#i already find it incredible i managed to keep it mostly short.

[icharchivist]

As someone who thought that the Lucius just had a bunch of nicknames, I’m somehow just now realizing he’s three different people??? :(；ﾞﾟ'ωﾟ'):

i'm sorry to make matter worse, but i think you meant Lucilius... because Lucius is another character who's completely unrelated to the bunch.

But yeah there's three Luci- characters whom we nickname the Lucifaces who have the same face (and same voice actor), which makes things confusing for everyone who's not used to it.

The long story short is that they're clones of one another.

Lucio is the Original

On the left is his real appearance, his real name being Helel Ben Sahar. He's one of the two Speakers of Bahamut, the God of this world. He's basically one of the most powerful person in existence. On the right is his newish appearance, and now he uses the name Lucio as he pretends to be a stage actor to infiltrate our crew. The crew knows something is fishy with him and MC saw his powers in action, but very few people knows about his real identity. He flirts with Sandalphon sometimes but Sandalphon can't stand him.

Personalitywise he's defined by the fact he's teasing and mysterious, and overly loyal to God, despite the fact Bahamut has been ignoring him and his calls for the past few thousand years.

Lucilius is his clone.

No one knows the circumstances behind Lucilius's existence. He's an Astral, one of the immortal people of the stars. He himself didn't know he was a clone if not for the fact he was plagued with dreams of Lucio's life, which made him believe God was tormenting him personally. So he developed a God Complex, coming up with plans to destroy the world and take God's place. He was beheaded by Lucifer during one of his apocalypse plans, and thousands of years later, Belial set up a plan to behead Lucifer in order to sew Lucilius's head on Lucifer's body to bring him back to life. Thus the second zombie look. Currently, Lucio has locked him and Belial in an interdimensionnel prison called the Rainbow Dimension in order to stop them from going on rampage, after Sandalphon stopped their last attempt at destroying the world.

Personalitywise he's cold, mean and calculating, the only person he ever liked was Lucifer, and no one else. He hates God more than anything in the world.

(as a side note his Japanese name is Rushifaa which is the actual way to pronounce "Lucifer" i Japanese. GBF!Lucifer is pronounced Rushiferu, a variation on how Lucifer could be pronounced by accentuating the "r" ending)

Lucifer is Lucilius's clone.

In his convoluted plan to take down God, Lucilius created the very first Primal Beasts. One of the very first (the second one after Belial, in fact) was Lucifer, whom he created to be the idealized version of himself. Lucifer was made to oversee evolution itself. he was considered the light of the skies. Because Lucifer was meant to look over evolution, he was able to evolve himself enough past his programing in order to see Lucilius's destructive way and behead him when his apocalypse plan was threatening to destroy it all. He then watched over the skies for thousand of years before being murdered and beheaded. In his last breath he passed down his powers to Sandalphon, his official replacement and the one person Lucifer always yearned for the presence of, and because of that Sandalphon often has dreams of Lucifer's memories. And because of this bond, he hasn't fully moved on to the afterlife, stuck in between worlds, watching over Sandalphon.

Personalitywise he's kind, caring and dutiful, though a little dense. Also he created coffee. God likes him. Literally Bahamut put Lucio and Lucilius on mute but he actually talked with Lucifer recently-ish and values his opinion. Which is kinda hilarious.

So those are 3 drastically different people, but they are clones of one another with various degree of knowing about it. All of them have also very unique relationship to Sandalphon and it's why the real test is "put Sandalphon in a room with them, you'll know who is who in due time"

So those are the three Lucifaces: Lucio, Lucilius, Lucifer. Three different people. Not to confuse with Lucius who has absolutely nothing to do with those guys.

It's easy once you know i swear!

The more you know then?

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

[stonedcoldfoxtarot]

How you will step into your rich bitch era + advice

Pile 1 -> Pile 2 -> Pile 3

Pile 1:

3oS, 9oP, World, 5oW, Empress (AoW)

I see that some of you may have recently experienced a setback in your career or personal life that was mostly outside of your control. For many of you, this may have been in the form of an unexpected job loss or an expensive and contentious divorce or separation. However, I see this situation as a blessing in disguise because whatever you lost had already outgrown its usefulness in your life. For many of you, this misfortune has already led to an unexpected material gain and an increased feeling of self-confidence in your ability to stand on your own two feet. If not, I see this set back being short lived, as you are now well on your way to stepping into your winning season.

Deep down you know the world is yours, and from here on out I see you will be working to achieve a level of self-mastery that allows you to realize all of your goals. Some of you may decide to work in the field of Project Management or Marketing and PR, while others of you may be interested in careers that involve lots of international travel or relocating to a different country. I see that whatever path you choose Pile 1, you have the determination and fortitude to take on the competition and still come out on top.

For a few of you, I feel you could also be fighting with yourself or feeling divided about which direction to take next. You have a lot of different skills that could take you in completely opposite directions and you might be struggling to focus on or pick just one option. However, I see that once you figure out which path to choose you will move forward with determination until you reach a life that resembles the one you’ve always dreamed of. Whatever you decide to do, keep moving forward Pile 1 because it only gets better from here!

Advice: 9oP

Always remember that you have full control over your financial abundance and success. Start cultivating your dream life by building upon the work you have already done and you will be amazed at how quickly things begin to fall into place. If you’ve felt compelled to pursue a career that provides you with the freedom to set your own schedule, you are being advised to explore other options outside of a traditional 9 to 5.

Pile 2

AoW, Empress rev, Chariot, 10oP, Magician (9oP)

If you're not already self-employed, I see that many of you have a lot of creative ideas in your mind that are just waiting to be acted upon or brought to life. For some of you, I see that in the past you may have experienced periods of stagnation in your career which of course left you feeling frustrated and angry or even depressed. At some point, you may have felt rejected in your previous efforts or that others did not recognize all that you really have to offer. If that resonates, I see you are now focused on balancing your emotions surrounding past failures and regaining control over your circumstances as you dust yourself off and try your luck again. Pile 2, many of you are incredibly talented and hard working. I’m hearing that all that is needed to step into your rich bitch era is for you to confidently move forward towards the direction of your dreams, knowing that what is meant for you is already yours.

In fact, pile 2, once you find your niche or begin to put in work towards a new project or idea, I see you quickly becoming unstoppable! Many of you are visionaries and forward thinkers, possessing the strength and vitality necessary to bring your creative ideas or business ventures to fruition in a way that most others cannot. You have a natural talent for thinking outside the box, and this is what makes you so powerful. Regardless of any losses you may have faced in the past, you have all the resources and strength needed to pursue whatever you desire in this lifetime. For many of you, I see that success and abundance are right around the corner, if it’s not already here now. And if you are not self-employed or an independent contractor, I see that you will find success as an entrepreneur once you combine your creative ideas with your knack for selling, investing or bringing in money from multiple sources. I see that some of you may end up retiring early and living off of several streams of passive income or interest & residuals. Pile 2, your life has the potential to be the embodiment of the phrase “work smarter, not harder.”

Advice: Justice

Pile 2, if you have been feeling lost, confused or unbalanced in your career, you are being advised to seek out ways to bring fairness, clear-thinking and balance back into your life. Some of you may be a Libra sun, moon or rising, as represented by The Justice card, or you may feel naturally drawn towards a job or career in the legal field. Those of you who resonate with this card are powerful decision-makers who have reached perfect equilibrium between the intuitive and the intellectual mind. To step into your abundant era, focus on restoring balance in your life, especially emotional balance, so that you can allow the laws of karma to begin working in your favor once again.

Pile 3

10oP, 5oC, 9oC, 8oS, Magician (High Priestess)

Pile 3, I see that many of you have achieved financial abundance and prosperity in the past, but you may have also recently experienced financial losses or setbacks which have effected you quite deeply. Some of you may have been let go from a large company or corporation, or you feel stuck in a dead end job, trying to make ends meet as your costs rise and your savings continue to dwindle. Despite this, I see you haven’t lost hope for a new beginning, as you still really desire to live a life full of abundance and financial freedom like you did once before.

Pile 3, I see here that some of you are not recognizing your own power or that you give it away easily to those who may not have your best interest at heart. There could also be an issue with you simply wishing for things to get better instead of taking action to go after what it is you truly want. I feel this could be due to a fear of failure or of making a decision and being stuck with it. I also feel that some of you may feel stuck or trapped due to internal or external pressures, some of which might stem from your past, your childhood or the unealistic expectations set upon you by others.

However, I see that as you begin to harness the power of your mind to plan, direct and create your ideal life, things will slowly but surely begin to turn around for you. Many of you may be blessed with the ability to easily manifest your desires. Pile 3, your minds are incredibly powerful! In fact, you may be the type who has to stay mindful of your thoughts and words, as you have the power to easily speak things into existence. If you can see it in your mind’s eye, you can achieve it. (I’m hearing the lyrics to I Believe I Can Fly by R. K*lly, so maybe that song might resonate with some of you). The Magician is attributed to Mercury, and deals with communication, intellect and action, so some of you may find you are naturally drawn to careers that allow you to express your thoughts on paper or speak directly with others. You may be great at giving speeches or lectures, writing manuals and SOPs or anything that requires being good at both effective communication and teaching or motivating others. Many will see your success and look up to you in this lifetime, Pile 3. Just remember, what it meant for you will ever ever pass you by. You just have to be willing to go out there and get it.

Advice: High Priestess

Remember that all success and failure begins in the mind. You can manifest your conscious desires by harnessing the power of telepathy, clairvoyance, and intuitive communication to receive insight into your current situation. Here you are being advised to utilize your conscious mind to bring your creative ambitions to life and tap into your intuitive side to receive the answers you’re looking for, instead of manifesting from a place of fear or uncertainty.

Thanks for reading🔮✨

© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.

[winchesterandpie]

Adore You

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Word Count: 1875

Warnings: none, this is just incredibly soft Jake

Requested by anonymous

A/N: I was going to post this yesterday, but it was a really long day. so you're getting it today. I adore writing soft Jake Seresin, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Jake was sick, and though it wasn’t the worst he’d ever felt, it ranked up there. Mostly because he very rarely caught anything. 

The one bright spot for you in his whining was that he finally let you dote on him. Usually, he insisted on taking care of you. While it always made you feel special, you sometimes wished he would let you do the same for him without turning it around. You knew it stemmed from his discomfort with genuine, focused attention, but that didn’t stop your desire to just love on him.

When he was sick, everything flipped on its head. He was so soft and clingy, and you had even managed to get him to lay with his head on your lap.

Both of you had long since stopped paying attention to whatever show played on the TV--Jake because he had fallen asleep and you because you couldn’t stop looking at him. 

Your fingers combed through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He hadn’t ever let you touch his hair before, always claiming he had spent too much time styling it. His golden locks stuck to your fingers, sweaty from his slight fever, but you could still tell how soft it was. You scanned his face, noting happily how the flush was fading from his skin at last.

“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured, shifting his head to press his face against your thigh.

“I like being here with you,” you replied softly, brushing a few strands of hair back from his face. 

He hummed, tipping his head into your hand when your movement stalled. “Keep going, please? Feels good.”

You obliged, and he drifted back to peaceful sleep.

A week later, you still couldn’t get the feel of his hair out of your mind. He had recovered quickly after that one day and hadn’t let you touch his hair since then. Not that you had asked.  You were too nervous to ask and you weren’t sure why.

Tonight, however, it looked like you might get to anyways. Jake came to your apartment from a long day of flight maneuvers and plopped down on the couch, dropping his head onto your lap with a grunt. You leaned down to kiss the side of his head.

“Hey, handsome,” you greeted him quietly.

“Hey, darlin’,” he returned, the words muffled by your shorts.

“Long day?”

Jake grumbled an affirmative as he shifted around to find a comfortable position. You smiled softly at him, though he couldn’t see it. In an effort to comfort him, you squeezed his shoulder then traced your hand up and down his spine.

Internally, you debated whether you actually dared to muss his hair. He still seemed disgruntled, shifting around every few seconds. It was possible that he would only get more upset if you messed with his carefully styled hair. On the other hand, he might actually relax like he had when he was sick. And it was already a little messed up from how he flopped down…

Coming to a decision, you let your fingers slide up his neck and into his hair. You took a moment to revel in being right about how soft his hair was. Something about the slow, steady movement set you even more at ease than you had been, and it did the same for him. Jake took only moments to settle, the tension finally bleeding out of him.

You allowed yourself a triumphant grin as you massaged his scalp. He was nearly purring in your hands. While you had expected him to relax, you had not expected him to enjoy it quite this much.

You were glad he was letting you fiddle with his hair. You hadn’t had the best of days either, and between his warmth and the steady weight of his head in your lap, you were unwinding there on the couch too.

Eventually, you both needed to go to bed, and you had to shake him gently awake to move. Jake was always holding you when you were in bed, but tonight he was even cuddlier than normal. It was like playing with his hair unlocked the softest side of him. He nuzzled into your neck as you fell asleep together.

You weren’t sure if he was even aware of the extra soft side. So instead, you just took advantage of every opportunity to play with his hair without pointing it out to him.

Those opportunities seemed to come at an ever-increasing rate when you moved in together. Tonight, for example, you had come home to find Jake in the kitchen making dinner. You had offered to help, but he just chuckled and lifted you onto the counter.

“I’m almost done,” he had told you, pressing a kiss to your lips before moving back to the stove.

You might have grumbled more if you weren’t so happy to just observe him in the golden light of the early evening. The light complemented his bright grin so perfectly and you couldn’t help but think that he was sunshine personified. 

It seemed especially true when he paused every few minutes to kiss you silly. He started to pull away to go to the fridge, but you pulled him back to steal one more kiss. You swallowed his laugh gladly, giggling yourself when you let him go at last.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he teased, shaking his head at you as he opened the fridge.

“Wait, you think I’m cute? So embarrassing,” you returned. “For you, I mean.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I love you.”

“Wonder all you want.” You shrugged, hiding a sly grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He stopped by you again on his way back to the stove, resting a hand on your thigh. “And I thank my lucky stars for it every day, gorgeous.”

You couldn’t resist the urge to lift your hand to his hair, brushing a lock back from his face. It was rather fitting, you thought, that his hair matched the golden light that he brought into your life. Jake’s grin softened, though it was no less bright.

“I love when you do that,” he said quietly, sliding one arm around you to pull himself closer. “I don’t want you to stop, but I really need to stir that pan before it burns.”

“Good thing I’ll still be here when you finish with that.” You combed your fingers through his hair one more time, nudging him to tilt his head down so you could kiss his forehead. You sighed as the warmth of his arm left you. “You told me once that you didn’t like people touching your hair.”

“I… yeah, I was wrong.” Jake looked over at you. “But I only like it when it’s you. It’s relaxing.”

“I’ve noticed. You are the softest man I’ve ever seen when I play with your hair,” you admitted. He looked a little bashful, so you hurried to reassure him, saying simply, “I love your secret soft side. I adore you, Jake Seresin.”

He pulled the pan from the stove and turned the burner off, crossing the distance between you in a few long strides to hold your face in his hands. “It’s too early for me to propose, isn’t it?”

“Maybe just a smidge,” you said, ducking your head a little to hide a laugh, “but I think we’re on the same page about going in that direction.”

“I love you so damn much,” he said, then cut off any reply with his lips on yours.

You returned the affection eagerly, winding your arms around his neck to hold him to you. Not that he needed any convincing to stay close. Jake’s hand moved to your thigh, his grip tightening to mirror your fingers tugging in his hair.

“Dinner’s getting cold,” you mumbled when you parted to breathe.

He recaptured your lips briefly before responding. “Don’t care. We can reheat it.”

You kissed him twice more. “But you put so much work into it.”

“But I wanna kiss you,” he pouted for a second, nudging your nose.

Your hand in his hair tugged him back just enough to really look at each other. The sight of him was something you didn’t think you could ever tire of, especially like this. His hair was messy from your fingers and everything about him emanated warmth and love. You hoped he could see just how much you loved him too.

Time away from Jake was always hard on both of you, whether you were separated for a day of work or for weeks or months of deployment and assignments. Jake especially found it hard to sleep without you playing with his hair.

Naturally, that meant that he shuddered in your arms when you hugged him and your hand found its way into his hair. You just smiled into his shoulder and held him tighter. Neither of you mentioned any damp patches that may or may not have appeared on your shirts.

Late in the evening, in the privacy of your own bed, you lay on your side, facing each other. His arms were warm and secure around you, holding you to his chest. You tilted your head closer to him, tracing the side of his face. 

You could see him fighting to keep his eyes open as he watched you. On one of the rare occasions he had gotten to call you, he’d mentioned he had trouble falling asleep, so it made you happy to see him relaxing so quickly.  It also was difficult not to smile just from having him in your bed again. Your hand traced higher up his face, up to brush back some of his hair.

“Would you marry me if I asked?” The words slipped out of him, barely a whisper.

Stunned, your mouth opened and shut a few times soundlessly before you finally responded. “Do you mean that?” You were almost afraid it was just a side effect of post-deployment exhaustion.

“I mean it, sweets,” he huffed a soft laugh, curling his arm tighter around you. “I have a ring, and I’m still going to officially propose later. But I can’t wait any longer to know, so what would you say?”

“Yes.” The answer to his question was so undeniably simple. You loved him so much that there was no other answer. “Yes, Jake. Yes!”

His lips were on yours in a heartbeat in an excited, albeit sleepy, kiss. You tasted his smile, tangled your fingers in his hair, and pulled him closer. You kissed lazily, slowly processing everything that had just happened.

He murmured your name when you pulled apart at last. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”

“You’re pretty special, Seresin,” you replied softly, nudging his nose with your own.

His thumb rubbed slow circles on your hip, and you could feel by the rhythm that he was starting to fall asleep again. “Love you,” he mumbled, fading fast.

You played with his hair a little longer, just until his breathing evened out, then shifted to set your arm around his middle. Your final thought as you drifted off was that you couldn’t wait to spend forever with your sweet sunshine of a man.

Top Gun Taglist:

@malindacath @army24--7 @mads-weasley

[dre6ming]

TDBR - the Oscars

TDBR series

Masterlist

TDBR imagines Masterlist - short stories

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To be added to my tag list click HERE

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/ actress fem reader

Warning: fluff

Plot: after Austin wins his award you bump into his ex girlfriend into the Oscars bathroom.

Word count: 2000

Disclaimer: everything fake, no shade no nothing, just respect for all parties and remember this is all FICTIONAL

"Baby, I'll just go to the bathroom ok? I'll find you after?" I whisper to Austin who turns his head to smile at me. "Sure honey, you feeling ok?" He asks, his attention, that was previously directed at the lady engraving his name on the golden statue, now fully directed to me. "Yes, I just need to use the toilet." I explain, caressing his shoulder, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze. "Ok, be careful!" I see him lean down to kiss me, but we are still not public so I take it upon myself to dodge the kiss. "Sorry." He mumbles, looking apologetic. "That's ok, see you soon!" I wave at him before turning around on my heels and finding my way to the bathroom.

I've got to admit it's pretty crazy, even now after all the success I've had in my career, to see myself surrounded by all these people I looked up to. I look to my right and there is Jamie Lee Curtis talking to Robert De Niro, so I have to stop for a second to just gawk at them. But only for a second, cause I don't want to be caught being a weird fangirl. As I keep walking trying to redeem myself, I bump into Pedro Pascal on the way. He and I are going to be starring in a new HBO series called "The last of us". We already filmed a couple of scenes but he and I have yet to be on set together. "Pedro, hi how are you?" He smiles at me. "I'm good good, you were incredible up there, looking fantastic. A big slay I'd say!" I can't help but laugh a bit too hard, resulting in a funny sound to come out of my nose. "Oh my, Ped, that's that's exactly right." I giggle wiping some tears from the corners of my eyes. "Listen I was on my way to the bathroom, so excuse me. Oh I almost forgot are you coming to Baz's after party? I think I send you the invite didn't I?" I ask. "Yes yes of course I'm coming, gotta watch out for my little girl." Pedro jokes, making us laugh at how serious he's taken to the role of the father figure for my character. "Ok dad." I scream running past him laughing. At this rate I'm collecting fathers like they're infinity stones.

The bathroom is not as full as I expected, that's mostly because all the big categories have been announced by now and a lot of people left for the after parties already. It's a bit tricky getting to do what I need to do in the long dark blue sequence dress, but I manage. I take a good look at myself in the mirror as I'm washing my hands, taking note that a bit of my mascara smudged, so I use a clean tissue paper to wipe that off.

"Excuse me?" A voice calls out as I'm concentrating on getting the mascara situation under control. I toss the tissue in the trash and turn around to see who was call me. I'm stunned the second I'm face to face with the person who just spoke. "(Y/n), oh my goodness I thought that was you, who else would wear a huge navy sequence dress." I can't believe my eyes, Vanessa Hudgens is standing in front of me, looking gorgeous in her black skin fitted dress. "Oh, um hi!" I put my hand out to shake, but she surprises me by pulling me into a tight hug. "You look so beautiful tonight by the way, I wanted to get to talk to you on the carpet, but you were caught up with other interviewers. I didn't want to crowd you." To be honest I avoided her on the carpet on purpose, sure my relationship with Austin isn't yet confirmed to the public and all, but the rumors are there and I'm sure she's seen most if not all of them. "Oh yeah, I was pretty crowded. It's a bummer I didn't get to talk to you, you always give such great interviews." I say, meaning every word, because in truth she is amazing at interviewing people and to not admit that would be a blasphemy. I wasn't avoiding her because I have something against her, in fact I'm actually a big admirer of hers. Austin told how things went down between them and I trust him, from his side nothing bad went down, but there was heartbreak and hurt so I can only imagine that for her it was at least as painful as it was for him, if not worse.

"That's ok, I'm sure we'll get to do it for another carpet, maybe at the Met this year if you're going." She's so sweet. "I think I am, it really depends on how my filming schedule goes."

"Oh hell yeah I saw you and Pedro Pascal got cast for that HBO series, congrats." I blush at all the compliments she's directing my way, toying with the necklace around my neck. "Vanessa, I-" the words just don't seem to come out of my mouth, because frankly I don't even know what I want to say. She seems to understand that I'm having a hard time communicating what I want to say and her features soften as her big smile comes a soft smirk. "Listen, I've seen the rumors, I don't hold it against you or him, if they are true. He was an amazing boyfriend and well maybe we both could've done better to stay together, but I don't think it was meant to be." I can see she speaks from the heart. "I just, I know his side of things, he only has good things to say about you, but.."

"Honey if the one thing holding you back is me, I want you to know you have my full support. Austin deserves to be happy, doesn't matter who it's the one taking care of that as long as he's happy." I'm surprised to say the least, but I think coming off of what Austin told me about her, I expected this kind of reaction from her. "That's so nice of you to say, I just-" she shushes me when the door opens and someone comes in. "Let's go out." She motions her head towards the door, looping her arm around mine and leading me out. "Thank you!" I whisper to her.

"So I need you to know there's no bad blood." She tells me truthfully. "I believe you, but with everything going on I just, I'm scared of people finding out and I don't know how much longer we can keep it under wraps, I mean you saw him." Vanessa seems to understand exactly what I mean. "Longing stares and tight hugs. Oh we've all seen him, you are clearly the better one at hiding all this." I laugh nervously, wondering just how bad Austin is making things look from an outside perspective. "It's not too bad." She chimes in, probably reading my thoughts. "Eh I can try and fool myself, but... in the end we will make it public so there's no more speculations, but we don't want that to overshadow our careers, so we wanted for award season to be over." I explain one of the reasons we're being so private. "I get that. Oh and here comes lover boy." She says looking over my shoulder and before I can turn my neck to look behind me, a hand settles on my hip. "Hey Nessa, what's up?" Austin says, pulling me closer to him.

Vanessa notices the small gesture, throwing me a knowing look. "Nothing much, just talking to (y/n). Congratulations by the way, it was well deserved!" She says, gesturing to the award he's holding in his other hand. "Did they engrave it?" I ask, looking down at it. "Yes, look how cool it looks." Austin says excitedly, holding it up for me to read. "Did they spell your name wrong?" I ask faking concern. "What?" He panics immediately taking a closer look at the award. I can't help but burst out laughing at him. "You little minx!" He teases kissing my cheek, before I get the chance to dodge it this time. "Austin!" I warn looking around worried someone might've noticed. "Sorry." He says quietly.

"Don't be, you look cute together. You actually seem very happy Aus, I'm glad for you. I have to get going now, but I wish you both the best. Have a good one!" She says. "Thank V, you look happy too, I saw you were engaged, how's that?" Austin asks her. His question makes me look down at her left hand, where there is in fact a big beautiful diamond ring. "He makes me happy. I'm glad we both got to be in love again. It suits you." Her words make me wonder how can she see that he's in love with me. I look at his face and don't see anything that could scream 'I'm in love', but like on cue he feels me looking at him, so he turns his head to me. That's when I see it, that glimmer in his eyes, the one that not only screams 'I'm in love' but also it projects it out into the world. "Yeah I think it does. She's the one thing that got me through this whole thing. I have you to thank for all of this, so thank you!" Austin tells her and I can see his words touched her.

"You're welcome Austin, send me an invite to the wedding." Vanessa says, giving him a quick hug and disappearing into the crowd. Wedding? His wedding? With me? She couldn't have meant that? Right? "What's wrong? Did she say anything?" Austin looks over my face and I catch myself in his eyes, looking terrified. "Oh no, no, she was actually really sweet." I avert my eyes from him, this way preventing him from looking straight into my soul as he usually does. "Then..? Oh was it the wedding comment?" Austin catches on either way. I blush deeply and try to shake my head, but there's no point in denying. "Honey she meant that as a joke, ok? I'm not proposing. Not now at least."

Not now, so he's thought about this. "Not now?" The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I mean, maybe sometime in the future." Austin clarifies licking his lips anxiously. "Not the near future.." he keeps going hoping to calm me. "(Y/n) I know it’s too soon, but I can't lie and say that I haven't thought about marrying you, ok? I have and I know we are not ready yet."

"Yet? Ok but how will you know when I'm ready? Cause you might be ready faster than I am, since your older and I don't expect you to wait for me." Austin chuckles, brushing back his hair. "Honey, I would wait for you a thousand years and then a thousand more. And if you never want to get married, that's fine too. Now what do you say we go home and change to go to Baz's party?" Austin caresses my cheek, smiling softly at me. "Ok." I sigh, holding my dress up and walking towards the exit where Matt waits for us to drive us back to Austin's place so we could get changed for the after party.

"Can you believe I won this?" Austin asks still looking in disbelief at his award as I lean my head on his shoulder, looking down at the golden prize in his hand. "I can." I say, kissing his neck, feeling his hot skin against my red lips. "Now you're mine." I giggle as I lick my thumb to help clean off the red lip stain. "No, leave it." He says taking my hand and holding my knuckles. "Ok my winner! I love you!" I close my eyes and relax next to him. "I love you too!" Austin tells me kissing the top of my head, letting me lean on him.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine  @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp @kingdomforapony @acoolnight @tarot-sybarite @goldenmarygio @frozenhuntress67 @anonyboo63478338 @littlewhiterose @thefallofthedamned @1eminicookie @rose-deathman @iheqrtaustin @desitravelsblog @prompted-wordsmith @austinsvlrslut @crystallizedth0t @hertvgirl @peanutbutterinacup @austinswhitewolf

[sidthedollface2]

Third Love

Ch: 3 El Boracho

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Eddie tries to win over your affection and use you in hopes of getting signed to your dads record company. There's just one problem. Your situationship and a heartbreaking past that threatens to expose the darker side of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ flashbacks, mental illness, smut (fingering, bjs) Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie. Spanish words. Reader with other man (not cheating). Eddie with other girl, gave you a cute lil nickname cuz youre a sweetie. 🍑

Finding a day that both you and Eddie were free turned out to be harder than you thought. He still managed to send you text messages. His sweet Good Morning message brought a smile to your face and his play by play of how his day was going made you feel like you two knew each other more than a weekend.

Your schedule was already tight with zoom meetings and studio time. A particular Rapper had a falling out with the label, stating creative differences and unprofessionalism by the label. In other words the Artist was defying the requests to create a radio friendly track while also claiming his royalties weren't reflecting the millions he was bringing the company. Word Had gotten around that this Artist was money hungry and ungrateful for the success he had attained in such a short time. Everywhere you looked and social media was stretching the truth, and cancel culture was not giving up on him.

"Dad, you can't take him off the label. Austin can blend into multiple genres, right now the rap world thinks he's a clown. But If i can convince him to cut his hair and do this Nirvana cover set the rock world will embrace him with open arms."

A sigh leaves your dads lips as he looks out from the 13th floor of his office. Tall glass windows brighten the room, L.A. traffic and high rise towers surround the building. You sit on one of the many couches where contracts are signed, and famous musicians cheer to their success. Gold and platinum albums cover the walls, a photo of your parents sits on your dads large mahogany desk. Soon this would be your office and you wonder what photos would make it to your desk. A best friend maybe, or perhaps a lover, possibly both.

"This whole Company is going to be your responsibility soon. If you think Austin can turn this around without getting canceled then do what you have to do. But if it fails then the possibility of more failed artists will run this place to the ground, and that'll be on your shoulders."

You thank your dad for trusting you to deal with Austin and assure him you'll be home to cook him his favorite meal, just like how your mom did. You're half way out of his office when his following question has you stopping in your tracks.

"Mija wait. Have you told Sebastian about the contract?"

Almost all the talent you were seeing thought that your Dad was the only person to offer them a contract when in reality it was you. Your dad handled the office work and mostly stayed behind the scenes where lawyers and financial advisers were involved.

You knew first hand how the singers or bands commanded a crowd. How talented or how much work needed to be done to get them to a level where they'd bring a profit to the company. As a band Glass House wasn't ready yet. Sebastian as a front man was incredibly talented. You just didn't have the heart to tell him that his friends were keeping him back.

"They're not ready yet." You replied, closing the door behind you. As you reach the elevator doors and press the G button for the garage, you quickly send Austin a message. "You owe me big time."

~~~~~~~~~

After finding out that Max was your roommate Eddie had asked if she would meet him for coffee to talk about how her trip with Lucas went. Not to get some personal information about you. Nope. That wasn't like him, he would never betray your trust that way. Or would he?

The delicious scent of coffee grounds and vanilla filled the crowded shop. People in business attire stood at the order pick up line, glancing at the names of drinks that had been served. Eddie's tight black jeans and cut off sleeves of his shirt was a stark contrast to the suits and ties that were gathered as he walked up to grab his drinks.

"Since when do you get cold brews Red?" He asked, sliding her the vanilla cream cold brew she ordered. "Since my roommate made me try one of hers." She took a sip of her drink, humming in approval of its bitter but sweet taste. Coffee order, check. Eddie took a sip of his Americano, "You didn't tell me you had a roommate." He questioned. "She's hardly home because of work, and she spends the night with her boyfri–" She cuts herself off and shakes her head. "Sorry, not boyfriend. Actually, that reminds me Lucas wanted me to give you some nerd D&D stuff. Left it at the apartment though."

It was wrong and he knew it. He followed Max to her apartment, knowing it was also your apartment. Hesitancy written all over his face as he walked into your safe space. Bright light filtered through large windows. Planters and hanging pots decorated the space. A money tree with three thick roots spiraled together giving home to large green leaves sat in the corner by another window. He knew Max didn't care for plants so this love of greenery must be yours. He walked over to the bookcase in the living room, it was large and filled to the brim. "These are all yours?" He asked as Max sauntered to the kitchen in search of some snacks. "Nope. All roomies." She replied.

Eddie slowly glanced at the titles, tracing his finger along the spines. He plucked one from the shelf and smiled to himself, A Game of Thrones, book one to a series of 7. You liked fantasy, he thought as he placed the book back in place. "Have a seat. I gotta look for the damn manual in all my junk." Max explained, throwing Eddie a smuckers peanut butter jelly sandwich. "Yeah yeah take your time." He replied, secretly asking for more time to roam through your home. Eddie watches as Max bounces over to her room and he wonders which one was yours. He sat at the couch, eyes wandering every little corner, memorizing the small details of your apartment. For knowing Max as long as he did he knew all her likes and dislikes so it was easy for him to decipher her hobbies from yours. Gaming consoles filled the space under your TV, A Ps5, Xbox, Nintendo Switch, guess no PC games for you. On the wall behind the couch a painting caught his attention. A man Eddie assumed was a warrior, large orange feathers held in place by a thick gold band rested on his head. Armour draped over his shoulders and down the center of his chest leaving his torso and arms bare. Animal leather draped along his waist as a loincloth. Physique sculpted like a God. He carried a curvy woman in his arms, she wore a white dress and a flower in her hair, she was dead and this warrior carried her down a large mountain. At the bottom of the beautiful painting are the words Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl, he couldn't even sound out the words but wrote them down in his phone to google later.

Eddie took steps toward the hallway, his heart beating faster than normal as he stood outside your room. His hand held onto the door knob to your bedroom, this was crossing a line. Invading your privacy like no one had ever done. The bed you slept in at night, that housed your nightmares, all your delicate clothes and personal belongings just on the other side of this door. Photos of your father and your beloved mother sit at your nightstand where you'd silently cry into your pillow begging to turn back the hands of time for one more minute with her. Detailed notes and revised contracts of future artists litter your desk, a calendar of all your past and future events hang on the wall above. Multiple medications fill the medicine cabinet of your bathroom, antidepressants, anxiety, pain pills and sleep aids to name a few. Medications that no one knew about except your father. Small beads of sweat gather around his hairline as he thought of entering without your knowledge. He tightened his grip on the door, his breath deepend causing his chest to visibly rise and fall. The thundering beat of his heart heard loud through his ears, blocking out the good vs bad thoughts if he were to enter your room. If Eddie entered your room, all your deepest secrets and pain would be delivered to him on a silver platter. Your Mothers passing, your Fathers business, your brother's trip to your family's homeland, the mere fact that you had a brother. The real reason Sebastian was involved so much in your life, all details about you lay just beyond the door.

A shaky breath escaped from his lips as Eddie released the door. He did want to get to know you, just not like this. Not veiled in deceit and lies.

"Bathrooms over here."

Eddie jumped at the sound of Max's voice just behind him.

"Dammit Red, scared the shit outta me." He chuckled, clutching his chest in surprise.

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

You didn't get home till almost 11pm, dragging your feet up the steps of your apartment. The comfort of your bed softly calls you towards it. The soft glow of the living room brought your mind some sense of peace, you were finally home. You shuffled to your door, eyes drowsy with sleep. Searching for the key to your room, the sound of metal grinding the tile floor was heard as you looked down to your feet, a shiny chain peeked from beneath your shoe. You leaned down and cradled it in your hand, a silver chain with a red and black Fender pick hung from its length. On one side the initials EM delicately carved the surface, and CC on the other. Too exhausted to think much of it, you pocketed it in your jacket and turned in for the night.

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

Eddie had called you everyday leading up to your date night. The conversations were usually quick, a hurried 'have a good day' and a 'don't forget your lunch.' It was sort of domestic you thought, but you welcomed it as it made you feel cared for. Tonight Eddie had asked if it was ok to facetime you, which you nervously accepted.

You sat in the living room of your Dads house, when your phone rang the screen came to life as the name 'Eddie' was displayed. You answered with a shy "hello" as Eddie's beautiful face filled your phone screen. His long dark curls framed his pale face and his wide smile brought a tiny flush to your cheeks. "Hey, Princess Peach" he greeted. His deep voice rattled your nerves and the sweet pet name had you smiling into your phone. How was he able to pull a smile from just a greeting you had no idea. Eddie's eyes roamed over your shoulder and you informed him that you were at your Dads house. "I've never seen a house so huge, Quick tour perhaps?"

"Oh, yeah of course." You agreed, getting up from the couch and walking up the stairs. You gave him a glimpse of the foyer from the top of the stairs and Eddie gasped. White marbled floors and a wrought iron staircase circled both sides of the room, in the center a white grand piano gave the entryway a luxurious look. Eddie swallowed, and he all of a sudden realized that you were way above his social status. Your Dad must be a Billionaire if not then for sure a Millionaire. Not even Steve's house, the wealthiest person he knew had a foyer. Shaking the uncertainty from his face he focused on the piano. "You play piano? Or any instrument?." He asked, genuinely curious. You threw your head back and your boisterous laugh echoed in the room. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. It's just. I was a producer before, and yeah, I can play many instruments." Eddie beamed at the knowledge. You continued down the hall and motioned to a bedroom. "This is my room." You continued walking, not bothering to open the door. "Whoa whoa, I don't get to see where the magic happens?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at your phone and bit into your bottom lip. "Maybe after our date, but only if you're a good boy." Eddie's eyes widened at your flirtatious gesture, and he hoped to God you meant it.

"Don't tease me with a good time sweetheart cuz I'll hold you to it."

He smirked and your stomach knotted as he licked his lips.

You dip your chin towards your shoulder and cover your smile with your hand. "Don't get shy on me now baby, I wanna see that pretty smile." He cooed.

When the word Baby left his lips you knew you were in trouble. He looked so pretty even through the screen, prettier than you remembered. The sparkle in his warm eyes, and the crinkles when he smiled made your heart beat a little faster. You talked for hours about everything and anything. From your favorite childhood movies to Game of Thrones, which he mentioned was an amazing show. Your favorite foods which brought you to cook dinner while the phone sat in the corner. His curious eyes watching you carefully cut into various vegetables and beef, all the ingredients needed to make the caldo as you explained to him. Eddie's lips parted as you brought a spoonful of soup to your mouth, gently puckering your lips to blow at the steam that swirled from the hot liquid. He didn't know if his mouth watered at the delicious meal you made or the image of your lashes fluttering closed as your glistening lips wrapped around his–

"Mmmmm, so good." You hummed, interrupting his dirty thoughts.

"Yeah? That actually looks tasty, can't wait to try some." He hinted. Hoping to be a taste tester for any and all cuisine made by your skilled hands.

"Did your Mom show you how to cook?" He asked.

Time stood still. Your eyes focused on nothing as your mind went back to all the times you leaned over your moms shoulder eyeballing spices, and dancing to Vicente Fernandez as she swayed her hips belting out gritos that sounded like a cat dying. You and your brother's coughing fits paired with faux asphyxiation whenever she'd roast chili peppers on the stove. The thoughtful way she'd buy extra hominy for the menudo during holidays because she knew it was your favorite part.

"Peach?"

You blink back to the present as you wipe at a stray tear that escaped your lash line. "Um, yeah. She taught me how to cook." You utter, not trusting the wobble in your voice.

"That's really sweet of her, passing down those family traditions. I don't know how to cook much but I do love to eat." He says, rubbing his hand over his tummy. Eddie carries the conversation effortlessly, not one moment of silence between you. You learn that he's incredibly charming, laughs at almost everything, therefore making you laugh. He's fond of squishmellows and has to stop to look at every one he sees and do a squish test. He's not once brought up anything involving music or the usual, which celebrities are rude and is so and so really that obnoxious or is it an act, something that you're incredibly grateful for.

You're curled up on the couch, phone propped by the throw blanket bunched up over your tummy. Eddie is sprawled out on his bed, chucking pretzels in the air and catching them in his mouth. "That's five in a row." You yawn, eyes heavy with sleep.

"I should let you get some sleep sweetheart, It's late." He coos.

"Can you stay on the line with me? Please?"

"Of course I can Baby."

The sleepiness in your voice gives him a glimpse of what it would be like to sleep next to you. When you finally fall under the spell of the midnight sky, where the only light is bouncing off the glow from your phone, Eddie thinks you're just as beautiful sleeping as you are awake. He falls asleep staring at your cute nose and plush lips, wishing he was there to kiss you goodnight.

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

"We're Corroded Coffin, Thank You and enjoy the rest of your night."

Eddie jumped off stage, buzzing with adrenaline and booze as he walks straight to two girls who had flashed him during their set. He walks between them, one arm over their shoulders as he orders enough drinks from the bar to regret it in the morning. Their hands roam the expanse of his body, fingers twirled around his tousled curly hair as they whisper and giggle in his ear. You arrive at the same bar, Max had invited you to see her friend's band play, not for work she mentioned, just to hang out and have fun. It also happens that Sebastian's friends are also on the roster tonight, which is why he walks in beside you, palm at the small of your back leading you to the bar for drinks. While Sebastian orders the drinks you leave his side in search of a restroom. The bartender motions backstage behind these two doors.

You stumble into a room that was rarely occupied. Deep grunts barely audible through the loud blaring music. The bartender at the front mentioned that it was behind these doors so you pushed through and you gasp, body frigid as the scene before you.

"Oh fuck, just like that sweetheart."

Eddie has a strawberry blonde on her knees between his thighs, hard cock shoved half way down her throat, a topless bleach blonde at his side licking into his mouth while his fingers pump into her dripping sex. "Get the fuck out." He seethes, not once looking towards the door.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You spoke as you quickly turned away to scurry out of the room. Eddie's head snapped towards your paniced voice quick enough to see half of your face, and his stomach dropped. "Wait, Wait! it's not… fuck!" Eddie's voice strained as he pushes the girl off his cock. Shoving his dick back in his jeans to chase after you. You were able to make it back to the bar, leaving the restroom for a later time.

Eddie frantically searched for you in the crowded room, cursing himself in the process. He hadn't even take you out on a date yet and he was already fucking up. Afraid you had run out of the bar, he grabbed the nearest stool, stood on it and scanned the room till he found your beautiful face smiling with a group of your friends. He weaves through the crowd desperate to get to you, his rough hand reaching for your elbow. He leans in close to your ear so his words are not mistaken. "Can I please talk to you?" You crane your neck over your shoulder to meet Eddie's pleading eyes. A fake smile on display as you agree.

You follow Eddie outside, stepping into the cold night air. A shiver runs through your body as you stand under the glow of a lamp post. Eddie trails his eyes over the curves of your body. His eyes walk up your smooth bare legs, that he wishes he could touch. The black short shorts accentuate the curve of your hips and plush ass. His lips sting with the urge to kiss the curve of your waist, as his gaze ghosts over your exposed midriff. Eddie swallows as he now realizes your top is see through and your breasts sit perky in your black bra. You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling too naked under his stare. His eyes finally meet yours and he's left speechless at the sight of you. The girls he was with don't even compare to your beauty, yet he agreed to indulge them 1 day before your date was supposed to happen.

"I'm sorry you –. They're not –." A sigh left his lips as his palm roughly dragged across his face.

"They're just a hook-up, nothing serious. I'm so fucken sorry."

"It's ok." You shrug, arms crossed over your midsection for warmth. He takes notice of your shivers and places his leather jacket over your shoulders.

"It's ok?" He repeats your words, brows pinches in confusion. Every girl that Eddie knew would be screaming at him with angry mascara streaks running down their hot cheeks, livid in jealousy. Some would claw and scratch at him begging why they weren't good enough, hitting him and calling him every ugly name in the book. But not you.

You stood tall, seemingly unbothered by what you had seen. Eddie stepped forward expecting you to step back. You stay planted, cautious eyes set on his guilty ones. He would prefer retaliation because the words you would speak would pain him more than a few scratches.

"You're not my boyfriend Eddie, and you're a Rockstar; they're all the same."

You look down at Eddie's hands. His fingers are twitching with the undeniable urge to touch you. The sound of the bar doors open and a tall figure steps out.

"There you are Kitten, I've been looking for you."

Eddie's Jaw clenches at the pet name, and he shakes his head in disbelief. How could he be green with jealousy if not even 20 minutes ago his cock was down another girl's throat.

Sebastian laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips for a gentle peck to the back of your hand. You smile at his tenderness, and brush your shoulder against his chest. Eddie rolls his eyes, shooting daggers at his competition. He notices the need in Sebastian's stare, he glimmers with fondness and longing to be something more.

"Who the fuck is she?!" A screeching voice could be heard in the distance, and Eddie tightly closed his eyes, wishing the ground would swallow him up. This was not happening. He was fucking it all up before it even started. Cursing under his breath at the cards that were being played for him. A glance over Eddie's shoulder and you see Strawberry girl storming towards you.

Before she can reach you Eddie stands between you, hands gripping her arms, blocking her from attacking you. Sebastian pulls you behind him and it makes Eddie's stomach churn. It should be him shielding you from this groupie but instead it's his fault shes speaking to you. You try shoving Sebastian away attempting to confront the girl but his tall frame is immovable.

"Stop, just stop Chrissy." Eddie winces at the name. Surely a slip of the tongue. A loud crack is heard, as Strawberry girl's hand meets the side of Eddie's cheek. "It's kristie asshole!!" She yells, storming back into the bar, wobbly legs threatening to fold under her. Eddie's relieved to get rid of her and as he looks back to search for you he comes face to face with Sebastian's hard glare.

"Stay away from her." He orders, as he shoves Eddie's jacket to his chest.

Sebastian jogs back catching up to you, placing his hand on the small of your back guiding you to his car. You wrap your arm around his waist and Sebastian pulls you in a side hug.

Eddie watches at a distance as you both enter the car, Sebastian is seen waving his arms and hands around seemingly in a heated discussion. Eddies about to walk over to you when he sees Sebastian grip the back of your neck as he brings your lips to his in a deep kiss. Eddie has no right to be upset but seeing this man touch you and kiss you has him seeing red. Eddie knew he fucked up but he was determined to make it up to you. Just as Eddie turns his back away, you push at Sebastians chest and when his lips try to chase yours you turn away giving him your cheek instead.

Eddie finds himself back at the bar, drowning in whiskey and coke wondering if you'll find yourself in Sebastians bed. The thought alone churns his stomach, but he has no one to blame but himself. After his 4th drink, liquid courage raced through his veins and therefore the beginning of his drunk text messages.

Eddie: You never tolf me if Sebastan was your boyfriend

Eddie: he actz lik e your boyffiend

Eddie: is he youre fuckimg boyfriend!!

Eddie was right, you did end up in Sebastians bed that night. His warm body curled up behind you, anxious hands caressing and kneading your thighs, fingers gripped your hips pulling you close to rub against his clothed erection. He kissed your bare shoulder, gently moving your hair to the side to place wet kisses along your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that lingered in your hair. The bright glow of your phone stopped him from going further. Skinny fingers punched in your password as your soft breathes deepend, indicating you were now fully asleep. Sebastian looked over the messages Eddie sent you and sadness consumed him. He didn't understand why you couldnt reciprocate his adoration for you. To him you were it, his end goal and the woman of his dreams. He never once looked at other girls, despite having groupies throw themselves at him. He never looked for other relationships even though you clearly made yourself available to other men, sure you two weren't official but he still stayed loyal to you. He told you many times that he would never let you go, he'd wait for you for as long as it took. He types out a message and sends it to Eddie hoping it would steer him away from you.

You: He's not my boyfriend yet, but we do fuck.

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Taglist:

@amira0303 @hideoutside @edsforehead @skank-sinatra13 @kissmejoey @ms1oftheboys

[pochipop]

＃DILUC RAGNVINDR !! ♡ — DROWN ME IN YOUR FLAMES - CHAPTER II: TO DINE ON EMBERS.

#. synopsis! — with diluc's plan set in motion, you venture far outside your comfort zone (and far outside your own reality.) as you rekindle the long-lost spark you had with him in your youth, you realize rather quickly that this place is nothing short of disorienting; and as diluc gears up for his first fight, the arrival of some unexpected guests might just throw everything off its already rocky course .

#. characters! — diluc .

#. warnings! — brief mentions of alcohol presence and consumption .

#. word count! — 4.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam)

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. previous chapter! — here .

#. taglist! — @cafekiri , @sunukissed , @lez-zuha , @crowleyco , @sunlittsu . (if you'd like to be added/removed, contact me through tumblr dms or simply leave a reply under this post!)

As expected, gaining entrance to a so-called “abyssal zone” was no easy task. Diluc handled the formalities (if you could really call them that) over the coming days, —managed to track down where the next zone would be opening, made arrangements for his entrance under the appropriate moniker of “The Phoenix,” and even managed to find time in the evenings to swing by your family’s bakery and give you the day’s rundown. Those times, however, his presence was much less unwelcome, much more expected, and he actually purchased a few items during his loitering; some of which he would nibble on throughout the conversation, and others he would take back to the winery for the staff.

Your father remained mostly stagnant in his health, which was better than getting worse, of course, but far from what you would have wanted. It only made sense his condition wasn’t improving without the proper medicine, but it didn’t make the reality of it any less hurtful to bear witness to.

The door to the quaint shop opened just before closing time, and in stepped Diluc, hands adorned with those same black gloves that fit so snugly around his long fingers, —thick, brilliant hair pulled back and tied just above the nape of his neck. He really had grown up to be incredibly handsome in every sense of the word. Even the way he walked was alluring, head held upright and proud, boots thudding against the floor in a sturdy rhythm.

“Ah, you again,” you joke with him, “guess my baking skills have really turned you into a regular, huh?”

Diluc breaks his typically stoic demeanor to give you a slight smile.

“I suppose so,” he plays along. “That, and we have a long few days ahead of us, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

Were you ever.

It was hard to sleep last night knowing just what was approaching. You laid in bed, body quivering under the weight of the anxiety, whispering soothing phrases to yourself as if chanting “everything will be fine” to yourself just under your breath would somehow manifest that actuality. All things considered, something was bound to go wrong. What that something was, well, you’d just have to wait and find out, —and that thought made sleep none the easier to come by.

“Yeah,” you acknowledge, a solemn tone lacing through your voice. “I know.”

In the brief silence that follows, there’s a lingering sense of uncertainty that sends ripples of fear through the space between Diluc and yourself. It’s so thick that you’re sure he can feel it too, and you’re left to assume that’s why he continues on so promptly.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, but swiftly corrects himself, “—we’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

You worry it’s a promise he doesn’t quite have the faculties to keep, but choose not to voice your concerns just yet. If nothing else, starting the journey off on the right foot is likely the best you can do for him, and far be it from you to drag him down into this hellish pit of anxiety with you when it really doesn’t seem to be necessary.

“I trust you,” you say instead, giving him a slight nod.

It’s not just for show, either. Funnily enough, trusting Diluc was the easy part. Maybe it’s the influence of having known him so fondly in the past, —or maybe it’s just the way he carries himself as if he’s never faced an obstacle he couldn’t will himself to overcome. Either way, it was a simple endeavor to entrust your safety to him (perhaps a bit foolishly, and for better or worse.)

He doesn’t say it, but the way his eyes soften ever so slightly upon hearing that sentiment tells you everything you need to know. Diluc may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s a lover buried deep inside that chest of his, —one that cares and yearns and strives like there’ll never be another tomorrow. That’s how he’s always been, and it’s nice to know that some things really haven’t changed since you were close.

“We’re lucky the zone isn’t far off,” he continues, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We’ll have no trouble reaching the area before sundown if we leave soon.”

Lucky feels like a strong word, but you don’t seek to correct him.

“I’m ready when you are,” you confirm, mustering up the best brave-face you can.

The evening air makes for an uncomfortable walk, but you manage to keep up with Diluc’s long, deliberate strides. It doesn’t take long at all before he halts you in your tracks, opening his coat to pull a set of plain black Fatui masks from the inner pocket. When he hands one over to you, your face twists in a mixture of disgust and confusion, prompting him into an explanation.

“It’s a requirement for entry,” he states, “—trust me, I’m not a fan of it either.”

With a soft sigh, you slip the mask on and Diluc does the same. If nothing else, it looks good on him, you suppose; though that’s a pretty sorry excuse for self-comfort.

“It makes me uneasy knowing that something like this is happening so close to the city,” you comment.

This area of Windrise is so close that you can still see the soaring windmills of Mondstadt just off in the distance. Lingering shreds of sunlight still cling to the horizon, but the ever-darkening atmosphere feels much too fitting for the mood.

“I wish I could say it doesn’t worry me,” he answers despondently, “but I admit, there are nights it keeps me awake.”

You figure that’s part of the reason he hasn’t sought the help of anyone outside of his spy network. That, and he has a notoriously poor relationship with the Knights of Favonius these days, —not that you have any of the specifics on that (nor will you be asking anytime soon.)

“In any case, how exactly do we. . . Enter?” You ask, pushing the other worries to the back of your mind for the time being.

“Well, obviously I've never done it before," he begins, "but as far as I know, there should be a guide arriving soon enough. We just have to wait for them to show up."

"A guide?" You question. "What, is this interdimensional pocket of mimicked Teyvat supposed to be some kind of tourist attraction?"

Diluc let's out a soft snicker, a smile creeping onto his face just below the edge of his mask. If nothing else, it's nice to banter with him like this again. . . It feels natural in a way you hadn't expected, especially after so long.

"It shouldn't be too much longer now. The sun'll be completely set any minute, and once it's gone down, the zone entrance will open up for a bit. Tonight's the last night to gain entrance to this one, from what I hear," he says. 

"How long has this one been open for?" You inquire.

"I got wind of it six days ago, but I'm sure you can tack a few days, give or take, onto that. Most zones stay up for about two weeks their time, —not even a full day in Teyvat's typical timeline. I'm sure there's a range, but we'll know more once we've entered ourselves, so it's best not to make assumptions without proof," Diluc replies.

"How many people do you think will be there?"

"I couldn't say for certain," he shakes his head. "Henley said there was upwards of a hundred in the zone he entered, but I'm sure the number varies for a variety of reasons. At the very least though, it's safe to assume we'll see ten matches across the next two days, —mine included. That's at least two people, fighter and representative, plus who knows how many spectators willing to place bets. . ."

Diluc lets his words trail off, the low whisper of his tone going utterly silent. Through the slits of his mask, you can see his scarlet eyes follow something, —and you swallow the lump that instantly forms in your throat.

"Guide," he mouths to you, and it's then that you realize just how painfully unprepared you'd been this entire time.

It's far too late to turn back, but a part of you wants to run for the hills.

"Hello there," a surprisingly chipper, feminine voice says to the two of you.

Diluc moves to stand at your side, tugging you along by the wrist to turn your attention to a woman with wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, a Fatui mask in a different style than your own covering the top half of her small face. She's dressed in purple with a pair of nice, black dress shoes, and she all but skips along the grass to make your acquaintance.

"Dawn Winery's fighter and representative, I presume?" She inquires, a sickeningly sweet smile stretching across her rather delicate features.

If you'd have met her under any other circumstances, and she'd been void of that mask, you likely would have thought of her positively as a simple optimistic spirit. Here, however, her joyous demeanor unnerves you more than anything else.

"Correct," Diluc answers with an affirmative nod, "I hope we haven't kept anyone waiting too long."

"No, not at all!" She waves her hand dismissively, "—the true show doesn't begin for another few hours. The rest has been the usual mingling of the guests, enjoying the refreshments, things of that nature. Given that it's your first time, I'm sure the both of you will have some exploring of your own to do as well, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!"

You find it increasingly creepy how she speaks as if she's selling you some kind of retreat or an island getaway at a resort in another nation rather than slitting reality open just to send the two of you off to watch people punch each other. Nevertheless, you bow your head in thanks, forcing a smile onto your face that pales in comparison to her own.

"Thank you," Diluc vocalizes for the both of you.

She seems pleased enough with what little chit-chat has gone on thus far, clasping her hands together in front of her chest like an excitable child.

"Well then, I won't hold you up any longer!" She says cheerfully.

It's then that she pulls a pair of daggers from either pocket of her dress, gripping them so tightly that her knuckles lighten in the process. You take a cautious step away out of instinct, heart thundering against your ribcage. If not for the faint, blueish-purple glow of the blades, you might not have been able to spot them so quickly, and the thought of it is anxiety-inducing to say the very least.

"It's okay," Diluc whispers, —and if she happened to catch wind of it, she chose not to react.

The so-called guide raised one hand above her head, but kept the other at waist-position, and with a grunt that seemed to be more for show than anything else, plunged both daggers into something previously unseen. The blades were buried up to the neck, their glow completely stunted, —first by nothingness, and then by some black, oozing substance that you wouldn't have been able to identify even if you'd tried. Face scrunching up in visceral disgust, you fight the urge to take another step back, though the desire to put distance between yourself and whatever that is remains. 

"Sorry," she apologizes, but giggles as she does so like a little girl, "—I always forget to warn people that this part can get a little messy."

A little seems like a grave understatement to you, especially when the pitch black goo begins to seep from the open slits like puss. It churns your stomach just looking at it, and that feeling doubles tenfold the moment she yanks the daggers further along, creating a larger gash that intersects somewhere in the middle. 

"What is that stuff?" You question, fingers nervous curling around the end of Diluc's coat sleeve.

"Not sure," he mumbles under his breath, "some kind of secretion, it seems like, but. . . I really haven't a clue what it's made of."

The woman then proceeds to pull the oozing flaps apart, her daggers falling haphazardly to the grass at her feet. Despite having been buried in the thick of the goo, they're as clean as they were the moment she jabbed them in, but their glow has disappeared and they register as nothing more than typical weapons now. There's little to no struggle at all as she peels the two sides away until a hole more than large enough to climb through has been left in her wake. 

"Don't be nervous," she says, motioning for the both of you to come forward, "just step through! And don't be scared if you experience a little dizziness or nausea at first, it's just your body acclimating to the new surroundings."

Standing outside this weird, gaping hole has already made you dizzy and nauseated all on its own. You really didn't need any artificial help on that front.

"Thank you," Diluc says again.

Before you have the time to utter a single noise, he's walking forward and plunging a fearless leg through the misty entrance of the abyssal zone. He looks back only for you, as if sensing your anxiety before you could put it into words.

"Don't be nervous," the woman repeats herself, "—you're sure to have a good time."

You really don't want to go through with this, but somehow, staying in your everyday reality with her would appear to be a fate much worse. That, and after all the trouble Diluc and his team had gone through to set all of this into motion, you knew the guilt would eat at you much worse than any nausea ever could if you denied him this now when he’d already come this close. Thus, you hold your breath as you step through the blackened slit of the material world as you know it, preemptively reaching out for something to grasp hold of. For a moment, it feels like you’re falling, —like your body has slipped into a state of weightlessness and gravity has relinquished its hold over you.

A soft yelp escapes your lips and you find yourself feeling breathless, even as you meet with solid ground. It’s not so much dizziness or nausea that takes hold of you now, but more of an eerie unease; like your body is in fight or flight mode and you don’t know how to flip that switch off again. A chorus of unfamiliar voices fill the air, speaking words that you don’t quite catch over the reverberation of your thundering heartbeat.

“Y/n?” Diluc says, his softly-spoken call laying waste to the rest of the noise, “—are you okay?”

You look up at him with fear in your eyes, —fear that he wishes he could soothe away somehow.

“. . . Yeah,” you answer after a moment or two, “I’m okay.” 

You really are. Mostly, anyway. All things considered, that could have been exponentially worse, and as far as you can tell, the throes of it have ceased for the time being. The two of you are standing in the exact spot of vacant Windrise through which you’d entered, but darkness has yet to overtake this version. The sun still hangs up in the sky, and the isolation of the area as you knew it just prior has been overridden by a barrage of faces that you don’t recognize at all. You can tell by the various styles of dress that many of those standing around are not from Mondstadt, and it makes you wonder just how far some of them must have traveled to be in attendance today. . . Makes you wonder how they managed to get here without raising suspicion somehow, just considering the sheer numbers they've peaked at.

“There's. . . A lot of people here,” you mutter.

Diluc nods, then motions for you to follow along with him. He all but exudes the kind of calmness you wish you could have under these circumstances as he saunters into the crowd, taking quick glances at those around him. You catch bits and pieces of various conversations in passing along the way.

“Last I heard, they were struggling to pay back the hefty sum they lost in the last fight. . .”

“The drinks they’re serving this go around are much better. . .”

“It’s a shame! He was a good fighter, but poor management of finances can kill even the loftiest of businessmen these days. . .”

You’re quick to tune out. When it comes to discussions of the rich and powerful, you’re hardly one with a stake in the waters. Diluc, on the other hand, you know to be quite affluent, and you’re sure he could hold his own much better in such conversations if the need presented itself.

You make a mental note to ask him about that later. Considering how much these people seem to enjoy chatting amongst themselves, you’re sure a time will come when you’ll have to be part of the conversation, and it would likely be best for you to know the basics of it all if nothing else. Like it or not, you have an image to keep up in this place as the face and subsequent mouthpiece of Dawn Winery. Having to talk the talk and walk the walk simply comes with the territory, and you've gotten yourself wrapped up in all of this quite tightly, so it's only fair that you make appropriate efforts. 

“Where are we going?” You question. 

Knowing Diluc, he has to have some sort of plan. He’s not the type to rush into anything without some form of meticulous planning. Not much has changed about him in that regard, and that makes you happy, though you couldn’t exactly say why. 

“To scope the area,” he replies. “Look just up ahead and tell me what you see.”

Right to work it is then, you suppose. . .

Focusing your gaze ahead, you scan the general area with an inquisitive scrutiny. There’s green grass, a few of Mondstadt’s representative dandelion’s bent in the breeze, —nothing you’d consider to be out of the ordinary. You keep pace with Diluc in spite of his longer legs, searching for anything to hone in on.

“I don’t get it,” you admit. “Is there something in particular I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“Nothing like that,” he answers, “—but you’re being too near-sighted. Take a look at the bigger picture and try again.”

Sometimes, Diluc talks in circles. It’s not for the pleasure of annoying you or making you feel less intelligent, even if it can admittedly have those effects every now and again. He does it in order to encourage your critical thinking and spur you to consider all possibilities whenever the option presents itself. Now, you acknowledge, must be one of those times.

Staring straight ahead now, you squint your eyes off into the distance. . . And that’s when it hits you. The closer you get to the oncoming trees and bushes, the less they seem to be fully there. From back where you’d entered, the general blur of the horizon line wasn’t as visible, and Archons knows how Diluc was able to pick up on it so quickly from so far away. It’s blurry now as you come closer to the edge, like the background of a painting that’s been smudged over time.

Diluc takes your silence as understanding and stops just short of the haze.

“If you watch closely, you can see it ebb and flow like water,” he says.

Indeed, he’s right again, and just the sight of it leaves you feeling a bit seasick.

“What does it mean?” You inquire.

“That these zones likely aren’t as stable as anyone here would like to think,” Diluc replies. “Don’t forget, this place is connected to a realm we know little to nothing about. They’re created by harnessing power even the elemental Archons might not have been able to fully decipher.”

Add that to the list of reasons for you to get out of here as soon as possible.

“That being said, we should go back with the others. It’s best not to draw attention to ourselves, and being outliers like this is sure to do just that if we’re not careful about it.”

“I think it’d also be best to stay away from these spots,” you tell him. “I know it might sound silly, but just being so close to the edge has given me chills. I feel like standing here is inviting something dangerous to happen, and I’m sure we’d both rather avoid that at all costs.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“Agreed.” 

You're thankful that he's bothered to take your feelings on the matter into consideration. That's a rather low bar, of course, but it happens to mean a lot coming from someone as capable as Diluc. He's experienced in this area to some degree, —possesses knowledge that you likely won't ever be privy to. . . But he's listening. As if he trusts your intuition on this, even when all he has to go on is your word. 

"Do you know how long we'll be here?" You inquire. "A rough estimate, at least?"

"Hard to say now," he replies, sounding somewhat apologetic about it, even when it's clear that you're not upset by his lack of an answer.

The vagueness is something you expected, though you get the feeling that part of it is purposeful on his part. Even if he's allowed you to come this far, perhaps he's still uncertain as to just how much he can trust you. It's understandable, to a degree, but. . . You can't say it doesn't wound you a bit, even if you get it.

"In any case, we have time to burn," Diluc says. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I don't think I could stomach anything," you reply honestly.

It's not so much the nausea you were warned about, or even a general sense of sickness. The anxiety of this situation is the real killer here, and it's clawing away at you with maximum fortitude. Try as you might to keep it under wraps, you're sure most of it has been obvious to Diluc from the start, —and you'd be right about that. He's picked up on your unease and has taken the liberty of squashing as much of it as he can to the best of his ability. You're a simple individual in many respects, so taking you away from the crowded areas and giving you a better feel for the situation was strategic on his part. The fact that it aided in his understanding of the abyssal zone was simply a net positive; —the sweet syrup drizzled atop a stack of fluffy pancakes.

"Fair enough," the redhead says, offering you the glimpse of a smile.

He pauses, as if thinking on what to say next, then utters: "Let's grab two glasses for the sake of appearances. We'll find somewhere to stand and observe."

You're quick to agree. From the long, stretching table sat off to the side, Diluc parts with you for just a few moments to snag two glasses of deep-red wine. As he hands you yours, he takes a small sip from his own, then makes a subtle face.

"Not good?" You inquire as a giggle bubbles up from your chest.

He considers this a win. If you're amused, it means he's at least partially succeeding in making you feel safe at his side.

"Not good," he confirms with a shake of his head.

You take his word for it and leave yours untouched.

"Stand beside me," Diluc prompts, though it sounds more like an offer than a command.

His voice is soft when directed at you, like he's trying to temper your nerves in any way he can.

"That man over there," he begins, "the one in complete Fatui garb. Do you recognize him?"

Surprisingly enough, there aren't many actual agents of the Fatui here. You'd spotted a few thus far, but considering just how many longer around Mondstadt City and the surrounding areas, you were almost expecting a full house of them. Instead, you've found that their presence here is minal, as if donning the masks has made everyone in attendance an affiliate. The thought of it is a bit disturbing.

This agent, however, is pleasantly familiar. It's actually quite the relief to see him here.

"That's Henley, isn't it?" You inquire, keeping your voice low and facial expressions to a minimum in order to avoid suspicion. 

Even with this mask on the upper half of your face, you find yourself being rather cautious of what you allow yourself to show so visibly. 

"Correct you are," Diluc replies, taking another unhappy sip of his wine. "And the young woman just over there, with the long, black hair? Her name is Eloise. She's also a member of my network, —albeit much newer than Henley. I say this to assure you that no matter what, there are people looking out for you here."

As if sensing that she's been introduced, Eloise looks over her shoulder, catching Diluc's gaze before letting it flicker over to you. She gives you a quick, warm smile, then returns her attention back to the two young men she'd been chatting with. Even from afar, you can tell that she knows how to control a conversation. It seems the two men before her are practically eating out of her palm, and you find that quite impressive.

"I do trust you, Diluc," you say to him. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have had the nerve to come."

He already understands as much.

"And I trust you," he confirms. "Not just to make the calls during fights, —not just to be Dawn Winery's executive official. . . But with all the information I know about these places, and all that I can tell you about the work I've done from the shadows."

You suspect there's a lot of truth to that, but have to question the extent of it. There's quite a bit you've been left in the dark on, and perhaps that information will come with time, but for right now, you're hard pressed to believe that Diluc has told you everything you should know. Still, you give him a small smile in spite of that.

That smile fades, however, when everyone's chatter goes silent. An air of unease overtakes the entire space, as if sucking the oxygen from everyone's lungs, rendering them utterly speechless. Diluc seems much less afraid than you, but you can tell that his guard is up quite high.

It only takes a moment longer for you to understand what all the proverbial fuss is about. From a swirling, blue-purple, portal-like entryway completely opposite the oozing slit you and Diluc had stumbled in from; a trio of well-dressed individuals emerge. The first of the bunch is a raven haired man with rounded glasses and a deceptive smile. You feel chills creep up your spine from having just seen him, even from afar. The next is a much shorter, stouter, aged man who also dons glasses on his face; but these are pure circles perched along his lengthy nose. Below sits a curled mustache that covers his top lip entirely, and on his head he wears a tall hat adorned with many enrichments.

Lastly, a stoic-faced woman with silvery-white hair that bears a section of much darker strands toward the front moves to the head of the small group, her sharp gaze flickering about her surroundings. Even this miniscule gesture leaves your nerves prickling. She commands so much respect from simply existing in this space that it’s almost unreal. The tension that surrounds everyone can be cut with a knife, and you hold your breath without meaning to.

“W-Who are they?” You stutter.

The wine glass in your hand bears the remnants of your fear, the crystalline glass fogging up as a result of your clammy palm.

These three aren’t wearing masks, their faces in full view. . . Henley steps forward from out of the crowd, and you resist the urge to call out to him to beg him just to fall back in line and play along. You don’t know who these people are, but one thing is for certain: you don’t want to get on their bad sides. The brunet man unsheathes the sword he wears on his hip, stabbing it directly into the dirt between his feet. He falls to a single knee, head bowed in what you can only assume is an expression of respect. The crowd follows in suit, kneeling before the three of them. Diluc pulls you down with him, and you barely manage to keep your wine from spilling all over the grass.

His tone is hushed and urgent, head turning to meet your eyes for no longer than the time it takes to utter a single word in reply.

“Harbingers.”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

A Hard Day's Night - Part Five

Summary: Your weekend plans with August threaten to fall apart when it turns out he's been under quite a lot of stress...

Series warnings: SMUT - NSFW, 18+ - Minors DNI! ,

througout - D/s, Male!Dom, Fem!sub, praise kink, use of pet names

part specific - Masturbation (f), fingering, oral (m+f receiving), deepthroating, p in v sex, unprotected sex (be smarter, y'all), slight voyeurism, size kink? if you squint when the planets are aligned..., some angst, use of safeword (Part 4: see A/N for info)

Pairing: August Walker x Fem!Reader (no y/n)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Word count: 1.5k

Part Five warnings: Fingering, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected or at least condomless), creampie, (finally, after 6k: 1 use of the word daddy)

A/N: This has been in my WIP's forever, and I thought "it's crap, I need to edit the shit out of this" and then I just read it and it turned out that naaaaah...

@peaches1958 @summersong69

Strong hands once again took hold of you, this time to move you so that you could take the place on the couch that he had thus far held, while he assumed yours. August on his knees before you was a sight you thought you might never get used to; he looked so out of place, and yet so at ease, at home, even, as he settled between your legs and pushed your thighs apart. Your entire body trembled - in anticipation, and with residual exhilaration from your victory. Soft, slow kisses lingered on your skin as the wet trail that soon ran from halfway down your thigh, up to the throbbing heat between your legs. You were mostly glad when he teased you only a short while, eager to receive the reward for which you had worked so diligently.

A gasp escaped you when his tongue dug between your folds to lick the length of your wet slit before his mouth descended onto the small bundle of nerves that ached so incredibly for his undivided attention. Two fingers found its way inside your core, curling up to find that special spot, and soon he had you writhing under his touch, unable to keep quiet as every move of his hands and tongue. Each time he gently sucked on your clit, you whined and he chuckled. You knew he was dragging this out; if he had wanted it, his hands would have brought you to your undoing not a minute after he started. But you indulged him - you had to, for you were not quite sure what the consequences would be if you didn’t, but you were sure they would be nowhere near as good as this. He did not speak, instead, he kept working your clit with his mouth, his fingers still buried deep within your wet cunt, until you finally couldn’t take any more of it. 

“August!” It was all you could manage, and he understood perfectly. The fact that he did not stop, did not change pace, pressure or movements, but instead continued steadily, was his silent permission for you to come undone in his hands. Your fingers twisted into his hair so you could pull him even closer to you as he kept pumping his fingers inside you and gently sucked your clit until your hips finally stilled as you came down from your high.

“Thank you,” you breathed as he got up from the ground. 

“You deserved it, darling,” he said simply, as if that settled everything. His fingers came up to your mouth, and without even thinking about it, you opened your mouth to lick them clean. 

Before you had good and well returned to reality, you were already being pulled up into his arms. He sat back down on the couch, placing you with one knee on either side of his hips. His face disappeared into your neck, where the coarse hair on his chin scratched softly at your sensitive skin as he kissed all the way from your ear to your collarbone. With a soft groan, he dipped into your cleavage. You had to hold on to his shoulders to ensure you would not fall backwards. His hands traveled up your sides and his thumbs grazed at the side of your breasts. Your nipples had already hardened beneath the sheer red lace of your underwear.

Fingers brushed your exposed skin, goosebumps left in their wake as they toyed carefully with the edge of the cups of your bra, before descending and brushing over your nipples. You whined at the touch, wishing for a more stern approach. As if he could read your mind - and he likely could, as the truth of the matter was that your desires lay openly displayed on your face for anyone to see - he pulled one strap off your shoulder and pulled the fabric that covered your breast down to give himself access to your soft flesh. His mouth followed his hand swiftly, latching on to your nipple and sucking gently. You writhed in his lap, and felt his erection press against your wet lips.

Trembling fingers plucked nervously at the buttons of his shirt, taking several tries to open each one of them. His hands reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, and the distracting kneading of your breasts continued, now alternating between sides every so often, making it even harder for you to undo the final few buttons of his shirt. Once you had finally dealt with the fabric that formed the final barrier between your skin and his, you pushed against his shoulder. He fell back willingly at your touch, and allowed your mouth to seek out his. You rocked your hips against him as you deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth with your tongue, digging your hands into his dark curls. Your fingers explored the coarse hair on his chest, trailing down to his stomach. Awaiting permission, your fingers lingered there, until he broke your kiss so he was able to speak. 

“Sit on my cock, baby,” he whispered softly as his hands hooked beneath your thighs and lifted you higher onto your knees. August groaned when your hand wrapped around him; his breath hitched when he felt the tip brush past your clit and further back towards the slick entrance of your core. You lowered yourself onto him, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock as he filled you up completely. The feeling forced a long moan from deep within your chest, August himself could not stifle a grunt of pleasure at the sensation of being engulfed by the warmth of your pussy. You took a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar position, gently rocking your hips back and forth, basking in the delightful sounds of August’s impatient whines.

A finger hooked beneath your chin, pulling it up so that your eyes could meet. You managed to maintain eye contact as you lifted yourself off his lap until his cock was barely inside you anymore so agonizingly slowly that you saw August clench his jaw in frustration. A few short, shallow moves of your hips made him grit his teeth so hard that you could hear it, and from between these teeth escaped an almost animalistic growl when you dropped yourself back into his lap in one swift motion. You repeated the process a few times, while his mouth voyaged again to your neck and chest, conquering every inch, sucking and biting the most sensitive spots - sometimes gently, other times harshly enough to mark your skin. August’s whimpers grew increasingly impatient every time you lifted your hips off his lap, and his moans became more and more feral each time you let yourself fall back onto his cock.

You relished every moment - August hardly ever allowed you to take some control and tease him like this, and you knew how fickle his mood could be. The thought had barely crossed your mind or a deep, startling growl pulled you away from your thoughts. Before you could register what was happening, you were being lifted off the couch. Effortlessly, August put you on your knees on the seat of the sofa, and bent you over the back of it by pushing your head down. The sharp sting of a swift spank on your ass snapped you back to the present. 

“As lovely as that was,” August snarled as his palm struck the bare skin of your behind once again, “I think you need to be reminded that you don’t make the rules around here, princess.” 

Your body bubbled with excitement as August lined his cock up with the entrance of your drenched pussy and wasted no time at all to plunge himself deep inside with one swift thrust. For a deceitfully peaceful moment, he stayed still, as he relished the warmth of your slick cunt around his throbbing length. When he finally moved, you gasped, as he started fucking into you at an unrelenting pace. You could tell from the quickening of his breath and the faltering of his rhythm that he was not going to last much longer. High-pitched moans and squeals escaped you as he thrust inside you hard, fast and perhaps a little too harshly to take completely comfortably, but so incredibly good that you took a bit of soreness for granted. You were slumped over the back of the couch, eyes drifting closed as August slammed into you, thrusts following each other in a rhythm that grew increasingly erratic until there was hardly any cause to speak of any kind of rhythm at all. With all of your strength, you managed an answer to the question you heard coming from behind you. 

“Do you want me to fill up this sweet little cunt, baby?”

Every fiber of your being screamed ‘YES!’, but all you could manage was a soft moan: “Yes, daddy.” 

Immediately mortified at the words that had come out of your mouth, you tried to move away from him, but August held your hips firmly and pulled them towards him as he thrust into you a last time. With a growl, he emptied himself inside of you.

-> Part 6

[utilitycaster]

I like your posts because you're honest and usually have takes that differ from the mainstream and I was wondering if the Lucien Novel changed or maybe re-enforced ideas you've had before.

Hi anon,

First off, thank you for what is, for me, the highest compliment! I really appreciate it.

As for the book, for the most part it reinforced my ideas, but it also made me care more about some characters, and provided a lot of insight into Lucien that I appreciated. I did write up why I liked Brevyn, who was introduced in this book, over here.

(by the way this is not below a cut but is full of spoilers and is tagged as such)

The general thesis of the book felt, to me, that Lucien was a manipulative, selfish asshole who had a legitimately rough life, but who basically deliberately decided to be a selfish asshole at every opportunity. The one truly noble thing he did, in my opinion, is sending Aldreda off to the Empire; but also he did that because he killed their parents in cold blood before the age of 12, and then he proceeded to utterly fuck up that relationship by not writing. He could have lived a boring stable life in the Empire once she was established if he'd maintained that relationship, but he didn't even bother to write half the time. I actually hadn't totally loved how Lucien seemed to be receptive to the Nein appealing to Molly, given how far he was down the rabbit hole of Charismatic Abusive Cult Leader at that point, but the reveal that there was some shard of something - Molly, Kingsley, or some Moonweaver-approved shred of a decent person and of memory - fighting inside of him helped make that make sense. Anyway, since I openly thought Lucien absolutely sucked in every possible way I was pleasantly surprised to find that a book about him managed to make him both more understandable but also just as if not more monstrous.

I also liked that it made the other tombtakers more sympathetic and gave them somewhat more personality. Jurrell was incredibly fun; I've already said that I love Brevyn (and her death made the attitude towards Vess much more resonant)I love that Tyffial continues to embody "go girl give us nothing"; I love that Otis is kind of a huge loser actually (Lucien: Otis was tough. The book: Otis has never passed a constitution save in his life), and Zoran became something more than dumb muscle whom Otis thinks smells weird (I trust Zoran more than Otis). It also explained a lot about Cree - her relationship with Lucien dating back to childhood and her belief in "the glint" explain why she is the one who keeps the faith the longest, even two years after Lucien dies, even after Molly is clearly not the same person, even after everyone else in the tombtakers has died. It's the sort of relationship that could only come from a very long-term, almost familial friendship that the rest lacked, and it explains why she follows him to her doom. (And it makes Lucien even worse of a person).

The other two highlights are:

Vess DeRogna, because I do love evil elven women who wear a lot of green. I love that she's a bird person [note for anyone reading this who did not read the book: in the sense that her Magnificent Mansion is called the Aviary and is full of birds, not that she's secretly an eisfuura] and I love that she, a known neutral evil person who is just terrible and uncaring all around, still stops short of following the Somnovem and says 'wait a minute', underscoring that Lucien is someone who could have chosen to redeem himself and at every opportunity is like "what if I were worse though."

The choice to make this third-person limited, so that we're really experiencing this from Lucien's perspective, means we get Lucien's take on the Mighty Nein and he makes LITERALLY EVERY MISTAKE POSSIBLE. He underestimates Fjord, he really underestimates Jester and Veth, he has a dumb ego trip about outsmarting wizards and the Cobalt Soul in the past that really fucks him up about Caleb and Beau, he mostly ignores Caduceus and Essek (something something a villain cannot see the value of support casters) and the shard of Molly keeps being like "hey, Yasha is important to you, dickhead". It's GREAT.

Finally, while this was mostly about confirming my feelings from C2, two other fun notes:

love the Bolo reference. very fun.

This might be unpopular but as someone who has vocally been like "Caleb/Molly has literally zero chemistry", overlaying Lucien kissing Brevyn's forehead as she died with Molly kissing Caleb's forehead when Caleb was having an episode is the very first time in what is now almost five years since the start of Campaign 2 when I could muster up even a tiny shred of appreciation for Caleb/Molly. Like, I do not ship it, but Madeleine Roux has made me vaguely see why someone might, in a way that 141 episodes of the actual show and however much fan content could not. And that is fucking impressive of her.

[tsururoach]

Hello! I saw your Jade x Silver fanart, I love this ship too. Do you have any headcanon for them?

Well.

The short answer is that I really like the idea of them being both the most outwardly ‘calm’ and ‘normal’ of their respective dorms, but are incredibly strange in their own right. 

Jade, having incredible amounts of intrapersonal knowledge that he fully understands vs Silver’s honest and genuine lack of common sense (concerning people) but still managing to have it pan out- I love the idea that they look and feel like a normal duo from afar, but are so incredibly strange when you listen in. And honestly. Neither of them listen to that common sense most of the time.

I also love homophobic Floyd. Live Snail Reacts Floyd. Floyd who hopes they’ll get together because it’s annoying to see Jade blush like a Victorian Maiden.

I feel like both, too are overachievers when it comes to things they care for as well, which adds a nice balance, even if it may look imbalanced at first. 

Jade’s love language is probably the most visible, with gift giving, quality time, and perhaps physical touch.

Silver’s love language is likely mostly quality time, affirmations, and acts of service.  

The way this likely probably ends up, is that Jade finds most joy in say, making sure Silver is okay, and y’know. Cooking. Honestly Originally when examining Jade’s character, I always felt like he too wanted something “interesting” like Floyd, but I think it’s a little different. Floyd is more likely to like ‘challenges’ while Jade would probably prefer something more like ‘mystery’ than a challenge. 

It’s implied in TWST, that Jade is not as naturally smart nor talented as either of his childhood friends, and he has to actively work harder-- Floyd is a genius who just has poor motivation, while Azul is a Capitalist (jk he’s a genius as well). I feel like he likes new and interesting things, that he can explore on his own, in his own time. Hence why I think it’s so notable that his favorite Thing, mushrooms, is not particularly chased after by his dorm mates. While Silver is acquainted with both Azul and Floyd, outside of Azul’s business mindset, they’re not particularly interested in him. Also out of the Oct trio, from just a character standpoint, he’s the one who probably most needs a relationship that aren’t tied to the other two. Not only that, I think it would be easier on Jade to be with someone so bluntly honest, in contrast to his Unique magic. 

Silver... is just honest, and he already has an admiration of Jade for his management and hard work. It’s not hard to imagine it becoming more genuine feelings after time. Not only that, Jade does seem to be willing to go with Silver’s more empty headed tendencies, and share more than just one common interest. One thing of note is hiking, aside from mushrooms. Silver is a very passive character, emotion wise, in my mind so usually I find that Jade would be the one to pursue him, but I can see it playing out in different ways. Silver also seems like the type of guy to go with the flow and not actively seek people unless they need him.

One thing that I particularly like is that how Silver is usually the quiet one, who doesn’t talk as much, but I think he could really talk a lot to Jade about nature, the fae, and his home life back then, rather than just play the passive party in every conversation. 

HCs:

Jade and Silver having discussions about the differences between the fae, humans, and mermaids

I think Jade would be curious about culture and etc, whether it out of just curiosity, or because it can help Monstro Lounge. 

Silver having Jade help him with his narcolepsy, especially with more dangerous things like cooking.

Jade plans a head pretty well, and I can see him being prepared for a lot of situations

Jade nudging Silver to keep him awake!!!!!!!!!!! Silver Falling Asleep On Jade’s Shoulder!!!!!

They cook together (look at point above)

I love domestic things. 

I feel like cooking while camping would become a thing first, before habitually they start doing it at dorms as well. 

Forager Silver ww... Jade stops needing to bring too much ingredients to hiking trips. 

I feel like Silver is very routine oriented, and good at cultivating plants and knows more obscure ones to share with Jade

Silver showing Jade some swordsmanship, and somehow coercing him to try horse back riding (I can’t imagine he liked it)

But, plus points, Jade sitting on a horse WITH Silver

Both are extremely passionate people, but I can see after they get used to each other, their conversation starts skipping context and words, so they’re a bit hard to follow

a whole new level of wavelength

Silver helping out Jade or accompanying him to Monstro Lounge!!! 

Silver being a strong swimmer vs Jade being merman

Floyd’s nickname being Jellyfish... mushroom??

Conspiracy board image here

THEY DEFINITELY HAVE FREQUENT CAMPING OUTINGS

I adore the idea their relationship is largely unspoken, and they don’t necessarily call it dating, and it’s a  small shift to an ‘oh’ Moment.

[mythrilpencil]

So I decided to give my character Felix a cat-bird, plus wrote a little short about how that happened:

[Excerpt from Felix’s Journal]

47th Zeph

Today was quite interesting.

The crew and I were asked to sail to an island downwind of the Observatory—a small island, close enough to the cloud barrier to be quite temperate and forested. Ensign Rigel was to talk to the village leader about a supply situation, but I was just to navigate them there and back. So I had some free time, especially as a storm blew in while we were there, rooting us on the island for longer than scheduled.

It wasn’t the worst storm I’ve faired; had there been a need, I could have sailed us back with little issue. It was mostly a swell from the barrier. But there was no need, and it was around supper time, so the locals insisted we stay. Friendly folk. 

So we hung around for a little while just under the porch of the village head’s house—a small hut, but sturdy thanks to salvaged stones from the ruin I found on the south side of the island. But while we were making idle conversation with the leader’s wife, I heard some strange noises. Not from the storm—there was no thunder, just wind. It sounded like a watered whistle at first.

I left Rigel to continue talking to the locals while I investigated, and shortly I found the source of the noise: a tiny little cat-bird tangled in a bush, presumably from the storm winds. He’s a Blue Glider, but I’m positive he’s still a juvenile—he still has brown speckles across the back of his wings, and he is incredibly scrawny. Poor thing looked like he had been tangled for most of the storm. 

So I managed to untangle the little critter and bring it back to the others. But even after asking around the whole village, I wasn’t able to identify his owner. Because he looks like he’s been owned before, even if briefly. He acts like it, too—he took quite the liking to me within minutes of me finding him. More accurately, he took a liking to my sandwich. Snatched the meat out right as I glanced away, and he looked incredibly proud of himself for doing so.

The crew and I sailed back to the Observatory as soon as the storm calmed; we arrived just after 10 tonight. Not too bad, all things considered.

I’m keeping an eye on the little cat-bird until we can find his owner or someone to claim him. Maia decided to call him Nimbus as soon as she saw him perched on my shoulder—I told her to not name him too quickly in case he already has an owner and a name, but she insisted. Because of course she did. So Nimbus he is, for the time being. 

He’s a funny creature. Very bouncy, but doesn’t like to fly too far from me. Likes to sniff and chirp at everyone, though.

He’s perched on the edge of my desk now. Chirped to get my attention—now I think he’s staring at my quill.

[There’s a smudge of ink across the bottom of the page, just barely missing the writing. A ghost of a cat-bird’s paw print can be seen at the edge of the ink smudge]

———

(A Blue Glider is a breed of cat-bird, basically a Russian Blue with the wings of a sandhill crane)

[dei-lab-assistant]

"Technoblade Never Dies"

A short reader-insert story I wrote Thursday night as a way of dealing with my emotions after finding out Technoblade died. :(

Sort of gives the reader a chance to say goodbye. Word count: 1717 words

Everyone saw Technoblade differently. Some of his officers spoke of his impossibly broad shoulders, and tireless right arm, while others recalled a mask of antlers and bone. Those who opposed him on the battlefield and managed to survive returned home with stories of “The Blade,” an inhuman being more monster than man. Disbelieving nurses tending to wounded soldiers heard stories of an immortal being with blazing red eyes and the Devil’s hooves, “The Blood God.” Visiting dignitaries recounted the visage of a stern man, wearing an imposing crown and immaculate clothing befitting his station as a prince. While many shrank from him in fear, the palace servants who took care of him seemed to see a little boy, soft and comely, who threatened far more than he ever intended to actually carry out. Without exception, animals loved him.

You saw your own version of Technoblade. To your eyes, he was a slender young man with flowing pink hair that shone in the sunlight, a man who moved with absolute grace and assurance, a man who stood straight and strong, with the kindest eyes. 

You were never supposed to grow up to be anyone important. Your mother worked in the palace, and your job was mostly to stay out of the way. And you knew you were lucky to be in the situation; in most kingdoms a woman who bore an illegitimate child while working in the palace would have been fired. But your mom always said you were born under a lucky star. 

As a child, you liked to watch Technoblade train the new officer recruits. Since you always watched from your favorite, vine-covered hiding place, you thought he had no idea you were there. Afterwards, when everyone cleared out, you would grab your stolen practice sword and imitate whatever drills you could remember. However, one day, while you were practicing, Technoblade stepped into your field of vision and grabbed your wooden sword midswing. “I don’t remember recruiting any children to fight in my army.” You started to apologize, but the man laughed and released your sword. “You’ve already got better form than most of the men I was training today. Keep working at it and one day you’ll be ready to fight at my side.”

As you grew older, Technoblade took further notice of your talent and began to give you formal lessons in the art of war. Since you lacked a noble’s title, palace functionaries spoke badly of your rising position in the palace, but Technoblade viewed people with a far more meritocratic eye. Time passed, and in your teenage years you found yourself holding the newly created title of “Technoblade’s Official Assistant.” 

In an often dreary world of paperwork and palace intrigue, Technoblade was a bright light, illuminating your world with his gentle dark humor. He played at not caring, he pretended to make fun of those around him, he made you laugh—and behind it all, you could always hear his kindness, a warmhearted soul who seemed so at odds with his incredible abilities with any weapon of war. Once you gained his trust, you risked calling The Blade  “Techno,” even though it seemed scandalously informal. Laughing, he called you a nerd who would be better served using that courage to ask for a raise. You laughed too, and asked for a raise. You got one.

By the time you became his assistant, you realized how odd it was that while you grew from a young child to a teenager, he never aged at all. Perhaps this was what was truly meant by his rallying cry of “Technoblade never dies!”

You met his tall blond friend, a man dressed in green with a big striped hat. Of course, you’d heard rumors of this man. After Techno introduced his friend as “Phil,” you asked the green clad man, “Are you Death?”

“You’ve found a gutsy apprentice, Techno.”

“One of the first questions the little brat asked me back when we started training together was, ‘Are you really the Blood God?’ I think finding out I only worked for the Blood God was a disappointment.”

Phil shrugged, and answered your question,  “I’m not Death, no. I only work for her.”

As the times changed, the kingdom fell into peace, and the people grew distrustful of Technoblade, who had fought so many battles on their behalf. Soon he was exiled to a quiet corner of the kingdom, where he was supposed to live in obscurity. Although you were offered a position of importance in the palace, you opted to stay with Techno; better to work for a man of honor in obscurity than sully your hands with the schemes of a dozen greedy men vying for power in the palace.

Surprisingly, Techno excelled at encouraging plants to grow, and soon, the two of you were developing new ways of farming. Sometimes you thought you liked this version of Techno best, finding him hard at work in the fields, with a big straw hat and dirt under his fingernails, or hunched over his desk drafting plans for new farming techniques. You helped where you could.

By the time you were in your early twenties, you fell into believing your life would always go on like this. But then one day, while Techno was out in the fields, a knock at the gate brought you out of the rustic compound you both lived in. Phil stood there, awkwardly holding his hat in his hands. Several months had passed since his last visit, but the man was always welcome. Before you could ask him to step inside, Phil jammed his hat onto his head and pulled it down so low it completely hid his eyes. “What’s wrong, Phil?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not here as Phil today.”

“What?”

“Today I’m the Angel of Death, and I need you to follow me quickly.”

You didn’t fully understand what he meant, or why you needed to follow, but without a second thought you closed the gate and followed the man.

Twenty minutes later, you stood at the edge of the newest field, which was now strewn with more corpses than you could count. The scent of blood hung heavy on the air.

“What…what happened?”

Your companion shook his head, “These men thought they could sneak into the country here and loot the nearest town. They were fools.”

As Technoblade’s assistant, you had followed him into battle. You knew he was formidable, but you never realized he was this good at fighting—there had to be at least one hundred men lying in the dirt of the field. 

A slowly growing fear began gnawing at the back of your mind. “Where’s Techno?” When Phil hesitated, you asked again more urgently, “Where’s Techno?”

The Angel of Death slowly raised a hand to point towards the sea of bodies. Squinting in the harsh sunlight, you glimpsed a dash of pink. “I brought you here to say goodbye.” This was impossible. Inconceivable. Wrong. Opening your mouth to protest, you noticed Phil was silently crying. “You best hurry; he doesn’t have long.”

And that’s how you found yourself running through what felt like a million corpses. Finding the barely breathing body of your friend, you yanked a dead man off of him. With great raspy breaths, Techno forced himself to sit up, leaning against the piled dead to steady himself. “If you’re here to ask for a raise, I think you might have to come back tomorrow.”  

“Techno—” Your voice broke as you took in the sheer number of wounds covering every inch of his body. No doctor could fix this. You knelt in the bloody, muddy ground next to him. “I should have been here. I should have fought at your side.”

“Nonsense. I was more than enough for these idiots.” He tried to smile, “But I think I might need a break now.”

“But you can’t have a break!” You knew you were being irrational, but didn’t care. “Technoblade never dies, right? I won’t believe you were lying all those times you shouted it on the battlefield.”

Techno let his hoe fall from his hand, and you realized he had wrought this scene of carnage with nothing but farming equipment. His eyes crinkled in a real smile. “I used to be called “Alex,” a long time ago, before the Blood God marked me as his own.”

“Alex?” The name felt strange in your mouth.

“But that name doesn’t feel right anymore.”

“Techno…” He smiled again when you said his name, “what should I do now?”

Your friend closed his eyes and focused on breathing for what felt like an eternity. 

With a Herculean effort, Techno opened his eyes and reached out towards you, “Give me your hand.”

You muffled a sob and took his cold fingers in your own.

“You were right.” He stared into your eyes, “Technoblade never dies.” Suddenly, you felt his hand grow warmer. With a sudden movement, his hand slipped out of yours and grabbed your wrist. His hand was hot against your skin, almost burning you, but his eyes were calm. For a moment, all seemed right in the world. You saw the laughing prince you first followed as a child. 

Techno’s fingers turned to ice and fell limply to the ground. You frantically felt for a pulse, finding nothing but an unnaturally cold corpse which moments ago was your friend.

That’s when you first heard the tiny whisper in the back of your mind. Blood. You rubbed your wrist, which still felt unusually warm to the touch. Blood. Phil joined you, gently lifting the body of his friend, but you barely noticed until he spoke to you, asking if you were all right. You nodded numbly, staring in the direction the marauders came from. Phil eventually left, and the sun continued across the sky. As evening arrived, you noticed you had picked up the broken sword from one of the dead men all around you. And the voices whispered again and again. They should have frightened you, but they didn’t, they couldn’t. Blood for the Blood God. 

Echoing in your mind, weaving itself amongst the voices, were the last words of your friend, “Technoblade never dies.” 

For the first time, you fully understood the meaning of the phrase.

[bumblerhizal]

hello!! for your OCs 👀👀 Novhen, Pavle and Helga: 👊 [fighting] 🍼 [taking care of children] 🍀 [luck] ⌛️ [time management]

hello yourself!!! thanks for the ask!

👊 Fighting

Obviously, they're all at least a little capable in a fight, but none are warriors. In a fair one-on-one fight, no magic, they are all significantly less likely to win

Novhen is more trained on crowd control and stealth, so while he can and does hold his own in a fight, he's not the one dealing most of the damage and certainly not the one absorbing it. It's a bit odd for a hero of the land type, but he is thoroughly a support build

Helga has won her fair share of bar fights. She is similarly capable in a fight but relies on tricks of her own to take the heat off of her. As I'm waiting to finish my Novhen replay and current da2 playthrough before starting her, idk exactly how she fights, but she's for sure a rogue and sticks to the fringes of the battle

Pavle, in a standard fight, is probably the most immediately dangerous of the three. Blood magic will do that to a guy. But without his magic, he is by far the weakest. He becomes just a guy. At least Novhen and Helga have muscles

🍼 Taking Care of Children

Novhen loves kids, and they love him. He's very family-oriented and has spent a lot of time minding the younger children of the alienage, and it really shines through whenever he's left with a little one. There's probably been at least one case of a visiting child at Vigil's Keep being seperated from their entourage that he would've successfully calmed and reunited. The kid probably even learned a new folk tale out of the experience

Tying in to the next segment, naturally, he's absolutely devastated when first being a Warden leaves him unable to build his family in Denerim then later when Morrigan does not let him take part in the raising of the only child he will ever have

Taking care of children was definitely a skill Helga had to work to develop, but she ended up pretty good at it after the scariest possible trial and error experiment. She's at least better at it than her piece of shit baby daddy, and the Carta makes for interesting childrearing shenanigans

I don't think Pavle has ever interacted with a child under 5. Even then, he prefers to leave them to someone else to watch. He's absolutely terrible with children and worse with babies. They're gross and loud and unable to take care of themselves. Don't make him babysit ever

🍀 Luck

I've already answered this question for Helga [here] plus my fake deep pontification on Luck being an option on this list at all

In terms of luck as a matter of preparation, Novhen's incredibly lucky. In terms of luck as a narrative tool, this guy gets a hard lot. The first three hours of the game is just L after L

Afyer that, the rest of the game mostly goes with him turning luck in his favor with general success. Most of the "unlucky" things that happen to him (mostly losing Alistair for Loghain) he acknowledges as appropriate consequences for his actions

Lady Luck comes back around to kick him hard for his two big finales though. He takes a heavy beating at the Battle of Denerim which permanently disables him. Then, even when he finds Morrigan, when he asks to accompany her and their child or (preferably) for her to stay with him, she declines him

Also, just being a Grey Warden in and if itself could widely be considered greatly unlucky

Pavle is surprisingly good at evading the consequences for his actions, so he gets off relatively lucky for a mage and an Amell. A Warden's life may be short, but it's still a better life than what he was offered in the Circle. Hell, in my canon, he's not even a Warden; he's a companion! The best life would've been if he could've inherited the Amell fortune, but you can't win them all

⌛️ Time Management

As long as you don't look too closely at his sleep schedule, Novhen has pretty good time management. He gets his work done as quickly as possible and waits to ship it off so that it arrives just when it needs to. If he gets in the habit of sending reports the moment he finishes, people might start to expect early, and we can't have that

Pavle is the type of guy to tell people an overestimate of how long he'll be and still goes over

Like Pavle, Helga overestimates the time she'll need, but unlike him, she doesn't need to. She doesn't like to leave room for error and is frighteningly efficient with her time

[Skillset Asks]

[earl-grey-love]

Sunny~ 💕 I'm here to loiter around in your askbox for a bit 💫

So, how are you? Did anything cool happen lately? Any new interests you want to talk about? and who's that rs crush hmm? pls share if you want to :3

Heyy, Ky! You're welcome to loiter in my askbox as much as you like. Help yourself to the biscuits!

I'm doing pretty good! I had tons of college work to do but I'm getting on with it now, so I'm back to my cheerful self again. Thank you for asking!

I've actually be up to a lot, so I'll do a quick list for convenience;

I watched season 2 of Bridgerton and both seasons of Russian Doll. I enjoyed them both! I liked the complicated emotions and protagonist of Russian Doll. I wish I could say I liked the couple in Bridgerton but I wasn't all that invested. Likely cus I don't really like the man involved in it. The new family introduced are great though!

I've played an obscene amount of Stardew. Like over 70 hours in two weeks... my responsibilities suffered for this. Worth it ;) I have strong bestie feelings for Alex, and ofc love for Harvey which I've had since 2019.

I'm setting up a new playthrough of Skyrim with my partner. This also involves renewing/revising my Skyrim OC's ship with Cole... their dynamic is one of my favourite I'vr done with AUs of his ship. Mostly cus my OC is incredibly feral and this makes their ship very strange.

I played a bit of RuneScape too. A long, long quest which covered so much crazy new historical lore. Including flashbacks to the early days of the universe. It was bonkers. The ending was really hard hitting as well. I'm anxious to learn more when I find the time!

Alongside this, me and my partner decided our two RS OCs are going to finally get married after 20 years of knowing each other. They've had their ups and downs. I should really talk about my OC for the game sometime.

So, that's what I've been up to! Its... a lot. I've also been spending more time with my friends. I'm a bit of a loner so I'm putting in effort to break this habit. Its going well so far!!

Um... I really wanna talk about my crush. This is a long answer already I know but I have feelings about him. And you did ask! So yeah ;)

His name is Tzkal-Zuk. This is what he looks like;

Which um hellooo 🥵

Yeah he's imposing and basically a giant, but he was once a human man. A really, really long time ago. Like several thousand years if not more kinda long time ago. He's basically ancient. He was in one of the early human tribes on the planet (most sentient life forms on Gielinor are technically aliens as they were brought there from other planets many ages ago). He was a tribal chieftain.

That was until The Zarosian Empire invaded and enslaved his people. He was thrown into the fight pits as a gladiator, and boy did he demolish everyone. He fought his way so far up the ranks he was eventually challenged by Torva himself (a famous warrior even 4 ages later)... and Zuk won. Torva then used his political influence to free Zuk from slavery, but Zuk wasn't done fight. He kept going, fighting his way across the land until he reached the Elder Kiln.

Blah blah blah theres basically super powerful hard to fight sentient obsidian creatures here who can be reforged endlessly. Zuk fought through waves and waves of them for days on end until he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. These creatures then accepted Zuk as their own, and he was reforged into the half-human, half-obsidian form he holds today. Also he basically ascended to demi-godhood at this point too. Hence the immortality and inhuman strength.

Time passes and then another major historical event happened - The God Wars. Zuk basically came out his volcano and just joined the fighting... for fun... and that was a serious problem. Long story short, Zuk fought THE GOD OF WAR 1v1 and NEARLY WON. By sheer luck the GoW managed to harm Zuk enough that he had to reforge. In order to keep Zuk out of the way, the GoW damaged the forge so Zuk could not fix himself. This left him unable to fight.

There's also some other stuff where one of the Gods who created the Universe tried to get Zuk to do their dirty work, and he basically just said No and didn't do it. Incredible. All of this is literally ancient history though, but Zuk is very much alive present day. He is currently the strongest boss in the game right now. I haven't fought him myself but I watched my partner do it, and the way Zuk acts *wipes brow* his voice *fans myself* I mean hes so strong... *faints*

......... Anyway, tl;dr this insanely strong giant monster looking guy who has lived only to fight for thousands of years is incredibly hot (pun intended) and I'd very much like to ask him on a date. That's my crush.

If I could draw I would draw my 5"4 40 year old OC cupping her hands over her mouth as a megaphone and yelling "WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO ON A DATE WITH ME?!" up at Zuk while he sits on his throne.

Thank you so much for asking 💖 and for reading. This was so fun to answer. It got a little long but I hope you enjoyed it! 💕✨

[x-heartofthecards-x]

@numberoneduelist

Seto isn’t normally one for small talk. In fact, most of the time he hates it. He prefers getting straight to the point; doesn’t want to waste valuable time that he could be using on something more important. Seems like this is mostly due to the fact that he’s not interested in his conversational partners, because tonight he doesn’t find it tedious in the slightest.

Though their topics drift from one thing to the next, latched on to by one man or the other with an anecdote or related opinion, he isn’t annoyed by the lack of focus. Eventually, they come to the topic of games - of course - and that Yugi had been interested in developing them. This intrigues the executive; he’d known the man had a sharp mind and a drive beyond that of most. He’s got what it takes to make it in the industry, if that’s what he wants.

This notion is solidified when Yugi shows him a crude mockup of one that he’s been working on. He talks so quickly that the executive almost has trouble keeping up, though he does manage. The whole thing brings a soft smile to his face, one that he doesn’t even realize he’s wearing.

His interest is definitely piqued.

“The gameplay is familiar enough that it would be an easy learning process,” he says, “But it’s also intricate enough to keep people invested. And changing the board from two-dimensional to three is a great way to make it more dynamic… It would pair well with KaibaCorp’s holographic technology. You’d be able to see the full map without it being obscured by a stand.”

He hums, mulling over the possibilities. As his companion straightens, he leans forward, getting a better look at the crayon drawing in front of him. Yes, this could be pretty good.

“Don’t sell yourself short; strategy games are still pretty popular, and most of the ones on the market right now aren’t half as inventive.” Seto’s index finger meets the table a couple of times before he reaches over to take a sip of now-cooled coffee - only to realize that it’s gone. Huh. He hadn’t realized they’d been conversing for so long. “I would be… willing to invest in this, if it’s something you want to move forward with. We’d be able to start on a prototype as early as a week from now, maybe two if production is backed up.”

Yugi had anticipated that the man who had made his fortune with games and was now the leading name in the industry would have scoffed at his concept at best. Perhaps giving him that glazed over look that his mother would give him when she used to be around when he was young and would just be waiting for him to get to the point of whatever thing he was excited about so that she could stop listening, giving a pat on the head and a, 'That's nice, Yugi,' before sending him off to his room alone.

But Seto is engaged. Intrigued, even.

He felt his stomach drop as the man across from him began scrutinizing the drawing and murmuring about the idea. He was surprised to find how much he cared what Seto thought. How much it actually mattered to him. His hands found their way down to nervously fiddle with the puzzle around his neck, the cool metal incredibly comforting as he fought off the nervous butterflies in his chest.

Then his companion looked at him and for a few moments, Yugi could not process what he had said. His mouth went dry as his brain caught up with him. He swallowed thickly to work past a knot that had suddenly formed in his throat.

He had already actually cried once today when he learned of the donation, he had come close again after their duel, and once again he found himself just barely able to save face. He never in a thousand years would have imagined that a genuine heartfelt connection and a barrage of overwhelming kindness from Seto fucking Kaiba would even happen, let alone have him sniveling thrice in one day.

His voice was soft and vulnerable as he looked up to Kaiba and asked, "You would really want to make my game, Seto?"

[plus-size-reader]

Leverage

Magnus Bane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2107 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Magnus taking a special interest in you, Clary's human best friend who resembles a lover Magnus had centuries ago

Just a concept I was tossing around. Let me know what you think and If I should work on a mini-series based on this

—————————————————————————————————

“Just stay close and don’t say anything” Jace reminded, leading you and the rest of your party into Hardtail, his eyes focused on the surrounding crowd, constantly scanning for danger.

This whole thing should be easy.

All they had to do was find Magnus and get him to give Clary her memories back. All things considered, it should have been an in and out mission, something they had done a million times before.

...but they could never be too careful.

Especially considering that they had been forced to bring along some dead weight, in the form of you, as extra insurance.

Just in case the Warlock in question tried anything.

“This is a terrible idea” Alec grumbled, the words falling on mostly deaf ears, though by this point, even Clary was wondering if bringing you along had been the right call.

You were insistent, as soon as you found out that you could be of help but you weren’t blind. You knew that you were in over your head, heading into a downworlder bar with a couple of shadowhunters without any real idea what you were doing there.

Under any other circumstances, you would have turned tail and ran in the other direction, but this was for Clary.

If this ‘High Warlock of Brooklyn’ could give Clary her memories back, and help her figure out what their next step was, you were going to do anything you could to make that happen.

“We don’t even know if this will work-” he continued, earning an elbow to the side from Izzy, who knew exactly where he was going with that.

She knew what they should have already figured out, that once you found out why you were here, you were going to freak out for sure. After all, it wasn’t everyday that you found out that you bore a striking resemblance to someone else, long dead.

It wasn’t something you would be prepared to hear, so it would just be better if you could all get through this without you figuring out what you were actually doing here.

You took notice of the strange exchange between the Lightwoods but decided to ignore it.

The two of them were known to bicker, even to someone who had known them for a few short weeks, and you had more important matters at hand.

Like making sure you didn’t accidentally bump into a vampire or something as you made your way into the club.

“Keep your head down, and don’t go too far” Clary whispered, webbing her fingers with your own as you passed through the crowd, your grib unintentionally tightening as the reality of the situation set in.

Clary was built for this, it was in her blood, but you weren’t.

It wasn’t until you showed up to things like this that you realized just how far out of your depth that you were.

“I’m not going anywhere, trust me” you whispered back, focusing more on putting one foot in front of the other more than anything. Before now, you were sure that the correct answer to the question Jace asked you was yes.

Now that you were here though, you weren't so convinced.

You understood that getting Magnus to meet with you was a long shot in the first place, and you couldn't afford to mess it up, but you just weren’t sure why they needed you. Out of everyone here, you were the most out of place.

Anyone looking in on the scene in front of them would have seen just how much you didn’t belong. Not that anyone around you was all that concerned with you so far, all too focused on the music and lights.

As long as you did as you were told and kept your head down, everything would be fine.

All things considered, your job was easy.

You just had to stay out of the way, and hope that Jace and Alec didn’t need you for whatever it was they thought you could be useful for. Which could have been anything and you wouldn’t have known any better.

The Shadowhunters were so secretive, only telling you what they thought you needed to know, and even then, they always tended to leave out the important stuff.

It made working with them very difficult.

Still, you did what you were told and kept your head down, doing your best to blend in until something changed, which didn’t look like it was going to happen at first.

All in all, it looked to be a pretty standard conversation, though you couldn’t hear any of what they were saying from the distance you were at.

Of course, It wasn't until someone shot an arrow into some guy in the background that you realized just how wrong you were. Evidently, there had been an assassin in the crowd the entire time and no one noticed until Alec put him down.

Which, in turn, spooked the reclusive Warlock into nearly diving back into his wormhole.

He got his jewel, but from the looks on Jace and Clary’s faces, they didn’t get nearly as much as they were hoping for. The only thing that kept Magnus in place was the redhead’s grasp on his wrist, which likely wouldn’t be enough to hold him.

Clearly, they needed something else, which was exactly why they brought you.

You had inadvertently become the most important part of this mission just now, and that meant it was your time to shine, even if you didn’t exactly know what your part to play was.

Without missing a beat, Izzy shot over to whisper something in your ear, something that really didn’t seem like it would work. Though, by this point, you weren’t sure that you had any right to question any of the shadowhunters.

After all, you didn’t even know they existed until a couple weeks ago.

You shot Izzy one more questioning glance, just to make sure she was serious about this before she nodded, telling you to continue with the plan. If anything was going to get Magnus to stick around, it was this.

“Magnus, wait!” you called, doing your best to cut through all the noise that Alec’s arrow and subsequent murder had brought on, which worked surprisingly well.

As it would turn out, just because the Shadowhunters had neglected to tell you that you looked like the long lost love of his life didn’t mean that Magnus was going to. Even the sound of your voice was enough to ring alarms in his head.

He hadn’t heard that sound in so long.

Almost immediately, the Warlock spun around on his heels, his attention finding you immediately. It didn’t make sense, and there was no way that he could have explained it but there was no denying the truth.

Not when it was staring him right in the face.

It was you, and it didn’t matter how it had happened, not now. All he cared about in this moment was that you had come back to him, after all these years. . It was incredible, but even with as thrilled as Magnus was, staying here wasn’t safe. If Valentine managed to find him here, that meant that he likely already knew where the others were.

Every second he spent away was another second evil had to prevail.

Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t exactly trust the shadowhunters to tell him the truth. For all he knew, Magnus could have been looking at some glamour of sorts, and they were tricking him.

He was just having a hard time believing what he was looking at. After all this time, it didn't seem right to see you again.

“You always did like places like this” he hummed, that same far away look clouding his vision as had been this entire time.

No one had ever looked at you like that.

He was looking at you like the whole building could come crumbling down around you and it wouldn’t have mattered one bit. Like you had physically put the sun in the sky, and you barely knew who he was.

“I’ll be in touch”

...and with that, he was gone.

Though, the thought of walking away from you a second time was nearly enough to break his heart, he didn’t have a choice.

There would be no opportunity to talk to you if he was dead, besides, if they wanted to get Clary’s memories back, they were going to need his help.

~

“Who was he talking about? Who does Magnus Bane think I am?” you started, already asking all the questions that they should have seen coming but no one bothered to answer them.

They weren’t even sure they were going to need you when they asked you to tag along, and just because you had helped them out a little back there didn’t mean the Shadowhunters owed you anything.

You were still just some mundane.

The only reason you were still here was because of Clary, that and they needed you once Alec realized that they were going to have to meet up with Magnus in the first place.

Someone had to get him to agree to help.

“Don’t worry about it. All that matters is that he agreed to help us” Jace shrugged, ignoring you, which by this point was par for the course.

You were so tired of everyone acting like you weren’t here. .

“Come on. I did you a favor back there, can’t you at least tell me what I did?” you sighed, turning your attention to Izzy and Clary instead, because you already knew the males in your party couldn’t care less about what you’d done.

To them, you might as well not be here and you had come to terms with that. You just wanted to know who he thought you were, that was it.

In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t even that big of a deal.

“The last partner Magnus had, she looked a lot like you” she allowed, recalling the photograph she’d seen, which might as well have been you a couple hundred years earlier.

You couldn’t believe it.

All this time, you were masquerading as someone else, someone that you didn’t even know existed, and everyone else knew all along.

It was ridiculous.

Though, before you could inform the surrounding Shadowhunters of just how ridiculous, Jace chimed in just enough to let you know that, even still, it wasn’t really your place to ask questions or have opinions.

“We were hoping to catch him off guard, we needed the upperhand” Jace shrugged, truly not seeing how wrong this whole thing was. Not only did they use you without bothering to tell you what was going on, but they exploited him too.

It wasn’t right.

“You should have told me!” you scoffed, thinking that at the very least someone would have had the decency to fill you in on the plan but it would appear that no one thought about that before now.

Jace didn’t even look all that interested in having this conversation at all.

“I would have helped even if you told me beforehand, you know? It would have just been nice to know what I was walking into” you continued, well aware that you were basically talking to yourself but not caring enough to stop.

You couldn’t be both the mundane they didn’t even care enough to address by name and a member of the team that they used when they needed help.

You could be one or the other, but not both, and certainly not at once.

“Well, now you know. Congratulations! Can we get going now?” Alec called, several paces ahead of all of you by now, and not stopping even still. He didn’t care at all about whatever little moral dilemma you were having.

He was much more interested in getting back to the institute before another assassin got the better of one of you.

“Thanks Alec, I appreciate that” you countered, not bothering to cover up the sarcasm flowing from your lips. If he could talk to you like that, there was no reason you couldn’t give it right back.

The truth was that it didn’t matter what they said or how much they pretended this wasn’t a big deal. What had happened back there with Magnus was a big deal, at least, it was a big deal for you.

After all, you just found out that you looked like some dead chick that was hooking up with one of the most powerful warlock’s of all time.

How was that not supposed to be a big deal?