#finally summoned enough willpower to post this

[robotic-rin]

Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.

Word Count: 13,840

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable

Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!

You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.

Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.

You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.

You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.

As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.

“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”

You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.

“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.

The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”

You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.

He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.

You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.

He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.

“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.

His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.

“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.

“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.

As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.

You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.

“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.

“Boo.”

He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.

“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.

He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.

Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.

You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”

“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.

Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”

Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.

You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.

“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.

“That is demonstrably false.”

“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”

“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”

“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”

His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”

“No,” you respond flatly.

“Spin the bottle?”

“No.”

“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”

“N-what? How is that even-“

“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.

Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.

Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“

“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.

Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.

Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.

Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.

Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.

After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”

“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“

Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.

You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.

You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”

“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.

Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”

Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”

“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”

He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.

You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.

But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”

You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”

Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.

You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.

Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.

After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”

He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”

“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”

The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.

“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.

Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.

“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”

“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.

Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.

Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?

You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.

“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.

If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.

You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.

Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.

You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”

His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”

“That’s not how you ask for something.”

His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.

“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”

Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.

You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”

He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”

Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”

Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”

“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”

“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.

“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”

“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”

Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.

“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.

If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”

You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.

After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”

“Heh, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”

“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.

“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.

He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”

You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.

“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.

“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”

You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.

“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?

“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.

“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”

“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.

Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”

You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.

“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.

You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.

“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.

“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”

“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.

“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.

Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”

“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.

You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”

He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.

You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.

“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.

Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”

You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.

Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.

Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.

“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”

He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.

“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”

With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.

“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.

You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.

Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”

“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”

Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”

“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”

Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.

You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”

Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.

You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”

“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”

“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”

You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.

“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.

“Uh, what exactly did you do?”

“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.

You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”

“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”

“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.

“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.

“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”

Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.

“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”

An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”

Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.

“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”

You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.

“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”

You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”

He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.

You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”

Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”

“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”

Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”

Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.

After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”

You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.

He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”

You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”

“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”

You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.

“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.

“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.

Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”

You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”

The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”

“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”

“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”

“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”

“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”

“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”

“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”

You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”

Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”

Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.

“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”

With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.

You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.

Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)

[the-diabolist]

sano in the study with a rope is my dream!! also i adore your writing. always looking forward to your posts~ <3

Kinktober 2022, day 22 - aww thank you!

c.w: afab reader, restraint, edging, biting, fingering, oral, just a touch of medical kink. 900w

The ropes are so soft and secure that it's almost lulling - but the fingers between your thighs are decidedly not.

"Fuck," you grind out through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to glare at your loving boyfriend as he edges you harshly for a third time.

"Haven't had enough yet?" he asks, calm and collected. Almost detached, even, despite the fact that the cuff of his sleeve is practically soaked through with your slick.

"I'm golden," you say, in lieu of breaking down into desperate tears, "beating your record is going to be even easier than I expected."

He quirks a disbelieving brow, and just a hint of a smirk graces his mouth. The self-proclaimed king of edging isn't worried about losing his crown, clearly.

"Well then... three down, ten to go," he says; his smile grows a little wider as he watches the color drain from your face.

Leave it to a true masochist to let you edge him thirteen fucking times before caving. Why did you ever go along with that? Now he's got his own high horse to go along with his usual high standards. You don't actually think you can compete with him, but you shot off your big mouth and now here you are, trying to back it up.

While waiting for your sensitivity to recede a bit more, he adjusts his lab coat, rolling his sleeves up yet again, and looks over your ropes to make sure the knots haven't slipped from your bucking and thrashing. He could just ask, and you'd assure him you're still bound frustratingly tightly to the metal table, but he likes to check them himself. He's the self-proclaimed king of bondage, too.

Once he's satisfied with your security, he straightens back up and considers changing his gloves, eying the black nitrile shrewdly - but then he rubs his thumb and forefinger together, appreciating the smooth glide of them, courtesy of your arousal, and decides to keep them.

"Ready?" he asks clinically. You nod.

His lips find your throat at the same time his fingers slide back between your folds - he sucks a mark into your skin as your hips jolt from the light brush of his middle finger over your swollen bundle of nerves. You start throbbing immediately; this round isn't going to last long.

Sure enough, he bites down on the muscle below your jaw just as he roughly pinches your clit, and you start to topple over... only to rock back and forth precariously on the precipice as he swiftly and completely pulls away from you.

You slowly wind back down with a groan, panting, biting your tongue to keep from begging him to keep touching you. He was right to tie you up, that's for sure - you definitely would've taken care of yourself that time if you'd been able to.

"You could try to control yourself a little," he admonishes with a condescending tsk. You want to kick him.

"And you could loosen up," you snap. "Doesn't it chafe you to be so restrained all the time? Wouldn't you like to go wild for a change? That can't be comfortable," you add, nodding toward the obvious bulge in his pants.

"I believe you're the restrained one here," he quips smugly, grin fully breaking through this time. "Nice try. Settle down."

You sigh in defeat and close your eyes, trying to summon up the willpower to keep going. You can't seem to banish the growing feeling that you'd much rather have an orgasm than your dignity.

He's not very helpful, either; he leans in to kiss you fervently, running his tongue over your teeth before finally pulling away.

"Ready?"

"No," you spit, and he rolls his eyes.

"This is going to take forever if you don't start trying harder," he chides. You flip him off with both hands despite your bound wrists. "Mature," he responds flatly.

"Keep going," you growl, steeling yourself.

He uses his mouth this time, swiping his tongue over your core before dipping inside, collecting your nectar as if he's the hummingbird to your flower. He closes his mouth over you for only a moment or two before you start tightening and he has to move away again.

You can't bite back a sob this time. You'd hoped to get through this with some degree of stoicism, just to get under his skin, but now you're unfortunately certain you'll be weeping hysterically by the time you make it to your end.

If you do make it, that is - you know he's working his way up to using his cock, that soon you'll have to suffer through your denied climaxes while stuffed full of him, slick and clenching and desperate for him to move.

You also know that he won't show you mercy for anything less than your safeword (and an admission that he is, in fact, the king of edging, and you are but a lowly peasant who can't take what you dish out), no matter how much begging or crying you may see fit to provide.

He kisses you again, and your empty cunt spasms, clenching around nothing - at least until two gloved fingers push their way inside of it, granting enough aching fullness to make you moan.

"Ready for number six? Almost halfway," he murmurs. You sob again.

Yeah, you're definitely not going to make it.

[winterburnwriting]

Hello There!

No, it isn't a dead blog until I let it die! Yes, it has been about 2 months since I last posted. And I wish I were coming back to tell you all that I was absent for so long because I was spending that time working very hard on the short novel. Unfortunately, that isn't really the case. Truth be told, I didn't have much going on that was preventing me from working, I just didn't feel like working on it and failed to summon the willpower to make it happen.

However, I did also have a computer problem in the last week. My primary computer several years ago was a decent enough (at the time) PC with a GTX 1070 and such. Nothing fancy, but it was fine. Then I went to college for one year and decided early into that I was going to buy a high-end laptop, since I had to buy one for classes anyway. I bought an Alienware m17 R4. It was a nice ugprade from my PC so I used it as my primary computer for the last couple of years. Since October 2021, I think. This is what I was writing my book on.

Unfortunately, it has been losing functions and components bit by bit for a very long time and seemed to be headed towards total lemon-ness. I was down to no wi-fi, no trackpad, no bluetooth (without a USB adapter), and no built-in screen (I used an external monitor). It was not looking great. Then it seemed to reject all video output whatsoever. Then it decided it didn't want to boot. I tried to open it up and diagnose and fix the issue to no avail. I sealed it back up, and it had the same issue plus a loud beeping! I mean, very loud. I kinda gave up at this point and decided to order some nice new parts for my now-old PC.

Once I had gotten some parts together I opened my laptop back up to take the SSDs out and put them into my Franken-PC. Then I saw something shocking. The battery ribbon cable.... was not plugged back in for the last test. I say "to hell with it!" and plug it back in, and I try to test the laptop again. And wouldn't you know it? It works fine. I am 850 dollars into the hole on a new emergency PC build. And the laptop works fine.

This was frustrating, but the laptop was going to die sometime soon anyway. So I go ahead with building the PC, I move the SSDs over, and I set everything back up the way it was before I got the laptop. Just with a nicer GPU and a worse CPU.

At least videogames look prettier now.

And I am now using my old mechanical Corsair keyboard, which I had bought towards the end of using my PC before switching to the Alienware. So that will take some getting used to for writing. But speaking of writing.... (drumroll please!)

I'm halfway done writing the first draft of my short novel!

This isn't as impressive as where I'd like to be by now, but it's still neat. I hit 23,291 words at the end of my writing session today, and I am aiming for around 45ish thousand words for the final product. Hopefully it won't take me so long to write the second half. I just need to stay productive, and maybe I can finish the draft by the end of June! I would really like to be (self) published in the Fall so I can start working on my first big proper novel in the last quarter of this year.

Anyway, since I haven't written very much since I last wrote here, I won't be leaving an excerpt. That, and it's 2:15 AM and I have work at 11 AM in the morning. So I should sleep. But I will be posting here again!

I hope this blogpost finds you well, and I wish you a lovely day.

[futarinokinenbi]

2012

From Hanako 87:

It seems Matsumoto house's potato salad and Worcestershire sauce got positive reaction from Fukiishi-san and Sakurai-san. Especially Sakurai-san was really impressed!

M: He liked potato salad that much (laughs). Sho-kun, potato salad with curry taste is delicious, too.

　　　　　　　❤️　💜　❤️　💜

From Himitsu no Arashi-chan 20121025:

S: I was surprised by that (potato salad Worcestershire)!

M: That's right, Sho-kun really was, that time.

　　　　　　　　❤️　💜　❤️　💜

From TV Guide 20121109:

Things about Sakurai✖Matsumoto

Even if we're going for a different work, we often accidentally meet at the TV station.

2012 playback & 2013 aspiration

S: The surprise after knowing about adding Worcestershire sauce to potato salad is one of this year's memories (laughs). Next year, please tell me {a new recipe} that exceeds {the unusualness of} potato salad-Worcestershire sauce!

Things about Matsumoto✖Sakurai

Sometimes the place we choose to go for a meal ends up being the same one.

2012 playback & 2013 aspiration

I didn't expect {that you would be} that impressed after I told you about adding Worcestershire sauce to potato salad. Next year, I would like the two of us to think about a replacement for Worcestershire sauce and make a new combination.

　　　　　　　　❤️　💜　❤️　💜

From Hanako 100:

Recently, you were very excited about Matsumoto family's potato salad and Worcestershire sauce combination.

S: That meeting with Worcestershire potato salad was fate. To know that amazing combination exists! This year, it was the most impactful meeting!(laughs)

[leggerefiore]

Wow your works are incredible! You write the Subway masters amazingly! I love especially the DemonAU version of them. Can we get some headcannons about these demon boys? In any way or style you want!

it's you funny say that because i have a ficlet of them just sitting around because i was worried no one was interested. i'll clean it up a bit and post it later.

cw: unhealthy relationships, demons, possessive behaviour

❄General HCs❄️

● Overall, demons are sort of weird in this AU, they're basically able to shift reality (their strength is based on their rank) and aren't really alive or dead, just there. No possession, either (unless it's a specific ability to said demon.) Soulmates are something most demons actively pursue but rarely find, so when you do find them, you instantly bond with them. Bonding is essentially the binding of soils together, and It's pretty painful for all parties involved.

○ Ingo and Emmet are high-ranking demons, and their powers are directly related to one another. You might be able to overpower one if you're smart and strong enough, but it's literally impossible if they're together. They have ice related abilities and make things unbearably cold.

● They are still workaholics, but don't tire really. Their bodies aren't actually their true forms, so they don't actually expend that much energy. They are also only in this dimension to find their soulmate(s).

○ It's funny when other demons go on the Battle Subway and feel the demonic energy. What kind of high-ranking demon runs a public transport system? Then they look at the twins like, “Oh, it's those guys.” They have a reputation back in their home dimension as being eccentric about trains.

▲Ingo▼

● However he meets you, be it summoning or random chance, he realizes your soulmate with a single glance. Say it's chance on the subway, he's very polite and courteous toward you. Ingo will give you his number and invite you along for a tour of the station.

● Do not be fooled, he is trying to isolate you and bond you. The demon is insufferable and desperate. He's waited centuries to meet you. Now all he wants is his claim upon you, afraid to lose you. (He's heard one too many horror stories of other demons losing their human mates should they leave them unclaimed. )

● After the bond, however, he will respect all of your boundaries. Should you not wish to see him ever again (he believes you will eventually, as you're now immortal like him), he will simply go. There's now a desperate longing deeply ingrained onto your soul. No matter who you befriend, date or have a one-night stand with; it lingers and burns. You stood outside his apartment in a trance. As the door opens, you press your body against his frigid one and his hand moves to softly comb your hair. You finally feel whole again.

● After your relationship starts proper, Ingo will tell you about his dimension. He's trying to gage whether you would be interested in migrating there (after Emmet finds his soulmate, he would never leave his brother). If you're not interested, he understands. He's happy to stay in the human world if it's with you. He'll still want you to visit his dimension, however. If you are, have fun in a world where water feels soft and mushy. Their dimension follows wildly different rules.

● Ingo can and will purr if you get him comfortable and relaxed enough. It'll be a weird experience at first, but eventually, it becomes a cute occurrence. He can also growl and hiss properly.

▽Emmet△

○ Also realizes you are his soulmate instantly. It takes his entire willpower to not just squeeze you to him and claim you with a long, passionate kiss. Kissing is probably not a good idea if it's as painful as everyone says it is, anyway. He's enthusiastic as he approaches you.

○ Claims you as soon he has you alone. Emmet's patience for you died a long time ago. Your bond is something extremely precious to him, and he's not going to let humans take you from him. You are pressed into an embrace as the burning, freezing, and electric pain surges through your very being.

○ Your boundaries are slightly respected. He won't directly interact with you, but you'll know he's always there. A fierce, biting desire demands physical contact. You spend nights awake shivering, wanting someone to hold you close. You know the demon is behind it; he wants you to call for him. One night, you cried for him and the warmth emitted from his body made you temporarily forget the unwanted bond. Emmet kisses your ear and whispers sweet nothings.

○ When your relationship begins, Emmet becomes attached to your hip. There is barely a moment spent alone. You're told of his home dimension, and he informs you he doesn't really mind where you'd rather stay. He will be influenced by his brother wants, however. Maybe work with Ingo's mate to stop stay in your reality.

○ Also purrs, but it's a common occurrence. So is growling and hissing when someone gets a bit too friendly toward you. Honestly, he was probably purring while he bonded with you.

▲Double Trouble▽

● It was most likely a horrifying moment when you realized the two Subway Bosses were staring you down from across the station. They knew you were their soulmate and were strategizing how to best get you alone with them.

○ Emmet approaches you first, knowing he looks more amiable than his twin. His words are a bit strange, but he comes off as a good person. Ingo followed up closely, and soon you were acquainted with the demons. A tour of the station was offered to you. Foolishly, you accepted believing their friendliness.

● The depot agents and office workers surely heard your screams from their bosses' office. Your mind felt like it was run across a cheese grater; your body ached, sizzled and popped. Throughout it all, you were sandwiched between the brothers. Soft, captivating reassurances echoed in your head, but were unspoken by lips.

○ Admittedly, they do not respect your boundaries. Ingo wants you somewhere safe, and Emmet wants you away from humans. Congratulations, you're going to their dimension. There's no escape, and eventually, you'll succumb to the bond and their wishes.

● One is always at your side. On the rare occasion you're left alone, the reality of their dimension begins to eat at your brain. You beg them to never leave you alone, and they'll happily oblige. That evening was spent within an amorous embrace, Ingo apologizing for all the pain they have caused you while Emmet peppers kisses all over your body.

○ Your time is spent doing whatever you please, and they'll obtain anything you want. It's an enchanting lifestyle; you only wished they offered you a choice. The desperation was understandable, but you wanted your personhood acknowledged. The twins do respect you, truthfully. Instincts just unfortunately run high for their species.

[acciofanfics]

Beg|JamesPotter|NSFW|

Pairing:James Potter x Reader

Warnings: Nothing too intense, but maybe orgasm denial, Public sex (but not really if you have a better way to put it let me know lol)

A/N: A rewrite-ish extended version of a blurb I posted awhile ago. Idk James Potter inspo struck me 🤷‍♀️ Not beta or even proofread really lol -S

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t incredibly often that James found himself feeling absolutely helpless and it wasn’t a feeling he wasn’t entirely sure he enjoyed. What was worse was that this was entirely his fault.

Oddly enough it started with his girlfriend asking to sit beside him in a few classes and pouted that she didn’t understand why Sirius ALWAYS had to be his desk mate. James laughed finding the complaint rather cute and easily fixable, but how was he supposed to not tease her when her face looked that cute? It was then that James made his mistake and leaned over to whisper, “How do you expect me to pay attention to their lectures and keep my hands to myself when you’re sitting next to me in that skirt? You know I bet by the time class was over you’d be begging me to just take you right there on the desk in front of everyone.”

He honestly thought that would be the end of it. James even planned on surprising her and sitting next to her during their Transfiguration class later in the day. Somehow he just knew he was in trouble when (Y/N) took a seat next to him in charms… especially when she didn’t even greet him. He tried to slyly look over at his traitor of a best friend and the hushed chuckle when their gazes met only made James more suspicious of the switch… Merlin, he really hoped that she didn’t expect him to deliver on what he suggested earlier… he’d just been joking.

As the lecture started and (Y/N) resembled a model student, James relaxed a bit. If she could follow along that well and even go as far as to take notes then maybe James should take her advice and pay attention as well. He did manage to focus on the lesson for a few moments, he happened for be so into it that he hadn’t even noticed (Y/N)’s free hand slip under the table until it was on top of his thigh.

James couldn’t help, but straighten up at her touch. Through the corner of his eye he could see her smirk pointed down at her parchment as her finders slowly moved up towards his-

James coughed much louder than he had intended to, summoning multiple pairs of eyes to look back at him. He mumbled an uncharacteristically meek apology and Flitwick went back to his teaching. This might’ve been the first time James wanted to soak up every bit of knowledge being offered up to him. Really, he just wanted to latch onto anything that could keep him from thinking about his his dick that was hardening as (Y/N) palmed him through his trousers.

James waited until Flitwick was turned around before leaving over and whispering to her, “Come on babe…”

“Just pay attention.” She winked and wore a grin that let him know she was entirely pleased with herself.

The treatment only got worse in James’ opinion. He thought he would be somewhat relieved when Sirius sat next to him in the following class, but honestly he was a bit disappointed to see (Y/N) back at her usual searing arrangement. He swore he saw her grin every time he found himself looking at her.

He was actually relived when she was finally next door him again a whole class period later. He wasn’t quite thrilled to see she still planned on barely giving him attention though. Maybe he should give her a taste of her own medicine. The plan seemed solid enough until he reached for her… As soon as his finger brushed her leg she popped his hand… she popped his hand like he was a child… James could hardly believe it, but ever the good boyfriend that he was he withdrew and simply sat there. It might’ve looked like he was pouting, but James would confirm that simply wasn’t the case.

His expression softened when he felt her hand next to his leg, but she didn’t move further than that. Slowly frustration built and James swallowed his pride, and he gently grabbed her hand and placed it on his leg. He may not have been permitted to touch her at the moment, but that didn’t sway him at all from wanting her hands on him.

Her hand remained stationary for awhile until their professor turned his back. She took the opportunity to scoot a little closer so she’d have an easier time whispering quietly to him, “You want something from me?”

Really? Like she didn’t know what she wanted. He bit his tongue metaphorically, trying to hold onto the slightest bit of dignity, but it was hard… she was right there and it’d be so easy for her to- He supposed he now had a better understanding of how she felt all those times he’d gone out of his way to rile her up. Except he couldn’t recall being so mean! He never started things he didn’t intend to finish, and he normally gave in with the slightest bit of indignation. (Y/N) seemed content to wait as long as it took. “Bloody hell, will you just touch me already please?!”

Had they been in a different setting she might’ve been more apt to push him a little further, perhaps ask for specifics. For now she would be satisfied with the vague answer, “Good boy.”

His cock twitched a bit at the praise and it took every ounce of willpower and strength he had not to moan out when her palm was resting back against it. The embarrassment of being caught red-handed would’ve been excruciating obviously, but the real trouble came from if he was too loud then she would surely stop and the thought of that was horrible. An unimaginable thought really, because even though DADA was usually his favorite subject the only thing he could think about was claiming that release that he was denied earlier.

James supposed he must’ve had a tell the he didn’t know about. Maybe it was how he suddenly tensed under her touch. Or maybe how his knuckles were turning white with how hard he was gripping his quill. Whatever it was it must’ve given him away because as soon as he was about to tip right over the edge she stopped. She stopped. Again. James let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding in when he felt the warmth of her hand abandon him yet again.

James thought he was about to combust… he did think about heading to any empty restroom or closet and taking care of it himself, but something about the mischievous grin on her face kept him glued to his chair. Kept him just waiting.

He really tried to be patient as could, but as soon as the lesson was over he found himself pulling her into the first unused room he found and whipping out his wand to cast a quick: colloportus.

“James! We’re gonna be late!” She scolded him, but the giggle seemed to be proof enough she wasn’t actually that concerned about any tardiness.

“I could not care less! What are you doing to me and why?! Is your plan to do this all day? I don’t think I can bloody take it-“

“That’s funny I thought you said this morning I’d be begging you.” A wicked smile spread across her face and James knew he’d lost, but fuck he didn’t care. Whatever she wanted from him he’d give it to her. If she wanted him to beg then he’d be on his knees in a second.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity

Three months, two days and seven hours.

That is how long you’ve been in Dimitrescu castle for. If rumor is to be believed, you are well on your way to setting the year’s record for longest living maid. Well. ‘Maid’, according to their perception. Your mind always automatically corrects it to something more fitting:

Prisoner.  

You did not choose to work for them. You did not choose to be in this godforsaken place, cleaning crimson stains off the floors, trying to convince yourself the wailing that sometimes reaches your ears is simply the wind. You never would have imagined your life’s end like this, serving wine –no, who are you kidding, it’s too crimson for that— to the Dimitrescus at dinner until one of them snaps and drives the nearest blade into your throat.

Probably Daniela.

It’s not unheard of. And stories of other maids’ murders are plenty.

Daniela has bitten one’s throat off for the crime of addressing her wrongly. Cassandra has left increasingly deep gashes, some of which resulted in deaths, for random offenses, like staring at her for too long. Bela, arguably the more merciful of the three, has snapped necks only when the staff disrespected her sisters’ names, or her mother’s.

You aren’t sure if you want to thank the older maids for this information or yell at them for the nightmares it has caused you. You are lucky to not be in the village, they say –everyone there must already be dead. You are even luckier to have been taken from the dungeon by the Lady herself. It means the daughters don’t know you and the castle is big enough that they may never spare you a glance.

You hadn’t believed it, at first.

Yet in the three months of your stay, you have never come across anyone other than Bela in the sections you were assigned to clean and polish. She passed you by the hallway like she did the decorations and the furniture –and you couldn’t be happier about it. You have caught scarce glimpses of Alcina Dimitrescu, too. Never the other two residents.

Not until the fateful day another maid disappears and the staff’s assigned posts change. You have no say in it and no power to object.

May as well keep my head down and continue to work as carefully as I have. That is the idea. Not to look too much, or think too much, or feel too much. Avoid mistakes because those in the castle are fatal.  

It is a little difficult to remain utterly calm when the sound of swarming insects comes from far behind you, though.

Your blood starts to kick in your veins. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest and make a run for it. You lock your muscles down and summon all the willpower you possess to stay focused on your task.

Please be Bela, please, please, be Bela—

The buzzing dies down. Steps approach you in the otherwise silent hallway. They are too light to be Bela’s. You’re probably screwed, you think, but you keep cleaning the surface in front of you until it’s practically a mirror with how it shines.

The steps halt too close to you for comfort. Out of the corner of your eye, you realize they’ve left bloody imprints on the floor you’ve been polishing for hours now. Dainty, pale fingers are wrapped loosely, almost lazily, around a sickle dripping crimson.    

“Never seen you around, before.” the sound of her voice makes you freeze.

You stop and turn— to face none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her hood is down, brunette waves on point, the dried blood at her chin a terrible contrast to her otherwise attractive face. You… didn’t know she was that pretty, up close.

“I… I have been here for three months. On the opposite wing.” you say. Was I even supposed to reply? You’ll find out soon enough, if your tongue is still attached to your body.

Her eyes give you a quick once-over. “Bela’s been keeping you a secret, huh.” she tsks. Her free hand goes to the handle of the door next to you… and only then do you realize it must be her bedroom. You’re literally assigned to clean the wolf’s den. “Come wake me up when the sun has set, completely.” she emphasizes.

What.

“Uh—”

The crimson-dyed sickle moves until its blade rests underneath your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet hers. From this angle, under the pale lighting of dawn, they look more –stunning— blue than inhuman gold. “No loud sounds. No lights. Got it?”

How can you not, when your life depends on it?

“Yes, my lady.” you reply. You don’t even dare draw breath.

“Good.” In one swift movement, the sickle is gone, the handle turned and she’s already shedding her robe.

You catch a glimpse of a black corset and a narrow waist before you avert your eyes.

The door shuts.

...

Waking Cassandra up can be… tricky, the other maids tell you.

She detests light when she opens her eyes but she also doesn’t want it to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to talk but you can’t shake her, either. Which brings you to the very logical question:

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

To which they have no answer.

They have no answer, you realize with a start… because there’s nobody alive to tell the tale of how to actually wake the brunette sleeping beauty up without simultaneously signing their own death sentence.

The hours pass both too slow and too fast. The sun sets over the horizon.

And you stand, riddled with nerves, outside Cassandra’s room.

A deep inhale later, you turn the handle. The door is left half-open so a bit of light comes in from the hallway. Her bedroom smells like shampoo, bath salts and spices. She must have taken a shower before she went to sleep. You approach the figure tucked under the silken sheets of the queen-sized bed…

Cassandra is lying on her side, one hand underneath her pillow, the other extended loosely towards the edge of the mattress. She probably sleeps naked, at least from the waist up, but thankfully the covers are wrapped around her chest. Their royal red color makes a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin.

Her face is so… serene.

She is a monster and a sadistic killer, yet right there you can’t deny she looks more like a renaissance painting.

Now onto the hard part.

“My lady… the sun has set.” you whisper, kneeled on the floor beside her. No movement comes. “Hey… I’m here to wake you up?” you try again. Still nothing. Shakily, you bring your hand up to the bed. Not daring to touch her, you leave it beside hers, over the covers. “Cassandra?”

She turns her face deeper into her pillow –no, no, you don’t think it’s cute, what’s wrong with you— but at least she’s finally reacting. You call her name one more time.

Her nose scrunches up a little. Long fingers flex –and they touch yours. She’s cold. A pair of blueish ambers blink open to regard you. Not with malice, or with annoyance.

“Good evening.” you speak, unsure of what else to say.

A smirk slowly curves her lips. She looks like a lazy cat pondering whether or not it’s worth it to pounce and that’s not good. It’s not good, not ‘hot’ like your mind suggests. God, you’ve been in this castle so long you are starting to get messed up.

“Mm, breakfast in bed.” she grins and licks her lower lip sexily. Your eyes fly wide open, but her hand is already gripping the front of your black shirt, trapping you there.

How could you ever find this psycho attractive?! you get mad at yourself. Is she hot now that she’s going to kill you?  

But Cassandra only lets out an airy laugh and releases you. You fall backwards on your behind. “Breathe, darling, I’m joking.” She rolls onto her back and seems to wince from it. Her smile vanishes.

“…does… your back hurt?” you ask when you finally find your voice again.

“Ugh, a Lycan landed a hit on me. He’s pieces now, of course, but my muscles still pull.” she says it casually, like it’s a thing that happens.

Silence falls over the room. You take it as your cue to leave. You stand and bow while she’s looking blankly at the ceiling—

But she stops you.

“Wait. Come here.” you don’t like it when she gets that tone, like she came up with something she cannot wait to try. You’re already close to the bed, you’re not sure what she means. Until she pats the spot right next to her. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You won’t. You know what’s good for you.

Hesitantly, you take a seat on the –admittedly very comfortable— mattress. “Yes, lady?”

“Give me a massage.” she says like it’s your job, like she’s the rich woman in a spa and it’s what’s expected. She turns onto her front, bearing her naked back to you and you have less than five seconds to come to terms with the thought of straddling her.

Carefully, you bring your knees on either side of her thighs and pull the sheets so they rest low at her waist. You feel warmer than you should given the temperature of the castle. If she knows the fine teasing line she’s walking, she is loving every inch of it.

Cassandra loves being the center of attention and she loves being pampered, you realize.

It’s probably amusing to her to make you fluster, but this is also an opportunity for you to get on her good graces. She is a dangerous one and it’ll be a great asset for your survival if she’s leaning favorably towards you. Win-win situation. You just have to be good at your job. Like always.

By some miracle of God, you do know how to work the tension out of muscles.

The first time you touch her, you simply rest your hands on her back to warm it. She doesn’t seem to object, from the way lean muscle stretches out under your fingers. Cassandra feels cool, but not hard like marble. Her skin yields under your touch, soft and smooth.

As you apply more pressure to your stokes, she starts to let out little sighs that you have to mute in your mind before they start to affect you. You’ve been high-strung and without sex for too long. Your body all too eagerly intercepts this death-trap as foreplay.

Minutes roll by.

You alternate between all the methods you know. The one that really seems to get her is when you drive your thumb into the knots and end with a little circle.

Cassandra is –God help you— openly moaning every time you press more. It is a bit too much pressure you’re applying though and you don’t know if you’re hurting her and she’s just into it.

“Is this too much…?” you ask. Fuck, why do you sound so breathless?

“No, it’s good.” she husks back.

“Harder?” You don’t know what innocent means, anymore.

Cassandra sends that little smirk again over her shoulder. “Harder.” she replies and the extra flair she puts into it is enough to nearly fry your brain. And other parts of you.

You’re pretty sure you need a cold shower by the time you leave her room.

...

At diner, you hang back in the shadows, gaze downcast.

You do not need to know what the Dimitrescu family is eating, nor what they’re drinking. You do not need to see Cassandra or risk catching Daniela’s gaze. You love your anonymity in the castle. It has kept you alive.

But it is shattered like frail glass when you bring another bottle of Sanguis Virginis to the table. You’ve almost retreated back to your place, when Daniela’s eyes zero in on you.

“She’s the human!” she exclaims like she’s made the world’s most startling discovery. Bela seems to understand, but the Lady and Cassandra frown over their glasses.

“I am almost afraid to ask, love.” Lady Alcina says…

And she’s right.

“The one who made Cassandra go ‘harder’ and ‘yes, yes!’ earlier this evening.” she impersonates in her sluttiest voice and then breaks into a fit of cackles. Bela’s lip twists into a withheld chuckle.

Lady Dimitrescu nearly chokes on her wine.

Cassandra slaps the back of Daniela’s head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Girls.” Alcina warns and glares until the table calms again.

Then, her eyes curiously fall upon you.

So much for your anonymity.

Ko-Fi

[twdeadfanfic]

Vows Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary: 

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting... (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

N/A: I wrote several chapters of this months ago (Before 10C...) , but never felt like posting them once the show came back (and saddened me), and so I kept them for myself. But here’s the first chapter I wrote, in case any of you might be interested in reading this.

Everything was wrong.

You were supposed to win this.

You all had gone to fight Negan and his Saviors even if neither of you were sure about being able to come on top, wondering if you all were going there to die, trying to make use of Dwight’s intel…only to find that Negan had used him, misleading you all, right to an ambush, towards which seemed almost the whole group of Saviors aiming at you, and it was a big, huge group.

Daryl had stepped in front of you as if he could shield you, before you could do the same for him, while Negan made one of those stupid speeches of him and berated Rick…Daryl got his rifle ready and so did you, if you were going to die, you’d die fighting and putting down as many Saviors as you could.

But then, something had happened. The guns of the saviors had malfunctioned, exploding on the Savior’s hands, hurting them. It seemed that Eugine had done something to those, judging by the punch that one of the Saviors gave him. You all had taken advantage of it and of the distraction that it created, and for a moment, you had dared to have hope, to believe that you could win this…

You couldn’t. Maybe in another universe, but not in this one.

There had been too many saviors who hadn’t used those manipulated guns, gunning down your friends and people, until Rick called to a stop, and you weren’t sure if the Saviors weren’t just going to just shoot you all dead, but Negan called to a stop too.

So there you were now, on your knees, next to Daryl and your people, both dead and alive, while Negan walked around you all, grinning and swinging that barbed bat, while the Saviors pointed guns at you all. It reminded you of your first encounter with Negan, which you had survived…you supposed you wouldn’t survive this one…you looked around at your defeated friends, feeling like crying, but you wouldn’t give those assholes that satisfaction.

“You all have balls, I give you that,” Negan was again talking, you knew by now that he loved to hear himself speaking. “But you all are idiots. This could have worked, we all could have been happily together, but of fucking course, Rick here had to do something and lead you all with him, and now, people have to die.”

Negan had stopped in front of Rick, and he placed his bat under his chin, the spikes digging into Rick’s skin, drawing blood as he made him lift his head to look at him. “Look at you. You didn’t have enough getting Carl killed, now you are going to get all these people killed too.”

Rick lost it at that, trying to get up, growling, trying to throw himself at Negan, which seemed to be what that asshole was expecting and hoping. He hit the head of the bat onto Rick’s stomach, not hard enough to hurt him badly, but enough to leave a bruise and to knock the air out of his lungs and send him to the ground with a grunt as he tried to recover his breath.

You heard Michonne and Daryl growl next to you and you shook your head at them, terrified of them trying something and Negan killing them right there, you thought he might kill you all either way, probably, but if there was a chance of some of your friend not dying, you’d do whatever you could to ensure it.

Negan noticed it, giving you a smug smile before he looked at Michonne, the smile turning into a full grin while Michonne glared at him, looking just a second away from trying to cut Negan into pieces with her katana, but finally reaching to help Rick instead.

Then, Negan stopped in front of Daryl, and dread filled you. “Look at this…my escaped, feral, stupid dog…” He grinned, lifting Daryl’s head with the bat like he had done with Rick, though Daryl’s eyes were still low.

You knew how the time that Daryl had to spend tortured at the Sanctuary had traumatized him, and now you could see it right there in front of you, how Daryl was looking, so defeated and done. You hated it.

“Well, dog…you’ve been a bad boy.” Negan pressed the bat harder into Daryl’s skin, drawing blood, and you dig your nails into your palms to stop yourself from doing or saying anything. “I’m going to take you back home to your kennel and I’m going to show you what happens to bad dogs that run away, and it won’t be only like what I did to Dwight.”

Negan threatened with that grin still on his face, but Daryl did nothing, still seeming so defeated, he didn’t move or made a sound while Negan ran the bat from his chin down his neck and to his shoulder, the spikes scratching the skin, creating blood patters, and you almost couldn’t control yourself at that.

Negan stepped back, signaling to some saviors to go and grab Daryl to take him back to the Sanctuary, and sure, it was good that he wasn’t going to kill him, but you couldn’t deal with Daryl being taken prisoner again, to that place that had traumatized him, to be tortured in an even worse way until he died or Negan got bored and killed him…no, you couldn’t let Daryl go through that, you couldn’t…

“Wait!” You jumped onto your feet, startling everyone, and Daryl, who hadn’t moved a muscle for himself, seemed to try to go to you, eyes betraying how scared he was, but the Saviors were already holding him back.

“Someone wants to die first.” Negan turned to face you, bat ready.

“No, no, wait, wait! Please, please!” You begged, holding your hands in front of you and dropping onto your knees again, in front of him, ready to beg on your knees if that’s what it took to save Daryl, hoping like hell that Negan wasn’t just going to bash your head, but he stopped the bat right on time. “You want wives, right? That’s what you do with women, yeah?” You said, voice shaking, you had heard about that. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your wife!” You heard Daryl struggling, but you didn’t look back at him, eyes on Negan.

“Well, now, now, now…look at that…” Negan chuckled, giving you a smug smile while he twirled his bat. “Someone’s throwing herself at me with open arms and open legs to save her pretty neck.” You bit your tongue at that. “Sure…why not, it’d be less wasteful than killing you. Alright, sweetheart, deal, you can come with us.” He nodded to the Saviors behind him.

“What the hell are you doin’?!” You heard Daryl’s yelling, and you wondered if he thought that you were betraying them or if he knew what you were trying to do. You ventured a look at him and you saw it in his eyes, he knew what you were doing, and he was not having it. You knew he wouldn’t have let you do this, that he’d have gotten himself killed to stop it, and you were glad for the Saviors who were holding him back as he struggled.

You saw some of your friends looking at you like they wanted to do something, whether they thought that you were betraying them or knew what you had in mind. But after what had happened in your first encounter with Negan, everyone seemed not to want to risk it, doing nothing, and you were glad of it. You didn’t want to turn this into an even bigger blood bath.

“Poor doggy…” Negan taunted Daryl while the Saviors who were holding him threw him to the ground when he kept struggling and cursing, holding his arms behind his back, tying them and pinning him to the ground, from where he looked at you, scared and desperate, and you couldn’t keep looking at him. “His girl stepping out of him…don’t blame her, she’s a smart girl.”

You got up again, looking at Negan trying not to let your anger get the best of you, you wanted to solve this, not make it worse. “I’ll marry you,” you repeated. “But you won’t kill any of these people. That’s the deal.”

Negan looked you up at down as if surveying you, a smirk growing on his face. “That’s a shitty deal, don’t you think? I let everyone live while getting one single wife? Half of the people here should be proposing to me so I let the other half live.” Negan waved the bat around as he chuckled.

Well, damn. This wasn’t going as you had hoped. “I…I can be a handful,” you said, giving thanks for whatever had made you come with a quick answer that seemed to amuse Negan.

“I see…” Negan seemed to survey you again.

“Nobody dies, they keep working for you, and I marry you and do whatever you get those women doing for you,” you said, trying not to shudder. “Seems like a pretty good deal, if you ask me.”

“Well…” Negan looked from you to Daryl, who was struggling on the ground, pointing his bat at him. “I should ask him if it’s a good deal. Is it worth, doggy? Letting all your sorry asses live…just so I can have a piece of that ass?” Negan seemed thoroughly amused with himself and he slapped your butt, making you gasp in surprise, which seemed to amuse him more.

“You don’t fuckin’ it touch her!” Daryl growled, trying to get up, but Saviors kept holding him down, shoving him back to the ground roughly. “Don’t touch her!”

“Oh, it seems I’m going to be touching my new bride a lot...” Negan was enjoying this, that much was obvious, his hand was back on your butt, and you summoned all your willpower to not slap him, before he looked at you. “Okay, darling. We got a deal.” Despite the situation, despite what you were walking yourself into, you were so relieved at those words that you could cry. “Get him into the truck,” he told to the saviors who were holding Daryl, and they lifted him from the ground, trying to drag him and hitting a rifle into his stomach when he kept growling and struggling.

You looked at Negan at that, stopping your impulse of throwing yourself at the Saviors who were hurting Daryl. “What?! I’m marrying you! We have a deal!”

“Yes, sweetheart, we have.” Negan grinned at you. “You marry me, I don’t kill him, but he’s coming with us to the Sanctuary, his cage is waiting for him.”

“No! You-”

“You rather have me killing him right here, right now?” Negan threatened, pointing his bat to Daryl, and you shook your head quick. “Then he’s coming back to the Sanctuary, and I promise you, dear bride, I won’t kill him.”

You hated that Daryl was going back to that damn place, but it didn’t seem like you could get anything better, and you couldn’t let Negan kill him, so you nodded. “You won’t torture him. That’s part of the deal.”

“A little demanding, aren’t you?” Negan told you, sounding amused, before he turned his smug grin to Daryl. “Is she like this in bed, too?” Daryl growled, struggling against the Saviors that held him, and he was hit again, to the face this time, and you winced, fighting against every fiber in your body that urged you to go help him. “I guess I’ll find out soon…I’m gonna be fucking your girl this night.”

Negan chuckled and Daryl struggled again, even if he looked defeated, his nose bleeding, and when his wet eyes looked at you, you almost break down. “Y/N. Don’t do this.”

“Don’t worry, Daryl.” Negan wrapped an arm around you and you almost shoved him out of instinct. “I’m going to be taking such good care of her.” Daryl struggled again, growling and yelling, only to be hit again and dragged towards a truck, and you tried your best not to cry, hoping that it would be the last time that Saviors hurt him, if Negan kept his part of the deal.

“Alright, darling…” Negan addressed you again, but he was looking at your people, not at you. “Nobody dies. But Daryl is not the only one we are taking with us.”  You didn’t say anything, it didn’t feel like you could do much else, and you hoped that being taken into the Sanctuary would be better than being dead…

“Those two backstabbing assholes.” Negan waved his bat towards Eugine and Dwight, and then to the truck. “Load them up…you’re gonna regret this.” Then, Negan crouched down in front of Rick, grabbing his chin and digging his fingers in his cheeks, making him look at him.

“Rick, listen to me, listen, okay?” He made Rick nod. “You’re coming with us, and you and I? We are going to have so much fun.”

“You can’t torture him, that’s part of the deal!” You rushed to say. “Not killing, not torturing!”

Negan looked at you without letting go of Rick. “I wonder if I’m going to regret marrying you soon…” You didn’t know if that was a threat or not, but he went back to look at Rick, turning his head to make him look at Michonne.

“I’m leaving your woman here, okay, Rick?” He made him nod again. “So she can be in charge of Alexandria and make sure everything is going nice and smooth, and if any of you cross me again, if anyone gives any trouble, I’ll cut something off Rick and deliver it to you,” Negan told to Michonne, smiling in that menacing way. “Starting with his cock in case you’ll be missing it. Got it?”

Michonne nodded curtly and Negan smiled before waving at his Saviors, who tied Rick’s arms like they had done to the others and dragged him to the truck, while Negan walked your people’s line up and down again.

“You…” He pointed his bat at Maggie. “You’re pregnant…and I think that could become much of a fuss, you're staying…unless…” Negan grinned and you didn’t like it. “Unless you’re looking for a new baby daddy?”

You wanted to kill Negan at that, and for sure, Maggie wanted to. You had seen her angry and murderous before, but nothing like that. She growled, trying to get up and go for Negan, but Michonne was fast, reaching for her, making her kneel again, holding her and struggling to keep her in place.

Negan didn’t do anything, though, just turned to look at you, seeming amused, and he seemed to wait for you to snap again, as if trying to get a reaction out of you, but you didn’t, and so he kept walking, stopping in front of Carol and Ezekiel, studying them. “You.” He pointed the bat at Ezekiel. “I want you to meet my kingdom now.” Negan chuckled and Ezekiel just nodded while the Saviors tied his arms and made them get up. You weren’t sure if Carol was going to do something, but Jerry reached out to hold her arm, and she stayed silent and unmoving.

“You.”  Negan stopped in front of Aaron and you couldn’t help yourself.

“No, not him! He has a baby to take care of…please?” You tried, Negan seemed to like it when you begged, and so he nodded.

“Alright…wedding gift…” He chuckled before pointing his back to Rosita. “You…unless you want to marry me too, sweetheart? I saw the way you were looking at me in Alexandria once.” Negan grinned, winking, and Rosita stayed silent. “No? Okay…load her up…also, you.” He pointed the bat at Gabriel this time. “You and I aren’t done speaking, Gabby…and I’m gonna need more absolution.” He chuckled.

Once the Saviors had dragged Rosita and Gabriel to the truck, Negan kept walking around your people, twirling his bat. “I know that you all have at least a doctor with you…Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Siddiq got up at that and Negan grinned menancly at him. “You work for me now, got it?” He asked, and Siddiq nodded in silence. “Good boy, come on, get yourself in one of those trucks.”

Once Siddiq had been scorted to another truck, Negan looked at everyone else again.

“Okay…okay, I think that’s enough for now…Now I want you all to bury all these people that you got killed, and you go back to work, getting stuff for me, and you all better fucking behave for now on, are we clear? Or not even…what was your name, darling?” He turned to look at you again.

“Y/N.”

“Or not even Y/N’s sweet piece of ass is going to stop me from sending you parts of the people that I have in that van.” He waved the bat towards it. “And coming back for more. Got it? I want you all to say: yes, Negan, now.”

“Yes, Negan.” There was a chore of angry, defeated, mournful voices, and Negan’s smug smile was back on his face. You resisted the urge to scoff, he really got off to this.

“I’ll see you all next week, starting with Alexandria.” Negan looked at Michonne, who didn’t say anything, before turning to you, reaching out his hand. “Come on, sweetheart, you’re riding with me in my car. Time to become one of my awesome, awesome wives.”

Everything seemed to move faster from then, or maybe you just were feeling dazed, but soon you were sat down in Negan’s car, anxious, scared about the people that you had left behind, scared about the people inside the van that was following Negan’s car…your people, your family, your Daryl…you hoped that this would work, that they would be safe if you married Negan, or at least alive and not tortured…you knew that they didn’t want to be prisoners at the Sanctuary and that the others didn’t want to work for Negan either, but it was better than being dead.

You hoped so bad that this would work…

Negan was glancing at you all the time and it was making you more nervous. When you finally looked at him, he gave you that smug smile, looking you up and down. “I can’t wait to see what’s under all that dirt, sweat, blood, and baggy clothes.” He chuckled and you scoffed, looking away from him again. “You’re going to love the Sanctuary.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed again. “Sure I will.”

It didn’t matter if you hated it, though, or how it would be your life there, what mattered was that your family would be okay, that Daryl would be as safe as you could get him, and to get that, you knew you’d endure anything.

Once at the Sanctuary, you watched anxiously as your friends were unloaded from the truck. Everyone seemed to know that there was no point in fighting, they’d get killed and there might be potential retaliation on the others, and so they let the saviors lead them inside the Sanctuary without any struggle…all besides Daryl. He began struggling as soon as he was dragged out of the truck, cursing and trying to shake the saviors off him, until he was hit again.

“We wouldn’t, if he stopped making a scene,” Negan said before you could say anything about that.

Daryl kept struggling nonetheless, his eyes looking for you, until he found you. “Please,” you mouthed silently, looking at him, begging him to not make this more difficult, to not end up more hurt, while your eyes filled with tears. “Please.” Daryl looked at you, struggling again, but he seemed defeated, and you hated that look on him, but it was for the best, and finally, he was dragged away with the others.

“Well, well…this…” Negan waved between you and him, seeming amused. “Might end up killing your bitch Daryl after all.”

You could have punched him, it was a dart to your heart, but you tried your best to stay in line. “Yeah, well…” You muttered. “A bat to the head will kill him for sure, so I’ll take the chance with this.”

Negan didn’t say anything, just chuckled, tugging you with him into the Sanctuary. You had to stand yet another of those damn speeches of him to everyone in the Sanctuary, perched up on top of the staircase, and then he led you through the Sanctuary and to the part that was reserved for him and his wives.

Negan opened a door that was guarded by two saviors, and as you walked inside, you found yourself in a big room, decorated with what looked like expensive, luxurious furniture, a tv, bowls of fruit, fake plants and flowers over the tables, and a bar on a corner. It seemed so out of place in this new world and in this shit place, that you had the same surreal feeling as you had the first time that you walked into what would become your house in Alexandria.

Several women were sitting down on the couches, some talking, some going through magazines and books, but all eyes went to Negan and you as the door opened.

It seemed like Negan didn’t have a single type of women, or that he married anything that allowed it. There were two blondes, one younger than the other, the older one looking at you suspiciously, same than a redhead, a black woman who looked at you with more kindness, a brunette whose pretty hair was pinned into an intricate bun, and another brunette with tanned skin and dark eyes that darted from Negan to you. All of them were wearing black, short dresses in different sizes and models, and their makeup and hair were put together as if it weren’t the end of the world, a  stark contrast with how you were looking.

“Hi, ladies, daddy is home.” Negan grinned and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“Hi, Negan,” they all greeted, stopping whatever they had been doing…he trained them well, you guessed.

“Look what I brought, a new friend for you all and a new wife all for me,” Negan grinned, pushing you in front of him. “This is Y/N and…look at this! We lost Sherry but now with Y/N I got to have seven wives again, one for each day of the week!”

Some of the women said nothing, a couple gave him tense smiles, one tried to giggle awkwardly, and you couldn’t help your snort and the roll of your eyes. He was such a prick and an idiot.

“Something to say, dear?” Negan looked at you with that menacing smile and you shook your head. “Okay, ladies, I want you all to be good girls and show Y/N the ropes. I need to take care of some things first, but when I’m back, I want Y/N cleaned up nice for us to…consume the marriage.” He chuckled and you began to take conscience of what was going to happen and what you had agreed to be. The women nodded in silence and Negan turned to look at you. “I’ll see you soon, dear wife.”

Suddenly, his lips were on yours, and you almost shoved him away, shocked, but managed to stop yourself. Still, when Negan pulled away, he seemed amused, giving you a teasing look as if he knew what was going through your mind. Negan didn’t say anything else, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

*

It’s the first time I post something that I haven’t finished, as you know, 10C killed my writing Daryl mood, can’t barely think on him anymore (therefore, this is not as curated and edited as my other fics because I didn’t re-read that much), so I even though I have several chapters of this writen, I can’t promise what I’ll do with it.

As always, comments and reblos are more than welcome, and excuse my English, is not my first language.

Please, let me know if you want to be removed (or added) to the taglist.

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[sleeplessangelsgame]

I posted a prompt list on TLOTG’s page, and someone requested Abel with the prompt ‘caress’, so I figured you would all like to see it!

caress .   gently  caress  my  muse’s  face .

“Careful,” I warned him, my hands stilling on the curve of his jaw. The manipulation treading on the edge of my fingertips sizzled in anticipation, but I leveled a stern look at Abel, anyway.

It had taken some time to convince him to finally settle down, and it had taken some compromise on my part, too. We ended up on the overstuffed leather couch in his apartment, him sprawled along its cushions and me settled on the edge, just enough so I could focus on fixing the fading scar on his cheek.

He opened his eyes and met my gaze, a smoldering glint in his dark irises. I knew that look in his expression well.

“I thought you liked danger, little seeker.” It wasn’t a question, but Abel waited for response anyway, the faintest brush of his fingers against my hip making my breath catch.

“You’re playing with fire,” I told him, flicking my fingers for emphasis. “I could draw whatever I wanted on your pretty face, and then what would you do?”

Abel grinned. “Beg you to remove it. Among other things.”

“Oh? Other things?” Heat stirred in the pit of my stomach, but I managed to sound casual all the same. When I ran my fingers against the edge of his defined jaw, he swallowed hard, his hand moving to wrap around my waist. Keeping me close, perhaps, or even to lure me closer.

“Whatever you like,” he finally said. His tone dipped low, and it took all my willpower not to falter and land right in his arms. Instead, I summoned the surge of power numbing my fingertips, wiping away the healing scar on his cheek with merely a brush of my thumb.

Just like that, his face was unblemished from the sign of a fight.

“You make it sound easy,” I told him quietly.

He gave me a scorching smile that sparked a fire under my skin.

“You and me? We have the world at your fingertips.”

[bread-elf]

DWC 2021 - Day 7

Disclaimer: Some sensitive contents in this post are described vaguely, but may not suitable for some readers. Viewer discretion is advised.

Soul Warlords of Draenor, pre Legion pre-patch Drax’ara Duskrunner feels his bruised and battered body ache, shoulders burning as his arms are wound up tight behind him around the pillar. He knew he wasn’t the only one bound up, so were his brothers as well, captured by a personal enemy of his family. The Orc Warlock prowls around his makeshift prison, taunting and humiliating his brothers with obscene gestures and torture tools. He can hear the rage stemmed in his brother’s groans and yells. Not only that, he could hear the sniffling and sobbing of some of the women that were trapped here with them. Completely innocent of these transgressions, just having had the unlucky circumstance in having an romantic interest in the brothers. One of them didn’t even have a genuine interest in one of the brothers, a small human woman by the name of Amber, who had just enjoyed spending time with one of them as a friend.

Drake kept his eyes closed, hearing all the sounds of distress and torment around him. But there was one he couldn’t hear, though he knew she was here somewhere, bound up just like him. Dread filled his heart, not knowing the state of her condition. Once again he tries to call forth the Shadows he uses so often, but runes etched onto his skin flare up and he gets singed by them, forced to stop as the pain rockets through his body. “You should know by now that isn’t going to work.” The Warlock begins to tread near, as if he had been watching in secret all this time. Drake might have believed that, if it wasn’t for the fact in his hand he held a pair of bloodied forceps. “When I get out of here…” Drake begins to threaten, but it’s cut off as he shudders in pain. He tries to contain it, but the old Orc starts to let out a raspy laugh. “Hahaha! Oh no no no, Duskrunner, you don’t understand-” The Orc’s robes trail behind him as he steps closer, kneeling beside Drake. Once down he rests one arm over his propped knee casually, and the other grabs hold of the Kaldorei’s shoulder. “This is it. This is our final dance. Our feud ends here!” His free hand motions outward, still holding the forceps, and even comes around and taps Drake on the chest with them. “No more games. I’ll be taking what’s rightfully mine; your souls.” Drake spits on him, causing the Orc to recoil a bit. His hand draws away from Drake’s shoulder, and gives the elf a fierce punch. Something snaps and Drake feels his jaw slack after the initial blow. “Wallow while you still have the chance! I’ll be taking the soul of your ‘beloved’ first.” The Orc takes his heavy steps away as Drake begins to struggle with his bindings for the thousandth time. Off in the distance outside Drake could hear some wolves howling. He couldn’t tell where in Azeroth they all were, but it had to be deep in the wilderness and away from any forms of civilization. A few moments later, someone inside the makeshift prison begins to start howling as well. One of the women, it sounded like Amber. But it gets the Orc’s attention, and Drake can hear him storm on over towards where she must be. “You stupid HUMAN!” The Orc roars out, followed by the sound of a loud smack, then a wail from the small human. As the beatings go on Drake hears the wolves from outside howl again. But his heightened hearing picks up something else, his long ear giving a twitch. Some sort of metal was straining, partially covered by the sounds of the howling and fighting. The Orc stops and starts to walk away, but the human begins to once more try to howl again, but oh so weakly. But the Orc rounds back on her again. “What sort of pathetic nonsense are you doing?! Did I break you already?!” Another smack, a hard one, and there’s an immediate silence that follows from Amber. However, there’s suddenly a loud bang, stealing the Orc’s attention. “Huh?” It happens faster than Drake can process. Someone gives a battle cry, and in front of Drake’s view the Orc is suddenly shoved hard to the ground, the culprit a very tall Draenei woman. Clothes tattered and one of her horns missing, she looks battered but by pure willpower she overpowers the Orc by strength for a moment. Yet Drake could hear sounds happening from elsewhere in the area, a low growling as he then catches the scent of wildlife, of wolves. The Orc gains his bearings, and collects his strength. Fel fire is summoned in his hands, harshly grabbing hold of the Draenei who had put him off. The cries out in pain, already weak as is and unable to fight back, and the Orc shoves her away roughly. The Draenei tumbles hard to the floor, Drake unable to do anything, but then more beings scuffle into view. “What the-?!” The Orc is completely surprised by the pack of wolves that barge in, snarling and barking at him as they all suddenly approach. A large pack too, at least ten wolves that Drake could count right off the bat, though his attention is turned away as he sees the small human Amber crawling towards him. Face swollen with bruises and blood, looking far more

than just worse for war, but with trembling hands she crawls up to help undo the bindings that kept Drake in place. Watching her carefully, the skin on the back of her neck bristled almost like the wolves that now harassed the Orc, but Drake didn’t think too deep into it. It takes a moment, but she manages to get him free, and he moves his arms away to begin to stand. The runes that prevented him from using his shadow magic still affected him, but all he needed was his hands to strangle the life out of the Orc. His footing staggers as he steps forward, blood rushing and already having lost some, but he had to help his brothers. Through Amber’s antics others were beginning to get freed as well, the weakest being ushered away, though Drake finds a large pair of shears, old blood stains coating the rusty blades, but it will have to do. “You foul beasts!” The Orc had resorted to throwing fel fire at the wolves, most backing away to avoid the blows but a few still getting seared. “I’ll make rugs out of all of you-” He’s cut off as Drake suddenly intercepts him, the rusted blades aimed for the Orc’s heart, but the old warlock still had hardened warrior senses. And with how weak Drake already is, the warlock manages to outdo Drake in strength and knock the blades aside, and soon enough the Kaldorei as well. “Oh, I have had enough of these games!!” The Orc no longer amused. The fel fire begins to vanish from his hands, and instead an eerie and sickly glow of green attunes them. “You’re going to be the first! Damn the others!” Hands outreached, a zap of energy suddenly penetrates Drake, and he begins to feel his very life essence begin to drain away. “N-No-” Drake tries to stand, but suddenly collapses, getting weaker and weaker by the second. The glow of his eyes began to dwindle bit by bit, finding it harder to keep himself even upright. But the Warlock can only have a few glorious moments of that before he stops abruptly, a choked gasp escaping him as his body lurches from a glaive gouging into his back and through his chest. He stumbles a bit, having trouble processing the blood beginning to spill, but when he falls Drake can see who had the skilled aim to throw. Tattered and beaten much like the others, Jiroki stands there gasping heavily for breath. But her eyes are fixated on the Orc who struggles on the ground, unable to see Drake or anything else around her. “Th-this is n-not- the end-” His voice had become much raspier, beginning to cough and spewing some blood. “I-I will- have-” He can’t finish his words due to the blood, looking right at Jiroki. But the woman holds something out for him to see, a green growing crystal. The Warlock’s eyes widen. “No- NO-” By some miracle the Orc begins to push himself to stand, seeing his soulstone in the hand of the Kaldorei woman. Jiroki collapses to her knees, resting one hand on the stone floor while the other holds up the stone, and she begins to bash it against the ground repeatedly, intent on destroying it. The Orc makes a rapid succession of steps towards her, but Drake then plows right into him and knocks him over, keeping the Orc down with whatever last bits of strength he can muster. The soul stone cracks and pieces crumble off as Jiroki continues to smash it, some bits cutting into her hand and even smashing her fingers hard on the pavement, but she’s not content until the inner core is ruined and it breaks into pieces. An expulsion of foul magic emits from it, causing her to recoil back, but not recoil as badly as the Orc begins to do. His soul fragment being torn asunder, and the rest of his soul having nowhere else to go as his own life essence fades. To the very last he tries to rebel, until he’s an angry, bitter mess on the floor. Drake shoves the body away from him and starts to crawl towards Jiroki, who began trying to smash remnants of the crystal into more pieces. He reaches forward and snags hold of her wrist, trying to get her to stop, but she fights back and tries to persist for a time longer before he forces her into her arms. “Stop, stop-” Trying

to call her back to her senses. “He’s dead, you did it, stop-” Jiroki can’t even tell that it’s Drake trying to grab her, screaming at him and trying to pull away. Though shortly her body begins to tremble as it sinks in, her anger vaguely ebbing away just enough. The moment a sob forces its way out of her he claims her and rests his head over hers, holding her tightly as she then clings to him. @daily-writing-challenge

[af1899]

FEH - Finally got the first merge on Hoshidan Summer Micaiah + appreciation post

With [Hall of Forms] now finished and all the rewards obtained, I can now rest at ease forgetting it, so I went to [Forging Bonds] and just got the last [Divine Codes: Ephemera 8] to give Micaiah her well earned merge, and here it is, her RES bane is no more.

While I don't see her often in [AR-D], I've come to understand why she's a good option here: she fills a very unique niche as a refresher with min-maxed attack and resistance that deals effective damage on armored and cavalry units, she aged really well as a unit despite her having one of the lowest BST values of her class but her refine will eventually come out and make her outstanding, I'll wait for it before I invest too much in her.

Anyway, this is not what I appreciate Micaiah, so I'll tell you a little story below and sum up my reasons, there'll be minor spoiler warnings and it's a tad too extensive but I hope you'll find it an interesting read if you do look on it.

I've known about her ever since I started to play Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn after I got my black Wii back in 2015 for my birthday and unlocked it to sideload USB games some time after, but it took me a little to feel like trying it and get it running, I used to be a guy that just trained whoever seemed likeable enough from looks so that I could get on, not as attentive with the plot of every game I play as I am now, but I've started to change that around the time I've started Final Fantasy VIII on the second half of 2019, a game that was truly legendary and emotional Imo.

This is more or less how I've come to known her, but I want to share what sparked interest on me for her:

It took me exactly two weeks to realize I wanted her so badly, it helped that when Lilina was announced, I'd need a [Feh Pass] subscription for just this month, and I got it with help from a friend, to date, I'm still grateful to that user for the support and for us to continue upholding a strong bond.

In any case, when the time came, I realized how charming this skin was, it's one of the best we've gotten, the Hel thematic looks wonderful on her (what a delightful blend of colors and precise styling by Sachie, same person that made the art for Legendary Julia and Sara, yes, more favs 💜) and the art is overall just too good but the best piece out of the four is the normal one I think, and I'll explain why while covering my favorite part of character talking: personality.

Micaiah is a kind and caring girl towards those she holds dear, specially the people of the country she eventually leads as a queen: Daein, located in the Tellius continent.

«I don't really like crowds. Sometimes, I sneak off to the forest to catch a break. I'm guessing the guiding hand of this army might need a break, too!»

— Micaiah: Priestess of Dawn, Fire Emblem Heroes.

She also has a bit of a bitter side but that's not how she normally comes off, yet, this doesn't come out without a reason, she was born a Branded (a human born from a human and laguz unity that end up getting a special power and an irremovable brand somewhere in their body, highly discriminated in Tellius), she had to hide her brand to anyone but her closest friends like Sothe so that she's not mistreated.

She's highly capable of selflessness, symbolized through that power she's gotten: [Sacrifice], it heals the target's wounds at the cost of her life force, she can recover just fine, but it exhausts her in return. This has allowed her to heal without staves and get the recognition from her people in Daein, like when she was first fleeing Begnion forces in Nevassa (capital city of Daein) while repelling bandit attacks, the citizens blocked the path when Micaiah and the Dawn Brigade (it's a group she leads to liberate her country) flee, but before she could escape, she sensed danger, and spotted a young guy being hurt from an arrow a Begnion soldier shot to a child named Nico, who would remember Micaiah's act of kindness for nursing him back to health almost instantly.

There were some times in which Micaiah also had to make really tough decisions, for example: Ike's army was tasked by Apostle Sanaki of Begnion to escort her to her country as they were trying to uncover the vile senate's acts, they had to pass through Daein territory, but because of a [Blood Pact] (a contract that enforces its signer's obedience to avoid a greater catastrophe) that Pelleas (that's the former king of Daein's son) signed under the false pretention that was a peace treaty the senate proposed. Micaiah had to hinder Ike's army advancement to see if she can trick the Begnion senate so she sent her soldiers to fight for that... she wanted to give time to Pelleas so that he could find a way to remove the effects from the [Blood Pact], as they couldn't just be removed normally. She had to make those sacrifices all because of a contract, and she couldn't even just tell Ike that she was forced to follow orders, the attacks from Daein forces didn't make much sense to him naturally. It was her people or her soldiers, so she had to make such decisions that tested her willpower, yet she's strong at heart and carried out with the orders she was given.

In Fire Emblem Heroes, she doesn't talk much about those events, but that's because she wishes to be free from the chains of past days, even if for a moment, she shows a friendly personality towards the Summoner and still being herself. She became queen of Daein and led her people to an age of prosperity, welcoming both laguz and human alike.

Now, all this and more things you'd learn as you play Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn (or may remember from your playthroughs) show how strongly developed and compelling she is as a character, there's a lot going in her life and she lived many difficult moments, yet she got through and grew into a kind and strong-willed woman, she truly impressed me, and I think she's truly pretty, like, I mean:

(Artwork from Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn Memorial Book Tellius Recollection: The Second Volume)

I won't deny that the Resplendent skin is magnificent and gave me the last push-up to play her home game after a long time and learn more about her, but I could see what kind of character she is and what makes her truly special... true, she's not my "best girl" (see PFP) but I still hold her dear as if she was almost high up there. And it's said that "nothing beats the original", so I certainly love her original design.

Here's a little showcase of the other two variants of her I have, I'm missing only her Bridal alt and the possible Legendary one coming later in this month, but here are them:

I love all her official art and how it manages to bring out her friendliness and tender side.

I'm so glad that so far, I've lucked out well with her IVs save her Hoshidan Summer alt, and she appeared randomly when pulling for others most of the time, so it's great to have her now, even as-is.

Her Brave variant from 2019 should be getting a refine next month or any time for the remainder of 2021, I know it'll be good but I would already love to know what it'll do before I give her anything else.

...

And here ends my appreciation post and optional read, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me if you've come to enjoy it.

[killmytyme]

cherry cola | calum hood

image from this post by @siyahraat​

this fic is brought to you by @myloverboyash​​ absolutely destroying me with this text post, which I reblogged and went off in the tags and then couldn’t get it out of my head so I had to write out the entire scene. is this maybe the most self indulgent thing I have written in a really long time? yes. is this good? probably not. but i saw this whole cozy 3am snack run in my mind and had to get it out here somehow. 

warnings: none except for the most gross amount of fluff

word count: 2.4k

_______________

The thing is, you had been craving a cherry cola slushy all day. It was all you could think about for the whole day, but you knew you didn’t need one, so when you had gone out earlier you summoned your willpower and didn’t indulge. The problem was that now it was 3am and you couldn’t sleep, and all you could think about was the gas station a 10 minute drive away that had the cherry cola slushy you needed. The other problem was that Calum was fast asleep, and you really hated driving alone late at night. It had been hours now of you laying awake and only thinking about the slushy before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. You rolled over to face him and gently shook his shoulder.

“Cal,” you whispered, watching his face twitch as he started to stir. “Cal, wake up.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, blinking awake slowly. His arm reached out to pull you into him. “’S’wrong? You okay?”

“I need a slushy,” you say, pulling at him to move with you as you sat up. “We need to go get one.”

“Babe,” Calum’s eyebrows raised as he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. You knew what it would say, you knew how crazy this probably sounded. “It’s 3am, we can get slushies tomorrow.”

“No, Cal, I need a slushy,” you whine. “I know it’s 3am, I know it’s crazy, but I think I’m actually going to die if I don’t get a cherry cola slushy right now. Immediately.”

“Cherry cola?” There’s laughter in his voice, and you know you’ve won him over. “Babe, the best slushy flavour is blue raspberry. That’s just an objective fact.”

“Okay, well, it’s an objective fact, Calum Hood, that I am wasting away here without snacks or a slushy to sustain me!” You hop out of bed and grab the hoodie he tossed on a chair before he crawled into bed, throwing it at his face while he laughed at your dramatics. “If you loved me like you say you do, you’d get up and drive me, unless you want me going out at 3 in the morning by myself, which is dangerous and-” 

Your voice is cut off by the feeling of the hoodie you’d just thrown his way coming down over your head, and you squirm your arms up into the sleeves, Calum pulling the sweater down over your body.

“You’re lucky that I love you, you know that,” he says, smiling fondly at you. You grin back at him, the smile not leaving your face as he gets dressed and starts the hunt for his keys. “Who would have thought I’d find someone who drags me out of bed at ridiculous hours because they need a slushy, of all things, and I’m still in love with them.”

“It’s all part of my charm, you know,” you say as you tap your foot impatiently.

“If you say so.” He finally locates his keys and you both make your way out of the house and into the car. The night air is crisp, and the street is quiet in that way that only the middle of the night can be; still and peaceful, knowing you’re likely the only ones awake and moving, feeling alone but nowhere near lonely as Calum starts the car and intertwines your hands, backing out of the driveway.

You start pressing buttons on the radio to bring up some music for the drive, and he laughs when you land on the Top 40s station. At this time of the night it’s a DJ set, some local up and coming DJ getting the 3am slot to play terrible remixes to popular songs. Just your luck, you flipped to the station in time to hear Calum’s voice floating out of the speakers.

“Don’t you love this song?” you giggle, turning up the volume and singing along as the chorus starts.

“I wonder who it’s by,” he comments, playing along with you.

“It’s this band from Australia, they’re not that big so you probably haven’t heard of them. Pretty underground stuff.” You can’t stop giggling, and Calum couldn’t wipe the fond grin from his face if he tried. You get like this when you’re tired, silly and giggly, and it’s one of his favourite ways to see you. “They’re okay, their old stuff is better. Newer albums aren’t their best work.”

“Bold words from someone who hasn’t missed a beat singing along,” he squeezes your hand as he teases you, and even after all this time the simple action stirs up the butterflies that never seem to vacate your stomach when you’re around him.

“Hey, I never said I had good taste!”

“Clearly, you dragged me out of bed at 3am for a cherry cola slushy.” He laughs again at your mock gasp, but you don’t have time to defend your slushy choice before you realize you’ve driven by the gas station.

“Cal! You missed the turn, we need to-”

“Don’t you want other snacks? If we’re up, I kind of want cheese puffs. We can grab slushies on the way back, okay?”

“Calum Hood,” your voice is serious now, and he glances over with concern on his face. “You are a genius. Cheese puffs are exactly what I want. Can we get popcorn, too?”

“You can have everything you want, babe.” Calum turns the car into the grocery store parking lot and you learn your head back against the seat, facing him, and it occurs to you then that everything you want is just him and a thousand more midnight snack runs like this.

Once you get inside the store you both give apologetic waves to the cashier who nods tiredly at you and waves you in. The store is 24-hours but you both still feel that twinge of guilt walking in so late. Calum grabs a basket and starts heading to the snack aisle but you pull his hand back and gesture towards the produce.

“We have to walk the aisles! Like we always do,” you say, staring longingly at the rows of fruit.

“We always do that when we come here at 3 PM, not AM,” he says patiently. You ignore him, still staring at the apples until he sighs and gives in, letting you drag him through every aisle.

You each comment on things as you walk by them, falling into your usual store rhythm. One of the things you’ve always loved about Calum is his ability to make even the most mundane errand fun, the way he plays into your bits and lets you be unabashedly silly. He doesn’t think twice when you pause in front of the assortment of breads, fresh from the bakery, and ask in all seriousness for him to choose which bread he thinks most represents him.

“Kaiser buns,” he says without pausing to think.

“Yes!” you shout, and you both dissolve into giggles when a nearby associate jumps, clearly shocked by the noise. Calum calls out an apology as you continue to laugh. “Suits you. Crusty on the outside, soft on the inside,” you say through your laughter, poking him in the side.

“M’not crusty,” he says, tone offended, but you can tell by the crinkles around his eyes that he’s amused by your antics.

“You said kaiser! Not me!” You grab a bag for yourselves and toss them in the basket, much to Calum’s chagrin.

The rest of the trip goes just like that, pausing every few steps to delve into a deep discussion about white eggs vs brown eggs, or the best breakfast cereals, or the uses for the wide arrange of infused olive oils. By the time you make it to the check out you’ve spent far too much time in the grocery store, but the cashier, a woman with grey hair and kind eyes, smiles warmly at you as she rings you through.

Finally back in the car you dig out the container of cheese puffs and feed some to Calum as he drives. The DJ set is still going, this time the song is a mashup of two popular songs. You do your best to sing along but it’s switching between the two so quickly you can’t quite keep up, and Calum nearly has to pull over from laughing so hard at your attempts to follow along with the lyrics. In retaliation, you refuse to give him any more cheese puffs, pouting in an exaggerated manner at him.

When he pulls into the gas station and parks the car, he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your mouth in apology, murmuring a soft “sorry for laughing” against your lips.

“You’re only saying that so you can get more cheese puffs,” you sigh dramatically.

“You got me,” he smirks, lips still close enough that you can feel it on your skin before he pulls away and - the asshole - snatches the cheese puffs from you as he goes.

“Calum!” Your yell is met with just laughter as he hops out of the car, cheese puffs under his arm, and races into the gas station.

You catch up to him, giggling at how ridiculous your night has turned out, and find him standing in front of the slushy machine clearly deep in thought at his options. Under the cherry cola slushy dispenser sits an already full slushy cup, ready for you. You open your mouth to thank him and he shushes you, eyes squinting as they flick over the 6 flavour options he has to choose from.

The feeling that has been creeping up on you more and more frequently comes back again as you watch him. It’s the butterflies in your stomach, and the feeling that your heart is going to actually come bursting through your shirt with how full and warm you feel just looking at him. An hour ago he was fast asleep, and now here is he is with you, being silly and selecting a slushy flavour like it’s the most important decision he’s ever made. You’re so in love with him sometimes it overwhelms you, and it’s never in the moments you expect. It’s in small moments like these - in the back corner of a gas station at nearly 4am, under fluorescent lighting, wearing your rattiest clothing. It’s single minutes in time that make you positive there is never going to be anyone else for you, you only ever want to spend your 3am moments with Calum.

You’re roused from your staring when he moves towards the machine, moving your cup so he can place his directly under the cherry cola dispenser and flipping the lever. You make an indignant noise, and he shoots a smirk at you.

“You’ve been talking about it all night, I had to get it,” there isn’t even a hint of an apology in his voice for all of his teasing earlier, but you don’t even have it in you to rib him for it because you’re too focused on trying not to let how ridiculously happy these moments make you show on your face.

In fact, you wait to say anything at all until you’re back in the car, happily sipping on your slushies, the music acting as background noise now. Your hands are tangled again, and Calum’s thumb rubs softly on the top of yours.

“This slushy flavour actually is delicious,” he says eventually when you’re close to home, breaking your comfortable silence. “I understand now why you needed to get out of bed to get this. It really was an emergency.”

He’s smiling at you, but not in a teasing way. It’s the smile he gave you when you first met Duke and won the small dog over after hours of patiently sitting on the ground and waiting for him to come see you. It’s the smile he gave on the first night you moved into his house and he looked around at the mess of boxes among his things. It’s the smile he gave you when he walked off the stage the first time you unexpectedly showed up on tour to surprise him.

It’s the smile he can’t control, the one that comes out in his happiest moments. Those moments always include you.

“We should get married,” you blurt out. You feel your eyes widen slightly when you say it. You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even registered the thought before you were saying it. You knew, though, you wouldn’t take it back. You didn’t want to see 3am without him ever again, and you hoped he felt the same way.

“Okay,” he says easily, his happiest smile still shining bright on his face. “Wait, like now? There are some people who might actually kill us if we got married at 4am in sweatpants. Like, I think Luke might actually kick me out of the band if I rob him of the chance to dress up and attend a wedding. You know how he is.”

“Not now,” you laugh. “You’re right about Luke though. I just mean...we should. You know, at some point I’d like to get married.”

“Me too.” You’ve pulled into the driveway now, but neither of you make a move to exit the car. This moment feels small, but it also feels large and vulnerable in a way that even the sound of a door opening might break. “I kind of want to be woken up by you at 3am for slushies for the rest of my life.”

“Good,” you reply softly. He starts to lean towards you and meet him over the centre console, pressing your lips together. It doesn’t even make the list of the most passionate or heated kisses the two of you have shared, but somehow the soft press of your lips feels like more - feels like everything.

Later that morning you sit on the couch, his head resting in your lap as you chat about everything and nothing, finishing your snacks and watching the sun come up outside of the windows. In a way, this feels like everything, too. From the minute you shook his shoulder a few hours ago until now, it all feels like a moment that needed to happen, like the universe knew you needed this collection of small moments to get you here.

“Hey babe,” you say after a few moments of silence. He hums in response. “Do you think at our wedding we could have a cherry cola slushy machine?”

Calum bursts into laughter, but you can feel him nodding his head where it’s resting on your legs. “You can have everything you want, babe.”

He cuddles into you closer, and you can tell from his relaxed face that he’s drifting to sleep, and all you can think as you close your eyes is that you already have everything you want.

[sureliipan]

Any Lines Tag Game!

tagged by the one and wonderful @the-finch-address !

Rules: There are none. Post some lines just because you can. As a treat :D

cw: moderately grotesque imagery, violence, idk why go *depressive purple* but i liked this imagery most out of the whole wip

I turned East and closed my eyes. Slowly, through the blue-black-turning-red film covering my eyes, I sensed the Sun, peaking through jagged edges of the mountain.

It broke like an egg, oozing molten yolk upon the masses before me.

I tried to lift my arms, I summoned every shred of willpower to care enough, to fucking do as they pleased to-

I heard murmurs amongst the crowd. They were panicking, wondering why their High Priestess wasn’t greeting the Solstice Sun.

I couldn’t care less, I couldn’t care at all- not when Carna was- Carna

Think about Carna, flip my mind overtop of itself, push everything else out until she’s all that’s left. Carna, lazing in the pews, Carna, laughing at a joke I’d made, Carna playing the bass, Carna speaking, Carna existing. This didn’t follow, exactly, didn’t stick me under the table. I made it so there was no Sun, a cosmos where there was bliss blankness. There was no air, we were salted and vacuum-sealed into preservation, a place with no gravity, where my Carna was preserved, where she could shine and be alive and here.

But she wasn’t, and whatever is there to live for if-

Carna.

We’re all going to burn in the eyes of the sun, and the universe is indifferent and we’re-

Her cool hands on me, sandalwood and stars and a hint of dust, and why does it matter if she, if fucking Mirantha-

Carna. Carna smiling up from Sunflower Gutter. Carna decomposing in the gutter-

Carna is the answer, the wrong answer, a comfort, whom I need- heaven is Carna in the gutter. Hell is Carna in the gutter; there is only Carna in the gutter.

She told me- she fucking told me that she'd stare at the stars, no matter where she was, and now, consciousness slipping away, fucking Mirantha beating my head, I only repeat that one, grotesquely delicious mantra in my head.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Glassy-eyed- red-film; her name is just an “age” away from meaning death, and I black out.

Sweet death; honey on my lips.

@kinnywritestings and @goblingraveyard, (and maybe @maudlin--queer [finally shared this scene r u proud] cus miss girl is HILARIOUS) ur nxt!

[kazeofthemagun]

[So, I've talked about this before, and it has come up in a thread before, but: Magun possession headcanons. Essentially what already happens in canon, with Pist, when he steals it from Kaze and tries to use it. But expanded with blog lore.]

The Demon Weapons are the Unlimited's true vessels, housing their souls/lifeforce. That's precisely where their immortality comes from - their bodies may die, but their souls are tethered to the mortal realm so long as the Weapons still function. To truly kill Black Wind and White Cloud, one has to respectively destroy Kaze/Magun's heart, and Maken's spirit gem which holds Kumo's soul. (Kiri, the Red Fog, although not Unlimited, wielded a similar sword to Kumo - the Madou, which I *imagine* was also a Demon Weapon, perhaps an imperfect form or prototype of the Maken - and was brought back from the dead by Chaos because his soul was stored inside Madou. This is why the destruction of Madou's gem truly killed Kiri with no ability to bring him back again. Note how Kiri was unable to self-resurrect because he wasn't Unlimited and his soul was instead just imprisoned inside Madou.)

Okay, enough about Kiri, I always wonder just how he compares to the two Unlimited but can never give a satisfying answer... hrrrgh.

Back to talking about the Magun. As Kaze himself had said, only he can wield it (and select individuals who Kaze deems worthy). It's his literal heart and soul and thus accepts no will over his own. If the Magun is stolen, Kaze/Magun can and will fight the new 'wielder' in a variety of ways. First of all, integration of the Magun is very traumatic by nature, seeing as it connects to the bloodstream and uses one's blood or analogous liquid as a solvent for Soil and a summoning component. The Gun Dragon, sealed inside, has been known to outright kill ill-fitting wielders by forcibly disrupting their bloodstream/body temperature.

Alternatively, Kaze can allow the summoning to be complete, with the produced Esper immediately turning on the 'summoner' since it is commanded by the Magun and, in extension, Kaze, not them. This is what happens to Pist when he brings out the Red Gun Dragon and is instantly annihilated by it.

Technically, if the person picking up the Magun has no intention to summon with it, Kaze can force them to summon instead. As soon as one's hand touches the grip of the Demon Weapon, they're at the corresponding Unlimited's mercy. This is "Demon Weapon possession" and allows Kaze and Kumo to manipulate the would-be wielders' actions. For example: as seen in [[Wounds We Cannot Mend (still need to finish that bear with me @cursedfortune ;) Kaze's body had been killed and he was confined to the Magun. When it was picked up, the new wielder (Mortem) was momentarily (consentually, in this case) possessed, performing the summoning ritual as guided. Alternatively, if a summoning is unnecessary, Kaze (in post-series awakened mode, with full power regained) could technically use the possession method to temporarily pilot the other person's body to his cause, such as getting to another place without the need to wait for his actual body's next resurrection.

Essentially, attempting to wield the Magun against Kaze's will would be no different that trying to mentally wrestle with a powerful Esper and enslave it. It's a willpower check, one that is almost impossible to pass since by design the Demon Weapon can only be attuned to its Unlimited's will. Kaze is the Magun and the Magun is Kaze, so it's him who always gets the final word in on who gets to play with his gun, hah. They're one and the same once again after their severed connection is fixed.

Which is when Kumo finds he can no longer solve all of Kaze's bullshit behavior by simply one shot KO'ing him. Oh, noooo. They're equals again, playtime over. Deal with it ☁️ boy

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 66 – A Solution, a Dilemma, and an Ordeal

“Just as I’d thought.” 

Upon Frankenstein’s murmur, Takio and M-21 stuck out their faces from behind him towards the papers he was holding. 

Alas, they gave up straight away as their eyes locked upon the numbers, graphs, and charts incomprehensible for their level of knowledge.

Tao, the only person they could count on to translate them into human language(?) was busy fidgeting with the machine that just printed out the papers. 

Which is why they had to wait for Frankenstein to explain. 

And they showed the generosity of waiting until Tao could bring Yuigi from the machine. 

When the subject of the tests finally arrived, Frankenstein nonchalantly raised his glasses and began his lecture. 

“Simply put, I need to take a look at your head.” 

“What?” 

“Huh?” 

“Hmm?” 

Yuigi retorted in fluster, with Takio and M-21’s bafflement resonating in the background. 

Tao’s mouth was hanging open as well, his eyes very close to popping like a pair of balloons. 

“That was meant to be literal. There’s something in your head.” 

“...So Yuri that bastard did something under Crombel’s order, when I was imprisoned at his temporary lab.” 

Yuigi scowled as hard as she could and moved her hand to her temple.

She could not remember what happened back then, her memories blurry due to pain. 

She tried scrutinizing what was left of the pieces of her memories, but she could not find any scene holding Yuri doing something to her head.

Assuming it happened when she finally succumbed to pain, Yuigi focused her gaze upon Frankenstein, demanding more details.

Flapping the papers, Frankenstein landed upon the page about in the middle and turned it around for his small audience, displaying CT and MRI pictures of Yuigi’s head. 

The pictures were not so big, but the four of them could see very clearly something was there, their vision much more superior to normal human vision. 

They could see an array of spots, each of them much more miniscule than grains of sugar, scattered in the area where her frontal lobe would be. 

“I don’t need to tell you what I want you to look at, do I?” 

“No. But what’s this? Did something get into Miss Yuigi’s head?”

“Yup. I recalibrated that machine according to my manual, and I believe Crombel planted nanochips in your head, Yuigi.” 

“Nanochips...? Are you saying all those spots are...” 

Yuigi’s body heaved, as if she were just notified that the dinner she had yesterday was infested with cockroach eggs. 

“When I...” 

Frankenstein’s lips were shut in the course of his reply. 

The pull between his lips were so natural, like the sort that would exist only between two poles of a magnet. 

Which is why no one noticed that it was not his intention to halt in the middle. 

Calming himself by fingering his glasses, Frankenstein restarted himself as smoothly as he could. 

“When I left this place, I could get my hands on several files and data on the Union. Some of them were about Union arts and crafts we weren’t aware of, including this technique that employs nanochips. Since Union's main focus was on the mastery of body modification, nanochips were not exactly the favorite from Union’s shelf of goods. But I wouldn’t say they completely disregarded this technology, since it’s on the list of items that none other than Ignes took her time and effort and resources to study.” 

“So are you saying the nanochips in my head are Ignes’s creation?”

“Either Crombel snuck away her recipe to dissect and put it back up in a fashion he prefers. Or she stole some of the ingredients he was handling.” 

“So what exactly does this thing do?” 

“Consider it a remote control to make a marionette out of its host. One of the features of this nanochip happens to be automatically appropriating the host’s control over its body when the host finds itself in mortal danger, so to make sure the host will stay alive as long as its puppeteer wants.” 

The four humans gaped at him, confusion clear on their faces, and Frankenstein continued on, probably having foreseen this. 

“Remember what happened when I had a rematch with the 1st Elder right before our final showdown against Crombel? Back then he was under Crombel’s control. He served as Crombel’s battle figure, his mind in one piece, with only minimum amount of life force left in him.” 

“...With his willpower trapped within, watching and hearing and experiencing how his body is not his...?”

Yuigi muttered, the only one who did not take part in the aforementioned battle, apart from Tao, who had had wire updates on the situation. 

The three members of the RK knew why she looked so stunned when she had nothing to do with this occasion. 

“So... You’re saying the nanochips that Yuri injected into Miss Yuigi are...” 

“They were probably the prototype of the technology Crombel used upon the 1st Elder. You said when you were fighting with that Kornel guy, you couldn’t even speak before you had an outbreak of emotions and broke free from the unwelcome disconnection of your mind from body, right? Unlike you, at least 1st Elder could offer some words to me back then.” 

“Wait a minute. The gas we fired was based on a sample of Yuigi’s DNA.” 

“So maybe all the people who went through body modification are plagued with...” 

“Oh, don’t worry. The results show that the mechanism of body appropriation derives solely from these nanochips. And as you can see, these nanochips were inserted only in specific parts of her brain. So the victims won’t turn back to pseudo-zombies.” 

“So once these nanochips are gone...” 

“You can return to who you are. I’ll soon come up with a treatment, so I’d appreciate it if you could take your time and wait.” 

Yuigi nodded in affirmation, but in reality Frankenstein knew there was no need for a treatment. 

The only thing Frankenstein had to do was to draw out just enough power he needs to destroy the nanochips within all at once. 

However, he had to coin a specific treatment for the sake of another soul who was unofficially booked for a doctor’s appointment with him. 

Another reason why Frankenstein scurried from Lukedonia upon hearing Yuigi’s symptoms from Tao. 

And something that had been poking needles into his sanity way before the QuadraNet project joined to add trouble to his side. 

‘Lord Muzaka said that during the nuclear missile incidence, his body scrammed from the site on its own. Which would most certainly mean his body saved itself from mortal danger. I bet I can find the exact same nanochips in his head as well.’ 

If he were to be honest with himself, Frankenstein was dying to use this opportunity to his benefit, to broider the front and back of the werewolf lord’s head with big, fat, angry marks from his grasp. 

‘But I have no reason to turn the entire wolfkind into my enemy, after everything that has happened. Not to mention Lunark won’t be happy if she later finds out what...’ 

At then his hand froze in the middle of its frenzied waltz across Yuigi’s test results. 

It was neither in his intention nor in his cognition, yet his thoughts darted themselves right back to Lunark before he could stop them.

In fact, he was stunned for a moment back when he mentioned Ignes’s studies, for he was reminded of the werewolf warrior who visited his island to hand the files of the noble whom he destroyed himself. 

Now that his mind summoned Lunark twice, everything he regarded he had left behind in Lukedonia – his thoughts about her, his deliberation on her, and his feelings for her – cascaded right into his heart to cause furious ripples.

He came back to Korea to seek time to himself, but seemingly fate did not want him to waste his time taking refuge. 

Towards the room that the RK and Yuigi emptied, the sound of footsteps that Frankenstein would always notice regardless of time and place drew near. 

Which was a sign that he could hide no longer. 

“Master.” 

Raizel’s face was blank despite Frankenstein’s greeting, a natural response from a non-talkative noble. 

Which was why Frankenstein momentarily lost his control over his facial profile when Raizel dispensed a verbal reply to his greeting. 

“Still afraid, are you?” 

Raizel’s words drew Frankenstein’s ears right back to Earth, the blonde man mincing his lips. 

“Frankenstein. You treasure her.” 

Raizel usually leaves others untouched in terms of their emotional states, in respect of their respective owners. 

Yet here he was, volunteering to unwrap the subject as soon as he made his arrival, especially at a time like this, which gave Frankenstein good idea of how much he had been in anguish. 

And now that the topic was out in the open with Raizel’s courtesy, Frankenstein knew somehow sneaking past this topic is not an option for him. 

Considering where he was standing at this point, he knew he should at least touch on – no, definitely put an end to this dilemma. 

“I believe you already know she treasures you just as same. You would know the colors of symphony in your hearts have been identical for a long time.” 

Frankenstein’s lips were unmoving, his tongue dormant. 

“Know I well what you dread. You must have dreaded harming Lunark even little under the influence of the Dark Spear, as Lascrea attested. Remember I of how the Dark Spear absorbed Crombel and the shards of Blood Stone to attain greatest power in its history. And with Lunark recovering from the harm caused by the Dark Spear, I can feel how haunting the guilt of your heart is.” 

“...Then you would know. You would know that is exactly why I don’t deserve to...” 

“Do you still believe you will be a harm to her?” 

As mellifluous as crimson silk was Raizel’s voice, but Frankenstein had centuries of experience with his master to pick up how his tone steeled by the smallest of the shade. 

Which is why he unconsciously began retracing the facts instead of losing his words. 

“...No. I can no longer detect Crombel or Blood Stone within the Dark Spear.” 

Frankenstein was telling the truth. 

Although he had no chance to look back on exactly what Lunark did to him, too occupied with agony while standing guard by her bed, he could feel how the Dark Spear returned to how it used to be before it absorbed Crombel and the Blood Stone. 

“Then no more is the reason for you to hesitate, is there?” 

Frankenstein was dumbstruck, the answer so very simple and clear. 

The reason why he had been staying away from those dear to him, Lunark included, was because he feared he will lose his battle of dominance against the Dark Spear and manifest as a weapon threatening them. 

His fear grew even more humongous ever since the nightmare of effigies the Dark Spear staged for him. 

But now that the Dark Spear can no longer be a nightmare for him, there was no reason for him to keep himself isolated any longer.

“What is the bidding of your heart? The choice is most definitely yours, but I have had my lessons from 820 years of sleep. Only logical for us it is to live our lives to fullest, with no regrets, during the time that is given to us. We must listen to our hearts for what they wish. We must follow the choices our hearts seek.” 

Raizel gazed at his most trusted follower, unmoving and silent. 

“I have already told you. The last thing you can save at the moment is time. So do not save your time. Use it well to look into your heart in wholesome.” 

“...Yes, sir. I shall do that.” 

Raizel, as always, did not linger after delivering all of his messages. 

Frankenstein stayed muted in solitude until he got moving; it was time to take a look at another patient he was tasked with, and Tao joined him in the middle, rather faster than what either of them expected. 

“Right now, we are the only ones tending to Mr. Jang. Now everyone at KSA knows about his betrayal, so nobody’s visiting him. Well, Sir Rael was the only one apart from us that...” 

Thanks to Tao, Frankenstein was reminded of the lesser son of the only one he could ever dub as his true friend for his life. 

Rael already left prior to his return to Korea, and being the heir of Kertias, the fastest of nobles, by now he would be officiating his homecoming in the Lord’s Hall. 

And Frankenstein heard from his team about the skirmish Rael had with none other than his own kind – with none other than a head of a noble clan. 

Tao was about to voice his concern for Rael while he was at it, but then he suddenly heard Frankenstein puffing out a ball of air. 

Did he just laugh when we’re discussing Sir Rael here?

Tao’s eyes bulged out, but Frankenstein did not let him stare at him, wiping off his face of his laughter and concern. 

‘What am I worried about? I should worry about myself. As of now, that boy will have no trouble at all.’ 

After a brief self-reprimand, Frankenstein began to strut ahead, with Tao tagging along and complaining at him to wait up. 

(next chapter)

Previously Raizel asked Lunark to take good care of Frankenstein. Now he’s telling Frankenstein to follow his heart. I didn’t plan or see this coming, but I made Raizel a matchmaker in my fic. XD As you would’ve noticed, next chapter will be featuring on Rael, through a scene that I had been dying to compose since the brainstorming stage for this fic. Stay tuned and find out how my boy is going through another growth in his career as a head of his clan!

(Edited) I just realized I posted this chapter instead of saving it as a draft - my mistake, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again! My apology for whoever that got confused with the early upload!

[atlas-the-worldbuilder]

Final thoughts on Pokemon Sword/Shield

So in case you weren’t aware (which is most of you, I’m sure), a few months ago I started a Pokemon Shield blind Nuzlocke Run.  And recently, I completed the main portion of the Nuzlocke by defeating the Champion.  Having played through the game, though, I thought I’d give my final thoughts on it as a Pokemon fan, a gamer, and as a storyteller.

The Story & Characters

In all honesty, I rather enjoyed the main story of this game.  The Pokemon League has always been presented like a professional sport (at least in the anime/cartoon), so it’s fun to see the games taking that perspective and rolling with it.  It felt like an actual tournament/championship, to compete for the title in an officially organized manner, rather than just running a gauntlet of preset combatants.

In addition, I liked how they incorporated both the gym leaders and our rivals into the league story as not only combatants, but also as individuals with their own lives and aspirations.  Marnie and Team Yell are adorable, Hop is... mostly tolerable, thus far, but by far my favorite rival character has been Bede, the Psychic/Fairy trainer.  His haughty and prideful demeanor make him a delight to defeat, and his arc is a wonderful story to see unfold.  I’m really curious to see what he gets up to in the after-story! The Gym Leaders are also fun to meet and battle; the Pokemon games as a whole have been gradually attempting to give more and more character to each of the Gym Leaders you meet, beyond just trials to overcome on your journey to victory.  And while I always have a soft spot for the Hoenn & Sinnoh gyms, I like that they opted to have the Gym Leaders return in place of having more Elite Four members to fight  I only wish I could get more opportunities to get to know them better, cuz there’s some standout leaders from this batch which I truly enjoy!

My biggest complaint with Sword/Shield’s story, though, has been the “Heroic Quest” plotline which has become increasingly common these days.  I like the character of Sonia the researcher, and Oleana is satisfying to watch lose, my biggest complaint has been the pacing of the plot; the first 2/3rd’s of the story are us teaming with Sonia to gradually get the backstory revealed to us, and then in the last half hour, right as the Tournament’s getting underway, all the villains suddenly crawl from beneath the floorboards and run amok while you have to chase them down!  There didn’t feel like there was a proper buildup explaining why the villain wanted to summon the legendary Pokémon, especially one which we heard next to nothing about! This brings about an interesting idea, however... what if instead, they had completely forgone any Legendary-Summoning stories until after the league?  Honestly, I was way more invested challenging the gyms and fighting the champion than I was stopping the literal POKEMON APOCALYPSE from happening... so what if for future games, they saved those for after you became champion?  As a sort of test of your skills, to prove your worth to bear the mantle you have taken!  Maybe it wouldn’t have meshed well, maybe they needed to show of the game mascot more, I dunno...  it’s just my thoughts.

The GamePlay

THEY FINALLY LET US TURN OF THE GODS-FORSAKENED TUTORIALS!!!  PRAISE THE ALL-FATHER!!!

Ahem... In all honesty, I think I’d grown a bit too used to the 2nd screen of the DS-series games, but after a couple days of getting used to the mono-screen style again, I am pleased to say I found it very easy to settle back into.  Though there are still some features I wish would make a return (the HM moves as opposed to public transportation, poison’s effect while walking, wild double battles, etc.), there are alot of fun mechanics introduced and remedies to older problems that have been introduced!

I think one feature which hasn’t had much said about it is the introduction of the Poke-Jobs system; this system allows you to send your Pokémon out on timed “away missions” to gain both experience and items.  In the old days, if you wanted to passively level your pokemon, the only real option you had without introducing a second player was the Daycare center, and they could only raise two pokemon at once... and you had to pay for it.  With Poke-Jobs, though, I can send anywhere from 5-10 teammates out for whatever amount of time I want them to be out for, and then come back later to see them lively and with goodies to show for their work! At first, I didn’t think I’d get much use out of this system; I, like many players out there I’m sure, prefer to guide my pokemon’s training personally, honing their movesets and guiding their levelling and points the way I want from them.  But as I progressed further in my Nuzlocke, and as my daily life became busier and busier, I found myself sending my backup teammates out on jobs to keep them on par with my main team.  Given that the Move Deleter/Tutor and Name Rater are now services that have been rolled into the Pokemon Center, yet another good thing this series has done, I found it much easier to keep my reserve Pokemon prepared in case I needed a substitution. Some Nuzlocke “Purists” may call that taking the easy way out, but... frankly, I don’t have the willpower to do that much grinding.  I’m here to play a game and have fun doing it, dammit.

The Wild Area is another thing I’ve wanted to see from Pokemon for a long time - taking more steps to make the regions seem like an open world, with vast sprawling environments full of pokemon and secrets to uncover.  I’ll admit, though, the execution is... not entirely perfect.  While open expanses are fun to explore, the Wild Area did seem a bit... flat to traverse.  And while the weather mechanics translating into battle are fun to deal with, the same sets of wild pokemon appearing did start to wear me down.  I think what the Wild Area really needed, in the long run, was a system similar to how Black/White/Black2/White2 did - having seasonal progression ingame, where different pokemon would show up during different seasons, making the different places unique and novel all over again throughout the year. And for the record, many of my gripes with the Wild Area were addressed in the Isle of Armor’s expansion island.  VASTLY superior, and much more fun to navigate and traverse.

...I’ll openly admit this: I was not a fan of Mega Evolution when it was first introduced in X/Y.  I felt it was fine enough to see Pokemon battling without power boosts or “digi-volving” or whatever you wanna call it.  When Sun/Moon Introduced Z-Moves, it felt like a step in the right direction, but at the same time, I ended up not using it very often.  If I had to have a power boost to my pokemon, I would want it something that couldn’t be used as a crutch when the going gets tough - something that has a limited usability, and offers benefits specific to the time it’s being used. I say this because I initially approached Dynamax the same way: as just another power boost to level the playing field and shake up the battle meta which I don’t keep track of.  However, after barely surviving all 8 gym leaders without using a single dynamax pokemon, I decided to give it a chance: after having completed the Isle of Armor’s subplot and gaining access to the Max Soup, I fed it to my Toxtricity Spike, and started running dynamax raids.  As I started using it more and more, I started gaining a certain appreciation for it that I hadn’t before; this was something written in to being a unique cultural effect!  This literally is imagining Pokemon as Kaiju!  And for the most part, it works! While I still feel mega-lvl-power-boosts in pokemon are a huge waste, at the very least I can say Dynamax didn’t leave me with too bad a taste in my mouth.  I do hope, however, that Dynamax stays a Sword/Shield exclusive power; given it’s cultural importance in Galar, and how Mega-Evolution was in the previous generation, I think having power boosts specific to regions works better than having the same stuff used across the board for every meta onwards,

What Do I hope for the Future?

I can’t say for sure if they’ll release a sequel game for Sword/Shield, but if they do... I would want them to make these minor changes:

Hold off the Heroic plot for after the League plot; devote the main first half of the game to just the gyms and league story like was done here, and then save meeting uber-god-tier Pokémon for after you’ve claimed the title of Champion.

Having said that, fix the pacing of how the Eternatus/Darkest Day subplot feels as it’s being played out.  Offer us more insight into Rose and Oleana’s mindsets as they go about their business, and give us more coherent exposition from our field trips with Prof. Sonia. 

Fix how the Wild Area looks - give it more variations for each sub-region and offer more varieties of habitats, like in the Isle of Armor.  Or, alternatively, try to implement a seasonal mechanic to make the same areas change over the year, opening new paths and new avenues to explore!

Let Bede defeat Oleana.  Give my boy some closure.

Allow us to see and interact with the Gym Leaders outside of the gyms more.  I had, like, barely 2 lines of dialogue with Nessa, and even less for Milo.  Not asking for a whole lot, just a bit more to tie us into who they are as people.  Piers is best big brother.  <3

That’s all I had written for now.  If y’all want a biography of my champion team for my Shield Nuzlocke, let me know, and I’ll scrap a post together! <3