#i was expecting something alright from them

[fraugwinska]

Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Wee' bit of haggis in Sc0tLaNd

here we are with the request of readers' time in scotland, hope it lives up to expectations.

thank you massively to @alotofpockets as always for helping me come up with the ideas needed for chaos fc.

pairings: vivianne miedema x reader, kaylan marckese x reader

summary: readers joins viv, kaylan and myle in scotland during the international break, and of course shes' her usual self.

"Are we there yet?" Your not much of a fan of the journey, so to find out of the plan for a road trip, you weren't exactly thrilled.

"No," Viv replies bluntly from where shes' sat in the drivers seat of the camper van she'd hired for the trip.

Your literally hanging upside down of the sofa in the van even if that's not remotely safe to do, "How much longer? I'm so bored!" You can't help but complain regardless.

"Well, its' a road trip so considering the fact that we're on the road not there yet, it will be a while." Kaylan remarks, chuckling at you in amusement.

"Y/N, I've already told you before to sit up and put your seatbelt on. I'm driving and that's not safe at all!" Viv lightly scolds, catching you in the rear-view mirror of the van.

You huff and begrudingly do as your told, sitting up and buckling yourself into a seat, "Yeah, but how much longer is a while?" You question.

"How longs' a piece of string?" Kaylan chips in.

"I... I don't know-- Are we there yet?" You question for the tenth time in the past hour.

"For the love of god, Y/N," Viv exclaims, slamming her hands on the steering wheel, "We'll get there when we do, just be patient!" She states.

The Dutch womens' shouting is enough to shut you up.

Well, at least for like 5 minutes.

"Yeah, but like, when will that be?" You murmer, wearily glancing between the two older girls.

"Y/N!" Viv shouts aloud.

You hold your hands up in mock surrender, "Alright, alright. Sheesh-- You ask one little question and you get it in the neck." You mumble, innocently smiling at both Viv and Kaylan when they look at you in disbelief.

"Y/N, don't touch that," You hear Viv scold you for what felt like the hundreth time when she caught you going to press a mysterious button in the van.

It's not your fault that you're bored though, is it?

"Why not? It looks fun to press!" You protest; If someone tells you to do something then you're going to want to do it more, right?

Obviously.

"Because I said so," Viv states as you move to reach out and touch it again, "Don't touch it, Y/N!"

"What'd happen if I do?" You really were intreguied to find out what would happen if you press the button like you so desperately want to do.

"Nothing because you're going to touch it!" The Dutch women ultimately ruins your fun.

What an absolute party pooper.

"But Vivi, thats' borin'!" You can't help but whine in protest, being stuck in a moving vehicle isn't all that fun at all, "I only want to see what happens!"

"No, don't!" Viv leans forward and swats your hand away from being inches away from pressing it, "How an earth did I end up with you joining us on this trip?" She grumbles under her breath.

"Well that's simple, Vivi cos' Leah doesn't trust me to stay home alone and Kimmy refuses to deal with me, so ta-da, you're stuck with me!" You exclaim, waving your hands in a jazz like gesutre, "We're going to have a blast!"

"Fabulous," Viv mutters, trying to keep her eyes' focused on the road ahead.

You shrug your shoulders and smirk, "Blame them, not me! I don't see why I couldn't just stay home, I had so many things to do--" Your completely distracted by spotting the sheep out of the window and literally moving to press your face up against the glass, "Oh, oh, look, there's sheep! I can see them... I want to pet them!" You exclaim in complete awe of them.

You like sheep, you were a big fan of them. Nobody judge, okay?

"Uh, is she... Is she normal?" Kaylan glances at Viv, skeptically.

Viv snorts in response, "That depends what you mean by normal. I don't think shes' been tested for insanity." She remarks.

You whip your head around to look at the two older girls, "I'm not crazy, its' not proven but I'm not... I'm just havin' fun!" Your quick to defend.

You weren't crazy, sometimes the thoughts inside your head were just a bit wild though but that's what makes things better, nobody likes people who are boring!

"Oh yeah, tryng to give us both a nervous breakdown, heh. That's not exactly my idea of fun," Viv states, shaking her head.

You huff and go back to staring out the window at the sheep, "When we get out, can we please go and pet the sheep, please Vivi?" You all but beg her; They look so fluffy, you want to go and pet them so badly.

Kim wouldn't let you pet the dogs at the airport, you got the pet all the animals in Melbourne at the zoo, but you still want to pet sheep.

That'd be cool!

"No, Y/N," Viv disagrees, spoiling your fun.

Damn it.

"I'll be super careful though!" You continue to whine, wanting to get your way with things, "They don't even bite!"

Viv shakes her head in disagreement, "Yes they do and no you're not petting them," She still wasn't going to change her mind on this one, "I don't want to be the one to explain to Leah what happened when I drop you back off to her."

"Booooo!" You grumble in protest, sulking and crossing your arms, "This trips meant to be fun." You murmer, still not liking the fact of being told no.

Even though you were always told it, you thought you would get away with it this time around.

Apparently not.

"No, this trip is meant to be peaceful-- Y/N, don't touch that!" Viv exclaims, quickly moving to swat your hand away again before you attempt to touch the mysterious button once again. "I swear I'm babysittin' a literal child." She mutters.

"This weeks going to be a lot, isn't it?" Kaylan questions.

Viv exhales a sigh in response, "I can already feel the impending headache." She states.

"Look! Look! Fluffy cows!" You gasp in excitement, gesturing over to the field where you can see seem, "Moo! Do you think they can understand me?" You wonder, curiously.

You also have the need to pet them, so thats' exactly where you're heading off to now.

"Insanity... Not proven," Kaylan snorts in amusement, "Oh, there she goes!" She jokes, watching you rush in the direction of a gate to get near to the cows.

Viv exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "Y/N, come back 'ere!" She shouts, not in the mood to chase after you.

"I'm goin' to pet the fluffy cows!" You exclaim, getting to the metal gate and attempting to climb on it; You don't see the big deal about that.

"Y/N!" Viv continues to shout, grumbling under her breath before she hands Myle off to Kaylan, "I'd better go get her before she hurts herself."

"They weren't kidding when they said she bolts' at any chance she gets," Kaylan adds in, trying to stifle her laughter while she watches Viv try and catch up to you, while she trails behind.

"Y/N, get down before you hurt yourself!" Vivs' panicking that you're going to slip and break your leg, meanwhile you're non the wiser while you just try and get closer to the fluffy cows.

You rest on of your hands on the gate while you turn to look at the frantic Dutch, "Why? C'mon Vivi, its' not even that high. I'm fine!" You insist.

"Shes' definitely going to get hurt," Kaylan chimes in, catching up with the both of you finally.

Viv pinches the bridge of her nose, "Give me strength." She mutters to herself.

"Hey, guys! Look, this is so cool! I... I'm so close to this fluffy cow-- Do you have a name? I feel like you need a name," You start yapping on directly to the animal in front of you as you lean forward to try and stick your hand out, "C'mere cow who doesn't have a name!" You try to get there attention.

"Shes' literally talking to a cow," Kaylan mumbles, dumbfound.

"Y/N, that's enough. Get down before you hurt yourself!" Vivs' on high alert in case you fall.

All you want to do is pet the fluffy cow, who you're deciding on calling Derek.

Yeah, he definitely looks like a Derek.

"It's fine, it's not that deep," You can't help but roll your eyes in protest before you try and reach more towards the animal, "C'mere, Derek! C'mere!"

"Who the hell is Derek?" Kaylan questions, confused.

"The fluffy cow, duh!" You exclaim, gesturing to the cow in the field.

"Get down, Y/N!" Viv repeats.

"It's fine, its' not that deep," You mumble in repsonse.

You were so close to reaching the cow until you weren't; Slipping on the gate due to the wetness of it previously raining, means you fall back and land right smack in the middle of a puddle, which smells partically foul.

Cow poop.

"Arghhh!" You scream in absolute horror at what's happened, "EW! EW! EWWWW!"

"It was only a matter of time," Kaylan remarks before she cracks up laughing.

"Ew! Ew!" You immediately whine in digsust, "Vivi, help me up. Help me up!" You plead, trying to hold your hands out for her to pull you up out of the cow muck.

Viv can't help but snicker in amusement, "I feel like this is considered karma now, Y/N." She states.

"Its' not funny, this is gross!" You continue to whine about it, "Help me up, please!" You all but plead.

"Sure, but let me just get a photo for Kim first," The Dutch agrees, sliding her phone out of her pocket, "Say cheese, Y/N!"

Kaylan also takes an opportunity to snap a photo, "This is hilarious-- This could only happen to you, Y/N." She teases you.

"Definitely one for the groupchat," Viv chimes in, grinning at the photo.

You kindly give them both the finger while being stuck in the mud, "Somebody help me up-- This is gross!" You complain, finding the situation to be absolutely horrifying.

"Hi, I wanted to call in and check in," Beths' face pops up on the screen when Viv answers, "See how you're doin'?" She wonders.

"Well, we got to Scotland, finally," Viv breathes a sigh of relief, "The drive was tedious to say the least." She admits.

Beth chuckles slightly, "And hows' Y/N doing?"

"Y/N is well, Y/N," Viv remarks.

"Is she behaving herself?" The blonde questions.

"Don't even get me started," The brunette mutters, shaking her head, "I'm wondering how Kim coped with her for as long as she did!" She states, throwing her hands up in the air.

Beth winces slightly, "Sounds like its' been rough then."

"Y/N has already tried to torment the sheep, and the cows as well," Viv explains to her girlfriend, "I do however have a great photo to send into the groupchat of when she fell in the cow much."

"Really?" Beth breaks out into laughter, "I can't wait to see that!" She exclaims.

Viv chuckles slightly, "I'll make sure to send it over in a bit. I'm definitely gonna need another holiday after this." She admits, rubbing her temples.

"It's a good job we have Greece lined up after this then," Beth chips in.

"Oooh! Greece? I want to go to Greece?" You can't help but overhear the conversation between the two of them, "Hi Beffy!" You pop your head in the view of Vivs' phone.

"No, that's definitely not happening!" Viv states, firmly.

"Hi, Y/N. I hope you're not giving Viv and Kaylan too much grief?" Beth chuckles, waving at you.

"Oh, please. I've been on my best behaviour!" You flash the blonde an innocent smile, "So, can I come to Greece with you both? Pretty please!" You plead.

"No!" Viv exclaims in protest.

"Well it sounds like you've got your hands full there. I'll let you go and I'll pass it along to Leah that her kids' still alive," Beth jokes, sensing Vivs' frustration having to deal with you, "Not long now, just remember that." She adds.

"Counting the days as we speak," Viv grumbles, followed by a quick end to the conversation and getting back to dealing with you and your chaos.

"Y/N, are you coming to eat?" Kaylan calls out to you to get your attention from whatever TikTok you're watching while hanging upside down on the sofa in the camper van.

"Ew, no thanks," Straight away, you scrunch your nose up in disgust at the slight of whatever is on both of their plates, "I'm not eatin' that, cos' it looks horribleeeeee!" You tell them, emphasising the word to get your point across.

"Its' haggis, you haven't ever tried it," Viv looks over to you and shakes her head, "Come and at least try it before you turn your nose up at it." She adds.

"I don't need to try nor do I want too when I can see it and it looks awful!" You exclaim, still scrunching your face up absolutely ditest.

"You don't know what you're missin' here, Y/N," Kaylan chimes in.

"Oh, I definitely do. Keep that stuff away from me! That be lookin' a little nasty!" Your not sure what accent you're trying to pull off, but your damn sure you aren't trying that at all.

"Your going to get headache if you continue to sit like that," Viv mentions to the way you're sitting upside down, "And you need to eat still." She adds.

You shuffle round so your sat up on the sofa properly once the blood starts to rush to your head, "I'll eat, just not that. Where can I get a pizza round 'ere?" You wonder.

"Its' reallly not that bad Y/N," Kaylan chuckles, thinking your making a huge deal out of nothing.

"Nope, ah, ah, definitely not!" You state adamantly, shaking your head quickly, "I'll stick with what I like, thanks."

"Leahs' fussy food habits are rubbing off on you," Kaylan chuckles, poking fun at the blondes' choice of food.

"I'm all for adventurous food, but just not... that," You wrinkle your nose up in disgust at the sight of it, "You won't ever get me to try it."

"You can't judge it until you try it, Y/N." Viv states, shaking her head, "Why don't you trust a bit of mine?" She offers.

"Nope, uh uh. No way!" You reluctant to agree, bolting up from your spot on the sofa, "I'm off to go get pizza. C'mon Myle, walkies!" You call over to the snoozin' pup sat in her bed near where Viv is sat, while you move to shove your Nike Air Forces on.

"Wait, Y/N. You don't know where you're going round here," The Dutch states, dumbfound.

"I'm sure I'll be able to find my way round here," You shrug your shoulders carelessly and pick up Myles' leash, "C'mon girl, lets' go and explore!"

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Viv frowns, shaking her head.

"That sounds like a bad idea," Kaylan remarks.

"C'mon, what's the worst that can happen?" You don't see the big deal, you're eager to explore Scotland without supervision and you really do want pizza right now.

"I-- Fine, okay but keep your phone on you and let me know how long you're gonna be!" Viv shouts in response, feeling like one of them overprotective parents; At least with you, she could hand you back after this week.

"And don't fall in anymore cow muck," Kaylan chips in, laughing at your own expense.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, it'll be fine-- Byeeee!" You wave her off before you head out the door with Myle by your side on the hunt for pizza.

"It's so peaceful round here," You think aloud, glancing down to the small pup whos' obediently stuck beside you the whole time, "We should probably head back, huh girl?"

Who are you kidding, are you really expecting her to answer you back?

The walk to find pizza ended up with you both finding the beach, just sitting there and listening to waves, its' a great tranquility to be around.

"I'd love to be able to speak to animals," You speak your thoughts aloud, sliding your phone out of your pocket to be bombarded by several notifications.

Oops?

You guess you must've been out longer than you thought given the several missed calls and frantic texts, but it's not your fault that your phone was on silent though.

"Y/N, where the hell are you?" You wince and pull your phone away from your ear as you immediately hear Viv yell down the phone, "You've been gone for over 2 hours-- Why haven't you been answering any of our texts or calls!?"

"Whoa, chill out, Vivi. I got distracted..." You admit bashfully, trying to make a joke out of it, "We'll head back now-- We're at the beach!"

"The beach!? That's over an hour away! How far did you walk!?" Viv exclaims in disbelief, "You only went to find pizza! Just hurry back, now!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, sure," You huff in protest, not liking the fact you had to leave the peaceful beach, "We're heading back now." You add, before you end the call.

You didn't see much of the big deal about being gone for so long, its' not like you were lost in the woods or something.

"C'mon girl, we'd better go back. Your mums' loosin' her mind over us being gone," You speak to the pup, who looks at you like she understands every single word you're yapping on about and even barks.

Clipping Myles' leash on her, you start to walk back to the camper van where no doubt you're going to get a wonderful lecture about your disappearance for the several hours.

The beach was definitely worth it though, and the pizza as well.

Walking back, there's a sudden distraction when you feel the faint buzzing of your phone in your pocket, "Ello'?" You answer without even seeing whos' on the other end of the call.

"Finally, you answer!" The familiar voice of the blonde skipper speaks on the other side, "I've been ringing your phone-- Where the hell are you?" She questions.

"I went for a walk," You respond, shrugging your shoulders as you walk back to the camper van, "But Viv knows that already and I've spoke to her." You add in.

"Yeah, she knows you went for a walk, but she also told you to let her know how long you're gonna be!" Leah lectures you just like usual; You swear its' all she ever does, "You didn't do that!"

"Right, well, I got distracted!" You admit, shrugging your shoulders again even though she couldn't see your body actions being on the phone.

"For 2 hours? You've had everyone going out of their minds, Y/F/N!" The blonde still scolds you in a firm tone of voice.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "It's minor, I'm on me way back now anyways."

"Good, right, well hurry back before it gets dark--" You huff and cut the blonde off.

"Did you only phone to lecture me?" You can't help but wonder, since that's all Leah regulary seems to do.

"Yes, and well I also got sent a crackin' photo of you fallin' in the cow muck," Leah snickers on the other side of the phone, "It makes a lovely background photo." She adds.

"Wha-- That's not even funny. It proper stunk!" You whine in complaint.

You still hear Leah laughing on the other end of the phone, "How'd that even happen?" She wonders.

"I wanted to pet Derek," You mumble, letting out a small huff.

"Derek?" Leah repeats, bewildered.

"The fluffy cow," You tell the blonde, continuing to walk in the direction of the camper van, "I slipped on the gate and fell back-- It's not funny, Le!" You whine, hearing her cracking up laughing on the other end of the call.

"Oh, thats' hilarious!" Leah exclaims in amusement, "Only you kid, only you." She states as a matter of fact.

"Seriously? Alright, if you're only gonna tease me then I'm hanging up on yer!" You grumble, more than willing to end the call with the blonde.

"Wait, wait, no. I didn't just phone to tease you!" Leah protests, hoping you hadn't ended the call already, "I wanted to see how you were actually doin' other than causing trouble!"

"Yeah, fine, I got pizza-- Hey! Did you know Beth and Viv are going to Greece? No fair I wanna go!" You whine in protest, that sounds like the perfect holiday destination right now.

Leah hums in agreement, "Oh yeah, I heard about that. I don't think them pair would be able to deal with you." She jokes in a teasing tone.

"I'm not that bad!" You exclaim, earning a few looks from nearby people as you walk past them.

"Really? Cos' it sounds like you've had quite the adventure in Scotland, kid," Leah remarks, you can already tell shes' shaking her head in disappointment right now.

"I'm just havin' fun!" You insist, pouting.

"Course you are," Leah lets' out a small laugh, "Cheer up, grumps. I'm taking you somewhere much better anyways!" She tells you.

"Where?" You wonder, curiously.

"Nashville," The blonde replies.

You let out an excited squeal, "Hell yeah, I'm gonna be in my cowgirl era!" You say, trying to contain your excitement.

Leahs' still laughing on the other side of the phone, "Yeah, I thought you'd be excited about that. You need to stay out of trouble until then though!" She states, firmly, "Or no Nashville."

"Yeehaw! Ya got it, partner!" You put on the accent, grinning from ear to ear, "Nashville baby, lets' go!"

Nashville, here you come!

© scribblesofagoonerr

[sixosix]

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES, AND I WILL HOLD ONTO YOU | LYNEY

notes happy last chapter!! hope u enjoy<33 and tune in for another post in appreciation for the last chapter yeahhh

previous chapter | masterlist

It took two months in Sumeru, three in Liyue, and one month in Snezhnaya to take you down. Childe admitted that you held up longer than he expected—training unrelentingly in an unfamiliar environment would shake anyone’s confidence. But you’d been pushing through with excitement at the prospect of traveling to another region and training to become stronger. The adrenaline is quick to disappear when Rosalie has to go back home, and her absence makes the cold loneliness prominent.

When Childe strikes at you with a sword, your calves burn, and your thighs quiver—that split second costs you the match. Childe calls for you to get up. Fight back. But for some reason, all you can think of is how the ice has melted in your boots in a puddle and how the flowers sprinkled sporadically in the snow are the same ones back at home.

Childe senses it, the sudden drop of mood. He studies whatever expression you’re making and smiles.

“Alright. I think it’s about time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Childe pulls you up and throws your arm over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

You take one heavy step at a time, watching and hating as your feet sink into the soft snow. It’s too cold. “You’re doing so much for me, but I’m too weak to follow through.”

“Nonsense.” He clicks his tongue. “I think of this as one of my duties.”

“But it’s not one of your duties,” you argue weakly. “I’m a burden to your actual duties. My colleagues are already suspicious of this special treatment.”

“They aren’t really your colleagues,” Childe points out. “Just as you aren’t actually working under me. You’re my mentee. There’s a world of difference.”

You sigh, unconvinced. Childe is doing so much to prevent the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa herself from snooping in your business. A part of you thinks the Tsaritsa already knows, but it’s about time she does something about it, right?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Childe remarks. When you turn to him, he’s staring ahead. “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got three Harbingers vouching for you.”

“Three?”

Childe grins. “That boyfriend of yours is about to be one, isn’t he?”

Excitement thrums in each bone of your body as the familiar view of the continent-sized fountain comes to view. You nearly fall over into the ocean from tipping forward.

“Fontaine’s not going anywhere,” Childe yells out from the other side of the Fatui-issued ship.

The wind whips through your hair. The recognizable scent of the sea breeze makes you laugh in delight. Maybe you missed your home more than you realized. 

“I wouldn’t let it, anyway,” you answer back.

Once the ship has reached the dock, you bound over to Childe, who looks over curiously.

“Thank you,” you say, and you really, really mean it. For the past few months, for this and possibly for more in the future.

Childe ruffles your hair. It would’ve made you glare at him on usual days, but you’re bursting with happiness so you let him until he says, “No problem, Y/N. We’re friends now.”

Childe nudges you forward. “Now, go hurry. I’m about one messenger bird away from losing my patience with Lyney.”

Despite that, you meet with Rosalie first.

The sun has barely risen, just peeking from rolling hills. The shop is still closed. But this is your home, so you push the key in, pull the door open, and catch sight of Rosalie fixing the displays on the shelf behind the counter.

“Maman, why are you up so early?”

Rosalie’s head whips around, then her limbs lock up in place. She’d been with you for the first two weeks of Sumeru, admiring their flora, then taking a lot of them home. You see them displayed on the shelves next to your first flower—the ones that are certainly for sale. Rosalie still hasn’t moved, frozen, gaping at you.

“Surprise,” you say, then she boots back to life and runs over to hug you.

“Oh, my darling,” Rosalie says reverently, as if speaking to the gods, thanking them. Her hands are stained with soil dirt and the smell of leaves, but you find that there is nothing else more fitting. You really are home. “Ma bébé! You’re back!”

You pluck a few petals off of her hair. “I am.”

Rosalie pulls back and grins up at you. “You’re home! You’re—” her face twists in realization, “Oh, you’re back. Oh, dear. You just missed Lyney. He came over earlier to help me settle everything before I opened up.”

“Wait, really?”

Rosalie nods, ushering you inside the counter, where the door leads to upstairs to the kitchen. “Yes, yes. Since I returned, Lyney has been coming over to visit and help me with the shop.”

Your heart skips a beat. “He does?”

“Mhm. At first, I assumed it was because he got used to visiting you, but he just does it every day now. ” Rosalie shakes her head fondly, smoothing down your hair. “That boy. I tell him that he should focus when he has shows to practice or prepare for, but he just buries his hands in the dirt as an answer.”

“I see you two have gotten closer while I was away.” The image of Lyney changing pots, getting his hands soiled, while he insists that Rosalie does the watering, makes you unbelievably fond.

“As stubborn as you,” Rosalie chides, smiling. “He knows how to handle them, though. Did you know, Lyney started to send out messenger birds when I told him I was missing you? That boy is more than head over heels, darling.”

“Maman,” you say, embarrassed. “I just came back. Aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

“I don’t need to. Lyney updates me anyway,” Rosalie says. “But I have missed you, so tell your maman about everything, okay?”

“I’ll tell you stories for as long as you want me to, maman.”

Rosalie’s eyes water, but she braves through it as she stares wordlessly at you. She wipes it off, then ruffles your hair. Do you have a sign on your head or something? 

“I’m proud to call you my daughter. I’ll always want you to.”

Freminet is the first out of the siblings to hear from you. It’s not on purpose. You’re on your way to surprise Lyney and Lynette when you hear a soft voice call out after you. Your head snaps side to side, frantically looking for the source, then grin wide when Freminet waves at you feverishly.

“Y/N!” he exclaims breathlessly.

“Freminet!” you yell back, falling towards a hug that he tightly reciprocates. 

“I didn’t know you were back?” He says incredulously, which might just be the most passionate emotion you’ve ever felt from him. He looks torn between disbelief and joy.

“Just this morning. I wanted to surprise all of you.” To gain a sense of satisfaction, you bury your hand in his hair first, knocking his beret aside when you ruffle and mess with his hair. “Your hair’s gotten longer than usual.”

“Yeah. You missed too much,” Freminet mumbles. But he doesn’t look depressed about it. He beams up at you, reminding you of a particularly pleased puppy.  “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I know, I know.”

“But wait.” Freminet’s brows scrunch together. “How long are you allowed to stay here?”

“Two weeks, at most. But I can always come back whenever I want.”

Freminet laughs. “Are you going to max out your two weeks before you talk to Lyney?”

“Shut up.” You elbow his ribs, but Freminet just laughs harder. “I was on my way to your house before I saw you.”

Freminet hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting off to somewhere far. “I don’t think Lyney’s home right now.”

“Really?” You follow his gaze, but see nothing. Only kids running around, throwing cards around and sounding explosions with their mouths. You smile. Were they imitating Lyney? It seems that even if you try to avoid him, you’ll find traces of his footsteps anywhere. “Huh. Where could he be then?”

“Ever since you left, Lyney goes to this one spot a lot,” Freminet says, turning back to you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Ma mère’s shop?”

“No, no. A different one. He says you two sparred there, and he goes there when he misses you. He goes every day.”

Rosalie, then now Freminet… You feel giddy, fondness bursting in your chest at the thought of Lyney missing you as much as you missed him. Not that you’d admit it to him straight up—because then he’d never let it go. But even then, the thought of that has you smiling to yourself like a madman.

Freminet notices it, too. “I’ll tell Lynette you said hi.”

True to his word, you find Lyney in the same spot he asked you to spar with him after years without it. You face his back, but you keep your steps light and measured, moving closer and closer until you see that he’s picking flowers. For his show, maybe?

Lyney looks vulnerable, hunched over a patch of flowers and gently unrooting them from the grass.

You spread your palm and let ice materialize above it in the shape of a heart. It’s smooth and clean after months and months of perfecting it. Then you throw it towards him. You have exceptional aim—you barely miss his ear on purpose. But Lyney straightens up in a snap and catches the heart with a gloved hand.

He looks at the heart in confusion, then rapidly whips around to you.

You grin and wave, unsure of what to say. What do you even greet him with? It’s nice to see you again? I missed you?

You haven’t had much time to think about it as Lyney sprints to you and tackles you down into a hug, blowing the air out of your chest as you both fall on the grass. You laugh as Lyney rubs his head on your neck like those affectionate cats back at Sumeru, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder.

Lyney pulls away, pupils blown wide.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hi,” you whisper in return. Maybe the right thing to say is, “Lyney.”

“You’re back. You—you’re back in Fontaine—you made me a heart!”

“I did,” you say shyly. “I’m home.”

Sumeru had been wonderful; with trees that stretched and went on for forever, dewy grass that tickled your calves, and the heat of the sand that you longed for when you reached Snezhnaya. Liyue had been beautiful; spread with the aroma of spices and the orange glow of their sunset, then the mountains that allowed you to soar from one to another. Snezhnaya had been enchanting; the view of their sky was unmatched, the flowers that were unique to the cold climate were beautiful, their snow sent you a thrill that you knew you couldn’t feel anywhere else, and you were able to refine your Vision in the place where it belonged.

But the warmth that Lyney emanated—that he gave you—was the kind you missed in every place you went to. This is where you belong.

thank you so much for reading. i'll save all the things i want to say in the next post, so please, tune in!

[estellan0vella]

Robbery Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

You sit at the counter of the parlour, sketching random designs in your notebook while chatting with Gojo. Your best friend since high school, Gojo recently joined the shop as a piercer, and his cheerful banter has become a daily highlight.

"Hey, Y/N/N," Gojo says, leaning over to peek at your sketches. "That's some good stuff. Ever thought about doing the tattoos?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Nah, I'm happy just doodling. Leave the ink to the pros."

Gojo grins, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll just have to convince you one day."

Across the room, Sukuna is working on a client's back piece, his concentration intense and unwavering. His presence is commanding, even when he's completely focused on his work. Toji and Geto are busy with their own clients, exchanging jokes and stories as they ink intricate designs.

The door chimes as someone walks in, and you glance up out of habit. A man stands in the doorway, looking out of place and nervous. Your eyes narrow slightly as you take in the sight of the gun he's trying to hide under his jacket.

"Uh, everybody freeze!" he shouts, pulling the gun out and waving it around.

A tense silence falls over the room, but only for a moment. Then, to the man's surprise, laughter erupts from all of you.

"Wow, seriously?" Gojo says, rolling his eyes. "Compensating much?"

Toji smirks, not even pausing in his work. "Yeah, buddy, did you lose a bet or something? That thing's tiny."

"Is that a lighter in your pocket or are you happy to see us?" Sukuna taunts.

The man blinks, clearly not expecting this reaction. His face flushes with embarrassment and frustration, his grip on the gun tightening nervously.

Sukuna leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "I gotta say, if you're here to rob us, you could at least bring something more threatening. That little pea-shooter won't get you far."

Toji chuckles, glancing over at Geto who nods in agreement. "Seriously, man. Did you think we wouldn't notice you sneaking in here with that?"

You, still seated at the counter, can't help but join in. "And here I thought I'd seen everything in this shop. Turns out, we're now a comedy club."

Gojo, with his usual irreverence, adds fuel to the fire. "I mean, look at you. You look like a marshmallow"

"What does that even mean?" You ask with a giggle and Gojo shrugs.

The man’s face contorts with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Shut up!" he yells, waving the gun again. "I'm serious! I'll shoot!"

Toji raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing. "Oh, are we doing threats now? How about this: put that thing away before someone gets hurt. Namely, your ego."

The man looks flustered, his grip on the gun tightening as he points it at you. "Shut up! I'm serious! Give me all your money!"

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your sarcasm. "Sweetheart, I have epilepsy. My brain doesn't work right on the best of days. A gun doesn't scare me. Just don't mess with my face or my tits, alright? They're my best features."

Sukuna leans back, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Can confirm. I'm extremely fond of them"

Geto nods solemnly. "Seriously, those are top-tier assets. We should put them in a museum."

Gojo nods solemnly as you laugh. "We'd have to hold a memorial service for the girls. It'd be tragic."

Toji finally looks up, his expression one of mock seriousness. "The worst crime you'd commit today would be damaging that rack."

Gojo grins wider. "We'd put ourselves in the line of fire to protect those honkers."

Sukuna gestures lazily towards you. "Hey babe," he says with a grin, "don't worry, I'll protect those masterpieces," nodding towards your chest. "Can't have this guy ruining what I get to enjoy every day."

Gojo nods sagely. "He's right, those are national treasures."

Toji nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'd cry real tears if something happened to those."

The man's face turns bright red, his hand shaking as he tries to regain control of the situation. "Shut up! Just give me the money!"

"Is it an innie?" Toji asks, feigning genuine curiosity. "You know, your... equipment?"

The robber's frustration grows as the room continues to be filled with laughter and teasing. He finally lowers the gun, looking completely defeated. "You guys are crazy," he mutters before turning and bolting out the door.

As soon as he's gone, the room erupts into even louder laughter. Sukuna sets down his tattoo machine and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Glad our national treasures are safe," he murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple and you snort.

Gojo is still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was priceless. Best robbery attempt ever."

Geto nods in agreement. "Yeah, we really should thank the guy for the entertainment."

Toji stretches, leaning back in his chair. "Who knew our biggest concern today would be protecting Y/N's tits?"

You grin, feeling the warmth of Sukuna's embrace. "Well, they're glad to still be here."

"We're all glad they're still here," Sukuna says with a grin. 

The next day, you come into the parlour with a new sign you’ve created. It's bright and colourful, with bold letters that read, “No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We'll Laugh In Your Face.” Gojo takes a marker from you and neatly writes 'We will protect the honkers with our own bodies' making you laugh as you hand the sign to Sukuna who takes it from you, chuckling as he hangs it in the window for everyone to see.

Sukuna steps back to admire your work, a proud smile on his face. “Looks great, babe.”

Gojo, standing next to him, nods in approval. “Perfect. Now we just need someone dumb enough to test it.”

Toji and Geto walk in, glancing at the sign and chuckling. “I give it a week,” Toji says.

“Three days, tops,” Geto counters.

You all laugh, knowing that no matter what happens, you’ve got each other’s backs—and that’s more than enough to handle anything life throws at you.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. As you sketch, chat with Gojo, and watch Sukuna work, you feel a deep sense of contentment. Life may be unpredictable, but with this group of misfits, it’s never boring.

The bell above the door jingles, signalling a new customer. You glance up. “Welcome to the madhouse,” you say with a grin. “How can we help you today?”

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Raphael spoils his favourite pet (you). Afab reader, nsft

-

Freshly-bathed, you wandered into your private room in the House of Hope. You wore nothing but an expensive silken bath robe tied loosely at the front. Your skin was still pleasantly damp. You towelled off your hair and sat in front of the big dark oak vanity you'd been given, searching for a comb. You’d already begun pulling it through your wet locks when your magic tingled excitedly, sensing your Patron's presence. 

“Hello, little mouse,” he murmured. 

“Hello, Raphael.” You could see the devil leaning against your door frame from the reflection in the mirror. His infernal orange eyes were fixed on you and the motions of the comb in your hand. His gaze was heated, but you had long learned not to assume what he might want. Acting demure was in your best interest for now. “Was there something you needed?”

“Hmm…there are many things I want, but I can't say there's much that I need.” Raphael pushed himself up and over. His gait was full of purpose. “And I have you to thank for that, don't I? Always so eager to serve. Such a good pup…” He took the comb from your hand. “Allow me.”

“Oh…alright.” 

You experienced a strange thrill with the first stroke of the comb's teeth. This wasn't quite what you expected but you certainly weren't going to complain. Raphael was usually predictable, but not always. Even after knowing him for so long, he was incredibly hard to read. The devil brushed your hair slow and methodical, almost reverent with his care. He took his time to work any knots free. It was so good, so relaxing, that your eyes began to close. The more you relaxed the more you leaned back into your Patron's broad, warm chest. You felt spoiled. You could easily drift off to sleep like that. Raphael had other ideas.

“I have a gift for you,” he declared, his free hand - oh so warm and soft - stroking the flesh between your neck and shoulder. You gasped quietly. Your eyes snapped open. In the mirror you saw Raphael's burning hunger and felt its equal awaken from dormancy in your blood. You weren't sleepy anymore.

“What kind of gift?”

In response he abandoned the comb, producing a gorgeous gold and leather jewel encrusted choker from his pocket. Branded on its front was a silver ‘R’. Through the mirror you watched him fasten it around your neck. It was enchanted; you felt the runes spark and settle with your magic.

“Consider it an accessory of protection,” he purred into your ear. “Insurance for my best asset.”

“Thank you.” You had no doubt it was far more than what he claimed, but you stopped caring right then because Raphael nuzzled your jaw, dropping rough, open mouthed kisses across your neck. His facial hair, perfectly cultivated evening shadow, created an incredible sensation in junction with his plush thin lips; one of the few advantages his human form had over cambion. “Ah…Raphael…”

“Such a diligent, loyal little warlock I have.” His hands slipped inside your robe, making journeys up your tummy. They left goosebumps and searing heat in their wake. “And how good you look wearing my jewels, my symbol…I could just devour you.” He tugged the lobe of your ear with his teeth. You tried not to squeal.

“Raphael…!”

“I do so love the way you say my name.” The devil at last cupped your breasts, kneading both in his hands. His deft fingers reached your nipples and tweaked them, rubbing over them with his thumbs. He circled again and again and again until the fleshy nubs were almost sore with pleasure. You let your head roll back, baring your neck for your master to kiss and bite. Raphael didn't disappoint. He bit and sucked bruises everywhere; under your jaw, along the column of your throat, your shoulders as he peeled your robe down your shoulders to reach them. He liked to do this as a cambion, sink his fangs in deep, sup on your sweet blood and leave you with marks that lasted weeks. His blunt human teeth, still sharper than a normal person's, gave a different kind of pain. Perhaps you'd been more sensitive from the bath, because you felt like you were on fire. “I think you deserve a reward, don't you?”

You could not answer. Raphael's left hand slid back down your sternum. His fingers tangled into your little patch of pubes, resting just above where he knew your swollen clit was, begging for attention. He grazed it with two fingertips, either on purpose or by accident - likely the former. Your hips bucked. 

“Please,” you whispered, “please, Raphael.”

“Please what, little mouse?” The devil cooed.

“Please touch me…”

“Oh, but I am touching you.” He punctuated the statement by tweaking one of your abused nipples again. You whined. “You need to be more specific than that.”

“Touch my clit. Please, master.”

“Good girl,” the devil growled. You couldn't help it, your entire body shuddered at the praise. “Open your robe for me, then.”

With shaking hands you did as you were told. You undid the sash of its knot and pushed the fabric aside, spreading your legs. You sighed at the cool air's caress. Raphael hummed with approval and circled your clit, pushed his fingers between your mons. With expert precision he dipped them into your entrance and gathered your hot slick, enough to make his next rub of your desperate cunt slicker, harder. You groaned, rolling your hips into his touch, his rhythm. Your bare toes curled into the plush carpet with pleasure.

“Oh, fuck…”

“Look at yourself,” Raphael demanded. From the moment he touched you, you'd been avoiding the mirror. “Look at how debauched you are. Look at how you're falling apart in my hands. Look.”

You could not deny him. You saw yourself, face flushed, half-lidded pupils blown wide, mouth open. You saw your legs spread shamelessly as you jerked your hips with every motion Raphael made. You saw your cunt, soaked and lewdly on display by the devil’s scissored digits, your clit desperately hard and fat with blood being coaxed even further out of its hood by the skill of Raphael's tawny, clever fingers. You saw your hands, one reaching back to grasp at the devil, the other gripping your own thigh, white-knuckled. You saw your heaving chest, one breast still swallowed by the devil's hand. You saw your tousled locks and the blooming marks and bites on your throat. You looked obscene. You looked…good. Behind you, Raphael took in every iota of your image with fierce, possessive desire and dark satisfaction. 

“Yes, that's right,” he snarled, husky and low, “now you see what I see. And all of it is mine.”

“Yes, it's yours,” you choked out, “I'm yours, I'm yours!”

You wouldn't last, watching Raphael touch your cunt like that. Your climax was roaring to the surface with reckless abandon. Your guts were taught and your pussy ached, screaming for release. Raphael pushed the pad of his thumb down hard on your clit, his index and middle fingers rubbing directly on your leaking hole. You felt the tell-tale pulse of infernal magic set your nerves ablaze.

“Watch yourself, little mouse,” he commanded, voice rough, “watch yourself finish for me.”

“Gods…Raphael…!”

Yet again, you did as you were told. You watched your back arch and your expression twist then go slack as your orgasm rippled through you. You watched your cunt spasm, clench, ooze your release all over Raphael's fingers. You watched your hips give a few shallow thrusts as Raphael drew out your orgasm, rubbing until you whimpered for him to stop. You watched yourself relax in the afterglow. You watched the devil watching you; ravenous, terrifying, beautiful. You watched him hold up his hand, showing you your hot cum clinging to his digits. You watched him use that cum to draw a letter on your quivering stomach, smirking as he did so.

‘R’.

[moonselune]

Idea! Romanced Companions reacting to a shapeshifter attempting to seduce tav. Only when they transform to what tav is most attracted to, It's literally just an exact copy of whoever tav romanced

Something possessive jumped out of me when I was writing this so might be slightly different to what was expected hehe

Karlach:

Karlach was engrossed in a lively conversation with Wyll, her laughter ringing through the campfire-lit clearing. Their discussion about battle tactics and recent victories was abruptly interrupted when Karlach noticed a stranger approaching you. Instinctively, her hand moved to the hilt of her axe, her keen eyes narrowing with suspicion as the figure drew closer.

To her astonishment, the stranger transformed right before her eyes, taking on Karlach's own form. Anger flared within her as she watched the audacious shapeshifter assume her likeness in an attempt to seduce you. With a growl of displeasure, Karlach stepped between you and the imposter, towering over them with her imposing presence.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she barked, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. She pointed a finger at the shapeshifter, her stance unyielding.

The shapeshifter stammered, clearly caught off guard by Karlach's fierce reaction. "I-I was just…"

"You were just making a big mistake," Karlach interjected, her tone low and dangerous. "There's only one Karlach, and you're looking at her, in all her glory. Get lost before I make you regret it."

With that, the shapeshifter wisely chose to retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the camp. Karlach turned to you, her expression softening as she approached, her arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders.

"You alright, babe?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "Don't let these idiot cultists get to you."

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for Karlach's fierce loyalty. "I'm fine," you assured her, leaning into her comforting embrace.

She brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "Good," she murmured, her fiery eyes meeting yours. "You're mine, and no one's going to mess with that."

Despite the intensity of the moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Let's get back to Wyll," she suggested, her voice returning to its usual strength. "He's probably lost without my expert advice."

As you walked back together, her arm still securely around you, you couldn't help but marvel at Karlach's protective nature and the depth of her affection. It was moments like these that reminded you just how fortunate you were to have her by your side, fiercely guarding your heart against any who dared to challenge her claim.

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart knelt by the campfire, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tended to her wounds from the day's battle. The air around her was tense with the aftermath of combat, yet she remained focused on her task. Her keen senses alerted her to movement, and she looked up sharply to see a figure approaching – a figure that soon transformed into an exact replica of herself.

Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then narrowed with suspicion and barely restrained fury. Shadowheart stood up swiftly, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her dagger, her grip tightening with resolve.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Shadowheart's form, approached you with a disarming smile. "I know what you truly desire," they whispered, their voice honeyed with deceit as they closed the distance between you.

Shadowheart's voice cut through the air like a blade of ice. "You think you can deceive me?" Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped decisively between you and the impostor, her posture defensive and protective.

The shapeshifter faltered, caught off guard by Shadowheart's unwavering composure. "I-I can be what they want," they stammered, attempting to maintain their facade.

"You are nothing but a cheap imitation," Shadowheart hissed, her dagger gleaming in the firelight as she held it steady, a silent threat. "Begone, before I decide to end you."

Realizing the danger, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Shadowheart's unwavering determination. Once the threat had dissipated into the darkness of the camp, Shadowheart turned to you, her stance relaxing slightly though her guard remained.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. She reached out tentatively, as if uncertain of your reaction, yet her touch conveyed reassurance. "I won't let anyone come between us."

You nodded, grateful for Shadowheart's swift protection and unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you replied, feeling a rush of relief at her comforting presence.

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good," she murmured, her gaze meeting yours with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. "You're safe now."

As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows around you, you couldn't help but admire Shadowheart's strength and resolve. Her fierce protectiveness, combined with her vulnerability in moments like these, made you realize just how deeply she cared. In her own quiet way, she had shown you once again that you were not alone in this journey – that she would always stand by your side, ready to defend you against any threat, real or illusionary.

Astarion:

Astarion reclined near the crackling campfire, idly sharpening a dagger with precise strokes when his keen senses alerted him to an approaching figure. His sharp eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched the stranger draw nearer, then gasped in disbelief as the figure transformed seamlessly into an exact replica of himself, down to the smug curve of his smirk.

The shapeshifter approached you with a confident stride, mirroring Astarion's sultry charm with unsettling accuracy. "Isn’t this what you desire?" they purred, their voice a distorted echo of Astarion's own, as they trailed a finger provocatively down your arm.

Astarion's amusement quickly turned to indignation. He sprang to his feet, dagger flashing in his hand as he closed the distance in an instant. "Flattery will get you nowhere, darling," he drawled, his tone laced with a dangerous sweetness that belied his lethal intent.

The shapeshifter blinked, clearly caught off guard by Astarion's swift reaction. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Astarion interjected smoothly, pressing the dagger's tip against the shapeshifter's throat with a precise and threatening grace. "Leave now, before I make you regret ever coming here."

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Astarion's unwavering determination. Once the threat had evaporated into the shadows of the camp, Astarion turned to you, his expression softening as he approached with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked softly, his usual teasing edge softened by genuine worry. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You chuckled softly, reassured by his protective instincts and touched by his genuine concern. "I'm fine," you assured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand in gratitude for his swift defense.

Astarion smirked, the tension easing from his shoulders as he returned the squeeze. "Good," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes returning. "After all, no one can match up to the original, can they?"

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Though I must admit, seeing someone try to mimic my irresistible charm is quite flattering."

You rolled your eyes fondly, unable to resist teasing him back. "Oh please, you love it when someone tries to be as devilishly handsome as you."

Astarion chuckled, the tension of the moment dissipating into playful banter between the two of you. With his arm now draped casually around your shoulders, you felt a rush of warmth and reassurance. Despite the danger that had briefly intruded upon your camp, you knew you were safe in Astarion's capable – and occasionally teasing – hands.

Gale:

Gale sat cross-legged on a weathered log, deep in thought as he pored over the ancient tome spread out before him. The soft glow of arcane symbols illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced across the campsite. His scholarly reverie was abruptly shattered by the approach of an unfamiliar figure. His sharp intellect registered the anomaly before his eyes widened in disbelief as the figure transformed into an exact replica of himself, down to the intricate patterns of magical tattoos that adorned his skin.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Gale's form, exuded confidence as they strode towards you with a disarming smile. "I can be everything you need," they declared, their voice carrying the cadence of Gale's own scholarly certainty, reaching out as if to draw you closer.

Gale rose to his feet in one fluid motion, arcane energy crackling around his fingertips. His expression hardened with resolve as he stepped decisively between you and the impostor, his stance authoritative and protective. "This ends now," he stated firmly, his voice carrying the weight of command.

The shapeshifter blinked, momentarily taken aback by Gale's sudden assertiveness. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Gale interrupted, his tone unwavering. "There is only one Gale, and you are not him."

With a flick of his wrist, Gale conjured a swirling vortex of arcane power that surged towards the shapeshifter, compelling them to retreat hastily, their illusion shattered. Once the threat had dissipated into the night, Gale turned to you, his features softening with genuine concern.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked tenderly, his scholarly demeanor momentarily replaced by a gentler expression. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."

You nodded, touched by Gale's protective instincts and grateful for his swift defense. "I'm fine," you assured him, stepping closer and reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.

Gale's gaze softened further, his lips curling into a small, relieved smile as he covered your hand with his own. "Good," he murmured, his voice a quiet reassurance. "After all, there's no duplicating true scholarly prowess."

He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back towards where the shapeshifter had fled. "Though I must admit, seeing someone attempt to replicate my intricate tattoos is rather amusing."

You couldn't help but smile back, grateful for Gale's steadfast presence and the depth of his affection. As you stood together amidst the lingering traces of magical energy, you knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, Gale would always be there – both scholar and protector, steadfast in his love for you.

Wyll:

Wyll sat cross-legged near the edge of the camp, his skilled hands methodically polishing the blade of his rapier. The glint of the campfire danced off the silvered steel, casting a flickering light over his focused expression. His senses on high alert, he noticed a figure approaching—a stranger whose form shifted before his eyes into an exact replica of himself, scar over the eye and all.

His grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of his rapier as he stood up, muscles tensing beneath his leather armor. His brows furrowed with suspicion as he took in the audacity of the shapeshifter's deception. "What kind of trickery is this?" Wyll demanded, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night like a blade of ice.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Wyll's form, smiled with an unsettling familiarity, attempting to mimic Wyll's charismatic charm. "I thought you might appreciate a familiar face," they said smoothly, extending a hand towards you in a gesture of false intimacy.

Wyll stepped forward, his posture protective and resolute as he positioned himself firmly between you and the doppelganger. "There is only one Blade of Frontiers," he declared sternly, his gaze unwavering. "And it’s certainly not you."

With a swift, practiced motion, Wyll unsheathed his rapier, the blade catching the firelight as he leveled it at the impostor with unwavering precision. "Leave now," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument, "or face the consequences."

Realizing their ruse was exposed, the shapeshifter hastily retreated into the darkness, their illusion shattered by Wyll's steadfast resolve. Once the threat had dissipated, Wyll turned to you, his demeanor softening as he sheathed his rapier and approached with gentle concern.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked tenderly, his usual confidence softened by genuine worry. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch warm and reassuring.

You nodded gratefully, comforted by Wyll's protective presence and touched by his unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you reassured him, offering a small smile to ease his concern.

Wyll returned the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of relief and affection. "Good," he murmured softly, his hand lingering on yours as he squeezed it gently. "You know I'll always have your back."

As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the crackling of the fire providing a backdrop to your shared moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for Wyll's courage and dedication. His swift defense against the shapeshifter had not only protected you physically but reaffirmed the depth of his love and commitment. In his arms, you knew you were safe and cherished—a feeling that strengthened the bond between you, forged amidst the trials of your journey together.

Lae'zel:

Lae'zel's keen eyes scanned the perimeter of the camp with hawk-like intensity, her warrior's instincts finely attuned to any potential threat. When she spotted the approaching figure, her gaze narrowed with suspicion, and her grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of her sword. Her initial curiosity turned swiftly to ire as the figure transformed before her eyes into an exact replica of herself, mirroring her fierce demeanor and steely resolve.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Lae'zel's form, approached you with bold confidence, their voice echoing Lae'zel's commanding tone. "You know you can't resist me," they purred, their eyes fixed on you with unsettling intensity.

Lae'zel surged forward in an instant, her blade drawn and poised for battle. "You dare to mock me with this charade?" she spat, her voice laced with barely contained fury.

The impostor recoiled, caught off guard by Lae'zel's swift and ferocious response. They attempted to retreat, but Lae'zel pursued relentlessly, slashing at them with calculated precision. "There is only one Lae'zel," she declared fiercely, her strikes relentless and unforgiving. "And you are not worthy to even speak my name."

With a final swipe, the shapeshifter narrowly escaped, fleeing into the darkness with their illusion shattered by Lae'zel's unyielding determination. Once the threat had dissipated, Lae'zel turned to you, her expression softening marginally as she sheathed her sword and approached with a rare display of vulnerability.

"You are mine," she stated firmly, her voice holding a mixture of possessiveness and protectiveness. "Do not forget that."

You nodded, touched by the depth of Lae'zel's loyalty and the fierceness of her defense. Her unwavering commitment to your safety and her intense dedication resonated deeply, forging a bond between you that transcended words. As you stood together amidst the quiet of the camp, the tension of the encounter giving way to a sense of solidarity, you knew that with Lae'zel by your side, no challenge could threaten your connection or your shared journey ahead.

Minthara:

Minthara's keen eyes swept the campsite with a vigilance honed by years of command, her gaze piercing through the shadows to spot the approaching figure long before they neared you. As the shapeshifter transformed into an exact replica of Minthara herself, duplicating her sharp features and the cold disdain in her eyes, Minthara's lip curled in unmistakable contempt.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Minthara's form, approached you with a calculated mimicry of her icy charm. "You know you desire me," they whispered seductively, their voice carrying the chilling allure that Minthara wielded like a weapon.

Minthara stepped forward with swift, purposeful strides, her presence imposing and her expression stone-cold. "You are a poor imitation," she hissed, her hand drifting to the hilt of her weapon. "And I do not tolerate pretenders."

The shapeshifter's facade wavered under the intensity of Minthara's glare, their confidence giving way to uncertainty. "I-I can be whatever they want," they stammered, attempting to salvage the illusion.

"You will never be me," Minthara snarled, her blade drawn now and pressed against the shapeshifter's throat with lethal intent. "Leave," she commanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "and pray I do not hunt you down."

With a final, chilling warning, the shapeshifter fled, their deception exposed and their retreat hastened by the threat of Minthara's wrath. As the tension of the encounter ebbed away, Minthara turned to you, her demeanor softening imperceptibly but significantly.

"You belong to me," she stated quietly, her voice a rare blend of possessiveness and vulnerability. "And no one else."

You nodded, feeling the weight of Minthara's protectiveness and the depth of her commitment. Her fierce defense of your bond left an indelible mark, solidifying the strength of your connection amidst the trials of your journey together. As you stood together in the aftermath, the firelight casting flickering shadows over the camp, you knew that Minthara's unwavering devotion would always be your steadfast anchor in the tumult of your shared adventures.

Halsin:

Halsin knelt by a wounded animal, his hands tender and skilled as he tended to its injuries with the gentle touch of one intimately familiar with the ways of nature. His brow furrowed slightly as he sensed a disturbance, his keen senses detecting the subtle shift in the camp's atmosphere. Rising slowly, his movements deliberate yet fluid, he observed with a mixture of concern and determination as the figure in the distance transformed seamlessly into a perfect replica of himself.

The shapeshifter, now wearing Halsin's form, approached you with a disarming smile that attempted to mimic Halsin's warmth and wisdom. "I know what you like," they murmured softly, stepping closer with unsettling familiarity.

Halsin's voice resonated with quiet authority, his tone carrying the weight of years spent attuned to the natural rhythms of the world. "This deception will not stand," he declared firmly, his eyes unwavering as he moved closer to intercept the impostor.

Caught off guard by the real Halsin's presence, the shapeshifter faltered, their illusion cracking under the intensity of Halsin's gaze. As the druid's form shifted seamlessly into that of a bear, a low, menacing growl rumbled through the clearing, sending the impostor recoiling in fear.

The shapeshifter abandoned their facade in a panicked retreat, fleeing from the camp with the echo of Halsin's protective wrath still ringing in their ears. Returning to his elf form, Halsin approached you with a calm reassurance, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder.

"You are safe with me," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering unease of the encounter. "Do not let such trickery disturb you."

You nodded, grateful for Halsin's stalwart presence and the steadfast comfort he offered in the face of uncertainty. His unwavering commitment to your well-being and his innate understanding of the natural world were pillars of strength that grounded you amidst the shifting tides of adventure and intrigue that defined your journey together. As you stood together in the tranquil aftermath, the bond between you strengthened by each shared trial, you knew that with Halsin at your side, there was nothing you could not face with courage and resilience.

Hope y'all like it - Seluney xx

[foxaftershocks]

Hello, if you still take prompts for Lars: I think it would be extremely funny if he and the reader are pining after each other so bad, even the ghosts in the lab are annoyed and try to play matchmaker for them.

In any case I love your writing have a nice day :)

This took a while but I hope it was still worth waiting for.

Your mouth was hanging open. Hidden in the shadows of the enclosures, you could watch without being seen. Lars was in the main area, the light highlighting his blond hair and pale skin. You watched as he stretched, arms above his head, spine straightening. Your breath caught in your chest, a flush of warmth going through your body.

He was entirely too tempting for your own good.

Something tapped on the glass beside you. Looking down, the handle of a mop twitched and you sighed.

“I know,” you sighed to the possessor.

It tapped on the glass again.

“I’m not doing that,” you said.

It tapped more insistently against the glass.

“Everything alright over there?” Lars called.

You froze for a moment, grimacing down at the possessor. The traitor began banging on the glass again, louder and louder.

“Yeah, I think so,” you called back, hoping to keep him away long enough for you to get it to shut up.

“You sure?”

Great, he was right there.

“The possessor is trying to make a point,” you said, “it’s not working.”

That last part was directed to the mop waiting in the window. It slammed against the glass, more aggressive than the previous teasing. You shrieked, jumping backwards, not expecting it. Warm hands landed on your hips, holding you steady.

You were slow to turn your head, looking up into worried eyes. His head had bowed towards yours, close enough that you could feel his breath stir your hair. You stilled a moment, feeling his warmth seep into you, wondering if you it would be such a bad thing to lean forward and press your lips to his.

You jerked away from him, taking a deep breath in. He took a step back, averting his gaze, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. You levelled a glare at the mop before turning tail and fleeing back to your station. You had plenty of work to get one with. That was all. It wasn’t because Lars had been close enough to taste. Not that he wanted you to try anyway. So it all worked out for the best.

It wasn’t until a few days later that you found a Stay Puft wandering around your desk. With a sigh, you offered your palm to it, letting it climb aboard to carry it back to its enclosure. It nipped at your finger and you cursed, pinching its body between your thumb and forefinger and lifting it.

“You’ve had an escape,” you said, passing by Lars’ desk.

“Prison break season already?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“That or this one’s gone rogue,” you replied.

Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention as it nipped at your finger again. You yelped, dropping it as a drop of blood bloomed on your skin. You sucked it into your mouth, the sting quick to disappear.

“Bitch,” you muttered, already following it.

Lars was hot on your heels, wending through the desks and the mess from all the research going on. You didn’t take notice of where you were going, rushing after the small marshmallow body as it sprinted through the lab. Rushing through the door it had slipped through you didn’t realise your mistake until you heard it slam shut behind you.

“Fuck,” you said, turning around only to run face first into Lars’ chest.

His hands came up, clasping your waist with a strong hold, keeping you from reeling back and landing on your ass. You froze, the feeling of his body enough to make your thoughts spin. The room was dark and you couldn’t quite make out his expression.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, trying to take a step back.

Your back hit something hard, digging into your spine and you realised exactly where you were. Cursing again, you tried to reach around him for the door. All you managed to do was bring your body against his, arm curled around him as if in an embrace, the doorknob not turning.

“Uh…” was all Lars managed to say.

“We’re locked in,” you said.

Which was about when you realised your face was practically buried in his chest. You jerked back only for your head to hit the shelf behind you.

“Oh,” Lars said.

His hands came up, cradling the back of your head, fingers pressing in. You winced when he found the bruise and he muttered an apology. His fingers began to gently massage the base of your skull, a soft sigh coming from between your parted lips.

“I think you’ll live,” he said, voice whisper soft.

You looked up into his face, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. He was so close, practically surrounding you in the small space. His scent of soap and coffee wrapped around you, invading your very senses. His warmth was washing over you, inescapable in the small closet. You couldn’t hide the way your breath came out as a stutter, caught within the cage of his arms.

“Shouldn’t we try and get out?” you asked.

“Didn’t you say the door was locked?” he replied.

“I could have been wrong.”

His fingers slipped from your hair as he turned to try to the doorknob again. It rattled in his hand but wouldn’t turn. You sighed again, this time from frustration rather from the feeling of Lars’ touch.

“Have we seriously been outsmarted by the Stay Pufts?” you grumbled, “this is a new low.”

“I’m sure it’s just a matter of getting the angle right,” he said, still rattling the doorknob.

“We’re never going to live this down. We’ll be the laughing stock of the lab. Everyone’s only just gotten over the yoghurt thing and now this. I think I’m the least cool person in this lab. And that’s saying something. Barry is middle aged and balding. But at least he plays the saxophone. What have I got? A sad tiny flat and no social life to speak of. I’m so uncool.” You knew you were rambling and yet you couldn’t stop the word from tumbling from your lips.

“You’re not uncool,” Lars said, interrupting your flow, “I think you’re the coolest one here.”

“In this closet? Because I think that means you have some self esteem issues,” you replied.

“I think you’re the coolest person in the lab,” he said, “definitely cooler than Barry. Have you seen that guy at a party? No shirt, just a tie on, playing the sax on top of a table. Trust me, you don’t want to see that.”

“Yeah but he’s never been outsmarted by the Stay Pufts,” you said, fingers twisting together.

“And neither have we,” he said, shoulder slamming against the door. It rattled in its frame but didn’t open, “okay, maybe we have been but we can get out of this.”

“At what point do we just start shouting for help?” you asked.

“Not yet.”

His hands on your hips burnt through your clothes, and you barely noticed he was switching your positions, leaving you with your back to the door and him able to look through the contents of the tiny closet you were stuck in. You pressed back against it, trying to give him as much room as possible. His hands were moving through the dark, using touch more than his eyes to figure out what you had.

“How’re your lock picking skills?” he asked.

“About average for someone who has never done it before,” you replied, “besides, I can’t actually feel a lock on this door.”

“You can’t?”

He turned back to you, hand reaching out to try and feel the doorknob. His searching fingers found yours, skin against burning skin. Your head was slow as it turned up to his face, finding him already looking down at you. You felt your lips part, always so caught up in him whenever he got close enough to touch.

“I’m beginning to think this mischief might have been planned,” he said, voice whisper soft.

“They’re working against us?” you asked.

“Not just them. They’re not smart enough on their own. Someone else has mobilised them,” he replied, “my money is on Bonesy. He’s the brains of the operation.”

“To what end?”

Lars shifted on his feet, eyes darting away from you. Clearly he had more information than you did, a theory already planted in his mind. He was looking down where your fingers were still touching, his tapping tapping out a rhythm against yours. If he didn’t stop you thought your knees might buckle. And yet you couldn’t muster the strength to pull away.

“What aren’t you telling me?” you asked, breathless and needy.

He mumbled something, words you should have been able to hear so close together and yet it was a jumble. Tripping over themselves, the words were unintelligible. And worse of all he still wasn’t looking at you.

“What was that?” you asked.

“The ghosts might have picked up on some underlying feelings,” he muttered.

“Underlying feelings?” Oh god, he knew.

“They might have realised something about… us,” he said.

“Anything they think they know about us is wrong,” you said, now the one tripping over your words in an effort to get them out fast enough to cover your own ass.

“It is?” His eyebrows drew together.

“Totally,” you said, nodding your head.

“What do you think they know about us?” he asked, “because I thought we were talking about my feelings for you.”

“Your… your feelings for me?” You’d lost the thread of the conversation already.

“Yes. Look, the ghosts might have realised that I might have some romantic feelings towards you and this might be their version of forcing me to say something instead of staring at you from across the lab all day,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, “I thought we were talking about…”

“About?”

“About the ghosts picking up on my romantic feelings for you and this being about them making me do something about it instead of just fantasising about you,” you said.

“Oh,” he said, “and those fantasies…?”

“Aren’t appropriate for work,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat again.

“I like the sound of that,” he said, lips pulling up at the corner, lopsided and endearing.

“So you like me?” you asked, needing to hear it confirmed.

“I thought you were clever enough to keep up, love. Maybe I was wrong,” he said.

“No need to be an ass,” you laughed, “I might not kiss you if you are.”

“Kissing is on the table?” He sounded so excited about the concept.

“Now who isn’t clever enough to keep up?”

He lent down, lingering close enough for his breath to ghost over your lips. The soft whine from you only seemed to make him press closer. And yet, when he kissed you it was soft and sweet, the kind of kiss at the end of a romantic movie as the music swelled and the happy ending was secured. You sighed into his mouth, arms curling around his neck as you pushed your body against his.

His hands grasped your hips, pushing you against the door behind you. You couldn’t stop, tongue sweeping into his mouth, kissing him deeper as he groaned. It was better than you’d ever dreamed, the fantasy no comparison to the reality. Heat was rushing through your veins and you clutched him tighter. The way he kept you pinned against the door suggested you weren’t the only one feeling the need to tear off each other’s clothes.

The surface you were leaning on tilted back and you fell, a shriek coming from you. Strong arms caught you around the waist, hauling you up against Lars’ chest. Adrenaline and desire were a heady mix, and as you tried to catch your breath, you found his twinkling blue eyes sweeping over you as lips ticked up into a smirk.

“Falling for me already, are you?” he asked, barely containing a laugh.

“Shut up.”

With both hands on his chest, you pushed yourself back onto your feet, turning to look at the door swinging open behind you. His arm curled around your waist, as if not able to stop touching you. A smushed Stay Puft was leaking from the doorjamb. You wrinkled your nose, edging past it back into the real world.

“Looks like I was right,” Lars said, “they conspired against us.”

“With us, Lars,” you corrected.

“Right, with us.”

His hands tightened on you and you had to wonder if he was ever going to let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted him to. You hadn’t considered Lars as being handsy, and yet you weren’t disappointed to find out he was.

Walking past the possessor, his arm slung over your shoulder, tucked into his side, the chair tapped against the window, perky and excited. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, alright, you can stop now,” you said to it.

“Butt out of our personal lives,” Lars said.

He led you back into the main part of the lab as you chuckled.

“Although they did help. You weren’t going to say anything without them,” you said.

“Neither were you,” he objected.

“Then we were lucky they did step in,” you said, pushing up onto your toes to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

He hummed in agreement, catching you around the waist before you could slip away, pulling you back for a longer kiss before releasing you. Yes, definitely too tempting.

[maxillness]

Tell Me Your Sounds || Ferrari!KR7 x Reserve driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, blowjob, sub!kimi, (slight) yearning, biting,

Wordcount: 1.1k

Might do a part 2, dunno

Kimi never spoke, and when he did, it was short answer, and she hated it

She wanted to have an ongoing conversation with the man, but he kept his answers short, almost like he didn’t want to speak to her

All his silent conversation got her to thinking “Do you think he’s silent in bed too?” She asked, Sebastian almost choking on his water

He looked with a confused expression at her “First of all, it would be interesting to know, but I don’t want to know. Second of all, why are you thinking about that?”

“How the fuck did that make sense what you just said?” It was now her to be confused “And… I can’t sleep at night, so I think, and sometimes it’s weird stuff” She shrugged

“You might as well just find out” He said, taking another sip of his water “I’m joking” He said, seeing her thinking face

“I know, wasn’t even thinking about it” She said, obviously lying

“If you say so”

She definitely needed to find out. One way or another

Over the next few weeks, so tried getting closer to him, tried getting to know him better

She was the one who started texting him first, until he was the one to strike conversation

He was way more wordy over text then when you spoke to him face to face

As they grew closer, her thoughts got dirtier. She could be doing anything, and she would imagine what he would sound like

Her fingers moving inside her, coming around them to the thought of his sounds

It was the race week, and she was talking with Sebastian before FP1

“You’ve gotten your answer yet?” He asked, a cheeky smile on his lips

“No” She sighed “Ask me again on Sunday” She answered, matching his smile

“You’re something of your own” He chuckled, walking away from her again

They had been talking to each other as much as they could when he wasn’t in the car, every now and then placing innocent touches on him

Qualifying rolled around, and both the drivers god an okay end. Both finishing in Q3

“Good job, man” She said, fist bumping Sebastian as he walked into the garage

“Oh, sorry, rakkaus” Kimi had accidentally bumped into her, but in all honesty, she just wanted his touch, no matter how he did it

“It’s quite alright” She smiled, turning around to face him “You did good by the way” She loved the way his eyes lit up and a slight blush crept up on his cheeks at the praise

“Thank you” His words almost got stuck in his throat as he looked down into the floor

She felt a kind of confident boost she never had experienced before, encouraging to take the shot of hearing his sounds

She took a step closer to him, and just below a whisper she said “If you ever wanna celebrate, you know where to find me”

She didn’t let him react before she walked away to talk to some of the machines and engineers

She expected him to react, but not the way he did

He had grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly away from her conversation without as much of an apology

“Kimi-“ She didn’t get to finish her sentence before she was shoved up against the closed door of his drivers room

His lips was on hers immediately, holding a hand behind her head to not hurt her

“Kimi…” She shoved softly on his chest, pushing him away from her

“What? You said if I wanted to celebrate-“ “I know” She panted slightly looking up into her lust blown eyes

“I was just startled, that’s all” She took her hands back to his face, smashing their lips back together in a wet and sloppy kiss

His suit was already hanging on his hips, so it was easy for her to slip her hands down his torso and under his fireproofs, feeling his skin on her fingertips

They parted their lips so she could pull off his fire profs, throwing it carelessly on the floor before attaching her lips above his collarbone

He let out a whimper as she sucked softly on the skin, creating a purple bruise

She pushed on his abdomen, guiding him towards the small couch in the room. She pushed him down once the back of his legs hit it

She got on her knees in front of him, hands tapping his hips, making him buck them up so she could pull the suit down

As the suit was discarded on the floor as well, her hands went to the waist band of his boxers, pulling them down as well

He whimpered at the way her lustful eyes looked up at him. She kissed his inner thigh, forcing him to spread his legs

She scooted forwards, lips still kissing his skin. She bit softly down, pulling a whimper from him

“Please” His hands grabbed the edge of the couch beside his legs

She pulled away from his thigh. Her hands went to his hips, holding them there as her tongue drew over the tip of his cock, drawing out a high-pitched moan from him

He sounded so much prettier than she had imagined. His head threw back as his eyes closed shut as her tongue began to swirl around him

His moans were loud, not giving a shit if anyone could hear him, which they probably could

His whole body shook at her tongue drew over his slit, his moan shuttered, knuckles turning white

He bucked his hips up, wanting her to swallow him

She swirled her tongue around him twice before swallowing him whole. She gagged slightly as he hit the back of her throat

“Mm… Feels so good” She moaned as she started bobbing her head up and down his shaft, spit starting to pool in the corner of her mouth

“Fuck, just like that” The sounds that came out of him was almost embarrassing if he wasn’t fucked out

Her nails dug into the pale skin of his hips as she sped up, her tongue dragging on the sensetive skin of his vain

“Fuck- please- yes… Fuck, so close” His cock started twitching inside her mouth, leaking pre cum on to her tongue

She hummed at the taste of the salty taste, sending vibrations into his cock, sending him over the edge, shooting his cum down here throat with her name rolling off his tongue

She popped off of him, swallowing his load, feeing the sticky substance go down her throat

She stood up, knees hurting and wobbly. She leaned down to kiss him between his knitted eyebrows

“You sound so fucking pretty” She softly placed a kiss on his jaw “You should really talk some more”

“Just for you. Only you’ll hear me” He panted, coming down from his orgasm, his hands caressing the sides of her body

[tizniz]

For the smut prompts “what did you say?” With Buddie 💕

ANON I AM SO SORRY I JUST DISCOVERED THIS IN MY DRAFTS AND I NEVER POSTED IT EARLIER AND I AM SO SO SO SORRY! BUT HERE IT IS BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. AHHHHH.

"What did you say?" Eddie asks around a disbelieving laugh.

Buck shrugs and fiddles with the label of his beer, "I just think that my dick is bigger than yours."

"Should we grab the rulers?" Eddie drawls, taking a swig of his beer. "We can measure them and be sure."

"Or," Buck has already decided he's too far down this path to stop now. "we just show each other."

Eddie gives him a look across the table as he lowers his beer to the surface. And then he says something that Buck was definitely not expecting. "Alright."

"Really?" Buck asks but Eddie is already pushing away from the table and standing, fingers working open his belt. "Holy shit."

"Why not?" Eddie slides the belt out of it's loops and hangs it over the back of the chair he'd been sitting in before reaching for the button of his jeans, popping it open. "We've done weirder shit."

"Right. Yeah. Right." Buck nods, scrambling to his feet as well. He had been wearing sweatpants when Eddie had swung by with a six-pack, so his disrobing will be a lot quicker. He waits until Eddie has the zipper down and his jeans hang open, his hands sitting at the band of them and his underwear.

"Ready?"

"Still thinking I'm dreaming." Buck admits with a laugh, but hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his own pants, "But yeah."

"Alright." Eddie says and then he's pushing his pants and underwear down. Buck follows a split second after, and then they're standing there with their dicks out.

Buck feels a giggle bubbling inside of his chest until he drops his gaze to between Eddie's legs. The giggle disappears immediately, replaced by a heat that surges through him. "Oh."

Even soft, Eddie is impressive. He's thinner than Buck, but still has a decent length that Buck can only imagine would hit spots in Buck that have never been reached before. And he's uncut, which has Buck aching to play.

He can feel himself getting hard as he stares at Eddie. As he feels Eddie stare at him. And all Buck wants to do is fall to his knees or bend over and present himself to Eddie.

"I see why they call you Firehose." Eddie murmurs, and Buck's eyes snap up, taking in the darkened stare and flushed cheeks of his best friend.

"The size isn't why." Buck blurts out before he can stop himself.

"Oh?"

"I...I come...a lot." Buck admits, swallowing. Eddie's breath hitches and his fingers twitch.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Buck doesn't know what to do but then Eddie is kicking off the clothing tangled around his ankles and marching over to Buck, pausing with his hand hovering between them. "Can I...?"

"Fuck, yes. Please." Buck has barely finished speaking before Eddie is taking him in his hand. "Oh shit."

"I want to see." Eddie rasps. "I want...I want to see why you're called Firehose. I want to...fuck, I want to make you come."

"Yes. Yes. Please." Buck whimpers, clinging to Eddie as he arches into the touch. "Take it. Take it all."

It doesn't take long for Eddie to discover just how much Buck comes.

And they both forget about who's dick is bigger.

[weird-is-life]

hey lovie! what about a remus x reader where he sees her asleep in the back of the library one evening on his prefect rounds and he wakes her up. he is more concerned on how long she’s been studying/asleep since it’s so late…on their walk she just walks with him during his rounds because they are just chatty

they both fancy each other but neither of them think the other thinks the same. he walks her back to gryf tower snd he finally says what he’s wanted to say for years

(i hope that makes sense and if ya hate the idea, no problemo lol)

xoxo

Hii lovely🥰 ty for the request. I tried my best, hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n, like one swear word, (0.9k)

Remus has seen you many times before. Either in the common room, halls, dining room, and the most in the library.

Remus always sees you in the library. Sitting quietly more at the back of the room. Either reading some book or doing the assignments for the classes.

So it's no surprise to see you here even now. But it definitely catches him off guard seeing you here so so late. Remus was on the last one of his prefect rounds before heading to bed himself, and he wasn't expecting to see you in the library.

Remus, from a shorter distance, notices that you are asleep. Softly exhaling one breath after another. Something stirs in Remus's heart at the sight of you, but he ignores it.

Remus approaches you, and tries to wake you up as nicely as he can. He doesn't want to scare you. He gently shakes you by your shoulder, and whispers your name a few times.

You rouse from sleep, blinking,  completely baffled by Remus's handsome face.

Remus thinks you are even more cute when you are half asleep. It's not doing any favors to his feelings for you. But he wills those thoughts away, and says, "sorry, y/n. You fell asleep in the library, and it's getting pretty late."

The sleep haze quickly dissappears when you realise where you are. You are up on your feet in a matter of seconds, packing your things away.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I was reading, and-and I must have fallen asleep," you explain in a mild panic. You would be in a lot of trouble if it was anybody else other than Remus that had found you here. Students aren't allowed out of their dorms this late at night.

"It's alright," Remus reassures you with a warm smile," I've done that so many times. I can't even count how many times James or Sirius had to walk down here to retrieve me."

"Really?" you giggle quietly, still very much sleepy and a little stressed.

"Yeah, really," Remus chuckles, too. "Now c'mon, let's get you to your dorm. I'll walk you there. Well, that is if you don't mind."

You shake your head. Indicating that you don't mind at all. Your cheeks go pretty pink as Remus and you start to walk towards the dorms.

You've always thought that Remus was so handsome, and so so smart. You'd never done anything about your crush, of course. Too scared to say anything. But that doesn't mean you haven't been admiring him. You have just-........from afar.

"Why were you in the library so late?" Remus asks to fill in the awkward quiet between you. And also he's a bit worried about you staying there until so late.

"Just studying, I couldn't figure out one assignment," you sigh. You still haven't figured it out, even if you stayed in the library for so many hours.

"The one for the potions?"

"Yeah," you admit in defeat," I've read everything I possibly could, but still i didn't find the answer."

Remus gives you a hesitant smile. You two are just a few steps from the dorms. You were walking too long in the awkward silence, and now the flowing conversation is about to end.

"I can give you the answer. I'll give it to you right away if you give me a second to look for it in my room," Remus instantly offers.

He's spent good few hours trying to find the answer too, so he understands how frustrating it can get. So he's very willing to give you the answer just so you don't go to bed with that on your mind. And also because he likes you, like a lot, and he would give you literally anything if you'd asked for it. He's down that bad for you.

"Really? I would really appreciate it, Remus," you say, happy about his help. You can't even think of how you could possibly thank him for it.

"Just give me a second," he turns towards his dorm, but he suddenly freezes halfway to the door.

Remus abruptly gets a better idea or well it depends on how well it goes. He just can't help his feelings for you any longer, and he needs to know what you feel, too. Even if he may get rejected, and end up with a broken heart.

Remus slowly turns around to face you again, a shy smile on his face.

"Or-r," he starts," we could go to Hogsmeade during the weekend, and I could explain it to you there. With something nice to eat and drink." Remus blurts it out in one breath.

Your eyes go very wide. Is Remus Lupin asking you out on a date or are you still very much asleep in the library, dreaming of this moment?

"L-like a date?" you sheepishly ask, blushing, and looking everywhere but him after your question.

"Yes. Exactly like a date." Remus states, looking nervous and hopeful at the same time.

You look up at him with a smile, you can't really believe that this is happening, " I think, I'd love that."

"Really?" Remus questions happily.

"Yes, really," you nod your head, sending a reassuring smile his way.

"Great. I can't wait," he tells you with a visible excitement.

"Me too," you admit bashfully.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We can sort out the time then. Goodnight, y/n," Remus says, giving you one more soft smile of his.

"Yes, tomorrow then. Goodnight to you too, Remus," you wave him goodbye, and quickly dissappear into your dorm before you can collapse on the spot from the way your legs have turned to jello.

You think you can hear pretty loud cheers of the Marauders as you head to change into your pyjamas. A shy giggle escapes your mouth when you think about Remus telling his best mates about your date, and them being so happy about it.

[kybercrystals94]

Detail Work

Read here on Ao3!

Author’s Note: This elderly story is the second Bad Batch fanfic I ever wrote that I only posted on Archive of Our Own and never on Tumblr (except as a link). I’ve decided I wanna cross-post my older works 🫶 More older (read rougher) fics to come 😅

Rated: G | Words: 1204 | Summary: Omega asks for Tech’s help.

Omega sat with her arms folded on the table, her head pillowed on them comfortably, watching Tech work in companionable silence. The others had gone on a supply run earlier that morning, and Tech was using the quiet as an opportunity to delve into some of his lesser important projects. Currently, this consisted of rewiring the comm in his helmet to allow him the ability to switch between frequencies more smoothly. While GAR regulations had not deeply affected his willingness to alter equipment, it had put a damper on it – especially when Echo joined the batch. He never thought Echo would necessarily “tattle” on him, but there had always been a wary glint in Echo’s eye that made Tech keep his more daring improvements secret from the ARC Trooper.

He had no such qualms now.

“You’re really good at twisting the wires around like that,” Omega said suddenly.

Tech acknowledged her with a hum.

“You’re good at detail work, aren’t you?” Omega asked, although it was not really a question.

“I like to think so,” Tech agreed, not looking up from his work.

“Better than anyone else I’ve ever seen,” Omega continued.

Tech finally spared a glance in Omega’s direction, eyes narrowed. He had a feeling that this line of conversation was going in the direction of – as Wrecker called it – attempting to “butter him up” with the intent of getting something she wanted. After a pause, he said, “Thank you, Omega. I appreciate your confidence in my work.”

Omega didn’t lift her head from her arms but smiled at him shyly.

“My hair is getting pretty long,” Omega said, changing the subject abruptly.

“Hmm, yes,” Tech agreed, tossing another glance in her direction. “I suppose we should consider cutting it soon to be a more manageable length.”

To his surprise, Omega bristled, sitting up straight. “I can manage it this long,” she said coldly. “I’m not complaining about it. Besides, Hunter’s hair is even longer than mine and he manages just fine.”

Confused by Omega’s suddenly heated tone, Tech wondered if he had missed something, replaying the brief conversation in his head to find his mistake. Perhaps he had misunderstood her comment about the length of her hair? He should have responded positively rather than try to correct a perceived problem. Ah.

“I apologize, I did not mean to imply that you could not manage the current length of your hair,” he intoned awkwardly.

Omega’s furrowed face smoothed out, and she smiled again, shrugging off the accidental slight. Tech relaxed, appreciative that he had managed to avoid a crisis of emotions without his more emotionally intelligent brothers present.

“That’s alright,” Omega said brightly.

“I believe,” Tech said carefully, “that you were making a point...about your hair?”

“Yes,” Omega agreed readily, “I think that it is finally long enough to braid!”

Tech considered her hair length with his analytical mind. “I believe you are correct,” he said.

“So,” Omega said, seemingly encouraged by his words, “I was wondering – since you are good with detail work – if you could do it? Braid my hair?”

And there it was. The entire point of the conversation, which had, in reality, never diverted from its original course. Tech had to give the girl credit for catching him completely off guard, especially in the fact that he was struggling with denying her simple and trusting request.

Her eyes stared straight into his, sparkling with hope and determination.

“Ah, yes, well,” Tech stammered, his project now completely forgotten in his hands. “Well,” he tried again, “I am afraid I don’t know how to braid hair.”

“That’s okay,” Omega said smoothly, as if she’d expected as much. She held up a datapad she’d had in her lap. “I found instructions. They are very comprehensive." The last word was stilted, as though she were ensuring she said it correctly.

She really had thought of everything.

Tech gave her a wry smile. “How long have you been planning on enlisting me to braid your hair, Miss Omega?”

Omega grinned, averting her gaze to the pad in her hands. “Maybe since I found out the others were going to be gone on a supply run a few days ago?”

He appreciated that she had planned it around their brothers not being present. While he was certain they would not be unkind about Tech braiding Omega’s hair, he imagined that they would feel obliged to lightheartedly rib him a bit on the subject...as brothers do.

“I suppose I had better start reading these instructions then,” Tech said, taking the datapad from her.

***

The smile that lit up Omega’s face made his heart warm with sentimental emotion. No wonder his brothers were so easy to persuade into her whimsical schemes – her happiness was most contagious and addicting.

After some trial and error, Tech was finally able to sit back and admire his work. While Omega had been correct in assessing that Tech was proficient in what she called “detailed work”, hair was a much more delicate medium than he was accustomed to. Hair seemed to have a mind of its own, going every which way while his fingers clumsily tried to reign it in. Granted, his attempts were undoubtedly better than what any of his brothers might have managed given the same task.

“I believe I have finally finished,” Tech said, giving one of her braids a gentle and playful tug.

They were very short at the ends, but since he had started the braids at her hairline, it made the braids look ornate although the tails barely went past the nape of her neck.

“Oh!” Omega breathed, reaching up, her hands carefully touching her hair, feeling the plaits with her fingers, and tracing them down to the ends. “I’m going to look in the mirror!” She jumped up and ran to the ‘fresher, Tech trailing behind her.

She stood on tip toe to peer into the reflective metal plate attached above the sink. It was hardly reflective anymore, dented and scraped to the point that Omega’s reflection was disfigured and dull. She didn’t voice her disappointment over not being able to see Tech’s hard work, but her shoulders sagged a bit at the realization.

Tech quickly came up with a solution. “What if I take a holopic?” he asked. “Then perhaps you might see it in more detail.”

Omega could barely stand still long enough for him to take a clear pic before she was scrambling to take the datapad out of his hands and examine it. “Wow,” she gasped, her voice soft, “they look even better than I imagined! Thank you so much, Tech!”

“You are most welcome,” Tech responded with a smile, and before he could catch himself or think better of it, he added, “And should you need help again in the future, I would be happy to assist.”

Omega put the datapad down on the table and threw her arms around Tech’s waist, hugging him tight. “I’m so happy that I have a brother like you,” she said, squeezing impossibly tighter.

Tech chuckled and patted the top of her head, careful not to disturb the woven tresses. “And I am most grateful to have a sister like you.”

END

[strawberrystepmom]

but how does that first time with Umemiya actually go? 🤔

honestly? he’s more intense than you expected. you’re too used to his jovial nature, his grins and his big hand always wrapped around your shoulder to keep you close to him. you never doubted he’d make you feel good but it is pleasantly surprising to see how bad he wants to the first time.

“just one more for me?” he asks, fingers crooked with expert precision inside of you, rubbing that spot that has your toes curling against his sides. his tongue laps at your clit. he backs his face away to kiss your inner thighs, leaving traces of his front teeth behind in the form of tiny love bites, thumb replacing his tongue to toy with you.

“but i wanna cum on you,” you whine breathlessly, back arched, elbows propping you up. his hair falls in his face and you do your best to lean up and push it away from his eyes.

(those honest, beautiful eyes you can’t believe look so different from how they usually do when glancing up from between your thighs.)

“you’ll get to once you give me one more,” he teases with a raised brow, leaning back down to sloppily kiss your drenched cunt, tongue softening while he drags it through your folds and tensing when he presses the flat of it against your clit. your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, and he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

you shiver gently, another orgasm shimmering through your body, and he laps at your droplets of release. sweeter than anything he could’ve imagined. he groans, low in his throat and deep in his chest.

“hajime.” his eyes flit from your pretty, shiny pussy to your face when you say his name. “please, please fuck me. i need to feel you.”

no longer a mere want, he’s a need. something you can’t live without. umemiya’s eyes drift down your body and back to your pretty cunt that clenches around nothing, all thanks to the mere weight of his gaze. your body is so tense and taut despite the three orgasms he has already pulled from you using his tongue and lips and fingers and you are overwhelmed.

“please,” you beg again, the word far more high pitched at the end than at the beginning. every part of you needs to feel how well you’ll stretch to accommodate him.

he smirks and rises to his knees, heavy cock bobbing with every scoot upward onto his bed, nearer to your spread thighs, your soft skin, your unapologetic beauty. obsessed feels like too light of a word for how he feels about you.

you gasp softly when he grips his cock and bounces the flushed head of it against your sticky, sensitive folds. his hips grind and you watch him slip through them, frustrated whines you cannot stop spilling out every time he grinds against the spot that is most sensitive. your face contorts in impatience and pleasure and when he’s certain you’re going to open your mouth to ask him for a third time, he slips in.

just the tip. just enough that you can really feel how you’ll have to stretch for the rest of him to be buried inside of you. you moan and it’s a symphony, music to his ears he wants to hear constantly, pulling his tip out and slowly sinking it back inside of you. he leans over you, one strong arm holding him up, holding you close to him with the other.

“i’ll let you cum as many times as you want as long as you tell me you’re about to, alright?” he commands against your cheek. you wanna argue, to tell him the way your body is going to grip him and pulse around him will be enough to warn him, but you nod. you’re too relieved to be full to put up too much of a fight.

he sinks deeper inside of you and you gasp. “fuck…” you breathe out and he chuckles, kissing your cheek gently.

“what did i say?”

you open your eyes to look at him, hand cupping his face to keep him close to you.

“i think i’m gonna cum, hajime.”

he sinks just a little deeper and you further tighten around him. another sweet, smooth chuckle leaves him.

“you think?” he raises a brow, sinking even deeper, torturously slow and methodical. “i know you’re about to cum again.”

hand sliding from cradling your shoulders to the backs of your thighs, he pushes them upward toward your chest, that little glimmer of intensity in his eyes flowing through his body and driving his movements. he pins you beneath him with his chest and his thighs and his hands and all you’ll be able to do is cum.

just for him.

[soleilceirinen]

Be careful, darling | modern!Levi Ackerman x wife!Reader

Summary: you want to surprise Levi on your anniversary but it does not turn out the way you expect. Modern AU. Warning: nothing, mentions of blood (you get hurt and he worries). A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes. Words: 1.6k

Five years.

Time flies by in the blink of an eye, it feels like it was yesterday when you got on that train and ended up sitting next to Levi, but it’s been five years since then. 

He seemed a little distant and spent most of the time frowning. During that train journey you discovered that both of you shared a certain aversion towards small children. You didn’t like them because they were little noisy humans and he didn’t like them because they were walking bags of germs. 

Three hours later he was no longer frowning. Instead, one of the most incredible smiles you had ever seen dazzled in the middle of his face.

And now you are about to celebrate your second anniversary together since you got married.

Levi is still at work but he would be arriving home soon. You want to surprise him with a homemade dinner. He likes simple things and being calm, enjoying everyday experiences as well as spending time with you. As long as you are by his side, he’ll be happy.

Everything is almost ready, all that’s left is to take the food out of the oven and serve the dishes. You’ve lit a few candles whose scent fills the living room and the golden glow of the sunset comes through the kitchen window, creating a beautiful atmosphere. By the time Levi arrives it would be dark so he won’t see the golden light but at least you have the candles.

You take out some ingredients to make a salad and put them on the counter, where you already have a big glass bowl. 

As you wash the tomatoes you hear the sound of keys turning in the lock and the sounds of Levi’s footsteps. He approaches, following the delicious smell of dinner and enters the kitchen, stopping next to you, in front of the sink. 

"How was your day?" you ask as you cut the tomatoes into small pieces.

Levi shrugs while rubbing his hands with soap over and over again under the faucet. You see him doing it from the corner of your eye but decide to say nothing, although it worries you a little bit. Once he washed his hands so many times that the skin around his fingers and wrists started to crack and peel off. 

“It was alright, Erwin wanted to go out and have a few beers but I said no”, he explains, drying his hands with a kitchen towel and moving to stand behind you. Then, he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning with his chin between your neck and your shoulder. “He kept insisting until I told him that my girl was waiting for me,” he whispers in your ear, leaving a trail of small kisses down your neck.

It makes you giggle and wriggle in his arms, and he takes the opportunity to start tickling you. “You could tell him and Hanji to have lunch together someday too. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Levi presses his body against you, growling softly. “I see them every day at work,” he complains. 

“Exactly, you see them. But I haven’t seen them in ages. Don’t be selfish, they are your friends, and mine too!” you joke as you grab another tomato. 

“Selfish? Me?” he asks, pretending to be offended. You smile at him over your shoulder and his grey eyes shine with amusement, small wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, you are.”

Before you can react, Levi starts another tickling attack. You let out a surprised shriek as his skillful fingers slid over your ribs, making you squirm with laughter. 

“Levi! No, no, stop. No!”

His melodious laugh accompanies your frantic one until you tense and a curse escapes from your lips. Levi stops, because you never curse. He seems to be frozen in time, expectant, not knowing what has caused you to react that way. He’s aware that something had happened nonetheless. 

You drop the knife you were holding and the half cut tomato on the counter, prior to stare down at your hand. In the middle of your palm is beginning to form a red line, where you’ve cut yourself. You scrutinize it in silence, all the previous laughter gone. Levi peeks over your shoulder to see what has made you gone quiet all of a sudden and when he notices the blood, he starts cursing like a sailor.

“It’s okay,” you say softly.

It’s just a cut after all, not like you’re going to die or something. It’s starting to sting though, due to the juice of the tomatoes. 

Gently, Levi grabs you by the wrist and leads you to the sink, where he places your hand under the stream of water. Immediately, the bottom of the sink turns a light tone of red. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were cutting stuff. How did you cut your hand like that?” He is worried, which is evident in his voice. He grabs one of the clean dish towels and wraps it around your hand, pressing the wound to stop the bleeding.

You bite your lip and shake your head. Your voice comes out weak. “I don’t know, Lee.”

Levi stares at you with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “It’s the blood, you know that I don't like it. I think I should sit for a moment. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He keeps staring at your face, which is getting paler and paler each second. Carefully so you don’t fall in case you faint, he helps you sitting in one of the chairs next to the kitchen table and sits in front of you. He’s still pressing his hand against your palm. 

“The counter looks like a mess,” you mutter under your breath and Levi frowns. He looks at the counter and then at you before shaking his head. His soft hair bounces with the movement, falling into his eyes. He brushes it out of his face with the hand that’s not holding yours.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll clean it up later,” he says. “Honestly, the counter is the least of my worries right now.”

He opens the cloth, now soaked in red, and examines the wound in silence. You look away and sigh, feeling better. 

“You know, it was my fault. I was cutting into my hand,” you admit. 

Levi raises an eyebrow and gives you a questioning look. “What do you mean? If I hadn’t been tickling you, you wouldn’t…”

You kick his shin under the table. “Stop blaming yourself, Levi! I was using my hand as a cutting board,” you explain, feeling quite embarrassed about it. 

Then, Levi understands what you mean and his expression changes. He’s still worried but in a different way. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just remains quiet with his lips pressed in a thin line. When you meet his eyes, his face reflects an unspoken question: why are you like this?

“Darling, we have cutting boards. Plenty of them, actually. How many times have I told you not to use your hand?” he wonders, not really expecting an answer from you. “Sometimes I don’t understand you, it’s as if you had no self preservation instinct.”

“I know… but it’s an old habit that I have. Most times I do it and I don’t even realize it.”

Since you were young, you had been using your hand to cut things and not even once had you cut yourself. So you kept doing it that way over the years. Every time someone witnessed you doing it they always lectured you about how dangerous it was and that one day you were going to cut a finger off. 

Levi sighs and leans with his elbows on the table. He takes another look at your wound. “It’s not bleeding anymore,” he informs you. 

“I’m sorry, Levi,” you say and without any warning you start sobbing. You can’t help it and somehow it makes you feel like a child, so you look away to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Why?” he asks softly, as he leans further across the table to hold your face in his hands. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs and his touch is gentle. He’s not mad at you, he’s just concerned. “Hey, don’t cry.”

But this only makes you cry harder. 

“I’ve ruined our anniversary. I wanted to surprise you with a nice dinner and now look at this mess. You must think I’m a fucking idiot.”

Levi shakes his head and stands up, he doesn’t like to see you like this. He kneels next to you and wipes away your tears. You bend over him, until your foreheads are pressed together.

“I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you think,” he tells you, trying to lift your spirits. “I’m mad at myself for not paying attention. You just need to be more careful when knives are involved, after all the salad doesn’t need any piece of you in it, am I right?”

His joke makes you smile a little. He pushes away and holds your face once again between his hands. The two of you stare into each other's eyes for a while before he presses his lips against yours. Levi takes his time, not rushing it and you close your eyes, leaning into him. 

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he whispers against your lips. “Happy anniversary, here’s to many more.”

You kiss him one more time. "Happy anniversary, Levi," you whisper tenderly, noticing a strange smell in the air.

It no longer smells like the scented candles that you lit a while ago, instead, a burnt scent has taken their place. "Turn off the oven!" you suddenly scream and Levi jumps to do so. He stares at the inside of the oven for a few seconds before turning to you, biting his lip.

"I think we should order something", he says nonchalantly and you can't help but laugh.

The surprise dinner is undeniably ruined, but at least you have Levi by your side and he has you. What else could you ask for?

[theamberfist]

Like Father, Like Child | Part 3 | Alastor x Exorcist! Reader

Familial! Alastor + Exorcist! Adopted Child! Reader

Description:

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, fallen angels) (gender neutral reader) (reader is Alastor's adopted child from when they were alive) (Part 3 of Like Father, Like Child)

Part 1, Part 2

❀ We've got a song in this one! (Sometimes I like to write in songs I find if they fit the scene since Hazbin Hotel is a musical after all!) ❀

Words: 3,687

"...Vox?" Velvette's voice finally called out, breaking the silence that had been enveloping the room. In front of her, the TV demon sat staring at the screen and panting heavily; almost like he'd just run a marathon that he'd been severely unprepared for. "You alright...?" When her companion didn't answer, she exchanged a glance with Valentino, who simply shrugged as if this wasn't her problem too.

Velvette rolled her eyes, leaning forward to gently touch Vox's shoulder in an attempt to wake him from whatever trance he'd gone into while watching the battle on TV. The second her hand made contact with him, he seemed to finally snap out of it with a start.

"Vox?" The fashionable overlord asked with a bit of concern in her voice. To her surprise and slight relief, the man demon with the TV head began laughing. It started quietly at first but as time went on, the sound got louder and louder, progressing into full-on cackles as he finally leaned back and cast his gaze upward. His laughter could probably heard from all the way down the hall as he brought a hand up to his head. Had he had any hair, he likely would have been running his fingers through it manically. 

Finally, the laughter subsided and he breathed a long, deep gasp. "Fuck, that was a show!" He exclaimed excitedly. The other two overlords watched him with interest, but also a bit of concern. 

"Who...Knew?" Vox finally asked as slowly stood from his chair and headed closer to the TV, which was paused on an image of Alastor and you right before you melted away into the shadows. "Who knew the great Radio Demon actually had something he cared about?"

"And an exorcist, too." Val added as he blew another puff from his cigarette. "I wouldn't have expected him to know anyone from heaven."

"If they're an exorcist then they're probably just as sick in the head as he is." Velvette said, returning to her phone now to post on her story, "Interesting how he seemed to defend them though, wasn't it?" 

"What the hell was that?!" Vox asked suddenly, putting a hand to the TV screen, "They were supposed to be fighting against the angels and then he just goes and saves one of them? What are they, friends or something?" 

"Don't get too jealous..." Velvette mumbled under her breath so that Vox didn't hear it. 

"He probably thinks he can use them for something," Valentino shrugged. It would be idiotic for Alastor to even try that, though; everyone knew the angels would never work alongside demons for anything, and especially not the exorcists. Unless, of course, the two of you had some kind of personal relation no one knew about. 

Vox laughed again, turning around to face his two companions. When his laughter died out he finally breathed in once more. "We can use this." 

"Can we?" Velvette asked, mostly uninterested in the idea. She and Val really didn't have the same beef with Alastor that their co-worker did and she'd always preferred to stay uninvolved with it. 

"If Alastor of all people cares enough to save them," Vox paused, an insane look on his face, "An exorcist, what will everyone think when they find out?"

"That he's lost his fucking mind, which we already knew?" Velvette suggested. 

"That he's gone soft." Vox replied, placing his hands behind his back and turning away as he headed for the next room over, "They'll finally see him for what he really is; a coward. The Radio Demon will lose his relevance, become a thing of the past, and we'll finally rise above like we were always meant to!" His plans were beginning to go off the rails now but no one wanted to stop him. "Mark my words; this time tomorrow, the V's will be the only overlords worth mentioning." His gaze darkened as he finished the sentence and walked out the door, slamming it shut dramatically behind him. 

"Does this mean we're not watching the rest?" Velvette called now that he was gone. She'd been looking forward to see the hotel residents cry after the loss of their home, as well as the broadcast that was supposed to come after it showcasing the full losses of the extermination. 

"Record it!" Vox shouted back and the fashionista overlord groaned but grabbed the remote to set it to record nonetheless. 

..........

You awoke to the sound of quiet jazz music playing somewhere nearby. At first, you thought your alarm had been changed. Today was the day of the extermination and, given the very detailed dream you'd had last night, you weren't looking forward to going down to hell at all. 

You knew Molly would come by your room like she'd done in your dream if you didn't wake up soon, but at the same time, you were just so tired. You didn't want to get out of your bed, which, you had to admit, was significantly less comfortable than you remembered. It was warm enough though, and you tugged the covers further up your body; in denial about your responsibilities for the day. 

At least the music coming from your alarm was nice. You'd always liked jazz; it reminded you of the kind of music that had been popular when you were alive; the kind you'd always listened to with your dad. 

...Your dad. Right; you didn't often allow yourself to think about the man. But he'd been in your dream last night, hadn't he? You thought back to the events, which were becoming significantly less blurry now. You'd gone to hell, seen him again, refused to kill him, and then been expelled from heaven...

Suddenly, your eyes shot open and you sat up straight; ignoring the dizziness in your head as you did so. 

"Ah, you're finally awake!" You froze. Yep, that had definitely not been a dream. You would recognize the voice of your father anywhere, but right now, it felt impossible to call that unfortunate. 

Finally, you turned to see the red deer-like demon standing to your left next to the bed you were currently laying in. He wore the same signature smile you knew so well; the one your dad had always wore.

But even as he stood in front of you now; his horrible past-actions clear from the fact that he was a sinner; you still somehow couldn't find it within yourself to denounce him as your father. He'd raised you, and like it or not, he'd also saved you yesterday.

That just didn't mean you had to forgive him immediately. 

"Where am I?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice as you looked around the foreign room. The last thing you remembered before passing out was Adam ripping your wings off and stabbing you in the eye.

Speaking of, you reached up to your eye now, feeling that it had been heavily bandaged and probably cleaned as well. Shifting where you sat, you could also feel more bandages placed on your back where you'd lost your wings and anywhere else you might have been injured. They had no doubt been the work of the sinner before you, and you weren't sure whether to feel touched by that or angered. 

"Why, the Hazbin Hotel, of course!" Alastor replied as he set a glass of water you hadn't realized he had on the table next to your bed. "I know the owner quite well, and I managed to get you one of our better rooms!" It seemed like he expected you to be thankful, but instead, you met him with a look of confusion. Still, that didn't break his demeanor. "Of course, I'd do anything for you, my dear!" 

Slowly, you nodded, pushing yourself up straighter in the bed. You'd heard about this hotel from Adam's many rants; he'd been particularly angry about its existence after Charlie had come to heaven to attend angelic court, which you weren't present for. However, you'd never expected your dad, of all people, to be a part of some kind of rehabilitation center. 

"And...The rest of the angels?" You managed finally, unsure of what else to ask. No matter how many questions you for your dad, it seemed you couldn't manage to get them out right now. 

"Oh, they're long gone!" Alastor replied as he took a seat at the end of your bed and adjusted his bow-tie casually. "So it appears you'll be stuck here in hell for quite a while! What a shame." When he said the last part, though, he sounded anything but disappointed about it. 

You took a second to process that. Of course, you'd expected the other exorcists to leave you behind if something went wrong, but even though the job had never been your first choice, it was still...shocking to know that you really had fallen from heaven while doing it. Alastor seemed to notice your shock because his smile widened and he continued. 

"Not to worry though, my dear! You're welcome to stay here at the hotel for as long as you need!" You weren't sure how to respond to that. Did you want to stay here? You didn't have much other option, but at the same time, that feeling of betrayal that came over you after your dad's death still hadn't gone away. 

"I..." You weren't sure what to say, "Does the hotel owner know I'm..." You trailed off.

"An angel?" Alastor questioned, "Why, of course! How else do you think I explained your sudden arrival here? And it seemed our own fallen-angel resident recognized you too." At that, you perked up. Fallen angel? Did he mean Vaggie? Was this where she had ended up after being kicked out of heaven?

That wasn't what you were getting at though. "No, do they know you're..." You couldn't say it; not after all this time.

"The Radio Demon?" Alastor replied, though he knew exactly what you were referring to, "Why, of course! With a reputation like my own, it's hard for anyone down here not to know!" 

"No-" You started again, only for Alastor to interrupt you once more by gently taking your arm and pulling you up off the bed. 

"Now, I know we have quite a bit of catching up to do but it seems the rest of the hotel residents would love to meet you!" He explained as he pulled you along towards the door. Unsure of what else to do, you followed him out into the hotel, glancing down at your still-tattered exorcist uniform. 'What a way to make a first impression...' You thought. 

Luckily, Alastor seemed to notice this concern of yours too because he suddenly stopped. "Right, I suppose we can't have you looking a mess when you meet the other guests!" He decided, snapping his fingers and instantly making your clothes shift into a completely different outfit. It seemed to be modeled after what you'd worn back when you were alive; your favorite outfit, actually. You were surprised he still remembered which one you'd liked best. 

"There we are!" he spoke, gesturing for you to follow him down the hall. 

"Thanks..." You said quietly.

"Why, of course!" The Radio Demon replied, opening the door to what you assumed was to be the main lobby, "Now, prepare to meet the pathetic, hopeless sinners that are trying to redeem themselves." With that, he stepped through the door and you followed behind him. 

The second you entered the room, streamers and balloons were tossed your way, momentarily blocking your view. 

"Surprise!" A high-pitched voice shouted; accompanied by a few others. There was a brief moment of silence as you wiped confetti out of your face before you finally looked up to see a group of people gathered in the lobby. There was a tall girl with blonde hair and rosy red cheeks, a similar looking but much-shorter man, a tall spider-like demon with pink dots and heart shapes on his head, some sort of cat with wings, a tiny cyclops girl, and a girl you recognized very well who immediately looked away from your gaze. 

Above them was a huge banner that read 'welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!' You wondered how long you'd been out if they'd had this much time to prepare for your arrival. 

"Welcome to the hotel!" The tall blonde girl finally said, taking a step forward from the rest of the group, "I'm Charlie, the owner, and you already met Alastor." She gestured to your dad, who simply stood off to the side with a smug smile.

"Well, I would hope so-" You began, only for him to cut you off.

"It would appear so!" He exclaimed, "Now, why don't the rest of you introduce yourselves to our new guest? After all, you wouldn't want to be rude!" Something in his tone made them all shiver but when you looked back at him, he wore the same smile as always. It was creepy, sure, but it was no different than his usual demeanor. 

Still, the rest of the group came forward, introducing themselves one by one. The shorter man was Lucifer, the king of hell himself because of course he was here, and then there was Angel Dust, who made you slightly uncomfortable, Husk, whom you guessed worked for your dad based on their dynamic, Nifty, who honestly scared you but seemed to like you enough, and finally, Vaggie. 

"Hey." She said when it was finally her turn for introductions. 

"So this is where you ended up after you disappeared?" You asked, feeling a little ashamed you hadn't realized it sooner. Adam had just told the rest of you she was gone and that she wasn't coming back. 

"Yeah..." She admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, "And now you're here too."

"I guess so." You smiled, feeling a little better now that you knew you weren't alone in this situation. Once introductions were done, Charlie immediately pulled you away for a tour of the hotel, which your dad oversaw.

Though, you beginning to realize no one here knew he was your dad. You weren't sure what he'd told them when he brought you back to the hotel, but it seemed he often did things without reason- or at least, without reasons they could understand- so they weren't questioning it. You considered bringing it up yourself, but based on the side-eyes Alastor kept giving you, decided against it.

If it became important later, you would tell them. But for now, your dad was unfortunately the only person you knew well enough to trust here, despite all he'd done. 

Finally, the tour came to an end and you collapsed on your couch, exhausted. Charlie had way too much energy for you but you liked how cheerful she was. Vaggie came over to sit by you; a sympathetic look on her face as Charlie went off to work on her 'lesson plans' for the next day. It seemed she really was the only person in this hotel that took redemption seriously, which didn't seem very promising for its success. 

Angel Dust came over now, plopping down on the other side of you on the couch and noticing your tired-out state. "Charlie already got you running around, huh?" He asked and you nodded. "Well, get used to it, toots. That'll pretty much be your whole life from now on." You sighed but if you were being honest, you didn't have much of a problem with that. Charlie was sweet and since you had Vaggie here, you couldn't help feeling a little more hopeful about your situation. Even with your dad here...

"Can ya turn on channel 6?" Angel asked now, glancing at Vaggie, who was closest to the remote. You looked up, not realizing there had been a TV earlier. When you'd died, they'd been growing in popularity, but hadn't quite taken off yet, so you weren't used to using them. 

"I don't think they should have to see whatever it is you're watching." Vaggie replied as she crossed her arms, making no move to grab the remote. 

"What? The season finale of 'Yeah I Fucked Your Sister. So What?' is on! It's nothing like that!" You, being new to hell, weren't sure what he was referring to but decided to help him out nonetheless.

"I'll do it!" You chirped, grabbing the TV remote and flipping to Angel's requested channel. A smile grew on his face and Vaggie glared back at him. 

"Thanks, kid." The spider demon nudged you as he got comfortable on the couch. You leaned back too, deciding to watch the show with him and see what it was all about.

As it turned out, Angel's favorite show was actually pretty interesting. There was just so much drama ensuing at every turn! Once you got into it, you didn't want to stop watching. It seemed fate had had other ideas, though, because just a few minutes into the episode, it was interrupted by a surprise broadcast from a news channel you'd never heard of. Vaggie seemed to recognize it though because her eyes narrowed.

"Vox..." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. You turned back to the TV with a frown, only for your eyes to widen when a picture of you showed up on the screen as he spoke. Not only that, but the things he was saying about you were...Less than flattering.

"Hey, first day in hell and you already made the news!" Angel spoke, nudging you. You couldn't take your eyes off the TV, though.

"Why would I be on the news...?" You asked. No one had answer; simply watching as the TV overlord continued to slander your name.

..........

"Put this broadcast on every channel we have!" Vox barked to his assistant, who immediately scrambled to do as he said. 

"Sir, we have a few other programs set to run already-" He began, only to be cut off by the terrifying (in his opinion) overlord. 

"I don't care! You'd better make sure everyone in hell sees this news or I swear I will rip your intestines out of your body!" That was enough to make the other sinner get moving and Vox immediately went to plug himself into the broadcast system like he always did. He had a plan to not only ruin Alastor, but also lure him out of his little hiding place within the hotel for good.

If things went well, the Radio Demon would no longer be a problem after today. 

Vox set his broadcast so that it took place in a regular news setting, waiting for his assistant to cue him in. He knew one of the best ways to get through to the citizens of hell was through song- ironically- and so that was what he planned to do. His assistant signaled so he drew in a breath before beginning. 

"My good people of hell!" He spoke in that typical newscaster tone, "Are you aware that the last extermination left us with more than just confusion and a lack of dead bodies? Have you felt that there's been something amiss? Did you know an exorcist still walks among us right now?" He put extra emphasis on the last part and let a photo of you from during the extermination appear on the screen. It had no doubt gained the attention of anyone who was watching from the streets.

"Now is not the time to be complacent!" He told the cameras, "We should do something!" Then he changed the setting in an effort to keep everyone's attention. Now, he was among the crowd that always populated the bottom floor of the V's tower. 

"Something is lurking, something is near!" He sang, darting between people in the crowd, "Something is feeling stranger, stranger! Stirring up discord, whipping up fear! Whispering softly 'danger, danger!'" He pushed two people out of his way to step forward. 

"Outsiders creep up slow and steady, wings glistening, halos at the ready; think what they could do to the status quo!" He knew a photo of you was no doubt appearing on the screen as well and relished it. 

"Oh no!" His assistant chimed in for extra dramatics. The scene changed again so that they were now standing somewhere in Cannibal Town. 

"They're gonna steal, plunder, and pillage!" Vox announced to an old woman who looked very angry at the idea, "They're gonna take over the village!" The cannibals seemed to be foaming at the mouth with rage so he decided to use that. "Don't just sit on your butts and do nothing and wait; let's enter a blind, irrational state!" 

People began gathering around him; some of them from the cannibal colony and others from various other places in hell. He knew it his plan was working now; all he had to do was lead them to Alastor and you. 

"Better get nervous, better get tense!" He ordered the group following behind him down the street, "Better not let them catch you blinking!" He slid over to a group of people that had yet to join him. "You don't need a reason; ladies and gents! This is no time for sober thinking!" Seeing the look on their faces, he knew he'd convinced them too.

"Mob!" He announced.

"Mob?" One of the people following behind him questioned. 

"M-m-m-mob!" Vox confirmed.

"Mob? Mob?" The people repeated. 

"Angry angry mob!" Vox demanded, beginning to march down the street. Luckily, it seemed his powers as an overlord hadn't run out because the rest of the sinners followed with furious looks on their faces. 

"Mob, mob, m-m-m-mob!" They chanted, "Mob, mob! Angry angry!" 

"Sharpen your senses!" Vox ordered as they got within sight of the hotel now, "sharpen your tongues! Sharpen your moral indignation!" The more he sang, the more people seemed to join the mob behind him. "Gather in groups and ready your lungs! Holler with pent-up aggravation!"

"Mob, mob! M-m-m-mob!" The sinners behind him chanted, "Mob, mob! Angry angry! Mob, mob! M-m-m-mob! Mob, mob! Angry angry!"

Vox cackled as they reached the hotel now, ready to bang down the doors. This was going even better than he'd hoped; why hadn't he tried something like it sooner?

After all, sinners were so easy to control when they scared and confused.

[itsthe60sbaby]

I have been reading some comments around and just thought I would give you my two cents about a couple of things. Just for the sake of sharing and infusing some calming positivity above the fandom I hope.

I come from a long viewer experience; deeply invested viewer experience. I love tv shows, I love falling in love with them; I am kinda selective, I do not waste much time on those that do not resonate for me, but I can watch crime stories, horror ones, love stories, spies ones, as long as they have something that intrigues me. But when there’s a good love story, I am like Penelope. I can’t resist. I love to watch the relationships unfolding, I love the ups and downs, the rollercoaster of emotions. Blending comedy with drama, as well. And from time to time I love the feeling to find just my perfect cup of tea. That one show feeding my soul in that particular moment of my life. Among my favs, just to give a picture: This is Us, Jane the Virgin, The Good Place, The Good Wife, Modern Family, House, and many others.

I come from a long experience then. And getting invested, shipping a couple with the highest level of expectations can be tricky. Especially if you let PR strategy get to you.

On one level, you expect so much from the show you’re watching, you start making up fantasies of your own, picturing stuff in your head and that of course never materializes. It would be impossible. And yet some creative decisions serve a higher purpose. It’s a work of art. Some people would always find something they do not like so much, others will go along. If you don’t have expectations and are less invested, you probably end up enjoying it more, in a sense. But there’s a lot of work behind it all, so many professionals giving their hearts and souls to the project, putting their whole selves in it, to give us the best story, told in the best way they could conceive it. Doing their absolute best. And it feels disrespectful to me, destroying their efforts, just because a few things weren’t the dream come true of my expectations.

On the other hand, and this goes beyond what should be said or discussed, PR strategy is just what it is. And it adds some fun of course but actors have their lives. Although they generously share them with us, play with us, humor the fandom. We don’t have any idea how difficult that must be at times. At yet they do it with a smile of their faces, keeping up the facade even if they might feel unease (which is understandable even if they can play along and laugh about it cause they are professionals and actors to the core). That being said, despite someone might like to fantasize, whatever personal choices or people they love or date, that doesn’t diminish the bonds they create, the chemistry, the affection or the special connection we observe and love so much about them. All of these have fueled their performance, nurture it. And I believe it’s a blessing. Just as much Kanthony was so good because of the great friendship b/w John and Simone. Paraphrasing Benedict, there might be enough love for everyone. To have a special someone and yet loving to bits one of your best friends, who might even be some sort of soulmate or just a what if that nevertheless will never come true. Or maybe not. Everyone is the main character of their own life. Only they can tell. But as a friendly advice, from an older me to my younger self, and to the ones among you feeling off right now, I would say, do learn to separate fiction from reality. Characters from people. Their lives go on just the same. Yours might feel deprived of something that is just in your heads and was never truly yours. You just borrowed someone else’s alleged emotions, picking up glances and smiles, and cute stuff alright but… focus on your life. And take advantage of fiction when it can let you fly high, elsewhere, far way, and get you come back home with a different feeling inside you. Healing or filling whatever hole you felt that needed care and mending.

I want to let it sink in. And go back rewatching season 3 with some more detachment. I gave it 9 out 10 really. I feel so blessed by this tale of love and so grateful for all the fun of the press tour.

Let’s keep having fun.

[official-lucifers-child]

would you consider putting on a performance of A Very Potter Musical to be supporting jk r-wling? no money can be made off it, and she isn't the creator of the show.

ngl i would rather blow my brains out on live tv than have anything to do with jkr. i don’t care if it’s not monetarily supporting her, i would rather put on a show not based in antisemitism and racism and widely attributed to england’s worst person of the century. put on silent sky or something.

because see here’s the thing. you may have all the best intentions in the world, but at this point i don’t think there’s very many trans people who don’t immediately freeze up at the sight of harry potter stuff. i know i do. it’s a subtle sign that someone either doesn’t care about jkr’s horribleness, or they actively support her. either way, trans people are possibly in danger around them. if i saw that a local theatre was putting on a harry potter show i’m not thinking “does this monetarily support jkr?” i’m thinking “alright so i gotta stay as far from that as possible for my own safety”

shows are very public things. am i expecting the audience to be a hotspot of transphobes? not necessarily. am i expecting it to be safe? not even a little bit. yeah maybe it’ll be mostly kids and their parents, but it might be a bunch of jkr supporters who want to come out and see the latest and greatest spinoff of Bigotry: The Fantasy Series.

you picking up what i’m putting down? yeah. just do something else.