#misty writes

[legendofmorons]

Violets, tea, and freckles

Hyrule finally recognizes Wild's magic in food and drink, but he also realizes the source of the champion's magic.

"Drink this," Wild says firmly as he passes a mug of tea to Time.

"I don't -" Time tries to protest only to fall into a cough fit.

"Drink it. You all need it," Wild rolls his eyes as he passes a mug to Sky.

One by one the entire group is given tea, and some if them are more receptive than others.

Wild turns to start dinner, humming the same tune he usually does when he cooks.

Hyrule sips at the tea and nearly startles when it hits his tounge. The tea is a nice mint and chamomile blend, but more than that is the magic that laces so gently into the concoction that the magic is easy to ignore.

The magic is gentle like a soft spring storm, subtle and playful.

The magic races through his system, working to heal Hyrule in a sensationhalf he knows well.

Wild's tea is magic.

Wild's tea is magic in a way that means he put the magic there.

Wild's magic is - Hyrule has never felt his magic like this.

Usually Wild's magic is either the soft pull of a clock with his champion ability or it's the very force of mother nature.

But here? In this tea? Wild's magic is a spring rain storm with hints of something else...

Like this, Wild's magic is easier to identify the origin of. It feels like fairie magic...

Hyrule takes another sip, trying to decide if he's right.

The tea is the same, mint and chamomile that has magic like a spring rainstorm with that hard to identify concept. Something about violets? Freckles?

The magic races through Hyrule's system again, gentle and easy to miss if he were paying even a smidgen less attention.

That really is fae magic.

Wild's magic is fae in nature, and while the gentleness of this particular piece is strange Hyrule thinks a lot if things make sense.

The champion's eldritch like power over nature makes much more sense when viewed under the lens if fae magic. Yes, the fae magic being this strong and borderline eldritch is rare but it makes more sense.

Magic warps and grows over time...

Hyrule can't help but wonder why Wild hasn't told anyone....

Does Wild even know?

[misty-doodles]

Need more Quackity visiting the prison during Technos stay. Need Techno chained to the wall, helpless to do anything but watch him torture his friend.

Need Techno covered in blood that doesn't belong to him and be filled with the unending urge to scrub himself raw to get rid of it. Need Dream so broken and hurt he can only lay on the obsidian as he bleeds, too far away for techno to comfort and in too much pain to come closer. Need his guts spilled across the floor and his screams so fucking loud that it leaves Techno's ears ringing. Need him to suffer for 3 painful months as someone is tormented before him. Do you understand?

[legend-of-morons-after-dark]

Oh god, I don't think I've ever written this kind of thing before. I apologize if it's bad. I'm not sure if I'll write more yandre stuff either, lol. This idea wouldn't leave me alone.

This was written on this blog because yandere content is darker. Nothing graphic though.

I wrote this with a particular feel in mind. I always figured if someone is yandere it would mess with all their relationships, so have... whatever this is.

-------

Okay first if all: my interpretation of this is based on my own thoughts. I think if the chain is yandre for reader they are (platonic!!) Yandere for Eachother. They are family, they don't share with anyone that isn't family. (They can't lose anymore family dear god)

It's easy, to settle into the chain. You aren't a chosen hero but you are quick to patch them up or help with chores.

It starts little.

You notice how oddly protective the chain are over eachother versus others.

You notice how possessive of eachother they are. (No one outside thier group is ALLOWED too close...)

The extra viciousness in Hyrules fighting if one if the others are hurt.

The dark look that crosses Wind's face when someone oversteps Warriors boundaries.

You notice how Time keeps a intimidation air that betrays the violence he's capable of in front of others

They're pleasant enough to outsiders (unless provoked)

They're nice to you. Patient because they remember being pulled inti some adventure they didn't want or plan on

But there's something between the chain that you aren't part of. Yet.

You see it in the way you accident say the wring thing to Hyrule and get growled at by Twilight. You Apologize immediately are already trying to make it up

Then one day there's a shift.

It starts with Wind. He's the most open of the group. He starts dragging you away from people that make you uncomfortable with a dark glare at them

The sailor starts to bring you rocks or trinkets he finds that remind him of you

He brings you a necklace (to mark you as his- as his FAMILY. He can't lose you. He can't let someone think you Aren't his family-)

Wear it. It delights the boy.

The others... are slower but because Wind took a shine to you you are now officially higher up the priorities than like anyone outside the chain. Congrats!

The second to decide you are thiers is Time. It's an accident. He doesn't mean to fall for you he just does- watching you with Wind and watch you in genral-

Time is your's a week after you were claimed by Wind.

The old man is subtler. He's a calm protector at your back who can send creep running with a glance.

He starts to pay lore attention to if you're doing okay mentally.

Time starts to trust you. He trusts you alone. He trusts you with rhe orhers

Time trusts you to start taking watches

He starts placing you at the same level as his boys (and maybe even above as he grows more attached. They are his Family but you? You are his soul-)

Twilight is next to claim you. He falls hard and fast. He dosen’t realize he's decided your his darling until way after.

He starts wrapping an arm around you on the road

You get unlimited Wolfie cuddles

Twilight is always offering to do your chores if you show even a litter discomfort

He's quick to offer you his pelt any chance her gets. He needs you to smell like all of them but also like him

You're thiers. You're his!

Sky and Hyrule come next.

Sky dosen’t fall for you he walks. He walks into love with you.

You're his sun.

His stars

His world

Sky takes to playing music for you on his harp

He's quick to cheer you up with gentle words and warm smiles

He's making sure you have comfortable bedding (why not just use his?

Sky is a cuddler

He stakes a claim over you through your choice. When outside the chain (outside the Family- the only people that matter) he know you will chose him

He gives you one of his loftwing's feathers too. That's special

Hyrule is sweet. He is! He just... is also Fae

Once he Chooses someone as his (in any capacity)... there is nothing that changes his mind. He'd kill for them. Die for them. He would endure torture for them

Hyrule marks you with his magic. He starts to make you Promises (a dangerous game). He Promises to keep you alive.

Hyrule is healing you before anyone else

He will grow your favorite plants

He's very good with poisons :) should you need someone handled

Warriors is next.

The moment he's decided your not just thiers bur his?

He's gifting you anything you stare longingly at

He will lend you his scarf at a moment's notice

He's strategizing to have you far away from danger.

Wars tries so hard to not be obsessive but he is. He IS.

He's trying to get you to use his soaps or lotions

He must get told you appreciate/love him at least 3 times a day for mental health

If someone oversteps around you, or worse tries to take you? Warriors will have thier personal lives torn to shreds with a single rumor

Death is still on the table but he prefers the psychological aspect

Four is next to fall. He's- calm on the outside and intense inside.

He's repairing your things before anyone elses

Wants you to have his kid(s) (or adopt depending on anatomy and your own preferences)... he could live without kids he just thinks you'd be so cute with kids

He will make you jewlry/weapons as a claim

He's got the minish leaving trinkets for you to find on his behalf.

Four is always trying to anticipate your needs

If he needs to... handle someone? Well... they just dissapear.

The colors? Oh the colors.

(Vio and Blue are reserved, they're the ones that handle people. They're sweet but only to the select group that is Thiers.

Green and Red are the ones to comfort you with kisses and words and distract you.)

Legend comes next, having fought against this as long as he can. He dosen’t want another person to lobe who could leave. (His New Familh is enough risk)

Except you're perfect

He's sliding protection rings onto you

He's pressing against you in the cold

Legend let's you do as you please, he returns hugs easily

He's quick to scare off jerks with the look in his eyes

You're his- hishishis--

Legend is just about always teasing you but only playfully (God help anyone else that isn't part of What's His that tries-)

He disposes of pests with fire.

Wild is last. Not because he loves you less but because he is scared about rejection.

He starts making your favorite food on purpose

You get bigger portions if you wnat them

You can have his desert

He will bring you gem stones

Show you fireflies

He has albums and albums if pictures of you

He's fearl, if he has to dispose of someone... it makes the news.

He's going to be clingy he's lost so much what if he forgets you one day?

The chain as a whole decides you ate the most important thing. It's you, then them, then the Zeldas, then thier fitness, then everyone else

And because I think it's a cool dynamic, why not have reader be a little yandre too?

You probably know what they are, that they're like this. So devoted to you

You know that they can't bate to lose the family they made (they have schedules and rules to help mitigate jealousy among them)

How could you not return such devotion?

[mistys-x-reader-emporium]

Bruised violets (Sirius Black)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter! Reader (Jame's sibling)

Rating: T

Fandom: Harry potter/ the marauders

Warnings: implied/ referenced abuse, injuries

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

-------

You like to think that very few things can surprise you these days, between your friend group, prank wars, and an interest in healing- you've seen a lot.

And usually? You're right, most things don't surprise you.

But when you hear a knock on your bedroom door - well, you know something is wrong.

You look up from your book and put your notes aside. "What's up?"

James cracks your door and sticks his head in. He looks scared. "Mom needs you to come downstairs... It's Sirius."

"What?!"

You're on your feet before you can register the words.

"He's run away."

"Oh merlin." You manage with a frown.

James steps aside and you rush past him and down your stairs to the living room. Each step sounds far away and you can barley fathom the passage of time.

Sirius is here. Something is wrong. You're almost positive he's hurt.

(You almost think he's holding something, but that detail is lost to your emotions.)

Your mother kneels over a shaking human form that is slumped in the floor. And your heart shatters.

"Sirius?!" You call, skidding to a stop beside Ephie.

"He's- unconscious... It's a miracle he made it here." Ephie says gently, her eyes clouded as she works on healing him via old wandless magic taught in your family.

"Let me help." You say as you fall to your knees beside her.

You hold your hands out and focus everything you have- everything you have ever had- into healing.

You imagine an unseen hand mending every wrong Sirius has experience. How he will smile at you later.

And you don't feel the tears until you've shaking.

Monty sets a hand on your shoulder, "He's going to he okay. He's healed. He just needs rest, darling."

You look up at Monty, and you can't make words come out.

Ephie stands, and picks Sirius up. "I'll put him to bed."

You watch as your mother takes Sirius up the stairs and to a guest room- but you stay downstairs. You need a minute to breathe.

You are almost positive about what's happened. You know who did this. And you have go remind yourself that you should not go make sure that Walaburga pays.

But the wrath you feel at the knowledge that Sirius is hurt and his mother has caused it... well, it's certainly there.

-------

Sirius wakes up with an ache all over, and someone's arms holding him close. Their face is in his chest, and he can’t imagine who woukd be so close to him.

He blinks away the sleep and then looks down to find you.

Oh.

You're the one holding him - he vaugley remembers your panicked face over him last night.

Sirius readjusts so that he's holding you too.

"(Y/n)." He croaks out, voice only half working.

You stiffen at first. After a moment you look up, finding his face healed. "Sirius?"

"Thank you." He says softly.

"Of course- I'd do anything for you." You say, and the words are frighteningly true.

Sirius just presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Words aren't exactly coming easily to him.

But this feels right.

You just settle back down.

Both of you are happy just to hold eachother for now.

Later, Sirius will look for the violets he brought for you. But for now he's happy to be right here.

[16mistypaw]

@skyloftian-nutcase Thank you for providing comfort stories for me yesterday, here's one for you in return ❤️

-

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60521602/chapters/160702309#workskin

-

Twilight stepped out of his car, keys in hand as he fumbled through the keychain for his house key. He heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and as soon as it opened a furry bundle of energy slammed into his legs. He crouched down, accepting wet doggy kisses and scratching Wolfie's ears.

Time and Malon had mostly taken turns caring for the wolf-dog the past few days, Twilight far too exhausted from an extended work stretch to do much more than greeting scratches before heading to bed to pass out before doing it all over again.

He stood, nudging Wolfie back inside and closing the door behind him. The place was strangely quiet, with Time and Malon at work and Wild gone camping for the weekend with Hyrule. Despite the empty house, the smell of food permeated the air. Malon had been the last to leave for the morning, barely an hour between her leaving and him getting home.

Making his way to the kitchen, he found breakfast in the microwave and an insulated grocery bag on the counter. Tapping the microwave to reheat the food, he checked the bag to see it filled with several packed meals. A beep redirected his attention, grabbing the reheated food to sit and eat. And if his breakfast was shared with the puppy by his feet, Malon didn't need to know. Something about ‘people food is not for animals’ and all that.

Placing his now empty plate in the sink, he grabbed a travel mug and poured the rest of the lukewarm coffee from the pot into it. The bag on the counter was hooked onto one arm, while he wrangled Wolfie into his harness with the other. Then they were off, piling back into the car to make a food delivery.

Time had been reluctant to ask the favor, knowing Twilight would be exhausted after work, but Twilight had easily agreed after they found out that Sky had been sick for several days.

Before long they turned onto the long, narrow drive to Sky's house, and Wolfie perked up in his seat. By the time he brought the car to a stop the puppy was practically bouncing in excitement, knowing whose house they were at. He didn't even bother putting the leash back on, letting Wolfie jump out and race to the door while he gathered his things.

A knock on the door didn't gain any response, even though Time had said he'd let Sky know someone would be over. The door was unlocked though, so Twilight let himself in, Wolfie immediately taking off down the hall. A muffled shout of surprise sounded moments later, and he hurriedly kicked his shoes off on the mat to follow his dog to Sky's room.

“Twi?!” Sky called again, attempting to push Wolfie off him. But Wolfie was large for a puppy, and lay across Sky's back, effectively pinning him.

“Wolfie, down!” Twilight ordered. He was grateful he was training Wolfie to be a therapy dog, because Wolfie obeyed immediately, hopping off the bed to sit beside it instead. “Sorry about that.”

“S'lright.” Sky mumbled, pushing himself over to free his face and look at Twilight. He started coughing, only stopping when he ran out of breath with a raspy wheeze. Twilight helped him sit up, adjusting his pillow so he could sit comfortably against the headboard. Sky continued wheezing, unable to properly catch his breath.

Twilight glanced around, snatched the inhaler off the dresser, and shook it briefly before placing it in Sky's hand. Sky took a moment to steady his breathing as much as he could, then pressed the inhaler to his lips, taking two deep breaths. He held his breath for a moment, coughing again once he released it. It had helped somewhat though, while his breathing was still shallow, it was at least a bit more steady.

“Thanks.” Sky set it aside on the nightstand, which Twilight now realized had an open textbook with a bottle of cold medicine sitting on the pages.

“Yer studying? Like this?”

“Renewal’s coming up soon. Signed up for a class to get my CE's in.”

“Fair enough.” As if their line of work didn't keep them busy enough, they had to keep up with CE's on top of everything else. “Time and Malon send well wishes and lunch.” Twilight reached down to pull a container of chicken and rice from the bag, along with napkins and plastic utensils.

“Oh nice, she made it with broth.” The chicken and chicken broth flavored rice didn't stand a chance as Sky practically inhaled it. Knowing him, he had probably been living off crackers since falling sick.

After lunch and another swig of medicine from the bottle, Sky insisted on trying to study a bit more. So he collected the dishes and trash as Sky pulled the book to his lap. He suspected it would put him to sleep faster than anything else would.

Sure enough by the time he had finished cleaning up, Sky was barely awake, textbook sliding off his lap. The book was gently pulled from loose fingers, and a spare pillow located to lean Sky against in a semi-upright position. Sleeping sitting up wasn't comfortable for anyone, but laying down would only cause the congestion to build up again into another breathing attack.

“Twi?” Sky mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Get some rest.”

With that short exchange Sky somehow managed to nod off while sitting up, Wolfie climbing back onto the bed to lay on Sky's lap. Satisfied Sky would be okay for a bit, Twilight left him to rest, practically collapsing on the living room couch.

Sky wouldn't mind if he crashed here for a bit, and Wolfie would alert him if Sky needed attention. He clumsily pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch, and was out before he knew it.

[misty-groves]

Rewind (here we go again) Prologue

Rating : T

Summary: When Ivy Wayne wakes up in her past, she is given the chance to change things for the better. She takes it because she wants to do better this time.

Warnings: Time travel, multiple timelines, cursing,

Other: Ivy Wayne is an oc, Danny Fenton is Damian's twin

Series masterpost

When given another chance, Ivy Wayne takes it with both hands and runs. She's not unhappy with her life, but she could do better if given a re-do, as most people could. Unlike most people, she seems to get a re-do.

-------

Ivy knew this morning she was going to have a weird day. She woke up with one of those premonition headaches that mean trouble.

Then she went and got into a fight all alone, got gassed, and watched the world turn black.

She wakes up at fourteen in her room, both of her baby brothers in her bed. She's smaller than she remembers, less pain than there should be.

Odd.

Danyl is in the middle, Damian on his right. The twins are asleep in her bed, clinging to eachother and her.

They are safe.

And also apparently four.

This is weird. But she can adjust.

She needs a plan. If she can get a message to her family she can get the all out. Maybe she can speak to mother.

At this point, she can't say. But she knows her mother loves them as much as she can.

She knows that the night she faked her brother's death- her mom asked very few questions.

She needs to send them to their own rooms soon. She supposedly "babies" them far more than she's supposed to. But really, children need affection and love.

She takes another minute or so though. She basks in having both of them here again. She enjoys how warm and real they are.

She misses them at this age- after she faked Danyal's death they never saw him again. She's not even sure he got away. But he escaped their grandfather.

She looks to Damian, who has his little fist bunched up in his twins shirt. He has Bruce's nose- from before the many breaks of their father's nose.

Danyal clings to her, his long lashes rest against his cheek. He has freckles that are faint, but they are there all the same. He has a sharper nose than his twin.

She rouses them gently, whispering words of love before she sends them off. She kisses their heads and smiles softly as they sneak out.

Her boys.

Her baby brothers.

She takes a slow breath as she tries to remember what lead up to this.

There had been the morning headache she's learned is really premonition...

And then...

Ivy had been fighting a new villain before she passed out from a new gas, and then she woke up here. She'd watched the world go black- had someone yelled?

She had been alone though.

Things aren't connecting right- but she's unable to deny the warmth and swell in her heart when she sees her baby brothers so young.

She stands, stretching her arms above her head. She's sore- and her back pulls against long, thick scabs.

She wouldn't say she missed this. The whip always leaves such ugly scars.

So far, her working theory is time travel of some sort or perhaps dimension hopping. But so far it looks like she is familiar enough to not be terrifying for her.

She dresses, strapping weapons to herself as easily as she always has. Growing up with the Bat as her father and the being in the leauge has left her fond of many weapons at all times.

She has siblings to protect.

There is a knock at her door, "Ivy?"

Ivy opens the door, finding her mom. She just tilts her head, "Mother."

"Your training has been pushed forward today, join me in the training room in ten minutes."

"Yes, mother."

Talia dosen’t smile, she doesn't frown either. She just turns on her heel, satisfied with the conversation.

Ivy grabs her own katana, and sweeps down the hallway.

She goes to the kitchens to grab a small hunk of cheese and bread, eating quickly. She's always hated fighting hungry.

She makes it to the training room in time, a whole minute to spare even.

It's laughable, how easy she falls into old habits. She's careful to control her movements, maintaining the hesitancy she remembers from before. She had always been so scared to truly hurt those she loves.

She loses, of course she does, but she dosen’t fail. She lasts a goof twenty minutes before she's beaten. And she could probably win with her honest skill but she's not supposed to have that yet.

"You did better than last time." Talia says as she stares down at her daughter, a bright air around her.

"I have been training."

"It shows." Talia almost smiles, lips twitching as she removes her foot from her daughter's chest, sword falling to the side.

Ivy stands, brushing herself off easily. "I am glad it's noticeable."

Talia just stares at her. Something unreadable passes her face, a funny pinch in her elegant brows.

"You improved so much the span of three days, you doubled your standard time."

Ivy tries her best to stifle the urge to preen at that. She instead tries to figure out a better response than 'whoops'.

She stares at her mother, searching the calm face for help. She takes a slow breath, "I have been training hard?"

It was supposed to be a statement, unfortunately it comes out as a question.

"Try again. The truth this time."

Ivy sighs slowly. The truth? She couldn't say for sure what that is, but her best guess is timetravel. Though how she explains that she doesn't know.

Talia just waits.

"I don't know what caused it... but I would bet money I was sent back into time."

"That makes very little sense."

"I don't know what happened, but yesterday I was twenty and in Gotham. Today I'm fourteen and here."

Talia stares at her, looking as though she wonders if her daughter is loosing her mind. Which would be a fair sentiment.

"You're serious."

"Let's go again, I won't hold back."

"You held back?" Talia snorts.

Ivy just raises a brow. She was holding back, even if she's a little weaker now than she remembers she has far better training and instincts drilled into her mind.

Talia lunges and Ivy dodges. This time, it's quicker paced, each moving with grace and speed deadly to others.

Ivy, ducks, weaves, hits, and uses her powers. She sends bolts of her sheild energy with precision. She beats her mother, seven minutes in.

Foot on her mother's chest, sword to the woman's throat, Ivy smiles. "Do you believe me now, mother?

Talia blinks up at her, looking literally and figuratively floored. "That- is new."

Ivy backs up.

"You said you were in Gotham, was the leauge-"

"I left the leauge when you had to stop grandfather."

"Oh?"

"We need to talk later. I need your help, and our intrests align nicely." Ivy says simply, putting her katana away and folding her arms.

"They do?"

"It protects the boys."

"I see." Talia brushes her self off.

Ivy just watches. She has half of several plans. With a little more time, she'll have solid plans. With a little more time, she'll get them all out.

"Perhaps in a few days we can have tea to discuss." Talia offers.

"If you have time, I would love that."

-------

A week passes before Ivy and Talia are able to truly get away far enough to talk. Really talk.

They settle in a secluded part of Talia's wing, tea steaming on the table.

"You're from the future. "

"A version of it. I need your help to straighten things out."

"How?"

"Grandfather will go too far, he gets to the point he wants Danyal dead and you too. He wants to take all weakness from Damian."

"Oh. Is that so?"

"You lost Danyal in my time. I think you know where I'm going with this."

"Would it work?"

"Of course it would. Dad is protective- and I think we both know I will stop at nothing to protect my brothers."

"I'm not sure-"

"You are no coward, mother. You are not weak or stupid. If you do as I suggest you can avoid the danger to your son's, and gain power."

"Are you so sure you would risk staging a coup? You are far improved, but you are still young."

"I will help plan, but any mutiny is your prerogative. But your children will be safer with you in power and them in Gotham."

"I don’t like that idea of you three so far."

"I don't like the idea of being backed into attending Danyal's funeral. Again."

"Azizi." Talia says, "Tell me, does Bruce raise my boys well?"

"Bruce loves his sons. They're better off living with dad full time, but if you take power and initiative he will be happy to co parent."

"And are you okay to go back?"

"Mother, Gotham is my home."

Talia sighs slowly, "Let me think."

"I will."

"You're very brave, my little moon."

Ivy smiles softly, unrestrained as she does. Her voice is soft, "Thank you, mother."

"You know I could inform father about this, your goading and your knowledge. You should know that conspiracy has a heavy price."

"I do."

"And you took the risk."

"It's for my family, I'll take any risk."

"I'll do it. But it will take time."

"Thank you." Ivy says.

She means it too. She'd expected a harder sell.

Talia just watches her, the woman's green eyes, much too like Damian's. She seems to be searching for something- but Ivy dosen’t know what.

-------

Bruce is surprised to get another letter so soon, usually he only gets letters from his daughter every four months. He just got one last week, so the letter is strange.

Dear dad,

I have a lot to explain, first of all you have two sons mother has kept hidden. They are twins, Danyal and Damian.

Second, mother is working on taking control of the leauge. Which is long over due if I do say so myself, and I do.

Thirdly, my brothers and I will be coming home at a date mother provides later. She needs to focus on the takeover and we will be safer at the manor.

Lastly, I miss you and please tell the others I love and miss them. It has been hard to he far away from you. I have had to make changes to survive in the leauge, and sometimes wonder if you could still accept me.

Anyway, I don’t know when I'll be home but I will be. Mom will tell you more. I'm sorry to dump this all on you, but I wanted to prepare you.

The twins are five, and highly trained for their age. They have been trained by the leaige to be heirs for the last three years and are used to a high station.

I have been their gaurd since I got here, and I think you'll love them. They aren't super well socializedbut they are kind.

Damian has green eyes and loves animals. He's a literal genius who picks things very quickly and is very protective of those he loves. He dosen’t trust easily, and he seems to enjoy art when he can do it.

His favorite colors are green and black, he loves swords, and he would love to have a diagram of any animals. If you're setting up his room, he wants his bed to allow him to see all entrances.

Danyal loves the stars, so much that I've taken time to teach him constellations and their stories. He's a little more trusting and a little softer. He has asked to learn more about space, but I think the books at home will help.

His favorite colors are blue and grey, he loves mythology, and would love to have glow in the dark stars. If you're setting up his room, he likes to have a nest of sorts in the closet to feel safe.

They have been raised only in violence, and taught that killing is not only okay but expected. They have killed, but they don't know better. I have done my best but you know as well as I do that nothing I do will stop what they've been taught. So I've taught them not to be cruel with it. Which is not necessarily enough but better than nothing.

I know this is a lot of information and I'm sorry, I also wish I had more. I'll see you as soon as I can, I love you.

Lots of love,

Ivy

Bruce just stares for a moment or two. The words swim in his mind, knowledge almost choking him with the weight of it.

His baby girl is coming home.

He has twin boys he's never heard of, raised in the leauge. The young children have killed.

His daughter has been in the leauge for two years now, and has possibly killed. She's a gaudd to the heir(s?) Of Ra's.

He can't feel disappointment in the children, circumstances allowed little choice and she has taught them not to be cruel. Which is better than anyone else has done.

He can teach the boys, and he can let his daughter relearn kindness.

He can't believe Talia, hiding all of this. Raising children to kill. Likely forcing his sweet girl to kill, so she survives.

He will not begrudge his daughter, he knows how ruthless the leauge is. It's what she chooses when she's home that will determine things.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asks.

"I have twin boys. And their coming home with Ivy eventually." Bruce turns with wide eyes.

"Oh, dear. I suppose I have rooms to prepare."

"Ivy left information for that." Bruce says, holding out the letter with trembling hands.

"Very good, thank you." Alfred says as he takes it gently in his gloved fiingers.

Bruce let's go with a frown. "Alfred... she's coming home."

"I know."

"Talia hid children from me."

"She did." Alfred says softly. "But you're going to meet them."

--------

Next

[mistysharks]

The Spark (read on ao3) Hellcheer, rated T chapter 4/4

✨🌙💜🐈

Curses, like most types of magic Chrissy’s encountered, can come in just about any form. Take the intent from the caster, and the imagination of the afflicted, with a dash of whatever sits in the general zeitgeist of the time, and you end up with a… thing. Sometimes it's a dagger, its poisoned hilt buried deep in the walls of the mind. Sometimes it's a mirror, showing you things you wish you’d never seen. Once, it was a grimy looking mini-fridge. She’s still not sure what that one had been about.

Eddie's curse looks more like a wound. A pulsating red light emerging from a dark gash, sat deep in a mass of thorny black branches. Tendril-like, those branches had slithered across the grass turned leafy forest floor, leading them there after they stepped out of that last memory.

They come to a stop at the foot of the nest of thorns, and Eddie's hand is big and strong in hers once more. 

“What do we do now?” Eddie asks, his voice only a little hoarse after screaming at the wind.

“We break it,” she says before turning to face him, his features visible now in the red gloom. “I’m going to need your help, though” 

Continue reading on Ao3

[starshineandbooks]

Bottom of the river (hold my hand) Chapter one

This is my ode to red vs. blue. This show has given me a lot. It's been something my dad liked to do something I liked. It's always going to be in my heart, and one day, I hope that I too, can be a gay robot.

As requested, here is your tag @the-team-sucks

Rating: T

Pairing: Grimmons, Tuckington, Docnut, oc x oc

Summary: Thanks to something Sarge has made in the future, the Sim troopers and their freelancers have to deal with their kids from the future. The kids are split up evenly between the Sim troopers, and the two chorus armies are hopeful about their new recruits.

Warnings: cursing, time travel, Canon divergent, time travel

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know. Not beta we die like Church.

Word count: 3,202

Masterpost

-------

Simmons dosen’t know what to make of the news Kimball wants to share. There has been no progress in retrieving their comrades from the enemy.

He has no clue what the news could even be to call for only him, Grif, Tucker, and Caboose. Are their teammates dead?

He hopes not.

Simmons arrives first, to the surprise of no one. He enters the meeting room and takes a seat. He can wait.

He's used to waiting.

Kimball comes in next, and her armor is polished more than usual. She must be worried about something.

Although in a war, who isn't?

"Simmons," Kimball says curtly.

"Ma'am."

"Where are the others?"

"I don't know."

"They're late."

As if on cue, Caboose comes in, dragging Grif. The blue-clad soilder towers over the man he drags.

Caboose lets go of the orange armored soilder once they're by the meeting table.

"Man, I don't wanna be here." Grif groans loudly as he flops down beside Simmons.

His head is thrown back as he stares at the ceiling for a moment.

"I'm ready to meet santa!" Caboose declares.

"It's too early for this shit." Grif groans lowly.

"It's three in the afternoon," Simmons says with a scandalized look.

"So?"

"Where's Tucker?" Kimbal sighs.

"Who knows. Let's just get this started." Grif flops onto the table.

"Yeah, party!" Caboose cheers.

"No, Caboose, no party." Kimball sighs.

Simmons glances around, trying to find clues for what's going on. He just needs to know. What if it's news that the others are dead?

He just-

Simmons just needs to be prepared for the fallout.

"Can we come out yet?" A voice calls from what might be a closet.

"No." Kimball calls sharply, sounding as if this is the umpteenth time she's answered this question.

"You can't keep us locked in a closet that's really homophobic!" Another voice calls. "Like what the fuck lady?!"

"Please stop yelling." Kimball sighs slowly.

There's some rude grumbling from the closet. And then there's a thud followed quickly by a groan.

"What is this about?" Simmons asks again, trying to keep any petulance from his voice.

"I'll tell you once Tucker arrives."

Grif just mutters something that's likely rude. His gaze lingers on the table.

Tucker comes in, "What's going on, Kimball?"

"Timetravel."

No one can see her face from behind her visor but the tone of voice is so serious you'd think she was announcing a death.

"Fucking what?" Tucker asks.

Because this has to be a joke. The universe loves to fuck with the Sim troopers!

"I hear them all I'm coming out!" Calls the second voice.

"Lani wait!" A third voice urges.

Out of the closet comes a teenage girl with dark shoulder length curls and plenty of attitude. She's got her arms crossed.

She stands out more than the attitude, though. She's dressed in casual clothing. Ripped jeans, a graphic t shirt. She looks - like a true civilian.

"Guys!" The teen- Lani calls behind her sharply.

"Stop yelling we're right here." A teen with long brown hair sighs. His height is almost intimidating, but his easy going nature helps.

He too is dressed in casual clothes. A Spiderman shirt screams his lack of military status.

"Yeah, chill out, Lani." Says the third voice as a dark skinned teen with close cropped hair emerges.

This one too is dressed casual, converse with shitty doodles and a teal plaid flannel.

Holy shit.

These three kids really might be from the future.

"Shut up." Lani snarks immediately, "I don't have to listen to you two."

"I'm older than you." The tall boy grins.

"You'll just go grey first."

"Someone explain what's going on here," Tucker urges, trying his level best to make sense of the teenz.

"Oh, hey dad!" The boy with close cropped hair waves.

"Did you just call Tucker dad?" Simmons gapes from inside his helmet.

"You don't have room to say jack shit papa." Lani levels evenly. Her gaze intense as she turns it to the cyborg.

Grif starts laughing. His body shakes as he looks between the three teenagers. This is too fucking good.

Next, the tall one will claim to be Caboose's kid! That would be really rich.

"Ha! Simmons, you have a kid!" Grif is laughing again

"You do too, dad." Lani levels her gaze to Grif, "Or did you think papa's pale ass had me all alone?"

Tucker gives a snort, "She's got you there, dude."

"Wait- he's your- and I-" Simmons is blushing so hard he short circuits.

"This is going well." The tall teen says.

"Let's start with introductions." Kimball says, "And maybe try not to short circuit captain Simmoms."

"I'll go first. I'm Zach James, my momma is Kitty Caboose-James. Caboose is my uncle. He helped raise me." The tall teen with the long brown hair says.

"I have a nephew!" Caboose gasps, "This is great news! I can be a ghost uncle!"

"Almost." Tucker says, patting Caboose's shoulder.

"How the fuck would he be a ghost uncle?" Grif asks Simmons under his breath.

"I don't know." The maroon soilder sighs, "ignore it."

"I'm Ben Tucker, I don’t know where the others ended up." The boy in plaid gives a half hearted shrug.

"Others?" Grif manages, sounding only the appropriate amount of strangled.

"You're my kid?" Tucker asks.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "And we're missing our other friends."

"I'm Lani Grif-Simmons." Lani gives a smirk, "I get my good looks from my auntie Kai."

"Oh fuck, Kai's an aunt?" Tucker asks, the realization follows a dawning horror.

"Go back. Who are the others that you're missing?" Simmons asks.

"Oh. Uh, Aspen, Cassie, and Violet."

"Who are they?" Tucker tilts his head.

"Cassie's my twin." Ben volunteers helpfully.

"Aspen is Carolina's kid. They're pretty chill." Zach shrugs.

"Violet is Doc and Donut's special little princess." Lani shrugs.

"Wait, Doc and Donut hooked up?" Simmons blinks.

"That makes the most sense out of everything." Tucker says. "I guess Wash didn't have kids."

"About that." Ben says.

"No." Tucker says quickly, "He had kids?!"

"Oh my fucking god." Lani groans, "I didn't believe dad when he told me about the dumb ass pining."

"I know." Zach pats her shoulder. He seems unbothered by this.

"Excuse me. There are more of you?" Kimball asks. She sounds annoyed.

"Probably ended up wherever the others are." Simmons speculates, "If you guys are here."

"So there are more captives of the enemy? That's not great." Kimball sighs. "We need to work harder."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Those army people don't have our friends, our friends have them." Ben grins.

"You don't think Vi's going to embrace the violent side, do you?" Lani asks, looking like she hopes the violent side is in fact embraced.

"Who knows." Zach sighs, shaking his head.

"So wait, hang the fuck on. We have kids, who time traveled, and some of those kids are being held captive? What the fuck man?" Grif sounds outraged. Because seriously, what the fuck did they do to the universe?!

"Come on, keep up man." Tucker shakes his head.

"My nephew is a space pirate!" Caboose declares.

"No, Uncle Mikey." Zach says evenly. "I'm a college student."

"How- old are you guys?" Simmons frowns.

"I'm nineteen." Zach shrugs.

"Seventeen." Lani says.

"Eighteen." Ben smiles.

Kimball clears her throat, "These three have generously agreed to help us fight-"

"Absolutely not." Tucker and Simmons snap in unison. Both sounding firm in their words.

"And who's going going to stop us?" Lani challenges. Her crossed arms and challenging gaze mark her as too much personality.

"I am your father, you are not fighting." Simmons says sharply.

"I'm fighting, and you can suck my dick."

"Lani." Zach chides.

"You are grounded!" Simmons snaps.

"You haven't even had me yet. What do you know about parenting?"

"I know I should let my kid fight a war!"

"I'm fighting, papa. And if you try to stop me I'll castrate you."

"Definitely your kid." Simmons says to Grif.

"I know, I'm so proud." Grif pretends to wipe away a tear.

"Yeah, you're not fighting Ben." Tucker crosses his arms.

"I am though. They have my sister that kind of takes precedence over listening."

"See? Ben gets it." Lani pats his shoulder.

"You're not fighting." Grif says, "Simmons is right."

"What the fuck ever." Lani rolls her eyes.

"We'll talk about this later." Tucker says, "all of you. But we have other things to focus on. Like, what are you doing here?"

"How the hell should we know? I was messing with something, and then we're on the floor." Lani throws her hands up in a 'what can you do?' sort of motion.

"Definitely, your kid." Tucker says, looking to Grif and Simmons.

"I know." Grif says, unfamiliar pride wlling in his chest.

"I know." Simmons says, very familiar dread wells up in his chest. What kind of baby could he raise? His own father was so awful... he hopes he isn't like his dad.

"Obvious genetics aside," Zach says, already used to the way the Sim troopers are, thanks to being raised around them. "We should really focus on what happens from here."

"Do we get to talk to our future selves?!" Caboose demands, "I want to know where I lost that Easter egg!"

"Caboose." Tucker says firmly.

"Can we maybe see where we're sleeping?" Zach suggests, "It's been a long day."

"Yes. Your rooms. I've put all three of you in one room."

"What?!" Simmons and Grif demand.

"Well, I don't want them in general population barracks, but they aren't high ranking enough for their own rooms."

"You put out daughter in a room with two boys?!" Grif demands, flashbacks of horror stories in his head.

"Dad, ew." Lani says with a look of pure disgust. "Ben and Zach are like my brothers."

"I know what teen boys are like." Grif scoffs.

"Hey, I promise I raised my kid better." Tucker defends.

"I'm going to fucking scream." Lani says sharply, looking like she very well might hold good on the threat.

"Please don't." Zach says, "Kimball can we go to our room?"

"Yes. Your room is three down from Tucker's."

"I'll show you!" Caboose declares.

"Thanks." Ben says.

"We'll all show you!" Simmons villunteers.

"Jesus fucking chrsit." Lani sets her face in her hands. She wonders what she has to do to get the others back as soon as possible.

"You're just upset that Cassie isn't here." Ben snickers.

"Shut up."

"You miss Cassie."

"I hate you."

Ben and Zach share a look. Neither is bothered. Honestly, they're both amused.

The Sim troopers leave the meeting room, guiding the teens down the halls and towards their room.

Lani trails after the others. Her arms don't uncross, and her gaze lingers everywhere.

When they arrive at the room, she immediately claims one of the top bunks. Sighting that she likes to feel tall.

Simmons leaves as soon as he's seen the room. He doesn't know how to father. What if he makes a mistake? What if he ruins a relationship he should have yet?

Grif just waves grumbling threats to the boy's before leaving.

Tucker pats Ben on the shoulder, "You find me if you need anything."

Caboose says something about going to find flowers for his new friends before leaving.

Ben takes the other top bunk, and Zach takes the bottom bunk under Ben.

Lani just curls herself up between Ben and Zach. She just wants to seek safety, and these two are safe.

Their parents don't know them they've volunteered to fight a war. And they're missing half their friend group.

And if she's honest, it's her fault they're here.

Lani should have known better than to mess with someone Sarge built. But here they are.

Zach rubs her back slowly, "We're right here, Lani. Right here."

"Yeah. I know."

"Should we sing?" Ben grins.

"Please don't." Lani laughs softly.

"You don't plan to act like a bitch the whole time, do you?" Zach tilts his head.

"Fuck you." She says, no bite present. And for all her bark, all her attitude, she is really just glad she's not alone.

"We're going to be okay," Zach says, sitting up slowly.

"Zee's right, you know," Ben agrees, stretching out on his side.

"Can I braid your hair, Zach?" Lani asks.

And Zach agrees. For two reasons.

The first reason is because he likes the feeling of someone's fingers in his hair, it soothes him.

The second reason is because braiding seems to bring Lani peace.

-------

Doyle stands before the Sim troopers and freelancer, trying to figure out how to explain the situation. After all, everything is very different.

"What do you know about time travel?" He asks.

"Not enough." Wash sighs slowly.

"Okay... well, uh- I have a surprise?"

"Go on!" Donut urges, "You have me on the edge!"

"Come in." Doyle calls over his shoulder.

The door opens, and three teens stroll in. The tallest has a red pixie cut. The shortest has dark skin and long locs. The middle height teen has bubblegum streaked curls.

"Oh my god." The shortest teen groans.

"These are your children. From the future." Doyle manages.

"What?!" Wash and Donut manage.

"I have no kids!" Sarge says quickly, he doubts he'd have kids later. He's already kind of old!

"We know, Sarge." Says the teen with streaked curls.

"Uh- hi?" The tall one waves, "I'm Aspen."

"Who's kid are you?" Wash asks.

"Carolina's."

"Oh."

"I'm Cassie Tucker." The short one explains, "Hey dad."

"Me?" Wash blinks.

"Yes, you." Cassie snorts, seemingly amused by her father's cluelessness.

"Oh."

"I'm Violet Dufranse! I'm Donut and Doc's kid."

"My baby!" Donut cries, sounding every bit the theater kid he probably was.

"Hi, Daddy!" Violet waves cheerily.

"This is all kinds of weird." Wash mutters.

"Oh chil, dad. Ben, Zach, and Lani aren't here. Wait- where are they?" Cassie turns her attention to Aspen quietly.

"Uh- probably with our other adults?"

"Wait, there's more of you?" Wash asks. Feeling genuine dread in his heart. Their other teammates had kids?

"Course there are, crafty aliens always have friends!" Sarge snaps.

"Yeah, there's more." Cassie rolls her eyes. "There's Lani Grif-Simmons, Zach, who's Caboose's nephew, and my brother Ben."

"Grif and Simmons have a kid?" Sarge asks.

"That makes a lot of sense!" Donut declares, "They spend so much time together."

"They had a nice wedding." Violet adds with a hum. "The pictures make it look beautiful."

"Pictures?!" Donut gasps loudly, "You have to show me!"

Violet is reaching for her phone, more than ready to show off the pictures. Unfortunately, Cassie just shakes her head, muttering something that makes Violet sighs.

"Guys." Aspen says, "We have to focus. Where are the others?"

"I don't know. But how much trouble can they get into?" Cassie asks.

"Are you serious?" Violet looks to the shortest with a look of confusion. "Lani and Ben are being let loose without any authority the respect."

"Whatever Vi, they have Zach with them. It won't be that bad."

"This is a nightmare." Apsen groans.

Washington looks between Sarge and Donut, wondering where Lopez is. But really, what could the robot do?

He's inclined to agree with Aspen. This has all the makings of a nightmare. He has twins. He has twins with Tucker.

Okay, the Tucker part isn't too bad.

Wash really doesn't mind Tucker. If he's going to be honest about his feelings, and he hates that, he's a little too fond of the aquamarine soilder.

"These young adults have graciously volunteered to help us fight the rebels so we can rescue your friends." Doyle says as he gestures to the time travel trio.

"No." Washington says firmly. "No way in hell."

There's a second of silence, while all three teens stare him down. But he's not budging on this one. He is not letting these three fight.

"Yes. I promise the rest of our group is going to fight. We're not letting them fight alone." Violet is shrugging, looking for all the world like she's just suggested tea.

"Aren't you anti violence?" Cassie frowns.

"I'm anti needless violence. If I can't talk my way out, I can fight."

"This is great and all, I'm happy to meet my new red rookie, but we aren't getting any fighting done like this!" Sarge crosses his arms.

"Can we talk about this later? It's been a long-. How long have we been awake?" Aspen looks around, trying to make sense of time.

"I don't know. I'm more worried about the look on Kai's face when we left." Cassie admits, "Here's hoping she ends up with Lani and not us."

"It's all going to be fine," Violet assures quickly.

"Yeah, you'll see. You're surrounded by big, strong men, we'll be right behind you, and you just tell us what you need." Donut chimes in quickly, sounding a little too excited.

"Thanks, dad!" Violet chimes happily.

"Okay, can someone show us where we'll be sleeping?" Aspen cuts in.

Doyle nods, mostly to himself. He needs to get this show on the road. He has a strategy meeting in ten minutes.

The genral straightens to his full height. "I've put you three in a room across from Washington and Donut."

"Thank you," Aspen says evenly.

Doyle just nods. "Woukd you guys show the new recruits to their room?"

"Absolutely!" Sarge is standing now. He's very fast.

There's some bickering, but after a minute, Sarge is leading the entire group minus Doyle through the halls.

They make it to the teens' new room, and Wash is kind enough to check the perimeter. He dosen’t know a lot about parenting, but he figures he should make sure there's no lurking enemies. That sounds like good parenting.

Aspen shows the Sim troopers and Washington off, claiming that they have it all covered.

And then Violet is trying to get reassurance that things are really going to be okay.

-------

In the future, the Sim troopers are staring at the charred device and floor with mounting horror. They just watched their kids disintegrate.

"Ah fuck." Tucker groans lowly.

Grif turns a glare to Tucker. His acusing presence should freeze over hell. "My daughter just disintegrated and all you have is 'ah fuck'?!"

"Okay now calm down gentlemen." Sarge reassures, "They ain't dead."

"Good." Doc says, looking like he might hyperventilate.

"It sure looks like they are!" Grif snaps, throwing his hand to the side, "But do tell. How do six teens survive being disintegrated?!"

"They're in the past numb nuts." Tucker says, pushing Grif's hand away from him.

"How do you know?!" Simmons demands, whirling on the retired blue.

"Uh guys, shouldn't someone go after them?" Kai asks.

Unfortunately, no one registers her words. She sighs, deciding to go pack a bag. If their parents can't get their shit together, Auntie Kai will just have to go help.

That sounds like a great plan.

Kai leaves, missing out on the part of the conversation where the others insult each other, oh, and remember that the time travel device sent them to a war.

If she had heard that, she wouldn't have packed so many condoms.

-------

Chapter two

[schneesisterss]

women reverting to girls in their most vulnerable moments

[legendofmorons]

If you're up for it, could I please request The Chain comforting a heartbroken gn!reader after losing their beloved cat who they've had since they were a child?

Of course I can. I hope you're okay, losing a beloved pet is always awful.

Comfort

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Summary: After you lose your childhood cat, the boys work together to help you feel even a smidgen better.

Warnings: pet loss, grief,

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

You look over from where you've curled yourself in bed when someone comes in. You're out of tears for now but that dosen’t change the drowning in grief.

Twilight is approaching with soft steps. "Hey, do ya want more blankets?"

You swallow hard, searching for any kind of response. You give a slow nod. "Please?"

The rancher nods, "Of course. Wild's makin' ya somethin' warm to drink too... Do ya want company?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, well, I'll get ya that blanket. Hang on."

You watch Twilight retreat and you turn back to stare up at the ceiling.

The ceiling isn't particularly interesting but with blurring vision it's better than what's going on in your mind.

Twilight comes back with Wild and Four into, blanket in his arms.

Wild carries a mug of hot chocolate, his demeanor soft.

Four just smiles a little, "Hey. You want anything else?"

"Don't leave me alone?" You request.

It feels silly, asking for then to stay, but you just want company. You can't keep staring at the ceiling.

"Okay. Do you want the others too?" Four asks.

Wild approaches you with the mug.

You nod, "Please."

Four gives a soft smile before he goes to get the others.

Twilight and Wild help you situate yourself on the bed for prime cuddle puddle behavior before sitting on your left.

"Ya know we'll listen if ya wanna talk, don't ya?" Twilight asks you gently.

"I know."

He lifts his arm in silent invitation, which you take readily.

Leaning into Twilight's side is easy. Soaking in his warmth is nice. You rest your cheek against his shoulder and sigh.

"We're sorry," Wild says, "Loss is never easy."

"I - I knew it was coming... I just... I thought I had longer," You manage to whisper out.

Twilight pulls you a little closer. "I'm sorry. That's hard, 'n there's no magic button to fix it..."

"We're here for you, though," Wild adds. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks."

Four comes back with the others in tow. The shortest leading the group onto the bed.

Sky sits against your left, Time takes the spot closest to the door, and the others fill in the group.

There's no real talking for a good while, just comfortable and accepting silence.

You can't find it in yourself to move.

"You know... I always heard that your loved ones live on in your heart," Hyrule offers.

"Maybe..." you sigh.

Sky smiles softly, "We're right here."

"I'm just - I love that cat more than I can explain... they've been there for most if not all of my life..." you whisper into heavy air.

Hyrule squeezes your hand and Four offers a sad smile.

"Take all the time you need," Time says, "We're here."

"I'm... I'm tired of being awake," You say.

"Then sleep," Sky says. "We're here."

"We'll be here as long as you want," Warriors says firmly. "Whiteville you need."

"Don't leave me alone while I sleep."

"We won't," Wild assures.

"If ya want, Wolfie cane be here?" Twilight offers.

"Maybe later. Right now... it's nice to just not be alone."

"Do you want a distraction before bed?" Legend asks.

"Can... I know it's silly, but can you tell me about something good?" You request.

"Did I tell you about the day I met Wolfie?" Wild asks.

The boys take turns telling you happier stories, allowing you something to focus on that isn't the thick grief. They take turns offering bad jokes.

If in a few days you want to talk, they will listen.

If you want to cuddle Wolfie? He's there.

Your favorite meals are made more frequently by Wild.

Warriors and Time are always making sure that if you want space it's respected.

Wind is right there to lighten the mood if you want it.

Legend and Sky are willing to just sit with you so you aren't alone even if you don't want to talk.

Hyrule and Four are always trying to hand you little trinkets to help cheer you up.

None of this takes away your loss. It won't change things... but you're love and care for. There's support and acceptance.

[misty-doodles]

So like take your age old "what if Philza didn't activate the stasis chamber in time and Quackity actually put the pickaxe through Techno's teeth" scenario, but I get my hands on it.

So obviously this would be sad Techno whump bc he's just lost a cannon life, but we can make this a horrible time for everyone involved.

"Technoblade has been slain by Quackity using [Wardens Will Braker]"

Immediately confusion and shock rings out across the server as the message appears, because Techno had been wrongly and privately imprisoned. While the server doesn't necessarily like him as a whole, they certainly don't think he's as bad as Dream (i.e., deserving of prison).

The Syndicate is horrified and furious all at once. Not only were they unaware of Techno's imprisonment, they can't begin to fathom how Quackity got his hands on Sam's weapons and the ability to kill their friend. More importantly, Techno is down a canon life and has been made permanently half blind, though the shock of it all has sent him into a early hibernation.

Philza... He'd been just about to trigger the stasis chamber when he received the message. His hand hovered over the trap door, heart in his stomach as he read and reread the message. He'd been just a few moments too late. He was too late and his best friend died. Oh, he was going to find Quackity and Sam and he is going to tear them limb from limb. He was going to make Doomsday look like a creeper crater in comparison.

Sam and Quackity are frantic. Sam spends a good while berating Q for his idiocy, How could he be so stupid to kill Techno with his named weapon? Now the entire server is going to be on their asses and they're completely fucked. Sam has to physically restrain himself so he doesn't kill Quackity straight up. They'll need to flee, to run as far away as possible because Philza Minecraft will have their heads. Before they can do that, however, they'll need to deal with their remaining prisoner.

Dream... Dream was just plain scarred. He watched his only hope of freedom die graphically before him. Oh who is he kidding anymore. His one comfort and last remaining friend died and there was nothing he could do to save him. Now he's vulnerable, and even if he understands that there's no way Techno's coming back for him now, it fucking hurts. Worst still, he's left at the mercy of Sam and Quackity, who will either kill him outright, or drag him somewhere he'll never escape from.

He's yet to figure out which outcome is worse

[legend-of-morons-after-dark]

Hi there 🙋‍♀️

I hope your -ber months are going well where ever you live. I wanted to tell you first that I’ve been a fan of your writing for a while now. I read on both of your blogs and froth at the mouth every time you post. I have an idea and if you could grace us with some head cannons for this, I would start a new religion in your name 🙏

My request: The chain treats reader like a pillow princess, but reader just want to treat their good boys every once in a while. Reader does their best to find little moments to treat their boys.

- Love 🌻

Okay I'm so sorry this took so long (like a year I'm sorry) but I can absolutely do that!

Kinks/ content: riding, blow jobs/ face fucking, hand jobs, whining

Treats for Good Boys

The boys adore you, worship you even. When they have time to please you they don't want you lifting a finger.

They just want to watch you come undone for them, laid out all pretty.

And while being treated like a pillow prince(ss) is great sometimes, sometimes, instead of being worshiped, you just want to treat your boys as well as they treat you

It's a little harder than it sounds since your boys are all stubborn heroes.

Four takes some convincing, but if you push a little, he'll give in. He's a sucker for you.

Pull him into your lap and kiss along his neck while you let him squirm a little.

Guide him through grinding against your thigh, moving his hips for him

Help him find friction and relief as you help him

He'll start rutting against you after a while, groaning long and low as he let's you slow his hips back dow

Help him seek friction in the grinding, guide him and praise him

Nip at his throat

When he comes it's all moans and pleas

He's going to let you start treating him more.

Hyrule is easier to convince than most. He just wants you to be happy and feel good, so if you really truly want to do the work for once, he won't argue as long as you get pleasure, too

Take him away from the group and tell him how sweet and good he is while you jerk him off.

Let him burry his face in your neck and whine while you work him over

He'll hump into your hand, babbling as it goes on

When he comes he's all sweet and pliant

He will pay you back later but make sure you tell him he's good and you cuddle him after too

If you really want to treat him sink to your knees after he comes and lick him clean

Clean him up slowly with your mouth, he'll start whimpering.

Suck him off while holding his hips still, the overstimulation drives him wild

Swallow him down until he comes and then swallow that too

After you get him dressed again, He's thanking you and promising you a good time later.

Legend is a stubborn ass but if you straddle him and grind down while asking him to let you do the work he will break.

Ride this man.

Get him under you and ride him

Stop anytime he thrusts up because he's not supposed to work

Ride him and milk desperate sounds from him as his hands paw at your hips.

All he wants is to seek release at this point, milk his ass dry

You can probably go a good two rounds minimum, watching you bounce yourself on his cock as him dazed

He... will definitely let you do this again.

Sky is also fairly easy to convince. Get on your knees and bat your eyes up at him -

Man is letting you fish his cock out in moments.

Suck him off, get that cock in your mouth and show him a good time

Hold his gips down while you take his whole length

Look up at him through your lashes as you swallow around him

Let him come across your chest with a whimper

Time takes more convincing but if you pull him aside and propose riding him he's down.

Get this man on his back, balancing with your hands on his chest as you fuck yourself down on him

He can't try to worship you if you're bouncing on his cock while he groans and tries to think straight

He'll come with a moan, gripping your hips tightly

He... is more willing to let you treat him after this.

Twilight, good luck, but once you finally get him to let you treat him and do the work , oooooo boy

Have this man against a wall while you make out and jerk him off

He's groaning while you suck at his neck and strike him

He bucks into your hand while coming undone and moans.

Shut him up with some kisses while he comes apart for you

He comes apart quicker than either of you expect, unused to letting you make him feel goof

He's a whiny mess at the end, but he's pulling you over and thanking you.

He'll do it again muchbeasier next time.

Warriors won't fight you, but he will struggle to let you once you start.

Let him fuck your face while you suck him off, hands gripping the back of your neck/ hair.

Hips bucking helplessly as he tries to sneak a leg between your thighs to make you feel good too-

He is all high moans and soft whines while you work him over

Grip his thighs, squeeze them while he fucks your throat

He's gone so fast- coming down your throat and keeping when you swallow him down

Wild will try anything once. So when you bring it up and you say you're sure you want to try, he's game

Push him onto his back and straddle his hips

Ride this man into the bed/floor while he whines and keens underneath you

He's writhing while you bounce on his cock, hands gripping your hips while he bucks up into you helplessly

It's just so good-

He comes with a high needy whine of your name, letting you milk him for all he's worth

Boneless, he smiles up at you a little lost

Sweet thing's just discovered he likes letting you treat him.

[16mistypaw]

I borrowed the lovely @skyloftian-nutcase Healthcare boys for a short thing I wrote while feeling miserable from a flu shot reaction. Featuring a feverish Sky, a concerned Legend, and father figure Time.

The song in this fic is There Will Be a Day by Jeremy Camp. I had that song stuck in my head while writing this

---

Legend walked into the staff break room, heading to his locker to grab a new handful of pens to stuff in his pocket. He still didn’t know how he could start the shift with a full pocket, and have none left when he was barely halfway through.

Someone sat at the table, resting their head face down on their crossed arms. All he could make out was the fluffy, dirty blonde hair and rumpled uniform. A white cloth with blue highlights poked out from where it rested between arms and face, and Legend recognised it at Sky’s beloved scarf.

“Sky.” A muffled grunt was the only acknowledgement he received. “There’s better places to take a nap. Like home, didn’t your shift end a while ago?”

“Yea. Jus’ needed a minute.” Sky replied, lifting his head. The pilot’s face was flushed and damp with sweat, his expression more tired than usual. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on Legend.

“Are you sick?” Legend asked, straight to the point. “You look feverish.”

“Not sick, yes I have a fever. Flu shots suck.”

“Ah. The traveling cart found you huh?”

“Yeah, this morning. They asked if I got it, I said no, so they did it. Kinda hard to refuse at that point.” Sky plopped his face back into his scarf, energy seemingly spent. “I should head home.”

“Yeah, you should. Go sleep it off.” Sky sighed, then heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, grabbing the back of the chair to steady himself. Then he straightened up, brushing past Legend to grab his clothes from his locker before heading to the changing room.

Deciding to keep an eye on Sky for a little longer, Legend busied himself straightening up the breakroom as he waited for Sky to return. He returned a few minutes later, grabbing his bag and then just… stopped, staring blankly at it for a moment before snapping out of it and gathering his stuff.

Legend didn’t like that.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think you’re okay to drive, spacing out like that. Can anyone give you a ride?”

“Ah, the rest of my team went home a while ago… and the rest of you guys are either still working or at home sleeping.”

“When does Time finish today?” Legend knew Time had a soft spot for Sky, and had on more than one occasion taken the young man home with him when he was unwell.

“In like,” Sky checked the clock on the wall, brain stalling on trying to read the hands before checking his phone instead. “An hour?”

“Come on.” Legend took Sky’s bag, prompting him to follow as they left the break room. He pulled his phone out with his other hand while they walked, sending a message to Time. Sky didn’t question where they were going, until Legend led him down a hallway he wasn’t familiar with.

“You’re going to rest in one of the empty on-call rooms until Time is done. Then you’re going with him and sleeping this off.” Legend nudged him inside, placing Sky’s bag beside one of the beds. Sky sat on the mattress without protest, still holding his scarf in his arms as he lay down. He was out almost instantly.

Legend turned the main light out, leaving just the small lamp on the nightstand. He paused in the doorway for a moment, looking Sky over once more, before closing the door and hurrying back to his unit.

~~~

The knock on the door didn’t wake Sky, nor the light being turned on. Time gently shook Sky’s shoulder, and after a few moments the younger man blinked blurry eyes open.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Time asked.

Sky stared at him, processing, then, “Like crap. ‘Not exempt because it’s not an allergy’ my ass. Not all reactions are from allergies.”

“Yeah, that’s frustrating.” Time agreed. “Let’s get you home. You’re off tomorrow, right?” Sky only nodded in response, picking up his things and following Time out the door. The walk to the parking garage was short but tiring, and Sky gratefully slipped into the passenger seat, resting his head against the cool window. The rumbling of the engine nearly lulled him back to sleep, but random thoughts kept drifting in, keeping him awake.

“Have you ever thought about why our jobs exist?” Sky suddenly asked. Time glanced over, surprised at the unexpected question.

“Because people get sick and hurt?”

“Yeah, but like. Why?” At this point Time decided to just let the boy ramble, curious as to where his fever-addled mind was wandering.

“I mean, why do people get sick? Why do bad things happen? Because people made it that way. Those things weren't supposed to happen. The world was made perfectly. And then humans went and ruined it. We live in a fallen world of our own making. If that didn't happen, there would be no reason for what we do.”

“And yet here we are, making the best of what we've got in this fallen world.” Time replied. Sky didn't respond, and for a moment Time wandered if he'd fallen asleep. After a few minutes, he was surprised to hear Sky start singing softly.

“There will be a day, with no more tears,

no more pain, no more fears

There will be a day,

when the burdens of this place,

will be no more

Troubled soul don't lose your heart

‘Cause the joy and peace He brings,

and the beauty that's in store,

outweighs the hurt of life's sting.

But I hold onto this hope,

and the promise that He brings,

that there will be a place with no more suffering”

Sky trailed off as the car came to a stop, realizing Time had brought him to his place instead of taking him home.

“Come on, let's get you to bed.” Time steadied him as he stepped out of the car, leading him inside and to the guest room that was unofficially his. Everything was just as he had left it, making it easy to settle in for the night. Time left briefly, returning with a bottle of water, medicine, and something wrapped in a small towel.

Sky accepted the water and fever medicine, before laying down in bed. The towel wrapped object turned out to be an ice pack, which felt amazing on his hot skin. Something small and soft was tucked against him, and he was mildly embarrassed to see it was the worn red bird plush Sun had made for him many years ago.

“I don't need a plushy.” Sky protested. “I'm not a kid.” Despite his words, he held the treasured toy against his chest.

“There's nothing wrong with you having a stuffed animal. Just because you're an adult, that doesn't mean you can't have things like this, especially if it's something that brings you comfort.” Time shook out Sky's oversized scarf, draping it over him like a blanket. “Get some rest. I'll be down the hall, so just call if you need anything.”

Time flicked the lights out as he left, leaving the door cracked in case Sky called for him. He didn't think that would be necessary though. He could already hear soft snoring as Sky slept the fever away.

[quotefeeling]

Know that you can start late, look different, be uncertain and still succeed.

Misty Copeland

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[mistysharks]

The Spark (A Hellcheer fic)

🔮✨🌙🍵🫖

Outside of her window, the blackbirds are back. They’re pecking at her windowsill feeder, squabbling over their favorite seeds. Not wanting to scare the birds away, Chrissy pulls back the curtain as slowly as she can, taking care not to jostle the trinkets she’s got hanging from the metal rail.

Two are as she expected. Brown, speckled and fluffed up against the cold. The third is different, its body black from head to toe, telltale signs of a male of its species. Interesting.

Between the houses, the sun hits just right, catching on the prisms where they hang and bathing the small kitchen in soft, multicolored refractions of light.

It's a good kitchen, if Chrissy can say so herself. She's spent a lot of time on it. As kitchens go It's pretty normal, if on the feminine side. But she loves it, loves how her pale wooden cabinets with their painted white interiors keep the room bright. How the light through the window reflects warmly around the room, even on the darkest winter nights.

And if she’d cut a few corners, inlaid a few choice runes around the copper handles to keep them shining just right, well. Who’s to say she’s not allowed?

She’s long out of the gilded cage of her childhood and teenage years, where every sign of ungodliness was plucked out at the root and burned just in case. 

It had taken her quite some time, even after finding the coven of her aunties to take her in, to give herself little treats like this just because she can.

They’re a reminder now, even on her hardest days, that she can have things that are just for her.

Perhaps more importantly, however, is how the kitchen doesn't feel like the workplace of a practicing witch. It feels homey. Welcoming.

The functions are all there, of course, if one knows what they are looking for.

Read on Ao3!