Tim is reminiscent, he specifically talks about ‘teh batman and robin’ that he remembers. The narrative puts more significance for tim on the fact that batman is not happy and he is not the batman tim remembers, rather than the fact that batman is beating people nearly to death (tim notices this, and it seems to be a “because batman is so clearly sad” thing -- which this is not I believe intended to be a commentary on tim’s priorities, since the general narrative seems to be using bruce’s ultra-violence as a sign he’s angsty).

Then, compare dick’s reaction to bruce with Tim’s.

Dick’s connection to Bruce is extremely personal. Bruce, Batman, whatever, is his dad and raised him and, like he said, put him through hell sometimes. His connection to Jason’s death is similarly personal.

Tim’s connection to Batman and Robin is extremely abstract and idealized. He is thinking of them as, say, a comics reader might think of them. As a crimefighting team who are not together anymore, and this is bad.

this is just bulletpoint 2 in “tim is supposed to represent the audience”, not intending to be a condemnation of tim.

Thirdly

[image: first, a comic panel from Batman 440 showing a close up of Tim’s hand as he reads a paper and him thinking ‘No! the haly circus is closing?’ then, a series of comic panels from the new titans # 60. first, we see mr haly (off screen) and his cigar (on screen) as haly gestures at a photo of the flying grayson's on the wall. then he says "Yeah. Cost us a fortune and brought down our selling price. You know, sometimes I sit here and just remember the good old days. We were barely breaking even back then, too -- but man, were we having fun. then, we see dick grayson wearing jeans and a red shirt, walking through the circus ground. first, he looks kind of dejected and his hands are in his pockets. the narration box reads "he leaves, trying to reconcile the past and the present. Kids grow up and change. but why should everything do the same? The animal cages stink with waste. Was it always this way? At times like now, he wishes for never-never land." then, dick turns as he hears something and says "Hunh? That scream?" end image]

end image/begin comment - Nostalgia as a Theme

Nostalgia is an EXTREMELY strong theme in this comic. Batman is different, he’s not like he used to be. Haley’s circus is different and at risk, but Dick goes back and meets the performers he used to know -- some are still the same, some are in a more rough situation (alcoholic clown). Someone’s trying to kill his friends in the circus, it’s not really a place of childhood innocence for Dick.  Dick explicitly wishes to be in never-never land (the imaginary far off place where you never grow up)

How things should be -- both in Tim’s mind and Dick’s mind, Haly’s mind  -- is the idealistic past, but we clearly can’t go back to it -- Dick says that the first thing Bruce taught him was how to grow up.

Next bulletpoint:

[image: first are some comic panels showing Tim Drake talking to Dick Grayson and Alfred Pennyworth in wayne manor. Tim says “You know, since I was able to read, I clipped every article I could about Batman and Robin. Heck, I used to fantasize about what it would be like to be robin. I study hard. I get mostly A’s. I work out. I’m no circus acrobat, but I’m pretty good, I guess. But mostly, I read aobut you two. You’ve both been so important to me in so many ways. And when I see that without Robin Batman is going off hte deep end, I know there’s serious trouble.” next, we see Dick stepping forward and talking to Tim. he says "But you haven't told me anything I don't already know. I want the rest of it. All of it." end image]

end image/ begin commentary - textually a fanboy

Textually, Tim is presented as a Batman and Robin fanboy -- that’s how he found Batman’s secret identity (link)

He studies Batman and Robin from afar. He reads about them. Kind of like a comics reader would. he wants to be Robin. Again, superhero comics have some wish fulfillment element and definitely wanting to imagine yourself in a character’s shoes is an appeal for many fans. Tim wanted to imagine himself in robin’s shoes and fantasized about being him -- there’s kind of two layers here, one is the presumed audience member reading tim, wanting to imagine themselves in his shoes as he interacts with his heroes, the other is tim, who wanted to imagine himself in dick’s shoes.

re: the second posted image in this set: Tim hasn’t told dick anything that dick doesn’t know, because tim doesn’t know anything dick doesn’t know -- he is the comic reader here. That’s also why he’s so up-to-date on all of the other comic character’s stuff -- we see him list off all of the teen titans, he talks about jason’s death casually, he knows that alfred is batman’s confident -- he pretty much has all of the information that a reader of DC comics would have if they just got beamed into the DC universe at this point.

[image: first, two panels, one showing tim smiling and thinking "Wow! And I thought Harry did it. Man, Dick is good". tehn we see dick holding some photos and talking ot tim, who is at his bike. dick says "These pictures, two face is back in town, isn't he?" Tim says "You can tell, just from them? Wow! You're even better than I thought." the next scene is in the batcave. Dick is nightwing and is about to leave on his motor cycle, alfred and tim are behind him. tim says "no, not nightwing, Dick. don't you understand -- Batman needs Robin!" he turns to look at alfred and says "Doesn't anyone understand?" Alfred says "Perhaps, young man. Perhaps master Dick understands profoundly -- perhaps that is why he brought you here." tim looks surprised. end image]

end image/begin commentary: The old robin’s approval

another very important thing here: DC plays it as safe as possible with tim’s introduction, trying to make the audience like him, and one is definitely establishing that Tim both looks up to dick and thinks he’s cool (first two panels) and that he has dick’s presumed approval/blessing to be robin (last three panels). it’s also important to note that while tim is portrayed as competent, he never shows up Batman and Nightwing -- he rescues them because two-face lured them into an expert trap, but he doesn’t outdo either of them on fighting or detective work. this has an in universe explanation -- he is 13 years old, just starting out -- and an out of universe explanation -- if he’s not showing up anyone’s favorite character, he is presumably more palatable and less threatening for the presumed reader.

that’s what i mean when I say taht DC played their intro of tim very safe -- he falls in with the established characters, already likes them, is practically already a fan of them with full fanboy connotations. The idealized past is presented as something as desirable, both to the reader and to the characters themselves, and there is a strong current of nostalgia and returning things to how they “should” be with Batman having a robin. Tim voices what many readers may feel: That batman lost his way, that he needs Robin, and he gets to act out those feelings in the comic. the text acknowledges that they can’t just force dick back into it, that people have to grow up, and dick passes the mantle to tim.

overall I think that tim’s employment here was effective, but I look forward to seeing more when he’s allowed to be himself rather than an audience avatar. I understand lots of people like audience avatars and he was wildly popular presumably for those reasons, but I personally found the plotline lackluster at points.

[princess-of-the-corner]

DP rewrite #2: Beauty Marked!

I originally wanted to rewrite this because it could have been good character development for Sam and her whole "I'm not like other girls" cringe phase and examining her issues. But then I added Star in and got attached.

We are scrapping the plot point of Danny being the judge and all the girls sucking up to him. Because that's lame as shit.

Anyway. The Trio is kinda... Used to how things work now. Something big happening in Amity Park? A Ghost will get involved. So while they don't suspect a Ghost is running the pageant, they expect a Ghost to get involved.

They decide to try and get ahead of the game. Sam is the only girl on the team so she enters as their inside informant, but is also using it as an excuse to make a statement of her disgust toward the whole thing and how girly and useless and pointless it all is.

Yes this rewrite is reminding you of Miss Congeniality. Which. Yeah. Basically what this episode should've been.

While Danny and Tucker are distracted with the other Ghosts showing up, Sam investigates the pageant. Checking the other girls to see if they're, like, overshadowed by a former beauty queen trying to relive their glory days or some shit.

While Sam's initial attitude rubs the girls the wrong way, things slowly start to calm down as the pageant goes on. It starts little. Maybe one of the girls asking "damn your eyeliner hasn't smudged at all, what brand is it?". But she starts actually talking to some of them. And like.

It just really shatters Sam's "other girls are all shallow and obsessed with beauty and don't care about anything that isn't being a pretty pink sparkly princess". Because yeah the other girls have, ya know. Varied interests. Some like books, some like video games, a few are sports stars, some even share Sam's interests in spooky things!

This is where we have Star begin to get more actual screentime as she does get along with Sam during this, but is still friends with Paulina and that causes some tension.

Sam once again expresses distaste for Paulina still being the epitome of the whole "sparkly pink airhead princess" that she hates. But Star just asks her "hey if Paulina likes it, why is it so bad?" And Sam can't really come up with an answer.

She's kinda reeling from all this but thinks about how, well, she'd hate to be like that. Which Star just counters with the fact that Sam doesn't have to be, if she doesn't want to.

Sam kind of... Realizes that a lot of her hatred of it comes from her parents. Trying to force her to be that kind of person. And how they don't like to take no for an answer and constantly insult her interests and fashion taste and such. Which made her rebel further into her interests. And her intense hatred of Paulina specifically is because Sam sees her as the embodiment of the ‘perfect daughter’ her parents want. 

But she also realizes that she has essentially been doing the same thing her parents do to her to the other girls. Putting down their interests as something ‘wrong’ and ‘unworthy of her time’, and the girls themselves are ‘wrong’ for liking that stuff. 

They continue talking a bit and Sam realizes she was wrong about some things and should work on her issues. Or at least stop with the misplaced aggression.

Back to the pageant and the Ghosts!

Star is the one who wins the pageant. At which point the pageant host reveals herself to be Dora and she kidnaps her. Whoops!

Danny, Sam and Tucker have no idea why this is happening, but they go on a rescue mission to the Ghost Zone.

Star is busy dealing with Dora and Aragon.

She gets along with Dora, despite the kidnapping. Dora admits she wishes to help Star escape, and she doesn't like how she's treated, but Aragon is in charge. It's how things work here. Star works on trying to convince her otherwise.

Star is ready to throw hands with Aragon though. She might not be a warrior type, but she's from Amity Park. They know how to deal with Ghosts. And while technology doesn't work, the ectoplasm-coated brass knuckles Sam gave her earlier totally do.

Our trio of Heroes arrive and help! Phantom gets to fight Aragon in his Dragon form while Tucker and Sam provide support through some stolen bows and arrows. Star quickly joins in while Dora watches.

She is curious about them. Why they are fighting. Why they don't act like she does. Sam and Star are both like "you are your own person, you are just as powerful as your brother is, and you deserve a lot better treatment! Who gives a shit about what this asshole wants?"

Something in Dora snaps, and she takes their advice to heart, becoming a Dragon herself and joining the fight.

The pair fight and Dora manages to win thanks to her anger, Aragon underestimating her, and the teens helping out.

Dora is now seen as ruler of this section of the Ghost Zone, making a comment on how rulership can transfer through combat(hints for future Ghost King!Danny shenanigans).

The Trio take Star back home, but....

Well. Star is smart.

She knows that Sam and Tucker never go anywhere without Danny. So when Sam and Tucker show up to save her without him, but with Phantom instead....

She has connected the dots. She's not sure what it means and decides to stay in her own lane for now, but that is definitely a revelation to her.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Y’all this episode had everything I could possibly have wanted and things I never even knew to wish for.

How did one episode start with Henry Crabgrass, the most glorious and beloved NPC of my heart, and end with mother fucking Avantika, with so much awesome shit in between!!!  How!!!

Okay I am making a list of shit I absolutely loved tonight, in approximate chronological order:

Y’all I just love Henry Crabgrass so much.  I don’t even have smart things to say about that fact, just a warm glow in my heart.  May all the light of Melora’s grace smile down upon them and leave Henry as the toughest, most unkillable patch of crabgrass in all Exandria.

Vess and the Tombtakers, so many questions and so few certain answers, so many things to wonder, so many dots to connect!  I really do feel like the crew are connecting them at this point, and while I’m sure in some places they’re far from the map, the general outline really is starting to emerge.  What, exactly, was in the book the Tombtakers tried to claim without showing it to Vess deRogna first?  What did it do to Lucien?  And, if Vess has the book--what are they trying to find now?

So okay, let’s talk about Yasha and Beau. As someone who has had a lot of feelings about the intense relatability of Beau’s crush on Jester, I have now fully committed to also having a whole lot of mostly new feelings about these terrible awkward disaster lesbians with no fucking idea what they’re doing.  I saw a post the other day mention how this whole relationship is about the feeling of discovering you can have this, that you can actually be happy, that you get to have this kind of relationship with someone.  I’ve written about that.  And I feel it so, so hard, every time I see them interact, when every bit of bravado leaves both of them. It’s so easy to be off-putting!  It’s so easy to have crushes on wonderful people you kind of wish would look at you but you’re absolutely sure never will.  It’s so hard to actually know what the fuck to do in the face of wait shit this might actually be a thing I could get for real? how? wait, how???

Also let’s talk about Jester in that scene, who ships Beauyasha harder than anything in the world???   Because yes, right, some of it is just that Jester loves romance, and some of it’s that Jester gets very invested in the happiness of her friends, but that is a lot of investment there.  And I can’t help wondering if there’s a little dimension of...she wants to see True Love and Happily-Ever-After work.  And she’s delighted to see it work for her friends who she loves, and when it comes true they’ll be happy and she loves that, but also I don’t know that Jester’s ever actually seen two people fall in love with each other and enter into a healthy, happy relationship before.  But hey, all of her books say this wonderful magical thing exists, and now it seems to actually be showing up for her friends?  Of course she wants to see it.  Of course she wants it to be just as magical and wonderful as in all her stories, even if it’s not for her. (And maybe especially if it’s not for her, but I think that’s a whole separate post about Jester and her very high passive insight and all the people who are in love with her and the very specific ways she treats each of them.)

I love Yeza.  Don’t we all love Yeza?  He’s trying so hard.  It’s always great to see Yeza for that kind of wide-eyed outsider POV on the M9 shenanigans, and I love it.  He made a comment this episode about meeting goblins while living in Rosohna, and everything that’s happened to him really hit me in a while new way.  Usually I think about how he’s had his life turned upside down by all of this, but man, just think how much he’s seen that he never in a million years would have begun to expect to experience!  This smalltown alchemist from a pastoral little farming city in the middle of the Dwendalian midwest has lived for a significant amount of time as a housekeeper in the capitol city of the Krynn Dynasty.  He must have gone to the markets and met the neighbors and learned the streets and the food, and who had he ever known in his whole life who could say such a thing?  He lived with the Ruby of the Sea in Nicodranas by the ocean.  He’s been to Zadash, now, and it’s only a matter of time before he sees Rexxentrum.  How much farther will he go?  (Man, I would love some good Yeza fic once this campaign is over.  I think it’s going to take that long for me to really know how his story arc ends.)

Someone was posting earlier this episode about witnessing Vess scare Yeza so badly, and insight into how the Nein are starting to run in circles that really outstrip the people they used to know.  Watching Pumat in the wake of being Informed By Lady de Rogna That He Would Put A Rush On That has really hammered it home.  They remarked, in their very M9 somewhat idle vaguely ridiculous way that they wanted the icebreaker, and one tiny snowman later Vess had pulled rank and money and rerouted the ship’s entire passage for them.  She’s scary--and with her, the M9 have the kind of power that’s scary, too. And that’s always such an interesting moment.  The M9 are used to thinking of themselves as people with very little, who have to fight and scrap and get lucky for their own survival all the time.  And yes, they’re utterly careless with money--why not be, when it comes and goes and almost none of them have ever really seen it help or last?  And yes, they’re prone to violence and sometimes pretty rude.  But before now, it’s always been a situation where the M9 acting loud, rude, and demanding could be chaotic underdogs scrapping to get what they needed or wanted from people who had the option of saying no.  Suddenly they’re in a position where the balance of social situations is biased in their favor instead of against them. There’s such a difference between ‘please accede to my unreasonable request because I have a high charisma and will pay you lots of gold’, and, ‘you’re going to accede to my unreasonable request because otherwise my Cerberus Assembly boss may or may not have you assassinated’.  The M9 have never been on this side of that before.  I’m very curious to see how much they notice that they are now.

PALADIN OATH PALADIN OATH PALADIN OATH!  I was not paying nearly enough attention when that scene started, so I am going to need to watch it again and also make extra sure to read any available source material on this specific homebrew oath, because it’s probably not exactly the same as the Oath of the Sea homebrew you can find on google.  There’s some overlap between the abilities there and the ones Fjord already have, and the vows don’t quite match up, though some of them are close.  Ugh, mostly I’m just so glad it has happened and Fjord has promised and he means it, he means it so much.  He rest-of-his-life means it, and my heart belongs to Fjord who couldn’t even imagine the rest of his life as a thing separate from the monotony of his first thirty years, so very recently.

I actually always really love when CR has episodes at sea?  Obviously the M9 have done it the most, but Vox Machina went sailing a time or two as well, and it’s just always so great.  It’s often days of down time in a way that overland travel isn’t, and the party fills it with so many good little moments.  Matt always gives them such cool encounters.  On boats, spending a week at a time getting from one place to another, so much of the chaos of rewriting a plan seventeen times in an hour gets stripped away: they’re headed towards a destination, sometimes something comes up to deter them, and they have to find a way to deal with it.  There are always crew members and the structure of a boat itself to take into consideration in any combat that pops up.  It’s just such a nice tone, and I also love that the ocean itself kind of hates them now because it adds really delightful additional risks, and anyway heck yeah ocean voyage.

WHICH ENDS IN UNDEAD AVANTIKA ATTACKING THE SHIP WITH A TRIO OF CRAB-MEN AND WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE HOLY FUCK.  Look, I think M9 becoming pirates by accident and then trying to figure out wtf might actually be my favorite arc of this campaign so far, and every time it comes back I get so so happy.  I’ve got some feelings about this showing up in the same episode as Fjord finally taking his full oath to the Wildmother. They are going to have to kill U’kotoa before this campaign is through.  They are going to have to, because Fjord will never be safe on the ocean again if they don’t, and Fjord has bound himself by vow and will in service as the Wildmother’s paladin of the open sea.  She hasn’t asked it of him, not specifically, but it’s his job.  It’s going to be his job.  In part it’ll be because it’s poetic justice, Fjord taking down the cruel demigod who (in some ways) made him.  Mostly it’s just that killing U’kotoa is a job that needs to be done.  To protect the oceans, the life they hold, the people who sail upon them, it’s going to need to be done.  It’s Melora’s domain to do this, which means it’s her paladin’s job, and Fjord is her paladin of the sea.  It’ll be him sooner or later.

I am so fucking delighted at the massive pile of fireworks on the deck of this ship, and I hope to god these Chekhovian bottle rockets go off before the end of this combat encounter, because this is, in fact, all I ever wanted the minute Beau put them in there.

[yinyanchan]

Housemates x Zoot Suit Riot Crossover: Lucky and Strike part 2

Last part of the crossover. I will be trying to do one from what happened to Blue and Orange on the otherside but please enjoy Lucky and Strikes shennanigans! Also there is a bit of a teaser for a couple of skeletons not yet introduced in Zoot Suit Riot. Merica and Spirit. Dusttale Mafia Sans and Papyrus. Cigarrette brand American Spirit.

Under the Cut!

This was going to be a lot harder than they thought.

One thing for sure as they look at eachother… Nook possibly knows the truth but is deciding to stay out of it. He’s a Papyrus after all… far more clever than they let on.

They go the direction Nook had pointed out earlier and sure enough Lucky opens a door that looks to be Oranges and Strike opens the door that screams Blue. Well at least they knew where “their” rooms were. Now came time to plan… but as it seems… Maybe these guys were pushovers in this timeline. Other than the horror brothers… Can they confess to outright murdering? And for fun at times?

This wasn’t the dog eat dog atmosphere they were used to… It seemed like they all got along under one roof here. Not to mention… there was another you.

One so willing to give physical affection that Lucky had been striving for since he had arrived in the other “Original” Sans world… only this one wasn’t ripe with gangsters and rife with Mafia undertones.

Strike was in his own little world as well. Apparently debating their options as well as he hummed. They could play along for a bit and see how it goes. So what if Red “knew” they could pass it off as a dare gone bad.

Both smirked at one another as they came to the same conclusion.

Great minds think alike.

They were going to test this world out and see how open this world’s Y/N would be to being with them. Not that they didn’t like the other you… they were pretty fond of you as well but there hasn’t been a chance to really get to know you and you had your guard up a lot.

This you was different. Far more open it seemed… It made them feel bad that in the times they had been with the other you… the other you had never smiled that big… as if something was constantly on your mind and it was a heavy burden.

The more they thought about the other you… they found they actually missed you.

“You think she misses us?” Lucky looks down and Strike is floored with his older brother's question.

“Dunno we were quite the handful.” Strike chuckles but even doubt was in his soul as well. Lucky had never questioned the consequences before. They always happened whether they were good or bad. They were an inevitable outcome.

Strike could only stare in awe as he sees his brother briefly look so vulnerable.

“What if… what if she does and we can’t get back?”

Both didn’t want to answer Lucky’s question… they already knew they’d be stuck… The machinery here was far more advanced than Strike had ever worked with… seeing as he had to use scrap from the dump to make his. Yet he recognizes how modern tech works… just not the inner workings just yet.

“Then I guess our soulmate here will do… yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The silence was awkward… even for them.

They both went to what was their rooms to search a few things and get situated. Probably wouldn’t take this world's Sans long after Red found him. Strike was hard up on information but Lucky at least found a journal that Blue kept that would provide a lot of useful tidbits. They then both reconvened into Blue’s room for a quick briefing as sure enough…

*knock knock*

“Hey, M’lord says dinner is ready. We’re just waitin’ on everyone ta get home.” Clueing in on the voice and the m’lord… That must be Russ.

“He also asks why ya didn’t come down ta help him but he then said ya were traumatized by Orange’s laundry.” They heard him snicker as the door pops open a little and there is a skeleton that looks like Mild. Yet wearing almost similar attire to the one they knew as Red. They watch as he stretches his lanky body with a yawn. Gold fang glittering in the light.

“Heh, one things fer sure Orange is at least ya don’t have ta put up wit wearin’ a security uniform… thems the pits.” Then his lazy gaze sharpens when he notices Lucky and Orange look at him in shocked almost fear… or anger… Russ wasn’t sure but it wasn’t something he was used to seeing from either skeleton unless it was something they thought was wrong.

“Ya two ok?” He asks and both skeletons seem to loosen themselves a bit and even though they had the laid back and cheerful disposition… they were still a bit tense.

“ARMED SECURITY?” Lucky asks with a grin.

“What the? No Blue. They don’t let me walk around the school campus wit a gun. I’m not a police officer.” Russ looks helpless as to why now Blue would even ask that.

“Yeah he’s not feelin’ all there after finding a sweet stash I had in my pockets that I… may have forgotten about… for longer than I care to mention.” Strike snickers and pats Lucky’s skull. It eases the more taller skeleton but the feeling that something was off was still there.

“Right… well I’m goin’ down ta get a good spot next to Darlin’.” With a wave he exits, shutting the door behind him.

Lucky instantly is growling.

“Damn rivals… no matter where we fucking go.” Lucky flings the journal back onto the desk and then back flops on the bed. Strike shakes his head.

“Guess we gotta go to dinner.” Strike heads his way to the door.

“Think it wise?” Lucky glares at him then wistfully gets up as his brother lifts a brow.

“I think it would be unwise not to.” Strike counters and they both put on their best game faces and make their way out.

As they turn to go down the other flight of stairs that was nearby… there was another skeleton they hadn’t seen… well in this world… before.

Kentucky as they knew him… his brother was Twist… well in this world this must be Axe. Nook's older brother.

He was just standing there leaning his back up against the hallway wall… his gaze not leaving them as they exited.

“HI AXE! HOW ARE YOU?” Luck does his bright and bubbly routine and Strike lazily waves with a grin.

Axe’s hollow smile dims slightly then stretches widely. His eye light narrowed in his skull. He chuckles and then kicks himself off the wall and ambles down the stairs. Once they were sure he was out of earshot.

“I don’t understand… I’ve read the journal and I’m definitely nailing the peppy persona… yet it’s like he knew instantly.” Lucky whispers over to Strike.

“Maybe Nook talked to him about us.” They both eyed each other then raised their guard before slapping on their persona attitudes.

As soon as they entered the kitchen…

“THERE YOU ARE! I HAD TO HELP IN THE KITCHEN BECAUSE YOU ARE TO BUSY SLACKING! JUST WHAT I WANTED TO DO AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK.” Was a tall and fearsome skeleton, yet definitely not their Swisher… this must be Edge. Swisher was tall, dark, and more importantly silent.

They looked at the table and everyone was there… including Red that was sitting by the one they took as the original Sans at the head of the table. His brother Papyrus was sitting on the other side reading a book.

“OH COME ON EDGE! IT WAS REVOLTING… I NEEDED SOME SPACE.” Lucky puts on his best puppy dog eyes and Edge scoffs.

“EXCUSES!!!” Edge fires back and brings a loaded serving dish to the table along with Berry.

“So… ya gonna do Red’s laundry I take it?” Strike smirks as Edge blanches and almost gags. It took everything for Lucky not to laugh, having been in said person's room, but instead give Strike a cross look. Strike pulls off a shrug as Lucky pretends to give that scolding gaze.

“FAIR ENOUGH.” Edge groans and motions for them to take a seat. You were already seated with Russ beside you and there was a vacant seat beside you. Lucky was eyeing it until Red growled and moved to sit next to you. Leaving everyone a little puzzled but Red was Red.

So Strike took the seat next Sans and Lucky took a seat next to Papyrus. Sans nods at Strike and Papyrus instantly latches onto Lucky’s attention. Showing off what was surely a courtship guide.

The meal was going great save for Red not really eating and his gaze constantly going back and forth between Lucky and Strike.

After dinner and dessert… which Lucky merrily ate seconds…

Sans clears his throat to gain everyone's attention.

“Now that everyone is settled and fed… elephant in the room… Who are you two and where’s Blue and Orange?” Sans scowls… Lucky and Strike freeze and just look at him in disbelief.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Lucky plays up his innocent act and anyone who didn’t know him personally could instantly be fooled with it.

“Yeah… not buying it.” Axe snickers.

“What were ya two fucks doin’ in my room?” Red growls.

“Language!” Berry fires at him but then… he turns to look at Lucky strangely as if waiting for Lucky to say something. When Lucky looked around they were all looking at him like he had grown two heads for being silent. Strike was trying to hide the fact he was starting to sweat… normally he’s good under pressure but usually because he’s got the upper hand… not so here.

Even you were looking at him oddly.

Sans set on a table a black with a little blue bowler hat on the table.

“MY BOWL…. I MEAN A BOWLER HAT!!! THATS NEAT.” Strike groans… Lucky loves that hat and has gone through death, gore, and destruction if it ever falls off. As everyone eyes him curiously.

“SERIOUSLY! I LIKE A TYPE OF HAT AND I'M A BAD GUY!? A SKELETON LIKE ME CAN ADMIRE THINGS… BESIDES I THINK IT SUITS ME.” He pouts.

“I’m gonna ask ya again. What tha fuck were ya doin’ in my room.” Red growls and glares at Berry as he looks to yell at him again for his language. Berry actually backs off with how serious Red is taking this.

“Blue said they had found one of your shirts in the dryer and he was returning it. Right Blue?” You ask even though you seemed very wary of this situation.

“Oh yeah? Where'd ya put it because I didn’t find shit.” He smacks his hands down on the table and raises himself to look at Lucky.

“LIKE I’D WANT TO ACTUALLY TOUCH ANYTHING IN YOUR ROOM. IT’S YOUR FAULT YOU CAN’T FIND IT.” Lucky glares back.

“SPEAKING OF COULDN’T FIND… YOU WEREN’T ABLE TO FIND YOUR OWN ROOMS AND THEN BLAMED IT ON A ROGUE SOCK.” Nook pipes up and Axe snickers.

“Also didn’t think ya guys liked my jokes.” Axe leers.

Lucky and Strike seem taken aback by how much these skeletons communicated.

“As fer not touching my stuff… Where is it?” Red scowls eyeing both Lucky and Strike. Strike seems to realize something very important, Lucky had pocketed something, he shoots his brother a ‘you didn’t!” look but Lucky was busy playing the part of the innocent.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.” Lucky looks absolutely puzzled… Strike could only wonder what it was… The only thing Lucky had picked up was the magazine but tossed it when he thought he was caught.

Then Red does something that shocks everyone.

He pulls out said magazine and slaps on the table in front of Lucky. The cover sporting a fully nude woman giving a come hither look. There were gasps all around the table and you were blushing like mad.

“JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!!!! THERE IS A LADY PRESENT YOU FUCKING DAFT CUNT!!!!” Lucky screams as he grabs the magazine and throws it away from your view. As he turns back everyone is slack jawed looking at him save for Red. Strike face palms as this world’s Sans turns to look at him.

“Give me back my centerfold ya damn creepy imposter!!! I know one of ya has it!” He turns his glare at Strike but he’s shaking his head.

“For fucks sake Lucky! You took the man's centerfold!?” Strike glares at his brother. Red puffs out his chest in pride knowing they had been caught.

“DAMMIT STRIKE!!! I TOLD YOU THAT I FELT JIPPED BECAUSE WE HAD NOTHING THAT SHOWED EVEN A SLIVER OF SKIN. THIS SHOWS EVERYTHING!!!!” Lucky reaches in the battle body and flips out the centerfold, that landed open for all to see. Lucky pauses and then turns to you sheepishly.

“I am so sorry… a lady like yourself shouldn’t have heard or seen any of that. My lady, I apologize.” Lucky is actually blushing and apologizing. That was a new one for Strike.

“MY WORD SANS… IT DOES SHOW EVERYTHING.” Papyrus blushes and Sans looks ballistic.

Berry is catatonic from the foul language as well as the lewd imagery. Russ seems bewildered at what to do. Looking around at his brother, the centerfold, then at you.

Edge is glaring at his proud brother.

“THIS IS WHY I TRY NOT TO GO IN YOUR ROOM. THIS IS NOTHING TO BE PROUD OF.” Edge growls at Red who then looks sheepish himself.

Nook and Axe are still eating their dessert merrily. Pretty much enjoying the show.

“Get. it. Off. the. Table. N o w.” Sans bellows his sockets become voids and Red grabs it and instantly stuffs it inside his jacket.

Once it is off the table Berry seems to reboot leaving Russ to sigh in relief.

“Strike and Lucky is it?” Sans growls.

They look over at him nervously.

“WHERE IS BLUE AND ORANGE?” Papyrus glares and they instantly freeze. Papyrus is the very serious boss attitude where they came from and he didn’t pull punches either.

“W-Well you see Papyrus all of a sudden we got thrown here in these clothes!” Strike immediately says, as Lucky glares.

“Stool pigeon.” Lucky gripes.

“Lucky!!! This is not the time! Look, we didn’t know what to think! We come from a very harsh environment alright? We are from the world of gangsters, hit men, Mafia. Hell our nicknames are after a cigarette brand called Lucky Strike. Same with all of you sitting here… save for the original Sans and Papyrus.” Strike holds his hand up. He knows when things get real and when to bow out. Lucky never knows when to quit.

“We just want to go back home but we didn’t want to say anything because we didn’t know who we were dealing with.” Strike sighs and then glares at Lucky who sighs as well.

“Your guys must’ve been pulled through to our side… SHIT… STRIKE IF THEY WERE PULLED TO THAT TIMELINE THEY’D BE EATEN ALIVE!!!” Lucky comes to the realization that leaving more kinder souls with the rough mafia types would be trouble.

Sans stands up.

“Let’s go.” Sans rallies the other skeletons and as you get up he halts you.

“Kiddo, that machine is dangerous. We know what it can do with skeletons. Just not humans.” He warns and you sigh, having to stay behind.

“It was nice to meet another you, honeybun.” Strike pats your head.

“Though it was a little too brief… we miss our Y/N.” Lucky says shyly and you hug both of them.

“I know Blue and Orange… and if you’re their counterparts… You can’t be all bad.” You say with a smile making them blush as you let them go.

The pull making them want to stay longer until Berry places the bowler hat on Lucky’s head.

“I WANT BLUE BACK. I MISS MY PARTNER IN KEEPING THINGS SANE AROUND HERE.” Berry huffs.

All the skeletons quickly made their way to the basement and to the machine. Sans goes over the records and quickly types in buttons as the other skeletons ask the pair questions.

Answering what they could about their homelife, the type of guns they prefered with their magic… The whirring of the machine caught everyone’s attention.

Bright light enveloped them and Blue and Orange came stumbling out in suits. As soon as they see everyone they run for hugs… even Orange.

“I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN!!!” Blue wails and Orange whispers thank yous.

Then they turned and looked at their doubles. 

“YOU TWO ARE TROUBLE.” Blue glares.

“AND YOU TWO ARE TOO NICE.” Lucky glares back with a smirk.

“They knew instantly we were not you two and they almost tried to kill us when we asked honey questions.”

“Yeah… about that… she still doesn’t know about the machine… still thinks we’re cousins and all that bs.” Strike snickers.

“Yet it seems this Sans has told the truth which is commendable.” Lucky nods.

“ACTUALLY THAT WAS OUR BAD.” Nook pipes up.

“Yep.” Axe concurs.

“Right… seems to be Kentucky and Twist's goal as well, if they can get to her that is. Oh and they are mafia versions of you two.” Lucky points at Nook and Axe.

Then they look worried…

“Has there been an Merica or a Spirit here?” Strike asks nervously.

They all look at him questioningly.

“A FUCKED UP PSYCHO OF A SANS AND A GHOSTLY FLOATING PAPYRUS HEAD!?” Lucky informs.

They all looked puzzled but shook their heads no.

“Thank yer lucky stars. Keep the machine off.” Strike warns.

Soon they swap their attires with each other. Lucky revelling being back in his suit while Strike seems to miss what he was wearing.

The machine is ready as Sans motions them to get ready to head back.

Lucky then approaches Blue and places a hand on his shoulder. Leaning his skull in with a wry smile.

“Take good care of our soulmate here and we will take good care of ours back… home.” Lucky says with a shy smile still clasping Blue’s shoulder.

With a pat on Blue’s shoulder Lucky then walks to join his brother as the light of the machine begins to get brighter, about to send them both back where they belonged.

“Soulmate?” Blue questions making both Lucky and Strike falter.

As the whirring got louder Lucky let out a string of curses before.

“ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN LIVING WITH YOUR SOULMATE THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME AND YOU NEVER KNEW!!!? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL…” His rant is cut off as the machine sucks them back to their world.

All the skeletons look at one another and begin blushing.

Except Axe.

He laughs and they all look at him.

“What? Explains a lot don’t it?” He smirks then leaves the others to ponder on it. Then blush even more as they had noticed that they did indeed seem to gravitate towards you.

[ptersparkers]

who is harley maybank?

summary: harley maybank, born harley summers, finds her quiet life in a small californian town turned upside down when she realizes she has two long lost older brothers. as told from the perspective of harley. 

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: this is a side project. i was messing around with ideas for season two and then thought....what if we got to know more about jj’s backstory and what if i wrote about it? this won’t necessarily follow the obx tmieline -- i’m borrowing characters but that’s pretty much it. jj’s 18 in this story. he will make an appearance. 

this is a limited series. 

WHO IS HARLEY MAYBANK? 

WHO IS JESSE MAYBANK? 

Harley Maybank never quite fit in just right.

Some might’ve said she was a carefree spirit who jumped from person to person, yearning to experience a life different than her own. Some might’ve said she was too reckless and wore her heart on her sleeve, ready for it to be broken over and over again before she learned how to rebuild herself.

It always caught her off guard to know that people her age wanted to settle down in the small town they grew up in, never having the desire to explore beyond the city lines. Harley always felt like she was living her life on the edge of her seat, constantly pulling herself back from the cliff’s edge before jumping too quickly. Perhaps that was what made people so drawn to Harley; her effervescent personality combined with the motivation to leave the quiet town that never satisfied her hunger for knowledge.

People were quick to make judgements about people who knew the future they wanted and Harley was no exception. She was young, perhaps too young, to know what she wanted out of life but the first step in discovering what that is was leaving the town of Mill Valley, California, and exploring different corners of the world before deciding which life for her. Harley was reckless with her feelings, pushing her heart to the limit and latching onto the feeling of the light on her face so she could taste the freedom of leaving.

The residents of Mill Valley would argue everyone who grew up there knew each other by first and last name, and knew everyone in town. From kindergarten to the local community college, the tight knit community prided themselves in being sheltered in their safe haven that never seemed to welcome nor encourage locals to leave. In summary, everybody knew each other.

But nobody, including Harley, really knew who she was.

Up until a month ago, Harley was born to a single mother and never knew who her biological father was. She could always tell she was the odd one out as it didn’t take her long to realize her friends had a matching set of parents and Harley could feel the distance between her life and everyone else’s when she’d come to arrive at sleepovers with only her mother in tow.

Marisol Summers was strong-willed, willing to sacrifice her livelihood for Harley without thinking twice. The woman raised Harley with nothing but her wits and morals, teaching the young girl about independence and that womanhood is whatever she wanted it to be. The small suburban town that never seemed to be home was home when Harley and Marisol were together, laughing at television ads and watching films late into the night.

From a young age, young Harley had a future brighter than anyone who grew up in Mill Valley. She was always eager to step off of the curb despite her mother’s warnings and color the white walls of her elementary school’s classroom, much to the dismay of her teachers. Marisol could recall all of the parent-teacher meetings but always stood by Harley’s eagerness to be challenged intellectually. 

The teenage girl never felt like she had a core group of friends she could rely on to embark on late night adventures of spontaneous trips to the beach. She was a free-floater, drifting between people, befriending anyone who’d befriend her. Harley wasn’t afraid to strike up a conversation with strangers in the supermarket checkout line or help lost tourists who were passing through. The girl was a light in the darkest tunnel and everyone could see it. Everyone except for Harley. 

The rambunctious teenager sought more from life than meek conversations with people she’d never dream of being around. Her passions and interests were vast and numerous, unlike her peers who seemed interested in marijuana and alcohol. Harley’s love for life exceeded her love for the town she grew up in, which would always be part of her, but not who she would grow to be.

But her world was turned upside down when her mother sat her down when she came home from school one afternoon. Marisol, with an expression Harley couldn’t quite make out, asked her to sit on the stool of the kitchen’s island and to not interrupt as she spoke.

“You have a brother,” Marisol spoke, finally. She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist and avoided Harley’s gaze. “He called me about a month ago.”

“You have a son?” Harley asked in confusion. Marisol shook her head.

“No,” she said quickly. “Your biological father, Luke, and I met on that island in North Carolina about a year before I had you.” Harley nodded, already having known this about Marisol. “You know how I was back then. Young, careless, not ready to have a child.” Marisol cupped Harley’s cheek in her hand. “But happy you came nonetheless.

“What I didn’t know was he had a son when he was much younger,” she explained. “Seventeen, or so. The mother left him and took their son to Sweden where he was raised until moving to New York a while ago. She passed away recently and the details are hazy, but his name’s Jesse and he’d like to get to know you.”

Harley sat in silence for what seemed like a century, processing the influx of information that surprised her to no end. Her entire life was built around the closeness of family, despite having only her mother and a few aunts, uncles, and grandparents from her mother’s side she didn’t see very often. The prospect of getting to know a side of her family, her father’s side, after being in the dark for sixteen years was both exciting and horrifying.

Beads of sweat decorated her forehead and she wiped them away hastily. Her jacket felt too heavy and she took it off, setting it aside haphazardly on the counter. Marisol looked at her daughter with an unreadable expression, which made Harley uneasy.

“I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to,” she said. “But from what I could tell, he sounds legitimate. Told me about the Outer Banks and everything I could remember seventeen years ago.”

“Do you know anything more about this ‘Jesse’ guy?” Harley asked.

“He was born in North Carolina before moving to Sweden when he was two years old,” she explained. “He lived there before moving to England for college, then New York for work. From what I can tell, he’s pretty established with his own venture capitalist firm in the States. I did some digging after he called me and he’s pretty legitimate.”

“Jeez,” Harley said. “How old is this guy?”

“In his thirties,” said Marisol. “The reason why he knows we exist is because of a friend of his mother’s who kept tabs on your father up until his mother’s death.”

“Sweden, huh?” Harley asked rhetorically. “He sounds like he lived a pretty good life.”

Marisol chuckled. “Yeah, but I can only imagine how hard it fell when he realized he had a younger sister.”

Harley was quiet. The sound of the clock ticking was apparent and signified how long she’d been thinking about her family, the side she never knew, and all the things she would’ve said to her father if she knew who he was. What would he be like? Was he still alive? Does he have his own family now, and if so, what were they like? Were they still living in the Outer Banks?

“It’s kind of scary, isn’t it?” Harley asked.

“A little,” Marisol confessed. “I was a bit skeptical at first but he explained his knowledge of the Outer Banks and, honey, he sounded desperate for him to believe me.”

“Do you?”

“I’m sure of it. I don’t think he’d oppose a DNA test either.”

“Do you think I should talk to him?”

“Only if you want,” Marisol said. She handed Harley a piece of scrap paper with a phone number on it. “That’s his number, Harls. Jesse said to give him a call, day or night, and to take your time.”

“But you admit that everything about this sounds weird, right?” Harley asked. Marisol nodded slowly. 

“Oh, definitely,” she said. “It’s weird if a random guy calls you and says he wants to get to know your sixteen-year-old daughter, but I did some digging on my own and was able to connect with Grace, someone who knows my family and Jesse’s.” 

“And?” 

“And what he said checked out,” she explained. “Apparently, Grace kept tabs on Luke after Jesse’s mother left him, and there are more details about financial compensation that I can’t wrap my head around, but she found out about you when you were young.”

“This Grace person isn’t messing around, is she?” 

“From what I know, Jesse comes from an important family in Sweden, the Nystroms. His mother was heir to a Swedish textiles company and it was scandalous news when she ran away to North Carolina to be with Luke.” Marisol stood momentarily to reach for a glass of water before sitting down once again.

“And Grace?” 

“I spoke with her too,” Marisol replied. “I got to know her because I wanted to know this wasn’t a scam.”

“Imagine that,” Harley mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Grace is from another prominent family in Sweden and has been family-friends with the Nystroms since the dawn of their business partnership, I think,” said Marisol. “From what I understand, the Nystroms had asked Grace’s family to keep tabs on Luke as a favor, which is why Grace found out about you.”

“Why didn’t they want to reach out to us?” Harley asked, heart dropping. 

“You know how the rich are,” Marisol replied with a pitiful laugh. “It wouldn’t look good for their image if people knew the heir to a multibillion-dollar company eloped with a small town American to North Carolina. Truthfully, I don’t think there’s much either of them could’ve done.” Marisol paused to collect her thoughts before speaking. “I spent so much time looking for Luke and trying to put the pieces together with no luck and then Grace calls me to tell me Luke’s last name is Maybank.” 

Maybank.

For sixteen years, Harley had known the truth about her father and Marisol’s escapades that transitioned her from a careless post-undergraduate student to a responsible mother. Their bond was held together by the fundamental truth regarding the mystery about who her biological father was, and for the longest time, Harley felt incomplete not knowing her last name. As far as she knew, she was Harley Summers from California. But her biological name was Harley Maybank.

Her mind was racing and she couldn’t seem to focus on one thing or another. Her name, the only aspect about her that she knew was her identity, wasn’t what she thought it was. The surname carried a burden on her shoulders; she had longed to know her biological father’s side of the family and spent the majority of her life fantasizing about the first words she would hear him say. But Harley never seriously thought that she’d ever know who she was or where she came from and the notion that her mother spoke to Harley’s biological brother was making her mind race as if a speeding car couldn’t stop for a red light. 

“Maybank,” Harley muttered. “That’s a little weird.” 

“Isn’t it?” Marisol asked. Harley let out a confused laugh. 

“I mean, I’ve gone by Harley Summers my entire life and I didn’t think I’d ever learn my father’s last name. It’s a little comforting and horrifying at the same time.” 

“I bet,” Marisol replied. “I mean, I’ve had a month to think about this. I genuinely thought it was a scam or a prank call until Jesse was able to send documents about Luke’s whereabouts until the night I met him.” 

“Wow,” Harley said, widening her eyes. “Grace and her family kept that much information?” 

“I suppose it was important,” Marisol said with a shrug. “Grace didn’t say, but I’m almost positive the Nystroms paid Luke for his silence. Jesse’s mother spent two years in North Carolina and it’s hard to keep who you are a secret for that long.” 

“Still,” Harley said, sighing dramatically, “In my lifetime, I never thought I’d be wrapped up in a conspiracy.” 

“I’m pretty sure Grace was hinting at the fact that the Nystroms would’ve been scared if the public knew about your existence too,” Marisol added. “While you probably wouldn’t have inherited their fortune since you’re not technically related to the family, I can only imagine how Jesse would’ve behaved if he knew he had a sister. But what do I know, right?” 

“Mom,” Harley said, looking at the older woman. “You’ve always been perceptive and I learned a long time ago that you’re never wrong.” Marisol laughed. “I’m being totally serious. I can’t really wrap my head around this either.” 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Marisol reassured. “Jesse’s an adult and has an established life already. You’re young and barely off to college. I wouldn’t want you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or jeopardize your future. But if it makes you feel better, I trust Jesse. We’ve gotten to know each other through phone calls and emails for the past month.” 

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Harley said cautiously. Marisol's eyes softened and she reached out to cup Harley’s cheek. 

“My baby’s growing up,” she said lovingly. “It’s weird to think I was telling you bedtime stories not too long ago.” 

“Yeah,” Harley replied softly, “those days seem easier in hindsight, doesn’t it?” Marisol nodded and Harley stood from her seat. “Is it okay if I go to my room? I just want to digest this for a while.” 

“Of course,” said Marisol. She pointed at the slip of paper with Jesse’s phone number written on it. “Here’s Jesse’s number in case you feel like calling him but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harley said, giving Marisol a quick hug before retreating to her bedroom. 

For three weeks, Harley debated on telling her closest friends about her dilemma and what to do next, but she knew none of them would offer valuable advice nor give her the courage to do what she thought was right. On the third Friday of the month of March, when the weather was warmer than the previous day, Harley took note of the colorful leaves on the trees surrounding her apartment complex and reflected on the idea that the seasons would always change and so would she, but not if she waited for something to happen. Wordlessly, she marched into her bedroom, noticing her mother had yet to come home, and dialed the phone number that sat on her desk untouched, hearing a deep voice answer the phone. 

“Hello?”

***

i included my obx taglist because jj will make an appearance.

***

taglist: 

@jellyfishbeansontoast @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @simpingforrudypankowonly @hi-my-name-is-riley  @antoheartit @runway-to-my-aid @kayleypaige2233 @jroseron @mahleeyuh @decap-quadrant @deviouscharitos @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @wasabiwitteks @waywardbabie @parkerpetertingle @cheshirecat107 @ballerinafairyprincess @underratedmisfit @gardengirl-18 @letsgofullkook @thankfulfortimmy @voguesir @madzleigh01 @suhoey @yeslifeofateen @spn-marvel-nerd @outerbongs @cleverandwitty @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @scottish-sim @lonely--witch @thin-spiration-for-me @britnicole11 @Jessica-1120 @ilovejjmaybank @goodgodimaweirdperson @beckester @louiesfineline @jamielinnsmith @asmallhobbitruinedmylife @whosxthat @ollyoxenfrees @thesadestsadperson @saphira1412 @leilanixx @serpent-baby @a-daydreamers-day @sofianunes10 @sleep-i-ness @shxwarmq @fandomngirl @nightxshadex201 @eternalqueensworld @shreckluver7 @fourfearsofdivergent @stfukie @lauren-sun13 @brithedemonspawn @pogue-h @mfmaddyperez 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@unknown-user84 @jooorrdd @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @unfortunatekiwitrash @celestialmaybank @kayleea122 @mynmuses @trashmouthpogues @natalie-kate-98 @maraudersandco @millssssonline @vaswn @lindysti @casper17 @babyybesson @itsagurl @everyonesababe @kaitieskidmore1 @aesthetic-lyssa @crispywolftreeflower @yesp0ny @broken-jj @beth-winchester21 @diverdcwn @cozyshawn @pcterparxer @comphersjost @bbygrlsyd @lovelynerdytraveler @obbx-tings @m-a-d-e-l-i-n-e-e @curlybrownhairedboys @jjshands @rachelfizzyhizzy @outsider-at-hogwarts @Magcongirl52 @drewsstarkey @chocolaeth @damnobx @hoeforshows @lemur46 @honestlywtfisgoingon @beth-winchester21 @bruhjustdont @iknowwhatihavefound-blog @jillianwritesstories @sleepyhollands @etherealtony @sofianunes10 @slytherinquill @invocacao-dos-unicornios @coloradogirl07 @no-shxt-sherl @maybankobx @jjmaybankg @itsallblueblackwhereimfrom @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @jjbanks @that-one-weird-fangirl2020 @rewindlr @beautyandthebleh @kenziemcnicol @dirtyskittlewater @luvbabyjade @p0gues4l @sunfl0w3rvol6 @theloveofpeterparker @ebonyyyy-e @niagaratears @alilybush @julesclues​ @aleeciamackenzie @outrbanxs @trinnwazheree @fangirlika @hotel-colson​ @talksoprettyjjx @106sami @ohbabycal @takisss @spam-to-follow @toloveortobeinlove @alexis-marrt022 @lovingonshawn @drw0301bieber​ @diverrdown @finelinebitch @amortiff @velvetxvignette @emptycanvasposts​ @kcxxlove @its-fun-to-fantasize-4​ @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @Sugarglohss @strawberrydonkey @heavenlymama @cxrlyrxe​ @thotbutpurple​ @ibookofstars @kayladownunder @jjaybank @cyrrusmreadings @omigodbeckylookatherbutt @obx-imagines-07 @lussuria-zephyr @yeahilljustgo @morganoddwalker @junisfics @trash-can-kristin @hippyexplosions @June549.  

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 18

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Irony! My old friend! You having been so glaringly obvious for so long!

First < Previous > Next

--------

Bruce stares blankly at the report in front of him, an alert pops up on the Bat-computer. Joker is attacking somewhere downtown. He tries to convince himself to get his gear, when seconds later Red Hood pops up in the area.

“Jason can handle it,” He mutters to himself, but pulls up the live feed anyway.

He had thought with Selina it would be different. That if they had children they would raise them together. Have some semblance of a normal family. Little did he know that they could have already had that.

He feels cold rage wash through him, so focuses on the screen in front. There's the Joker standing with a masked figure. For a fearful second he thinks it's Songbird. But no the costume isn’t right, more his style then Songbirds.

Is there another vigilante?! He thinks, looking over to the alert feeding in new information automatically. No it’s a meet and greet for MDC and MCD. Joker just couldn't wait for the concert then.

It’s not that he doesn't see Selina’s point. To have them be involved in things like this would be terrifying. He already puts his children in danger. He had already lost Jason. What if I mess this up too.

The  Joker is now in an elevator talking to the boy who clearly isn’t listening. In fact he’s suspiciously calm for being held at gunpoint. He’ll have to look into it. Then the camera falls and the screen goes to black, he switches to the news feed but they won’t have anything for a while yet. Hacking into the security cameras doesn't even cross preoccupied his mind.

Technically he has already put them in danger. They’ve been nothing but stalked and attacked since arriving in Gotham. All because a rumour that their his children, he couldn't imagine the danger they would be in if everyone found out it was true. The rest of his kids could handle themselves, they were trained to,  but even Barbra…

Perhaps it was best if he stayed out of their lives.

“Is everything alright Master Bruce?” Alfred breaks him out of his spiral.

“Yes, Alfred everything is fine,” Bruce sits up straight, as if that was proof.

“Really, because you seemed to have not noticed that young man has been thrown off the roof,”

“What!” He turns back to the screen to see the boy in free fall, he moves to take action a split second before Jason swoops in to catch them.

Bruce sags back into his chair. He shouldn't have been so distracted. He could have helped before, now he’s likely scarred for life. Literally if he knows the Joker.

“Something appears to be on your mind Master Bruce,” Alfred repeats, pouring the tea.

“Some new information has come to light,” Bruce dances around the subject, “Selina has been hiding something very important,”

“Well I should hope you are referring to the twins and not some worthless jewel,”

“What!” Bruce chokes on the tea he was drinking, “How did you know?”

“Master Bruce, you are meant to be the detective out of the two of us,” Alfred passes him a napkin, refilling his cup.

“So in other words you're not going to tell me,” Bruce sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“Let’s just say you have similarities that are hard to miss,” Bruce doesn't look up, “Perhaps too similar is some aspects,”

It is said in such a way Bruce is sure Alfred somehow read his thoughts.

“I can’t bring them into this life,” Bruce rests his head in his hands.

“What's the difference between them and everyone else who runs through the city?” Alfred slides the tea cup closer, in his constant mission to get him to drink more tea than coffee.

“They're happy , happy without me,” Bruce takes the cup, leaning back in his seat.

“You asked them this?” Alfred challenges, clearly setting up a trap to pull him into another lecture.

“No,” Bruce answers, too tired to try and avoid the trap.

“Perhaps Master Bruce, you should try having a conversation rather than assuming you know what they want,” Bruce could be sure he practiced this speech before hand, “Instead of trying to justify reasons to push them away, you could actually try to get to know them,”

“I’ll only put them in danger, they’re better off without me,” It’s true, Selina was right all along, she should have never even told him.

“That might be the case before they knew you, however, do you really think they will want to live the rest of their lives without knowing you?” Selina did tell them didn’t she? how long had they known, had they ever wanted to even meet him? “Or perhaps a better question, would you like to spend the rest of your life not knowing them?”

“It would be selfish of me,” His selfishness never led to any good.

“It would be more selfish to deny them the chance because of what you think is best,” Alfred knows he’s right, as he takes the untouched cup from his hands, “I would certainly find it more selfish, having more rooms to clean that on one ever sleeps in,”

With that Alfred leaves, taking the tea set with him. He was right, as always. It would be better to ask them. He wasn't sure about setting up rooms just yet. He has a lot of explaining to do for everyone else.

“This is the worst thing that could of possibly happened,” Marion groans into the hotel bed.

“I know getting thrown off a building can be traumatic,” Marinette lets the Kwamis out of her backpack, knowing full well that's not what Marion was talking about.

“I don't care about that!” Marion sits up, glaring at her like she was mad, “My crush watched an embarrassing video of me and now he knows I like him!”

“Oh the horror,” Marinette opens the closet which she had set up as a little room for Tikki.

“Imagine if it was Adrien,” Marion spits, glaring up through the pillows

“Oh I would die,” Marinette answers honestly, closing the door giving the Kwamis an opportunity to avoid Marion’s sulking,  “But you would also be making fun of me, so…”

“Yeah you’re right,” He flops down on the bed, “Ugh just kill me,”

“As much as I would like a room to myself, I would prefer it not to be a jail cell,” Marinette comes to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Like you don’t have ways to make a body disappear,” Marion mutters into the covers, but Marinette has practice at deciphering the muffled gibberish.

“Mari, if I did we wouldn’t have to deal with Lila anymore,” Technically she has had many opportunities to get rid of Lila, but Marion needs some humour.

“I would rather deal with Lila than this,” Marion mutters, and Marinette immediately calls bullshit.

“Really?” Nothing is worse than having to deal with Lila, not even Hawkmoth.

“... no,” And especially not a little embarrassment.

“Exactly, so it can’t be that bad,” She shifts onto the bed more firmly.

“Are sure I can’t use your miraculous,” Marion turns to look at her pleadingly, “I could use some good luck,”

“You think your babydoll eyes work on me?” Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“It’s worth a try,” He flops back down, before shooting back up, “Hey! What if I used the Rabbit miraculous!”

“What!” Marinette yells, almost slipping off the bed.

“I could go back and make sure the meet and greet isn’t attacked!” He has a sparkle in his eye that tells Marinette he thinks its a wonderful idea.

“That wouldn’t change the fact he knows,” She tries to shut it down before he gets too-more excited.

“Your right I should go back and stop the interview!” Marion leaps up, reaching for the bag.

“No!” Marinette wrestles him down, trying to stop him from getting to the miracle box.

As they fight, not as seriously as they could but still using super strength, they fall off the bed with a yelp. This is of course when a portal opens at the end of the bed.

“Bunnix!” Marinette yells, still holding Marion in a choke hold, even if he is now frozen.

“This should really go without saying but please do not use the miraculous to go back in time to stop embarrassing yourself in front of your crush,” Bunnix steps out of the portal, fixing Marion with a hard stare.

“See you say it like that and it does nothing to convince me,” Marion tries to break out of her hold.

“Wait, would it really mess up the future?” Marinette keeps her hold on Marion.

“You have no idea,” Bunnix says seriously, with a sigh Marion relaxes and Marinette lets him go.

“Soooo, how are you?” Marion asks, after a long awkward pause.

“Now or in the future?” Bunnix has a flash of playfulness in her eye, that has them both relaxing.

“Well you are here now so it would technically be now anyway,” Marinette mutters, climbing back onto the bed, “… wait not supposed to know anything about the future right?”

“You got it,” Bunnix gives her finger guns with a wink.

“I really feel like I don’t,” She sighs, sinking into the bed.

“Well how are you now then, you don’t really talk to us much anymore,” Marion asks, still sitting on the floor quite comfortably, “Or anyone for that matter,”

“Sorry I’m going through a bit of a; I’m going to be Bunnix I’m better than all of you, phase,” Future Alix explains, leaning against the wall, “Don’t worry I’ll get over it,”

“Is there anything we can do?” Marinette still feels concern for her friend that has pulled away from everyone.

“Just keep being yourselves,” Bunnix smiles, adding mysteriously, “all of them,”

“Right, you know about the identity madness,” Marinette falls back onto the bed.

“You have no idea,” Bunnix repeats, smirking.

“Alright that's getting frustrating,” Marion huffs, crossing his arms.

“Don’t worry you’ll find out in time,” Bunnix ruffles his hair, not that it makes much difference he hasn't fixed it since getting thrown of the roof, “That reminds me, there is a message from the future I’m allowed to give you, here,”

“What’s this?” Marion takes the scrap of paper from her, Marinette standing.

“You’ll-”

“I’ll find out,” Marion interrupts, getting another smirk, “got it,”

Bunnix doesn't say anything more, walking back through the portal with a salute. Marion stands up unfurling the note. Marinette reads over his shoulder.

Sorry for being a jerk ♡

“... What's this supposed to mean?” Marion looks to her for answers.

“No idea,” She sits back on the bed, having hoped it would be some key to Hawkmoth's identity.

“Maybe it's your convoluted way of apologising for stealing the top bunk,” Marion grins sitting next to her, “Knew you would regret it one day,”

“I did not steal the top bunk,” She swats half heartedly at him, as he easily dodges “I won that game fair and square,”

“I doubt it,” Marion goes to fold up the note.

“So be it,” Marinette takes the note reading over it again.

“... So I can’t travel back in time,” Marion lies back in the bed.

“You shouldn't travel back in time,” Marinette scolds, still not making sense of the note.

“Let me just point out that since Bunnix showed up there is an alternate timeline where you let me do it,” Marion’s dangling legs kick at her slightly.

“What on earth was I thinking?” She folds up the note into a heart, partly to see if it revealed some hidden message, why else would there be a heart?

“Oh my poor, dear brother, if only there was some way I could lessen his suffering,” Marion recites theatrically, in a terrible impression of her.

“Careful now, I can always learn how to hide a body,” She warns, waiting for the note to do something, it doesn't.

She keeps trying to decipher the note. Starting a mental countdown for when Marion explodes.

“Nette! What am I supposed to do!” Right on time, “The worst possible thing happened, he found out I like him,”

“Isn’t that the best thing?” Marinette asks absentmindedly, reaching for her backpack holding the miracle box.

“No it’s the worst,” Marion pouts, falling back on the bed.

“Ok, think of it this way,” She tucks the note into a side compartment of the miracle box, “Is this the most embarrassing thing that could possibly happen?”

“Surprisingly, not helping ,” Marion glares, she just glares back, “Yes, yes it is,”

“Then you can’t possibly embarrass yourself more,” He would probably prove her wrong, but that's besides the point

“So what your saying is...” Marion trails off, getting lost in his thoughts.

“-Go for it,” She finishes.

“Hmm, not a bad idea,” Marion hums, swinging to sit back up.

“Of course not, it’s mine,” She tucks the miracle box safely away, planning to come back to the note later.

“Maybe I should tell Adrien you like him,” Marinette whips around to see his cheekily grin.

“Don't you dare!” She pounces, trying to pull him into another choke hold, “I won't even bother hiding the body!”

“I am such a jerk!” Jason says, yet again, and Roy is so close to just leaving him to talk himself in circles, “I just left , he probably thought I was mad about it!”

“The biggest jerk in history,” He agrees, fiddling with the dial of his newest project.

“ Roy ,”

“Sorry, is this not the ‘agree with everything I say’ kind of rant?” He doesn't bother to look up, he knows Jason is pacing around the living room, he has been for the last hour.

“No, you know those are mainly reserved for Bruce,” Jason says absentmindedly,  Roy can feel him passing behind him.

“Right, right,” Roy waves him off, with blowtorch in hand, “But Jason we’ve been over this ten times already,”

“What if he decided he doesn't like me since the interview?”

“Oh I see it's actually the ‘ignore Roy’ kind of rant, got it,” He sighs, welding two pieces of metal together.

“What if he doesn't like me because of this ,”

“Then it would be the absolute worst job of flirting I have ever seen,” And he’s seen and tried some pretty bad tactics, “Really takes a special talent for someone to actually like you and to just completely shoot yourself in the foot,”

“I need to explain,” Jason decides, likely not hearing a word he just said.

“You’re going to go up to him in full gear and awkwardly explain that you suck at flirting,” Yeah that rarely worked well on civilians.

“What else am I meant to do?” Oh so he is listening.

“I don’t know, get to know him better?” Roy shrugs, a piece falling off his contraption, “Apologise when you aren't going to scare him off,”

“And how am I meant to get to know him better Roy? next time his life is threatened?” Roy shrugs ‘why not’ as he tries to fit the piece back on, “Hey I know were getting shot at but I just wanted to ask you favourite color,”

“Red, probably,” Roy guesses, the piece falling off again.

“ Roy ,” This time he does look up, but doesn't dare mention to Jason he is blushing the same shade, “How am I supposed to get to know him, it's not like we have any other connection,”

“Easy just figure out his secret identity,” Roy knows he can do it, hell he could probably do it.

“I’m not going to do that,” Jason sighs, sitting down on the couch with noticeably less scorch marks.

“Alright then, suffer,” Roy shrugs, finally getting the piece in place.

“...I need to apologise,” Jason decides, adding “Today,”

“Ugh, you're going to find some overly convoluted bat-like-way of apologising aren't you,” The piece comes loose a little bit and Roy decides it's not that important anyway.

“Probably,”

“Was this really the best way you could think of apologising?” Marion asks, he had found a note hidden away in the miracle box a while back, it having finally clicked who sent it.

“You kept my note,” Jason smiles looking up from the book he was reading.

“Of course I did, I have to send it back to past me didn't I?” Marion sits next to Jason, careful of his bruised side.

“I wrote that a while ago, looks the exact same,” Jason puts down the book and picks up the note.

“It’s time travel, I’m not taking any chances,” Nope, Marion had learnt his lesson about that a long time ago.

“Of course,” Jason smirks, leaning in closer, “So that's the only reason you kept the note?”

“Well,” They had kept it to see if it was some key to Hawkmoth's identity, which seems kind of ridiculous now but they had been grasping at threads, “I did think it was pretty cute, once I knew it was you,”

He wasn't about to admit how long it took to figure out. Then again Marion didn’t think he felt the same way. He looks over to Jason, how wrong he was

“How was it not obvious it was me?” Jason asks, a little teasingly, “I added a heart,”

“Yeah that kind of confused me,” Marion frowns, turning the note over in his hand.

“What? I wanted to make it obvious I was flirting,” Jason wraps an arm around him, Marion quickly turning to him.

“That was flirting?!”

“You didn’t know?!”

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

Taglist:

@blackmagicforever @zeneralla @technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam @the-one-woman-army @rosesandsailboats

[nanoland]

title: Compass Rose 

series: Lucifer (TV) 

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve

summary: In which Mazikeen exercises her renowned patience. 

warnings: Lucifer is kind of a dick in this. Not intentionally; he’s just young and colossally self-centered. 

 Also on Ao3! 

0 

“You. Demon. What’s your name?” asks the Morningstar, looking bored and depressed, as usual.

She straightens up, brimming with nerves and excitement, feeling her acidic blood bubble happily because he’s so handsome! And he’s talking to her! Her siblings will shriek with jealousy when they hear of this. “Mazikeen, my liege.”

“Mazikeen,” he repeats, mispronouncing it. “Great. Maze, do something about… all that, would you? It’s dreadfully grating.”

He gestures to the sea of damned, miserable human souls milling around the base of his throne, calling up to him for help or mercy.

“Yes, my liege,” she says, her bright mind already hard at work planning the next few millennia of punishment.

 0 

“Maze, is there a letter from Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen is now four hundred years old and in all that time, not a single letter has arrived in Hell, from Amenadiel or anyone else. Regardless, her handsome king asks every week.

It’s fine. She’s far too mature and cunning to feel even the slightest scrap of envy towards some pompous old angel she’s never even met, regardless of how obviously Lucifer loves him.

Regardless of how obvious it is that he loves no one in Hell half as much.

“No, my liege.”

“Hmm. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him, then. Brothers – who needs ‘em?”

She nods. She herself has many, many brothers, and sisters, and siblings who are neither or both, and she certainly doesn’t need them.

(Sometimes she longs for them, especially when she’s weary from the years and years dedicated to building and securing Lucifer’s kingdom, but she never needs. Needing is for the weak.)

It occurs to her that that king might be cheered by stories of Tradiusis, her most treasured and most useless brother, who is prone to chatting with the damned and asking them about all the silly human indulgences they enjoyed in life, like movies and theme parks and hot dogs. Fool that he is, the mere thought of him always brings a smile to her face.

But she decides against it, suspecting that if she were to begin telling Lucifer about her family, he’d get that same dull, faintly irritated expression she sees every time she reads him a report about the number of new arrivals and how various parts of Hell will need to be restructured to accommodate them all.

(She wonders what will happen when Hell is full – does he have a plan? Is she expected to have a plan?)

(How long, exactly, are they supposed to keep doing this?)

(Surely this can’t be all they were made for?)  

 0  

“Maze, get me a drink, would you?”

Mazikeen is Lucifer’s right hand, his bodyguard, the highest-ranked demon in Hell, named the Lady of Pain, the Whirlwind, and the Blood Dancer by her peers and underlings.

Pouring drinks is… new to her.

But this is what he wants; this club, this loud music, these inebriated humans constantly demanding attention and entertainment, constantly needing to be managed. And he’s her king.

She pours him his drink and listens to him play the piano, until some wretch attempts to grope her and loses two fingers.

 0 

Running a nightclub is, it turns out, complicated.

There are all sorts of rules and regulations regarding what can and cannot be done inside it.

At one point, Lucifer decides it would be fun to have white tigers roaming the dance floor. After a few days spent looking into that option, she has to explain that they may to have settle for waitresses dressed as tigers. He pouts like it’s her fault and goes back to the piano.

She’s also not allowed to kill anyone, which is, honestly, ridiculous. Mazikeen is an ancient being, a warrior nigh unparalleled, with centuries of experience contending with the worst the human race has to offer, and every single night she endures treatment from at least one of Lucifer’s guests that, even to her vast, reasonable, and patient mind, clearly warrants swift annihilation.

If murder is, indeed, illegal, how do all the mortal women in this city who serve drinks cope?

“You block it out, I guess,” says Suzy, a waitress with thick red hair and tired eyes, after Mazikeen has had to save her yet again from a patron with wandering hands (and now broken hands). “You know, just… don’t let it get to you. Grow a thick skin.”

Mazikeen considers the half of her body that has no skin whatsoever and snickers inappropriately. Then she gifts Suzy one of her knives.

 0 

Chloe gasps. “Maze! No! Absolutely not!”

“Why?” she asks, annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“I can’t just torture a suspect to get information, Maze. It’s wrong.”

Mazikeen considers saying: You already torture people. You lock them up in tiny boxes until their minds break and their lives are utterly ruined. How is that different? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: You let Lucifer violate peoples’ innermost selves to obtain information. How is that better? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: I don’t want to be good. I don’t care about being good. So why do I seem to put so much more thought into how to be good than you do? I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t.

Instead, Mazikeen rolls her eyes and says nothing.

 0 

“Maze! No! What were you thinking?” cries Linda, rushing over to the cradle. “You can’t give that to a baby!”

She snatches away Mazikeen’s present; a blade, small and silver, just right for tiny hands, the same blade Mazikeen herself received from her favourite sister on her fourth birthday. It has tasted the blood of over a hundred enemies.

Charlie starts to cry and Linda puts the blade aside so she can pick him up and comfort him.

“Children need to be able to protect themselves,” Mazikeen insists.

“No, Maze. Children need to be protected.”

“No one protected me.”

Linda doesn’t say: Exactly. Why would I want my son to be anything like you?

Because Linda is kind.

But Mazikeen is perceptive and she sees it in her friend’s eyes all the same.

 0 

“So then, then it turns out that Jon Snow is actually Daenarys Targaryen’s cousin, right, which makes him – oh no! – a rival contender for the Iron Throne, and…”

“Ugh,” Mazikeen groans, cutting Ella off. “I thought this was a show about dragons! Why does it waste so much time on people either fucking or killing their relatives?”

She laughs at Mazikeen’s exaggerated annoyance. “It’s not just about dragons. There’s a lot of stuff about politics and war and, yeah, fucked-up family dynamics. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons it grips me so much. My own family’s always got a ton of drama going on, too. I mean – no incest. Not that I’m aware of. But you know all about my brothers.”

Mazikeen is about to ask what the dragons look like – whether the show’s version bears any resemblance to the beasts she’s ridden into battle – when Ella tilts her head sideways and squints at her. “Huh. Now that I think about it… I’ve told you all about my brothers but I’ve never asked anything about your family. That was shitty of me! Can I ask now? Or is it, like, one of those things you don’t talk about? Like where you’re from and how you met Lucifer?”

Fiddling with a lock of her hair – it’s straight and black today – Mazikeen says, “I don’t mind talking about it. Just… most people don’t care.”

Ella frowns, briefly (cutely, curse her). “Well, I wanna know! You got any brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“A lot. I’m not actually sure exactly how many there are now.”

“Oh, right. Gotcha. Are you close to any of them?”

“Not these days. But when we were young, we were pretty tight-knit. Didn’t really have anyone besides each other.”

Ella asks her more questions and though she has to keep her answers extremely vague, Mazikeen finds that she likes talking about her home and her childhood. Prolonged exposure to the human world has begun to make her feel insubstantial; a tool, a disguise, a thing without roots or history. Lucifer’s been no help with that, for he’s only ever known her as his servant (and, sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, his friend, by virtue of the fact that friendship with someone who works for you – who can do nothing but work for you – requires no tedious emotional labour whatsoever).

It’s nice to remember that she has, in fact, been other things. That she could, perhaps, be other things in the future.

 0 

“So,” Dan slurs, hunched over his beer. “You got whores… hordes… horns? Thought demons had horns.”

She’s busy applying a fresh coat of candy-pink lipstick to match her powder-blue bob. “Some do. I don’t.”

“Well, that sucks. That’s not fair! You deserve horns. You’re cool, Maze.”

Because that provokes a twinge of genuine affection, she says, “Wanna see what I have got?”

“Hell, yeah!”

He grins drunkenly.

“You need to promise not to scream.”

“Oh – oh, man, is it scary? Is it gross?”

She shows him her true face.

After a moment of owlish blinking, he shrugs and returns to his beer. “Eh. S’not that gross. Lucifer’s grosser. Wanna play pool?”

 0 

Amenadiel presents her with a beautiful black sheath. “I crafted it from my own feathers. It will keep the blade contained until he’s old enough to wield it safely.”

She slides Charlie’s knife into it. “Someone will need to teach him.”

“Who taught you?”

“Me? No one. They just threw us at one another and clapped for whoever survived. But… well. He’s not like me, is he?”

The angel places the sheathed blade down beside Charlie’s stuffed rabbit and plastic truck. “Maybe not now. With any luck, that will change.”

 0 

“Ma-aaze,” Lucifer groans, flopping back in his armchair with his long legs artfully folded and his hand over his eyes. “I’ve had such a tiresome morning. Pour me a drink, would you?”

“Pour it your damn self,” she suggests, standing on his penthouse’s balcony and admiring the view. His throne in Hell was about as tall as this building. From up here, all the little people down below look exactly the same.

He pouts and fetches a glass – and, to her surprise, one for her as well.

 0 

Mazikeen brings an abrupt, efficient end to the bar fight by slamming her palm into an assailant’s solar plexus.

He drops like a ton of bricks, joining the pile of groaning men, broken furniture, and smashed bottles. (Shit; it’s going to take ages to clean all this up. If Lucifer didn’t have infinite money, Lux would have gone bankrupt eight times by now.)

She turns to see Eve staring at her, beautiful mouth hanging open, and braces herself for the “Maze! No!”.

“That was so cool,” Eve breathes, and rushes over to leap into Mazikeen’s arms, only to draw back at the last second. “Oh no! You’re hurt!”

There is, indeed, a small cut on Mazikeen’s left hand.

“Don’t care, doesn’t matter,” says Mazikeen, reaching for her, wanting badly to be kissed.

But Eve drags her into a quiet back room where she applies disinfectant and bandaids with cartoon cats on them.

“I really wanna learn how you did that thing with your elbow,” she chatters, wiping away a few spots of blood with a white handkerchief. “The way his nose just went crunch! – man, it was fantastic.”

“I can teach you. If you like.”

Eve’s dark eyes are fond. “You’re always offering to do something for me – to teach me how to fight, or to carry something, or to protect me. It’s… like, I love it. But you know you don’t have to, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I wanna do stuff for you sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Lucifer was going to take Chloe to a wrestling match but then they had another fight and he’s back to being sad, sooo I stole the tickets out of his jacket. Wanna go?”

“I love you,” says Mazikeen, even though she’s said it five times today. She likes the way it sounds in her mouth. She likes the way it makes Eve’s whole face sparkle.

“I love you too, babe.”

[sparrowwritings]

Final Fantasy 14 Writing Challenge Day Six: Champagne taste, Beer budget

Day Five -- Masterpost -- Day Seven

“Lara.”

“I know, I know. I was stupid and just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“Lara.”

“But like, boy did that shut him up when I asked. Did you see his face?? Priceless.”

“Lara.”

“I shouldn’t be this satisfied about it but oh my gods I’m so pumped I could fight another Lightwarden.”

“Lara, you invited Emet-Selch--you know, the Ascian that’s been bugging us on the First this whole time--to have dinner with us. If we don’t get murdered by him, we’re definitely going to be murdered by Alisaie. After everyone else lectures us to death. The Exarch might even cry. I know he’s all mysterious and such but I get the feeling he definitely would if he found out we invited an enemy to dinner.”

“It should be...well not fine but it should be okay. He keeps saying he won’t work against us and this will prove if he’s even a little bit trustworthy. We just...don’t have to tell anyone about it.”

“HOW? Everyone in the Crystarium knows everyone else and they’ll definitely say something to our friends when they see the Warriors of Darkness having dinner with a tall guy with black clothes, white-and-brown hair and an extra eye on his forehead. It won’t even take a day.”

“And that’s why we have dinner with him in our room. He can teleport anywhere, we can have a very awkward meal, no one finds out and we’re solid.”

“...Our room.” 

“Yes.”

“Where the shades of Ardbert and Gwyneth hang out waiting for us when they’re not wandering because no one can see them except us and they can’t even see each other.”

“......look, you’re as aware of our record for good plans as I am. This isn’t even the worst one I’ve ever come up with.”

“That’s...sadly true.” 

“...It’s okay you can say it’s a bad idea and I can try to come up with a way to say that we changed our mind without insulting him--”

“No, don’t.”

“Huh?”

“You’re right. For sure Emet-Selch’s not telling us everything, but...it’d be nice to know if he means it when he says he wants us to understand his point of view.”

“...Yeah. Even if it didn’t work out so well when we tried that with Emperor Varis.”

“Mmhm. Although, that reminds me...what are we even going to feed him? He used to be an Emperor, he’s probably used to super expensive foods. We’re not exactly flush with gil.”

“I’ll...think of something. Improvisation is key to being a great Culinarian, as Chef Lyngsath says.”

-----

“This is a horrible mistake.” Ardbert leaned against the wooden countertop of the small kitchen of the room that Lara and Roger shared. He really didn’t need to, being intangible to all but Lara herself, but it was one of the few things that made him feel like more than just a shade. Besides which, he needed to showcase just how upset he was.

Lara rolled her eyes as she uncovered a pot and checked on the food inside. “It’s not going to be any less of a mistake the twelfth time you mention it. We just have to see it through.”

“And if Emet-Selch decides, as Ascians are wont to do, to forget about any promises he’s made and just kill you both while you’re at your most vulnerable?” 

“Well then we’ll see that through, too.” She set the lid back down, apparently satisfied with how it looked. “For now, though, I’m just going to focus on getting through dinner without any incidents. How’s the table looking, Roger?”

“It’s fine.” Roger muttered as he poked a finger into one of his ears. “Gwyn’s, uh, letting me know her opinion on our guest but everything’s set.”

Not for the first time, Ardbert felt a flare of emotion burst in his chest. A mixture of fierce pride and overwhelming sadness. For all that he couldn’t touch anything in this state, it seemed like any sort of feelings within himself was all the more intense. Particularly when they involved his sister, Gwyneth. The one other shade that was similarly denied the ability to move onward when his friends had gone where the Oracle of Light had led them.

The one other shade he couldn’t see much less detect, even while they stood in the same room.

Truly fate was set to reject anything close to happiness for him.

Whether it was in response to his expression or something else, Lara snapped her fingers in front of Ardbert’s face a couple of times to get his attention. “Look, just pay attention to what Emet-Selch does and let me know if you notice anything--well, odd’s not the right word because he’s all odd, but anything that might look like he’s about to kill us.” She then directed her voice in the general direction of the dinner table. “Same goes for you and Roger, Gwyneth! If he looks like he’s about to try something, be sure to scream or something.” 

“She’s sulking on the desk chair on the platform, actually, but Gwyn says she heard you the first time.” A snort left Ardbert’s nose before he could stop himself. 

His good humor died with the rapping at the chamber door.

Roger and Lara gave each other a look before he went to answer it. Against the advice of Ardbert (and from context clues, Gywneth too), both of the Warriors of Darkness were dressed in more casual clothing. As if they had set a time to sup with one of their Scion friends and not a being that was directly responsible for the chaos and misery plaguing all fourteen parallel worlds. He stomped over to a better vantage point as the door opened and Emet-Selch entered. 

The man’s pale yellow eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail even as they slid over where the shades were located. They lingered briefly on the platform where the two beds were positioned at opposite corners with the desk set up between them before settling on Roger.  A slimy smirk tugged at his lips that made Ardbert want to smack him. “I see you’ve made do with what the Crystarium could afford to spare.” Every word that dripped out of his mouth had the tang of sarcasm. “There’s nothing quite like what you can find on the Source.”

Instead of taking the argument bait, Roger gave a one-shoulder shrug as he closed the door. “We take what we can get. It’s how adventurers work.” He walked back and offered Emet-Selch one of the actual chairs that had been provided to the Warriors of Darkness before making his way to a stool. The man sat and immediately slouched, crossing one leg over the other while folding his arms. 

“So what you’re saying is that your invitation to dinner was more akin to asking if I’d enjoy whatever vaguely edible scraps you could whip together. Perhaps I should leave before you attempt to poison this body of mine.”

“Yes, please.” Ardbert called out. “And don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out.” Lara bit her lip and hard to keep herself from inappropriately laughing as she carefully plated the meal. Roger suddenly coughed, indicating that Gwyn had a similar comment.

“The invitation was a genuine thing, Emet-Selch.” She said lightly while balancing three dishes in her hands. “You said you wanted us to see your perspective, right? Well,” Lara set a plate in front of the man first. “In my experience, one of the better ways to discuss topics is over food.” She made her way over to the other side of the table and set the far more vegetable-laden plate in front of Roger before sitting down with her own meal. 

“So.” She smiled, but Ardbert could tell it was the kind that merchants used with customers. “We’ll start with pleasantries and see where it goes from there, just like any other person at dinner. And no, nothing is poisoned.”

A tense quiet fell over the table. Instinct more than necessity had Ardbert holding his breath. Eventually, Emet-Selch sat forward in his chair and took a couple of the utensils set out for him. With the ease and grace of one who had broken bread among nobles for decades, he carefully cut a small bite’s worth of the meal and ate it. After chewing for a moment and swallowing, he declared, “Not poisoned indeed. It seems you do have some skill in something other than murder.”

Lara let out the breath that she’d been holding in something like a relieved sigh and her smile was somewhat more genuine this time. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as expected. Emet-Selch spent far more time making verbal jabs at the lifestyle of the Warriors of Darkness and the quality of their friends than he did giving any useful information. He gestured quite a bit while he spoke, but nothing seemed to indicate that he planned to kill them with dark magics or summon sin eaters directly into the room to do it for him. Not that Ardbert ever stopped being alert to any potential danger.

When the meal was finished and he’d made to leave, Roger had the courage to ask why that was. He’d given a smirk and responded, “It’s far too much effort to explain a concept multiple times, particularly to those who wouldn’t understand it the first time.” He turned and gave a dramatic wave above his head as a violet portal opened ahead of him. “And for as novel as this dinner was, I’m afraid I must decline any future invitations. Until next we meet.”

Minutes later, the Crystal Exarch paid a visit and Ardbert had a much grander time watching the two stumble over themselves explaining what had happened as the older man chided them. They’d completely forgotten that he could see what Roger and Lara were up to through his mirror in the Crystal Tower.

[mojofun]

Caution - Keep out of children's reach. Yes Sirius, you too (Sirius x Reader)

Hello everyone. This is an entry for a writing challenge I’m taking part in, launched by the awesome @approved-by-dentists​ for reaching 400 followers; congratulations again :) The prompts I chose were <<So you’re telling me you read the instructions and still managed to get this result?>><<I did! Okay, I tried… Well, I tried to want to?>> and <<How on Earth did I ever get so lucky to be loved by you?>>

It’s a piece of fluff set in absurd situation and it came to me after a rather disastrous trip to IKEA (I’m still laughing). Anyway, enough with the chatter. I hope you enjoy it!

Gif not mine, credits to @snuffles-padfoot07​

<<Shit, Y/N’s home, Y/N’s home!>>

Alarmed whispers and jarring sounds of moving furniture were what welcomed the H/C-haired girl in the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, and occasionally -much more often than one might think- his best friend.

Suspicious, to say the least.

The young woman took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for whatever could be waiting for her in the house. Her preparation should have been a little more physical, however, as all the years she’d spent with her other half should have taught her.

Maybe she decided to have some faith in him, even just a little…

That trust resulted in her almost face-planting against the floor after tripping over something. Luckily, two strong arms caught her before severe injures occurred

<<Y/N! Are you ok?>>

She tilted her head upward, meeting the young man’s steely grey eyes, filled with concern. 

Well, at least for that she could count on him.

The thought brought a smile to her face, but it was quickly wiped off her face when she took in the state of the room

<<What the hell, Sirius?>>

Cardboard boxes, sellotape shreds, bolts and screws littered the floor, along with some tools like hammers and… Was that a saw?

Parts of what she guessed were supposed to be chairs and a couch completed the mix. All in all, it looked like a jenga game gone wrong.

The sheepish twenty-something wizard awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck, avoiding her gaze

<<Well, you see…>>

<<Yes, I do see! The living room is a mess! Did a bomb explode in here or something?>>

In the corner James was crouching out of sight behind what should have been the back piece of the sofa

<<No, wait; a bomb would have caused less damage than you two>>

<<I’m sorry! We needed new chairs after the, uhm… Accident>>

Y/N crossed her arms, pinning him with a glare

<<Oh, you’re talking about the time you got drunk, changed into Padfoot and chewed all the legs off the furniture?>>

He gulped guiltily, still not looking at her.

Merlin knows what would have happened if Remus had not intervened to restrain him

<<Uh, yeah>>

<<And?>>

<<We went to that strange stores muggles call I… I…>>

<<I… What?>>

<<Wait, it’s on the tip of my tongue…>>

<<Su->>

<<Prongs, what the hell was it called?>>

<<I… Ig… Ice…>>

<<Are you two talking about IKEA?>>

<<YES!>> The two Marauders exclaimed in unison <<How did you know?>>

<<I’m a muggle born, remember?>>

Sirius smirked

<<Darling, how could I ever forget? My parents’ reaction when they found out I’m dating you will be forever burned in my mind>>

It was Y/N’s turn to grin at the prospect of stumping her significant other

<<Really now? Is that the only reason you are dating me, Sirius?>>

He rushed to her side, taking her hands in his and spewing reassurances so fast that she had trouble understanding him

<<No, of course not. I love you, your beauty, your sense of humor, your intelligence, your kindness…>>

Sirius was a little flustered; Y/N giggled

<<Are you done, darling?>>

<<Uhm, yeah>>

<<Good. Now, shall we take care of this mayhem together?>>

Both boys nodded fervently, making the female chuckle

<<Awesome. Will one of you hand me the instructions sheets, please?>>

That simple question was enough to make them freeze like two criminals caught red-handed

<<I’m scared of asking, but I’ll take the chance… What happened to those papers?>>

Her boyfriend looked like the statues outside the Hogwarts castle; his best friend hesitantly lifted his hand, pouting at a pile of scraps in the corner

<<What the hell?>>

Y/N suddenly had the feeling that she would be repeating that sentence a lot more during this absurd conversation

<<Well, you see…>>

<<No, this time I do not see! Why would you do that?>>

<<What makes you think it was me?>>

The young witch cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a snort

<<Please: I’ve seen you in action as Padfoot>>

<<Alright… I may have chewed them out of frustration>>

<<Very mature>>

<<They were unintelligible! I was going crazy! I mean, look at this chair!>> He exploded, pointing at the piece of furniture by her side.

At first Y/N merely glanced at it, not finding anything out of the ordinary. Then, she froze; her brain refused to elaborate what she saw, so she slowly turned around again and came face to face with… An unusual sight, to put it nicely

<<What the hell?>>

Yes, the feeling was right

<<What is this? It looks like something out of a modern art museum!>>

In spite of themselves Sirius and James laughed, unable to hold back. Her glare brought them back in line though

<<Would one of you care to tell me why this damn chair has eight legs?>>

<<The drawings->>

<<Wait wait wait wait wait>> She held up a hand, trying to prepare herself again <<So you’re telling me you read the instructions->>

<<We read them!>> 

<<And still managed to get this result?>>

<<I did!>>

For the second time Y/N pinned him with a  harsh glare, making him squirm uncomfortably

<<Okay, I tried…>>

Her scowl worsened

<<Well, I tried to want to?>>

In the corner, James was still hiding behind the back piece of the couch.

The woman let out a long, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose

<<I can’t believe you two…>>

<<Hey, did you expect us to understand Swedish?>>

<<The English version is written on the back, you idiots!>>

<<Oh>> They gaped

<<Don’t “oh” me>> The exasperated female scolded, taking in again the chaos the living room had been reduced to

<<There better be no more surprises in the house>>

<<Well, we were thinking of tackling the bed, but->>

<<No!>> She hastened to stop them <<You know what? Why don’t you two go buy groceries or something and I’ll deal with this… Octopus chair and the rest of your bedlam>>

At that, the other guy immediately ran out of the house, leaving his best mate to face his unnerved girlfriend. He just gave her an enormous smile and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her

<<How on Earth did I ever get so lucky to be loved by you?>>

<<The real question is, what did I ever do to deserve you?>> She mumbled in his chest, making him cackle

<<You lucked out, darling>>

<<It wasn’t a compliment, you dumbass>>

The coal-haired wizard let out a belly laugh, pecking her on the forehead

<<I don’t care what you did, but I am grateful you did it; my life wouldn’t be even half as wonderful without you in it>>

The S/C-skinned witch raised her face to look him in the eyes, smiling sweetly

<<You managed to placate my fury, but it’s not gonna last long, so I suggest you apparate as far away as you can while I can still keep my killing instincts at bay>>

<<Roger that, my love. I’ll see you later!>>

With that, he was gone.

Y/N chortled, shaking her head in amusement

<<Whatever it is I did, Sirius, I am immensely grateful I did it too…>>

She pulled out her wand and got to work.

A couple of hours later the house looked fit to live in again. All pieces of furniture had the correct number of legs and there was no litter on the floor; it was spic and span.

That was the sight that greeted Sirius when he decided to go back home. It made him smile as he headed to their shared bedroom.

There, he found his girlfriend lying on the bed, taking a rest after working out the mess he’d made. To make up for it he’d bought her a bunch of F/F and a plushie

<<Y/N?>>

<<Mh…>>

<<Darling, could you wake up a moment?>>

Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up, stretching and yawning

<<What is it? What did you do now?>>

Chuckling, the young man revealed his surprise

<<Well, I wanted to give you something to thank you for being so wonderful to me and tolerating all the trouble I stir>>

The smile she gave him made him melt. She accepted the flowers but, before she could move a muscle, he put them in a vase that was somehow already on the bedside table.

The plushie made her giggle

<<Dear, it’s ok. You are a wonderful boyfriend, you just suck at putting together furniture.

You really need to learn, though>>

He furrowed in confusion

<<Why? We don’t need anything else from I… Ic… Ig…>>

<<IKEA, Sirius, and yes, we do need one more thing>> She informed him with another yawn, getting back under the covers

<<What would it be, my dear?>>

<<A crib>> She murmured.

Four letters.

That was all it took for a wizard who’d faced countless Death-eaters to freeze on the spot

<<A c- A cri- Y/N?! Are you->>

A teddy to the face was his answer

<<Yes, yes I am. Now let me sleep>>

The H/C-haired witch did not see the tears pooling in her boyfriend’s eyes, nor the humongous smile stretching his lips.

He lay down beside her and slowly, cautiously, rested his hand on her abdomen

<<How on Earth did I ever get so lucky to be loved by you?>>

That was the last thing he said before succumbing to sleep.

Sirius did not see her smile either, but he did feel her squeezing his hand.

He was looking forward to their next trip to Ic- Ih- whatever the hell that store was called.

[pinkjeanist]

I’d like to request something for the valentine event. Can I have a Reader x Dabi where the reader is infiltrating the league of villains to take them out from the inside. She’s kind of a natural caretaker though and always cleans up after the villains and reminds them to eat and sleep regularly just out of habit. Dabi ends up developing feelings for her and craves more attention and ends up falling for her. I guess the tropes are enemies to lovers and forbidden relationship. Thank you!

fire flower || dabi

a/n: the stuff i just churned out for this request doesn’t match what you wanted word for word, but i actually feel really good about how it came out! please accept the near-2,000 words as an apology!!!! also, the song i chose for this one is really chill and kinda-sorta gives me dabi vibes, i highly recommend listening to it!!! {valentine event} [masterlist and requests]

desc.: That night, you learned two things about Dabi: 1), he already knew that you were working for the heroes and didn’t really care, and 2), he sucks at flirting.

w/c: 1,863

“Anything new?” Hawks closes the door behind himself and watches you scale the room back and forth looking for supplies. You let out a sigh and kept your gaze away from him. These check-in’s were starting to make you more nervous with each passing one. 

“Nothing.”

“You’re around one of them almost all the time. You’ve met Shigaraki, and you still don’t have anything?” You knew he wasn’t trying to be rude, but he had every right to be. You’d been under cover for three months with Hawks and had only given the heroes scraps to work with. But it wasn’t that you couldn’t get any information- you had a whole stockpile of data in the back of your mind- but it wasn’t anything too important. Or, at least, anything that was important in the moment. “The directors are getting angry.”

“I know they are, but I’m doing what I can,” You replied. You finally found the aid kit you were looking for deep in your wardrobe and set it on the bed. “There’s only so much I can get out of them without seeming suspicious.”

“They aren’t suspecting you. If anything, they should be suspecting me.” Hawks leaned against the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was right- they’d probably be more assuming of a pro hero than some random healer they found on the street (or so they thought). “Look, you hang around Dabi a lot, right? You know he’s one of our biggest targets. He likes you. Get something out of him.”

“He doesn’t like me,” You argued, the fatigue leave your lungs with your voice. “He’s using me. All he needs me for are those scars of his.”

You finally looked up at Hawks to find a blank stare in return, which was never a good thing coming from him. It was the look he gave people when he was trying to read them- which really wasn’t good for you, seeing as how you currently harbored a lot of details you’d rather he didn’t know.

After a few long moments, he turned and left without so much as a goodbye, which was to be expected. You sighed again and began hauling your healing supplies to the main floor of the building, where you assumed Dabi had curled up with a drink as he waited for you to tend to his wounds- again. It was his fault for going out on missions instead of sending LIberation members to do his dirty work, but it was also your fault for worrying over him. It sounded ridiculous until you reminded yourself that he was the enemy.

When you arrived downstairs, you found Twice beaten all to hell and Toga standing over him, whispering amongst themselves. A nurse was tending to them already, but Dabi was nowhere in sight, and you could already tell that Twice had more than a few fractures.

“Where’s Dabi?” You asked, about to dismiss the other nurse. 

“Oh, he’s over in that broom closet,” Toga gestured, seeming more than a little upset. “He used too much of his quirk and got himself burned, again.”

You sighed, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She seemed relatively unscathed, save for her torn-up knees. She really needed to stop wearing skirts on missions. “I should help Twice first…”

“No, go to him.” She wasn’t smiling, and deciding that the nurse was doing a good enough job, you complied. You’d probably find Twice and help him later, anyway.

You approached the closet and knocked gently, and not hearing a reply, you let yourself in to find Dabi with his back propped up against the shelves. He tensed as you closed the door behind you. His pants were torn and his legs were scratched up underneath, but his sleeves had been burned clear to his biceps, and the scarring had been wiped away to leave fresh wounds. It would scar deeper than it had before with the help of your quirk, but you worried about whether or not he could stand the healing process it would take to get there.

“I thought I told you not to be so hard on yourself,” You said, kneeling beside him and setting your kit aside. Most of the items in it wouldn’t do you much good, now. He didn’t reply as you pulled a liter of water from the kit (an element necessary to making your quirk work) and watched as he visibly flinched. “I’ll try to be gentle. Hold still as best as you can.”

You took a rag from the kit and stuffed it between his teeth before uncapping the water and slowly beginning to pour it up the expanse of his injuries. He huffed and shook, but refused to make any sound. When you finished, you briefly took the rag from his mouth as he was left panting.

“I’m gonna have to touch you.”

“…I know.”

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“…I know.”

You sighed to yourself and carefully stuffed the rag back between his teeth. With a weight settling heavily on your chest, you took him by his burnt hands and activated your quirk.

~

When you heard a knock at your door that evening, you almost expected it to be Hawks, until you remember that he did most of his sneaking that late at night. Instead you opened it to find Dabi, leaning against your doorframe, a rather expensively-seeming bottle of wine hanging at his side. His arms were wrapped in bandages, but you were sure he didn’t need them hours after you’d put them on him.

You swallowed. “I’ve got plenty of wine, thanks.”

“Oh, no, this is for me. I just wanna talk.” 

You felt your chest tighten. Had he overheard something? How much did they know? Where was Hawks? And then, against your goodwill, your heart had the audacity to reply, “He wouldn’t hurt you. You’re practically one of them, anyway.” 

So, you stepped back and let him inside instead of lying that you were too tired or something of the like, and he made a languidly-paced beeline for your seldom-used balcony. He opened the wine, and you hurried to get the glasses from the cupboard.

When you emerged onto the balcony, he’d already been drinking generously from the bottle, but took the wine glass, anyway. He poured your drink and took one last drink before using his glass properly. “You’re lookin’ radiant tonight, sweetheart.” 

You felt the heaviness leave your chest with a sigh, replaced with a different kind of weight. It was a weight that pressed downward but didn’t choke, and kissed your lungs until you blushed. “Did you come all the way up here just to flatter me?”

“Ah, well, gotta butter you up, somehow.” He poured more wine into your glass as if to prove his point. “You are lookin’ fine, though. Deadass.” 

“Um. Thanks.” You drank enough wine at once to be deemed “socially improper” at his “compliment.” God, he infuriated you. He irked at you and picked at your heart until it felt full. And sad. You couldn’t look at Dabi without being sad. “What did you wanna talk about?”

“What, is this not enough?”

“If you just wanted to flirt with me, you wouldn’t be trying to get me tipsy.” 

He humphed. “Yeah, seems right. Well, anyway, I just…had a question.” He poured himself more wine to his already half-full glass. The both of you would run out in minutes, at this rate.

He leaned against the railing. “Now, I know that you’re only here because we’re paying you, and because you’re working for Hawks and all-”

“What does that mean?” You inquired, hand tightening around the glass. “”Because I’m working for Hawks?””

“It means, I know you’re working for him and the heroes, but in your case, I really couldn’t care less. Care to know why?”

You shake your head, but he smirks and continues, anyway: “He isn’t in the circle. He never was. He’s been giving us intel on the heroes and we’ve been giving him bullshit in return, and he’s taken every bit of it back to wherever the hell he came from. But you- I’ve given you every bit of information you need to tear down our entire League, and you’re still here.”

You look up at him and swallow. “You’re testing me.”

“I already did. And congrats, you passed!” He poured more wine into my glass. “Now, my question, which I’m sure you’re gonna be thrilled to hear: when are you gonna stop pretending to be one of them?”

Your hand tightened around your glass. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t bullshit me, now. I know you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I don’t have to know someone’s tragic little backstory or whatever to know how they act, what they want. You want to be here. And really, I want you here, too.” He stepped into my space, and I felt my nerves shoot up at the sudden closeness, though not so much out of fear. “I like you. The others like you too, but that’s not the point, right now.”

“I thought that was the point, seeing as how you’re trying to recruit me.”

“Well now, I’m trying to woo you, so shut up.” You found yourself huffing in amusement, even as your hands trembled around your glass. He was looking at you so intently you could feel his heat, his passion, and you burned beneath it. It was intoxicating, and worrying, and suffocating. “You know, I’ve been watching you for a while, now.”

“Oh, I figured.”

“Shh. Anyway, you look pretty cute, running around trying to save our asses every time we come home a little more than bruised. Especially my ass. I also like it when you wear that perfume, the uh, the flowery one, the…” 

“…the cherry blossom one, yeah.” 

“Yeah, the cherry blossom one. It really adds to that sensation your quirk gives me. I’m addicted to your quirk, by the way. It suits that pretty face of yours.”

“You suck at flirting.” 

“But it’s working, isn’t it?” He downed half of his glass with a smirk, and you shift your feet at the weight of his words. 

His bandaged hand reached up to rest on the side of your jaw as if he were about to pull you close, but after standing there for a few long moments, he suddenly turned and walked back towards the room to your bedroom.

A part of you panicked. “Where are you going?”

He set his wine on the nightstand before he threw himself down in your bed and grabbed the remote to your television. “Netflix.” He grabbed his wine again and glanced at you over the rim. “Won’t you be joining me? I think I need my bandages checked, after all.”

He knew damn well you didn’t need to check his bandages, and you knew damn well what he wanted. But you also knew what you wanted, and you also knew that you’d sank too deep into this pit you’d dug for yourself to climb back out of it.

He really was a pain in your ass.