#she has the power through her voice and a special song

[zoetekohana]

in which mimi needs to find her voice to save reality from collapsing into dust and taichi needs to find his courage to save mimi from transforming into a star [michi au] ↪︎ for day five of michi karaoke week ♫ voice

dedicated to @ex-machiina​ who encouraged me to continue this project when i was about to give up

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.

Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink

WC: 7.1k

Chapter 13/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!

Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.

“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.

Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you. 

You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.

“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.

You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.

You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.

Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie. 

“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.

He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I can’t wait.”

At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.” 

Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’” 

You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.

Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.

“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.

Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”

More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.

“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.

“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.

The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.

You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.

Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room. 

“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”

The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”

“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.

Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.

Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why. 

Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.

“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.

“What’s up?” 

He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”

There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.” 

Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”

Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”

His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long week.”

It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”

“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”

He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home? 

I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson. 

Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.

And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.

He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–

“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?” 

“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–

“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”

Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?

Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”

Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising. 

What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?

Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”

“Wayne!”

“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”

Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.

Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”

On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.

He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:

“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”

“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”

“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”

“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”

Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”

“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.

“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”

“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”

All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.

“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.” 

Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”

The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”

Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.

“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”

To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.

He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees. 

He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.

Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.

You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.

You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.

Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling. 

At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him. 

You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.

“H-Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.

You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”

He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”

“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.

You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking. 

“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him. 

The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket. 

“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety. 

The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face. 

You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.

“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.

Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall. 

“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”

His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now.  “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”

“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”

“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.

He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”

“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”

“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.

Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?

It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce. 

“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?” 

His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.

“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.

You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it. 

Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see.”

Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.

“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”

But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak. 

You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline. 

Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”

“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”

Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion. 

“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”

The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”

“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”

The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”

“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”

You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”

“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”

“‘Teacher plus Freak?’” 

“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”

You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years. 

Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.

“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”

“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.

You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.

“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”

He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.

“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin. 

He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”

The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before. 

You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.

And you’re everything to each other. 

--

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[melodic-haze]

Personally how touched starved do you think Arlecchino and Furina are? Like one has been alone for 500 years and the other killed her best friend and probably doesn’t think she deserves love.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: Arlecchino x Reader, Furina x Reader

☆ — TYPE: SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Oh I think they'd be VERY fucking touch starved, except the two are like. On two different sides of the scale

On one end, you've got Furina. On the other end, you've got Arlecchino. What they're on a scale of? How "vocal" they would be in terms of it

Furina would be on the VERY vocal side, and by that I mean she WILL monologue to you about how she needs your touch or else she will PERISH from a lack of you-contact

Furina puts the back of her hand on her forehead, "My beloved wants to leave me be! Oh, you torture me..."

"Babe, I'm literally only going to get a glass of water."

"You forget my domain over the element!" She moves to throw herself onto you, wrapping her arms around your neck and causing you to laugh as you caught her, "I can satisfy your needs easily!"

"At that rate I'll be better off taking a shower!"

"It gets the job done!"

But she's not vocal for no reason :((( 500 years spent in self-isolation in order to save her people takes a HUGE toll on you so the moment Furina had realised that she doesn't have to do the whole song and dance all over again, she just can't help the want—the need—to basically be attached to you

It's not just because she wants to make up for lost time after FINALLY being able to do so, but also because she's scared that one day it'll all just go poof and disappear in a distant dream. She doesn't speak of her troubles until either she decides it herself that she should or one of the members of her Salon Solitaire (Crabaletta lol) decides to conk her for it

Sometimes she'll ask if she's being a pain in the ass bc she IS aware that she's constantly wanting for you to at LEAST be near her which. If you say she is then I need to sit you down personally and slap you in NOT a fun way

Meanwhile, Arlecchino on the other hand, is VERY quiet about it. She won't say anything, nevermind doing anything. She'd restrict herself from clinging onto you as much as she'd like to

You were a vision to her, a lovely sight to see and a lovely voice to hear as you recounted your day's events. Even when you did something so mundane, something that isn't necessarily something special, Arlecchino still looked at you with such adoration.

She almost didn't notice her hand inching closer towards yours from her warm daze.

Almost.

Before she could draw it back unnoticed, however, you turned your head at just the right (or wrong) time.

"Arlecchino? Is there.. something wrong?"

..She shakes her head instead of admitting her desires, "No, my apologies, darling. I was rather captivated by your tale. Do tell me more about your friend's predicament."

And so you do, but you couldn't help but notice the longing look in her eyes.

It takes a while before she starts warming up to the idea of letting herself actually do SOMETHING. And that'll take a lot of time, patience and encouragement from her❗️❗️❗️ But trust when I say it's worth it bc she practically treats you with so much more affection and devotion than the literal archon she serves HAHA

She doesn't thinks she deserves to show physical affection, to touch you, to truly worship you and your body in every way she can—not when she has the power to hurt you, not when she's killed off the person she had cherished the most all those years ago :(

You gotta reassure her that everything's okay and that you won't disappear bc once you've done that? She's SO TOUCHY she will NOT go through the day without havign some form of contact with you

She won't do it as much in work though she has a reputation she wants to keep lmao

[mischiefmaker615]

Bang Bang

Requester: @Laer111ee (wattpad)

Rating: R

Summary/Inspiration Song: Bang Bang by K'NAAN

Note: my goodness.. it may be my longest one shot

Loki’s POV

I’ve always known humans to be the weaker species, surely much lower than most of the nine realms of this universe. It wasn’t until I had really spent an.. annoyingly long amount of time on Midgard to realize I could still be surprised.

It was strange, how Midgardians have history books filled to the brim of war and chaos, caused by their own doing. Why is it that when I try to rule, they turn against the idea? They most certainly have no problems living with those elected to decide how they live; is it because I am the god of chaos that makes things different? That I am not human? All.. nuisance cast aside with how things went upon them sending their earth’s mightiest heroes, I did at least gain one positive aspect through it all.

Her.

Was wasn’t quite special, no powers running through her delicate yet capable feminine body. Just years, perhaps a great solid decade at most of hard-core training- that humans would consider hard core. Gods even I am picking up on their simpleton language. Nevertheless, whatever this woman has gone through to earn her spot amongst these Avengers, she was truly the first, pure human that could actually get my body to tense in battle, for me to actually have to concentrate, to be less.. cocky, as I’m told.

She keeps up.

“you have a nasty habit of running from the inevitable-‘’ she called, slowly walking through some abandoned building as I kept myself around the corner from her eye sight.

The SHIELD uniform hugged beautifully to her body, much more mesmerizing than The Widow. She quickly let her eyes flick down briefly to make sure she was carefully walking amongst the debris, going right back up to make sure I hadn’t appeared in sight yet. It was quite amusing, the serious in her face as she searched for me, this not even being the first time she’s sought me out.

Although this woman walked around half the time with a loaded shotgun, -though it was hardly enough to concern me, something about her seemed to make me feel like I could have no concern with whatever she would point at me. Like she wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, though I wasn’t quite in the mood to test out the possible bluff. She seemed to shoot me straight in the heart anyway, and to my own surprise, it came with no pain..

Why they don’t send someone with heightened abilities, I am unsure. Yet she’s lasted this long, though most of our encounters I’ve held back a lot- and she knows it. I just tend to always look forward to our next encounter, and I can’t very much do that if she is in a recovery wing. I am not a fool though, and normally there is either one or two Avengers outside the building in which I sneak to, indicating that she is perhaps still being put to the test by going after me.

‘’and yet you still follow darling.’’ I chuckle, using the angles where my voice could echo rather than give away my location as I eye the gun clutched in her hands. ‘’tell me, how many times will your heroes send you before they finally think you’ll catch me?’’

Her E/C eyes narrow, her head moving to all directions as she pressed on, her nose twitched as she ignored the knocking feeling to sneeze with all the dust. Cute.

‘’perhaps I’ve been holding back as well, when are you going to have the balls to have a real fight with me?’’

I couldn’t help but smirk at her vulgar language, most likely using sarcasm to substitute her fear, though I did not smell any on her. I began moving myself through the halls, knowing from a birds eye view of the building, I was making my way around so I could be behind her. ‘’when I know you won’t break as soon as I touch you..’’ quite often, I’ve hinted at an inuendo. As I’ve pushed much of the thoughts down, it wasn’t new for the idea of perhaps laying down with her to cross my mind if even given the opportunity- though I do like my partners willing most of the time.

‘’how about you stop hiding like a coward then?’’

It was a weak answer, but I knew she just wanted me to keep talking to give away my position as I quietly turn the corner and was now getting an eye view of her backside- hips swaying with a sculpted rump. I have wondered if those heroes merely send her for me to be distracted in hopes that she could use that to defeat me.. it hasn’t quite worked yet.

“It could be fun if you stop holding back.’’

My brow raised at her last statement. Did she enjoy these pointless battles just as much as I did? I rather sought out her closeness, her sarcasm and fierceness though she was as harmless as a young mongrel. I could always smell her scent when we fought, almost seeing the oils and soaps she uses and there was only one time I could have sworn I could smell arousal. My cock twitched at the mere thought and brought me out of my thoughts as I slowed my pace behind her. Though this closeness now I just couldn’t resist.

‘’you want fun then? Let’s have fun..’’ I whisper in her ear, seeing her body tense at the realization of my whereabouts and I had just enough time to inhale, my eyes fluttering as I got what I wanted before I leaned back when she swung an elbow back.

She was quick, turning around and pointed her gun towards me in which I was quick to grab and yank free before I had to watch her other arm. Fighting Midgardians was almost like fighting something that moved in slow motion, and I was happy to play along as I let her hit my chest now and again though I could tell she had gotten stronger since the last time we’ve met.

‘’dare I say you also look forward to our little dance sweet Y/N?’’ I smirk, teasing her to throw off her concentration as she glares, increasing her speed as she keeps trying to find an opening.

‘’I look forward to finally seeing you behind glass again Loki’’ she snapped though I gathered no anger in her voice as she dropped down and I quickly stepped back from a leg swing.

‘’ah so you much prefer talking than our physical interactions out here?’’ I press before she humps back to her feet, ramming the top of her head into my jaw. It didn’t hurt but it was the force that had my eyes fly up and I had to regain my footing as she kept going at punching at my pressure points- trying through my armor at least.

‘’I prefer you putting your mouth to better use-‘’ she cut herself off, the surprise matching my own as her body stilled for a split second and she shook her head ‘’interrogation!’’ she added, trying to redirect her meaning as her mistaken inuendo had my humor triggers.

I laughed and something in my chest seemed to switch at how this woman made me feel in that moment where she was quick to try to correct herself by fighting harder. It worked.

For once she got the best of me, fighting rather dirty through her embarrassment and opted to quick me in the groin. My amusement was quickly replaced with pain and she had me on my back in an instant with her blade to my neck. My hands were up, palms towards her in a surrender position where we both caught our breath.

‘’let me know if the offer still stands,’’ I smirk, knowing any wrong moves she would press the blade deeper than it was as I felt the slight warm trickle of blood at my neck.

Her free hand moved to her thigh, my eyes watching rather mesmerized as my mind screamed to get me out of this situation. With her body on top of mine quick comfortably in a pin, my body had other plans and wished to remain as she pulled out her radio. Sound seemed to have left my ears, seeing her speak but I couldn’t hear anything as I watched her.

This woman was different..

That had been quite some time ago, perhaps a little bit over a year and It was only 3 months later of.. attempted interrogations, they even sent her, because they realized my “plans” haven’t been put into place yet, day saved if it hasn’t started yet. After those boring 3 months, I found out someone had requested and convinced me to remain house bound to the Avengers tower, participating in community service here and there if my magic needed to be put to use depending on the foe they were fighting that same day. Of course, they never let me out without a particular Asgardian bracelet my idiot brother brought back that would dull my abilities, ensuring my escape would not be easily attempted.

When I had arrived at the tower for my new living situation, I received the not-so-surprising welcome from those heroes, and I often wondered who convinced SHIELD to let me be housed here. When my eyes landed on Y/N, those features reddened and her eye contact wavered, I knew it was here. I never brought it up, but as we conversed here and there throughout my time, her kindness compared to the others was a define confirmation where I never really needed to ask.

And our friendship grew.

Reader’s POV

Loki and I were similar in many ways- not so much the fact that he killed people or tried to take over the world or that he was narssassistic.. okay perhaps not that similar. Though in many house-life ways we seemed to be two peas in a pod.

I knew from the start the Avengers had sent me first to try to take him down, to put me to the test, so to speak, during my training days. To everyones surprise, he and I weren’t the stereotypical enemies. I would never admit it, but Loki was right.. fighting him was almost something I would look forward to, because we knew we couldn’t bring ourselves to kil each other.

Weve grown in friendship since he’s arrived, I noticed long before there was something different about him.. so I spoke with Fury and although Loki hasn’t figured it out yet- to my knowledge, I was assigned to secretly ‘babysit him’.

Whenever he entered the room, I couldn’t help but look at him with the feeling that my lips wanted to curl into a smile. There was a strange flutter in my chest, almost a wanting that I hoped he would sit next to me, talk to me, anything where I was really in his attention. He strongly disliked everyone else, perhaps me a bit less so I hope that wasn’t the main reason why he would come over..

I don’t want him to hate me..

We sat across from each other in another meeting, hosted by Rogers as he yet again had to debrief us on how we could do better on the latest assignment. From the corner of my eye, I could tell Loki was staring and I shifted a little shyly by his intense gaze. Whenever I would move to look back at him, his eyes were quick to move on Rogers and sometimes I would question if he had really been looking over here or not.

Just to test that theory, I would sometimes lean forward against my forearms on the table, my clevage showing a bit more with whatever top I was wearing that day. From the corner of my eye I could see Loki seeming to study my skin, him taking a strained swallow as he shifted in his seat sutly. I couldn’t help but smirk as I ‘listened’ to Steve, loving to tease this man to get back at mild mischief he would throw around in the tower when he was bored.

I would only sit back in my chair when I notice Tony activitly leaning forward to stare down my chest, hearing a growl form Loki as he seemed to look jealous before I would roll my eyes at Stark.

He would after flirt, casually of course in a normal conversation and catch me off guard where he’d smirk at how red my cheeks would get. Often mentally preparing myself to see him every day I would usually beat him to it with a flirtation inundo where he then would either stutter or turn away to try to make sure I wouldn’t see his own cheeks redden.

Cat and mouse, taking turns on who would be played and the player.

That’s how our relationship was, flirting and conversing. The only one who could hold up an interesting conversation around here and get me to think. He had so many ideas, good ones, and thoughts where we’d lose track of time. Truth be told I think I have began to gain feelings for this god.. and it scared me to death but upon seeing how.. for lack of a better term, weak, I could make him, it also made me feel bold, powerful, and I liked the person I was when I was around him.

Yet it’s not like he felt the same.. I probably was just another weak mortal in his eyes, decent enough to kill time with if this was all the options he had..

Nobody’s POV

Loki’s footsteps slowed, moving with causton down the halls as soon as he heard slight sound coming from the kitchen down the hall. Exactly where he was heading to In the middle of the night, as one does.

He was bare chested, black boxers being the only article of clothing he had on and with a dagger formulating in his hand as he neared the corner. No one has been up this late, and judging the cercumstances of where they were, you could never be to sure with the enemies that could pop up. Yet when he peaked around the corner, there was no enemy..

Her.

She had on.. very short shorts, a tank top with no sign of bra on as she kept her back to him at the stove. The dim stove top light was the only lighting she gave herself as she stirred something in the pop while his body relaxed with the non-threat.

Why was she up at this hour? He was only fetching himself a glass of water..

The dagger slowly vanished within thin air, his eyes starting from her ankles and slowly working their way up as he leaned himself against the doorframe. He had seen her in varies outfits- from work, to casual but never sleep attire. His teeth captured his bottom lip, feeling like he hasn’t blinked as he shifted himself by the slight growing reminder at how he felt towards her. Upon pawing at his boxers, he exhaled in slight discomfort and as soon as he noticed her body tensed, his hand moved to his side as she turned.

‘’oh! Loki-‘’ she gasped, quickly hushing herself as she grabbed her heart from the surprise. Her eyes seemed to widen at the sight of him, not exactly having seen him in his own sleep attire before- let alone shirtless. ‘’what are you-‘’

Playing it off quickly as if he hadn’t been staring for long a moment ago, he casually shrugged and moved himself towards the fridge with his eyes forward. ‘’I am merley fetching a glass of water, I am more curious as to why you would be cooking yourself a meal this late in the night?’’ he asked, glancing over at the stove as she turned off the burner.

‘’sometimes I just wake up with cravings- I wasn’t to hungry at dinner time so I suppose my body makes up for it now’’ she smiled sheepishly and leaned herself against the counter, watching him.

Loki gave a mild hum and a nod, taking a glass and turning around to face her. ‘’well do not mind me, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything’’ he smirked and slowly sauntered over to her.

He could notice her breathing picking up as he stood before he, having to tilt his head down a little to look at her as his height served as a reminder.

‘’n-not at all-‘’ she shook her head, sucking in a breath as he raised his arm while he held eye contact, their expressions steady at a stalemate before he reached around her, his arm gliding against her side before he pulled back with the water pitcher in hand. Looking embarrassed, her eyes moved over to the stove, checking on nothing which made him smirk.

‘’is there a problem?’’

‘’of course not- I’m just waiting for you to finish up.’’ She said with quick defense where he couldn’t help but chuckle, motioning around him as he poured into his glass.

‘’I am not in your way darling, unless of course you require things from the fridge but I do remember you favor that particular meal as is- plain package contents.’’ He said with no judgement- not anymore, he had wrinkled his nose the first time he had seem packaged ramen but held back his negative opinions when she had him try it one day.

‘’I know I just- am not used to working in the kitchen with someone around..’’ she said and rubbed her arm as she seemed to want to close in on herself.

‘’that is not try Y/N, I distinctly remember you having no issue working in the kitchen when one is present,’’ he corrects calmly and takes a sip of his drink, eyeing her before he sets down the glass beside him. ‘’I think you are merely just not used to one seeing you in quite the.. intimate attire..’’ he smirked and she picked up on his teasing, narrowing her eyes as she crossed her arms to seem stubborn but she really just tried covering herself.

‘’I am perfectly fine, Loki, with cooking in anything with anyone. I just enjoy my peace and quiet and wish to resume it as soon as you leave.’’

‘’quite the lie darling, how long will you be keeping it up until you remember what the god of I am?’’ he laughed, quickly lowering his voice as he leaned against the counter across from her, almost acting as a mirror as he rests his palms beside him on its edge just as she did.

He couldn’t help but notice her- not so subtle- eyes roaming over his chest in quick movements as if he wouldn’t notice. Did she admire him as much as he admired her?.. or wasn’t strictly just their forms they liked..

‘’..was it an innuendo?’’ he asked, seeming to surprise himself as the words came out.

‘’-what was?’’ she asked, raising a brow as she thought if she said anything right now that would make him think that but he clarified with a shake of his head.

‘’in our last fight.. when I was free.. before all,’’ he waved his hand around as his eyes slowly raised over to hers. ‘’this..’’ he cheeks reddened at the very pit he had dug himself but he had to ask. ‘’you told me.. that you would rather put my mouth to better use-‘’

‘’that was strictly involving interrogation-‘’ she said quickly, her cheeks heating up as she turned herself around, gripping the counter edge in her hands as she kept her back to him.

She was hiding, quite shy and although he was rather embarrassed himself upon asking the question, he quite liked the way he could make her squirm this was as she hid her face from him. ‘’all of it?’’ he asked slowly and she knew he was waiting to try to read on if she would lie to him.

Her eyes studied the countertop, her mouth searching for words while her mind raced before she closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘’no..’’

Loki’s heart seemed to jump in his chest, his eyes looking over her back.. backside to be exact while he listened to her answer. So she did want him.. he began to take a small step forward, watching how she stayed still as she kept her back to him but she was very much listening to his movement. ‘’as it may seem.. I want you to Y/N.. but not in just that way..’’ he took a breath, finding it easier to confess while she wasn’t piercing him with her eyes and he continued on.

‘’your not like the other mor- ..humans.. your strong, you help others, your not selfish and dare I say just as mischievious as me.. intreging.. I’ve often looked forward to the next time we got to fight if it so meant being just a little bit more close to you..’’

By now he was standing behind her, seeing how she kept her head low and her body began to shake as she drew in a breath. ‘’..i like you too Loki.. you make me feel like I’m alive.. you make me want to be better.. stronger.. free.. I knew since day one you were holding back in the fight for a reason..’’

He slowly rested his hands along hers, his body hovering just barely against hers as his chin almost rested against her shoulder. His eyes fluttered closed, taking an inhale of her sweet scent he loved so much while he shook his head. ‘’I couldn’t hurt a sweet thing like you.. it was you who told Fury to put me here, wasn’t it? Out of the cell?’’ he finally asked and she nodded a little, looking forward as she straightened a little, bringing her body up so her shoulder was resting now against his chin.

He took this as an okay to rest a little weight on her, his chin down on her shoulder while his hands moved to rest on top of hers. His body was so close to hers, he could feel her body heat radiating off of her skin and his cock throbbed as he could smell her arousal. Her sweet.. sweet scent..

‘’thank you Y/N..’’ he whispered, grateful every day to be stuck here if I meant being close to her like this. Glass between them didn’t cut it. His thumb gently stroked her smooth skin on her hand, his brows furrowing as the straining reminder and he took a shaky breath. ‘’..does the offer still stand?’’ he whispered, asking the same question he had asked a long time ago.

His body tensed, holding itself back to remain in control as she slowly nodded and whispered back, ‘’yes..’’

Moving ever so slowly, keeping in control and full prepared to stop himself if she would change her mind, he pressed himself up against her, his bulge resting against her ass while his chest pressed against her back. His hand slowly left her own and moved to her waist, his palm flat as it glided down her hip and moved so his fingers could dip under the edge of her shorts.

With one last hesitation as if she would change her mind, his hand moved into her shorts, dipping into her underwear and found out just how aroused she was. They both seemed to suck in a breath, her body beginning to shake as he buried his face against the side of her neck and hair.

‘’gods Y/N.. how long have you dripped for me..’’ he breathed and felt her body tense as she bit her lip.

‘’to long..’’ she whispered and felt the pads of his two finger tips began to rub lazy circles against her clit.

Her hips seemed to press forward into his hand, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder while his hand stroked through her folds. Her breathing was shallow and she arched her back a bit when he began slowly grinding his bulge against her ass, following the same rhythem of his hand.

His own body shook a bit, his breathing seeming to match hers as he nuzzled his cheek against hers, their eyes closed as they feel into the sensation of lust while Loki moved his hand so his thumb could take over her clit while a digit began ghosting her enterance, teasing her as he moved his finger barely in and out.

Her fists clenched as she bit her lip, the teasing slowly driving her made and she could almost see the smug look on his face as he waited for her to give him what she wanted. She wasn’t having that and instead, pushed her ass a bit into his crotch, pushing him a step back before pulling his hand out by her wrist before she turned herself around.

Loki smirked, following her intentions as his hands moved to her waist and helped her jump onto the counter, her legs spread while he made quick work to pull her shorts and panties off all in one go. He had to take a pause, the sight to beautiful to just admire as his hands gripped the counters edge alongside her spread legs while she rested back on her palms.

His mouth seemed to water at the sight of her cunt, ready and waiting while he sank to a knee. The care if someone would walk in was long gone for them both as Loki moved his hands to grip her hips before he dipped his head between her legs. The very taste of her had him pulling her forward so she was closer to the edge, her legs shaking to almost squeezing his head while her own rested back with her eyes up to the ceiling.

‘’fuckk..’’ she breathed, her fingers gripping the edge as he moaned, lapping her center while his vibrations helped her along to build her pleasure.

Silver tongue alright and he couldn’t get enough of her as he ate like a man starved. He lapped through her folds, taking turns suckling at her clit and tongue fucking into her center while her hand moved to his hair.

His locks were silky smooth, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair while she panted for her sweet release. His careful slow movements made her eyes flutter open, noticng how he slowed as soon as her cunt began clenching against his tongue and she bit her lip. Replaying his tongue with the pad of his finger, he kept her on that glorious edge while he rubbed into her clit, raising his head as he smirked up at her.

‘’say it.’’

She held her breath, cheeks heating up as her fingers gripped his hair, knowing he was to strong to pull him back down herself as his eyes pierced hers. With a shaky breath, she knew what he wanted.. she knew for so long what he wanted..

‘’please.. oh god please Loki.. please let me cum..’’ she begged, a whine in her tone as tears of sexual frustration build up pricked her eyes as he gave her that all to familiar smirk.

‘’as my lady commands,’’ he purred before moving his hand back to her hip and replaced it with his tongue, plunging it in and out of her center while the tip of his nose rubbed against her clit.

Her hips began bucking, her grip tightened in his hair before she threw her head back and moaned, shamelessly moaning his name as her eyes fluttered closed while she came. Loki wasted not a single drop as he drank her in, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs soothingly, almost like that alone was telling her good girl..

With shallow breaths, she felt his mouth slow its movements, helping her ride out her orgasm while her body shook. Pulling his body back slowly, he gave each inside of her thigh a kiss before he raised himself to be nose to nose with her, his palms resting beside her thighs as he smirked.

‘’how’s that for holding back?”

Her eyes widened as her hands moved to grip his shoulders. ‘’you were holding back??”

‘’do you think I hold back just in battle darling? I do not wish to break my fair mortal’’ he smirked and his eyes glanced over her before flicking back up. ‘’we are merely in the kitchen, if you wish for a proper.. fucking, then to the bedroom we go.’’

Her cheeks heated up and the realization that it gets 10000 times better- impossibly- made her eyes flick down to his raging erection. That piercing gaze of hers moved back up to his own and she mirrored his smirk as she moved a hand down to where he wanted her most.

‘’how about we put my mouth to use too..’’

Loki smirked and pulled her forward, her arms wrapped around his neck while her legs around his waist.

‘’..i will accept that offer in.. full.’’

DM a song for your own Musical Mischief one shot!

Tag List: @foxherder  @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[z0mbiefrank]

MCR5 Theory: Secretary Gerard is a character called The Widow

I'm unsure if everyone is thinking along the same lines, but I have yet to see anyone talk about it, so I've put together this post with evidence and links. (this will expand on the 9/11 theory. also special shout out to @autistme who made a spreadsheet with all the aus eagles lyrics) MCR performed Eagles at all six Australia shows this tour. At five of them, Gerard was dressed in a grey suit and skirt, commonly referred to as the secretary or office lady by fans.

(📷 Dough Peters) Here's a quick reference table for the things I will be talking about here. (Not necessary to read, I will explain it all)

At Brisbane, the drumheads read "everything under control" followed by "here comes the airplane". The planes have yet to hit the towers, but disaster is imminent. Eagles has evolved a lot over the tour but the Aus dates heard a new consistent change in the first verse.

All along the river bends All along with all my friends Yes, all around the river bends All together with my friends

There is minimal change for Brisbane 2. Notice how gerard is dressed as the secretary and says "my friends".

Next comes Melbourne 1. The drumhead reads "TErrOR". The plane has hit and there is a dramatic change to the first verse.

All night long the widow sends Valentines to bitter friends Yes, all night long the widow sends Valentines to all my friends

This character with friends now has a title, and it is The Widow. She has lost her husband in the attack. Her friends survived and she is sending them letters of love during this terrible time.

Melbourne 2, Gerard breaks the outfit chain. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, there is no hint of office wear, he is no longer playing the widow, he is playing himself. The drumhead also seems unrelated to 9/11 "BARK BARK BARK". They sing the same first verse as the previous night with minimal change, except for the last line

Valentines to all her friends

This is the only instance where Gerard does not refer to the friends as "my friends" at all during aus eagles, and it is because they weren't in the skirt suit that night, they were not the widow.

Next comes Sydney. The Widow is back and she's covered in blood! Something awful has happened to her, she's dying. But the drumhead reads "UNKILLAbLe". (This was written by Frank, an extremely powerful thing for him to do considering his accident in Sydney and PTSD. MCR has always used concept albums as a vessel to speak of things the band has been through.) The widow continues to write her letters during eagles despite the blood on her face.

(📷 Jess Gleeson) Sydney 2. The Widow again. She is in the exact same outfit, down to her boots (sports mode), but this time she is not only covered in blood but her eyes are WHITE. She is dead! The drumhead now reads "Unkillables", this is no longer specifically just one, but multiple people. It could be mcr as a band, mcr as individuals, or mcr fans themselves. In the context of a concept album, unkillables can take on a whole new meaning. It brings to mind the supernatural, ghouls, vampires, werewolves. How is it that the widow is dead, yet she is walking on stage right in front of us? Staring at us with blank eyes on the big screen? Is she a ghost, a zombie? I'm not sure. But she is still the widow. Even in death, she is searching for her husband.

(📷 ashymcr , expiiredglitter)

Which leads me to Summertime. The piece of evidence that drove me to write this long-ass post. As we know, it is a love song about Gerard's marital partner. Before they played, Gerard spoke in a breathy and musically haunting voice "I'll find you. I'll find you. come find me." Definitely something a lost and ghostly widow would say. They also bring out a white handkerchief, they do not have it in any other songs. Throughout the performance, Gerard clutched it to their chest repeatedly and held it lovingly in both hands.

In the third picture, he is looking down sadly at the handkerchief singing the line "If you stay, I would even wait all night." (video)

This is very clearly The Widow. She is mourning her husband, she is dead, lost and searching for him. Perhaps the handkerchief is all she has left of him, or it is simply to dry her tears, but she is clearly in mourning for her marital partner.

And finally, Eagles at Sydney 2. The first verse stays the same except for the third line. "Yes, all night long the widow sends" becomes

Yes, all day long the widow sends

She is writing night and day. She does not rest. Her outfits in Sydney are exactly the same. Every single other secretary's outfit is subtlely different, but now she is dead, she is stuck in the same clothing like a ghost. The Widow also makes an appearance later in the song.

We found the widow And hit her with a baseball bat

I have less ideas of what this could be about, but I think if some dead lady was walking about being unkillable, people would get freaked and attack her with a baseball bat. The concept of "unkillables" is something I could write a whole other post about but I'll spare you for now.

To conclude, I think The Widow as a concept album character would fit right in with MCR. They are no strangers to lovers separated by death. Others on here have spoken on how the feminine outfits Gerard has chosen this tour have often been of women scorned or living in the shadows of powerful men. I believe The Widow would fit right in. Even after her husband has died, she is only talked about in reference to him. She is The Widow, something that tells us more about her husband than herself.

[jerzwriter]

I just couldn't let the first chapter stand. This story is not part of my headcanon. In my HC, Trystan is in tune enough with Carolina to know she'd consider an engagement premature at this stage. But, I can conceivably see Trystan wanting to propose for... reasons. So, I wanted to do a little fix it... and here it is in two parts. Oh, and since I can suck at getting subsequent parts up, part two will be posted later today. :)

Book: Crimes of Passion: The Proposal Pairing: m!Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Characters: Ruby Webster, Luke Watanabe, Mafalda Ginovesi Words: 2,074 Rating: Teen Summary: Carolina makes an unexpected discovery in Trystan's kitchen, then runs out to seek advice from her friends. A/N: Participating in @choicesmaychallenge24 Hera: Marriage

Part Two Crimes of Passion Masterlist Complete Masterlist

There’s something special about early mornings in New York City - before the sun peeks through the clouds and the first bird has yet to sing its song. It’s the only time you’ll find the City that never sleeps at rest and it can be intoxicating. But the serenity on the streets of New York at this early hour was nothing compared to the tranquility inside Trystan Thorne’s apartment.

There, he slept peacefully with the love of his life nuzzled closely at his side. But while Trystan was adrift in dreamland, he awakened Carolina from hers, courtesy of somniloquy, or as the masses would call it... talking in his sleep.  

“Yes, Your Majesty... Right away... I’ll find it...”

Carolina opened her eyes with a smile; she had seen this show before and found it quite entertaining. It rarely had a repeat, so she never knew what was in store.

“Unhand me, you beast! Otherwise, I can’t promise the search will be thorough!”

She cocked a brow at that one, gently rubbing Trystan's back. “What the hell are you dreaming about, my prince.”

With a quick jerk, he rolled over, desperately reaching out in his sleep. “Don’t go, Carolina! I love you!”

The level of desperation in his voice tugged at Carolina’s heart, and she quickly pulled him into a protective embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, kissing the top of his sleepy head. “You silly man. I love you, too.”

Still sleeping, Trystan's face visibly changed as he snuggled closer; peace and contentment were the rules for the day. Once she was certain he was sleeping soundly, Carolina decided returning to her slumber was the best thing to do, and she was just about to reach that goal when the ring of her phone jolted her awake. Not wanting to disturb Trystan, she lowered the volume and quickly tiptoed out of his room, grumbling the whole way. She saw Mafalda’s name on her screen and answered with an exaggerated yawn.

“Who’s dead?” she asked, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re calling me this early in the morning, I’m assuming someone died, and you need me to find out who did it.”

Mafalda’s sarcastic grin was so powerful Carolina could hear in her voice. “It doesn’t always have to be that deep... or tragic... But I have a case I want you to start on immediately.”

She went on to explain that one of New York’s wealthiest and most influential socialites had her dog stolen while strolling in Central Park; time was of the essence, and the heiress was willing to pay handsomely to have her precious poodle back home.

“Really?” Carolina asked. “This sounds like an easy payday to me!”

“I admire your confidence; now, see it through. The client’s name is Nina Ricci, and her address is....”

“Hold on a second,” Carolina replied, fumbling through a kitchen drawer. “I need to find a pen.”

Still groggy, she was quickly awakened when her fingers brushed over a soft, velvet box. Her heart stopped when she looked down—after all, she had only seen that color blue in movies... and she knew what it meant. It wasn’t nosiness as much as her detective’s acumen that made her open the box at once, and she gasped loud enough for Mafalda to hear when she saw what was inside.

“Carolina... are you OK?”

It was a ring. Not any old ring, but an engagement ring fit for royalty glistening in her hands.

“No... this... this can’t be....” she muttered.

“Carolina, what can’t be?” 

“Oh, uh... Mafalda... it’s uh... it’s nothing. Uhm... I’ll be at the office within the hour.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply, her heart racing as she stared at the glittering gem in her hand.  

“This can’t be...” she repeated. “He’s not planning on proposing... is he?”

She brought the ring closer, the radiant light it emanated assaulting her startled eyes. She had never been one of those girls who dreamed about engagements from childhood, so she couldn’t even begin to guess how many carats this was, though she knew it eclipsed the two-carat boulder that graced Mafalda’s left hand.

“This had to cost him more than I’ve earned in my lifetime,” she muttered. “This is crazy! And he has it in the kitchen drawer... the kitchen drawer. The man has, like... five safes in this apartment! And he keeps this in the kitchen drawer?”  

She let out a shaky breath as a million thoughts raced in her mind. She’d be lying if she said she never thought about the two of them getting married...someday... in the future. The distant future, but this... this was far too soon!

“Is he really ready for this? Am I?”

A vision of Trystan on one knee appeared before her. He cradled the precious gem in his hand, and that sweet, doe-eyed look she had become unable to deny was all over his face. She broke into a sweat. She considered Googling her symptoms. Dizziness, nausea, and a rapid heartbeat could indicate many things, but she felt guilty for hoping to find "discovering an engagement ring in your lover’s kitchen drawer" among the culprits.

The sound of footsteps plodding down the hall pulled her from her panicked state. She returned the ring to the exact spot where she found it and grabbed a container of orange juice from the fridge. Jumping into a chair at the kitchen counter, she scrolled through her phone, attempting to look nonchalant.

That's where a groggy Trystan found her. "Look at you!" He mumbled as his arms encircled her. “It should be against the law to look that good so early in the morning.”

“Really?” She grinned. “You look pretty good in the mornings, too, sir. If they make it illegal, I would have to arrest you.”

“Kinky,” he growled. “As long as we’re in the same cell, I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

He shuffled to the counter to make a pot of coffee. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Mafalda called. She has a case for me. I’ll be heading into the office momentarily.”

Trystan’s face fell. “Today! But we just got back from Drakovia! Surely, Mafalda can spare you for a day!”

 “You have a lot to learn about Mafalda... and what it’s like to be a working person,” Carolina grinned.

“Then it's time I learn. I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

“NO!” Carolina yelled, halting him in his path.

“Why? We are partners, aren’t we?”

“Uh, yeah. But Mafalda only requested me, and, uh, hon... life’s been a whirlwind lately. I think I need a few hours to focus on myself and my work... is that OK?”

“Of course it is. Maybe we could meet up later, at...”

“Oh, look at the time!” Carolina interrupted, planting a quick kiss on Trystan’s cheek before bolting toward the door. “I have to go! Talk to you later!”

“Carolina, wait...” he hollered after her, but it was pointless. She was already gone, and Trystan’s dazed look turned into one of pure amusement.

“I always knew it would be interesting to date an American,” he grinned, raising his coffee cup to his lips. “I just had no idea how interesting.”

~~~~~ 

A short time after, Carolina burst into the agency, startling Ruby and Luke, who were already there.

“Carolina,” Ruby chuckled. “Is someone chasing you?”

“Ruby!” a red-faced Carolina panted. “I need your help! I need your help right now! It’s an...emergency!”

“If it’s about finding the poodle, I’m not your woman. I don’t know much about dogs.”

“It’s not about the dog! It’s about the ring!”

Ruby scrunched her nose. “Did someone lose a ring?”

“No! No, it’s not about a lost ring; it’s about a FOUND ring! An engagement ring! In Trystan’s drawer!”

The room fell silent as the couple’s eyes grew wide. They exchanged a shocked look before Luke turned to his friend with alarm.

“You’re right. This is an emergency!”

“I know!” Carolina screeched, crumbling into a nearby chair. “This has never happened to me! What am I supposed to do with this?”

Ruby sat at her friend’s side, resting a comforting hand atop her knee.

“ Carolina, I realize this is... soon... and it's a bit of a shock, but the man you adore is planning on proposing. You may not be ready, but this isn’t exactly a tragedy.”

“Well, that depends on how you define tragedy,” Luke injected.

“Honestly, it’s not even all that surprising,” Ruby stated, glowering in Luke’s direction.

“It’s not?” Carolina questioned. “We’ve been together three months, Ruby!”

“Sure. But if you kept up with the latest royal gossip like I do, you’d know that royals operate a much different playing field than us mere mortals. Engagements tend to happen pretty quickly in their world. Granted, most of them are arranged, but still.”

“Well, I’m not a royal!” Carolina huffed. “And I haven’t talked to my Uncle Tommy today, but I’m comfortable saying that he hasn’t been having late-night conversations with Viktoria and Maksim to discuss my dowry!”

Anxiety overwhelming her, she jumped to her feet, pacing the floor furiously before her friends.

“Who does this! Who goes and buys a ring... a very expensive ring, from TIFFANY’S, I might add...”

“Oh! It’s from Tiffany’s!” Ruby cooed.

“.... without even talking about it first! In the year of our lord 2024!” She motioned for Luke to get out of his seat. “I need to sit... I’m hyperventilating!”

Knowing better than to fight her, Luke acquiesced. “Carolina, you could always just tell him you found the ring and, you know, talk about it like grown-ups?”

The three friends turned toward the sound of an exasperated sigh and found Mafalda leaning against the frame of her office door. She crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of coffee before her beleaguered employee. “You need to calm down.”

“How much did you hear?” Caronlina asked wearily.

“All of it.”

“You heard all of it, and you’re telling me to calm down!”

“Yes. Get yourself together! You’ve faced down mobsters, cult killers, and murderous evil brothers; for fucks sake, you can handle coming face to face with a ring in Trystan's apartment!"

“She has a point,” Luke agreed.

“Mafalda, you’re the only expert on marriage present,” Ruby interjected. “What advice do you have?”

“Please,” Mafalda scoffed. “The only marriage I’m an expert on is my own.” She turned to Carolina, arms crossed and a look that was both comforting and commanding on her face. “I know you love Trystan, but have you given any thought to marrying him?”

“I mean... maybe a couple times... in passing. But I imagined it the future... the distant future... Even if marriage was important to me, in the three months I’ve known him, we’ve been busy chasing down those killers and murders you mentioned... never mind clearing Trystan's name and keeping him out of a Drakovian prison! When would I have had time to be thinking about... marriage?”

Mafalda screwed her eyes shut as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You need to talk to him. He needs to hear these things from you, not us. Look, some people have whirlwind courtships, get married, and go on to have a beautiful life together, but Carolina, a marriage takes two people, and if you’re not ready for it yet... that’s fine. But tell him that.”

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s going to up and leave you if you say you’re not ready,” Luke added.

Carolina turned to him, and for the first time today the anxious look in her eyes was replaced with one of fear. “How... how do you know that?”

“Because I have eyes,” he half-smiled. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re crazy about him. Just... go get your timelines straight.”

“He’s right,” Mafalda agreed. I always say that if people in a relationship are honest and love each other, they’ll get through anything.”

 Carolina gulped down the rest of her coffee, appearing more at ease than she had since this morning’s discovery. “You’re right. Now, do I tell him I found the ring and have this conversation with him now? Or wait until he proposes and say...no.”

“Offh! That’s a tough one,” Ruby jumped in. “You know Trystan... he’s go big or go home. If he’s proposing, I’m sure he has a flash mob planned.”

Carolina ran a hand down her face. "Thanks for that, Ruby," she groaned.

“You’ll have to make that call,” Maflada smiled, tossing a file Carolina’s way. “But you have some time to mull it over because, right now, you have a poodle to find.”

Part Two will be up later today. :)

@choicesficwriterscreations

[stranger224]

    “George you bastard what did you do to me?” Shelly screamed into the phone. “I was at the mall doing some Christmas shopping when I suddenly got an overwhelming urge to drop to my knees and suck someone’s cock. I was presenting my udde- boobi- tits to anyone who wanted to see them and begging them to let me suck them off. It didn't stop until security escorted me out of the store.” Shelly adjusted her shirt and bra, ever since that incident both felt like they were too tight on her. On the other end of the line George was half grinning, half embarrassed. “Shel, Im sorry, I didn't know you were planning on going shopping today, at the mall no less it was supposed to be a surprise for tonight”

    “What did you do to me, and how do I stop it Master? Cause it's like starting up again. My mouth feels so tingly and empty. Oh Master, when are you coming home? I need your cock” Shelly begged into the phone lewdly her jeans felt tight on her ass and thighs all of a sudden maybe she should take them off?”

    George’s voice took on a more authority tone at the word "Master“ Fuckslut. Do you have your headphones?” 

    “Yes Master, Fuckslut has Fucksluts headphones but how will that help Fuckslut get cock?

    George pinched the bridge of his nose Fuckslut was fun but she could be very single minded sometimes “Please put them on”

    “Ok Master” there was a light bit of shuffling “Ok Master they are on”

    “Hit the power button please” Fuckslut did and the world around her became quiet before filling with the sounds of George’s office. A cloud lifted and Shelly felt her mind revert to normal. Her shirt and bra still felt tight however 

    “Ok Im back explain”

    “So you know that silly internet game Wham-a-geddon?”, Well I thought it would be fun to tie your bimbofication triggers to that song, so the more you hear it the more you would bimbofy. I had a whole playlist where the frequency of the song amps up until it plays for 5 hours on loop. I was going to use it on you tonight as a surprise.”

    Now it was Shelly’s turn to pinch her nose “A surprise for me or for you? You know that game was made because it's one of the most frequent songs played on the radio the goal is to try and not hear it”

    “Well I guess for today you are playing on hard mode”. George said sheepishly. “Don’t worry, so long as you keep your headphones on, you should be fine, Now I have to go someone just started to play the song here I’ll see you tonight love you” 

    Shelly checked out the charge on her headphones Only a few minutes of battery left she hadn't been charging them. Pulling one headphone out of her ear she heard the fading voice “I'll give it to someone special” The headphones would charge if they were in the case and the song couldn't loop that often So Shelly decided to risk it. She only had a few more stores to hit. What is the worst that could happen?

    At about 5 o’ clock the employees of Victoria Secret were surprised by the strangest sight Woman walking into the store with the most plastic body any of them had ever seen. She was wearing a pair of pink lucite heels with the tags from Spencer gifts still on them.a pair of soaked panties that were making a buzzing sound and not much else. The tattered remains of a t-shirt and bra were clinging to the tops of her obviously fake breast. While the shredded flaps of her jeans were held up by her waist her ass cheeks were completely on display. A crowd of gawkers were following behind her staring at the bizarre woman. Through a face frozen with botox and lips so inflated drool was dripping from her keyhole pout. The woman was humming a song. It sounded like that old 80’s Christmas song that they played on loop around her. “Can you like help Fuckslut find something yummy for Fuckslut to wear to make Master’s cock hard?”

    One employee walked over to the bimbo and said “right this way maam”, guiding her to the back of the store to distract her while another ran to get security.

    An hour later George bundled the heavily bimbofied Shelly or- Fuckslut as she kept telling the security guard-into his car to take her home. he had forgotten one key feature of that particular christmas song: How easy it was to get stuck in one’s head 

Model is Stephine Michelle Caption by Me 

[book--brackets]

The Hollow Kingdom Trilogy by Clare B. Dunkle (2003-2005)

For thousands of years, young women have been vanishing from Hallow Hill, never to be seen again. Now Kate and Emily have moved there with no idea of the land's dreadful heritage--until Marak decides to tell them himself. Marak is a powerful magician who claims to be the goblin king, and he has very specific plans for the two new girls who have trespassed into his kingdom . . .

Healer and Seer by Victoria Henley (2000-2004)

Legend states that there exists a mighty sword that makes its possessor invincible to his enemies. But there is a curse on anyone who lifts the sword for conquest. King Kareed of Archeld goes after this sword anyway, winning it from the King of Bellandra. When he returns home from battle, he brings his daughter, Princess Torina, two special gifts. One is a unique crystal, in which she can view visions of the future. The other gift is the defeated king’s son Landen, who is to be her slave. Torina immediately releases Landen, who becomes a member of the King’s army and her close friend.

But trouble is lurking in the kingdom of Archeld and people are accusing Landen of plotting against the King. Torina refuses to believe he would hurt her family. Then Torina begins seeing deadly visions in her crystal. Can she save her father’s life and the future of her kingdom?

Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones (1985)

Polly has two sets of memories...

One is normal: school, home, friends. The other, stranger memories begin nine years ago, when she was ten and gate-crashed an odd funeral in the mansion near her grandmother's house. Polly's just beginning to recall the sometimes marvelous, sometimes frightening adventures she embarked on with Tom Lynn after that. And then she did something terrible, and everything changed.

But what did she do? Why can't she remember? Polly must uncover the secret, or her true love — and perhaps Polly herself — will be lost.

The Medoran Chronicles by Lynette Noni (2015-2019)

Dreading her first day at a new school, Alex is stunned when she walks through a doorway and finds herself stranded in Medora, a fantasy world full of impossibilities. Desperate to return home, she learns that only a man named Professor Marselle can help her... but he's missing.

While waiting for him to reappear, Alex attends Akarnae Academy, Medora's boarding school for teenagers with extraordinary gifts. She soon starts to enjoy her bizarre new world and the friends who embrace her as one of their own, but strange things are happening at Akarnae, and Alex can't ignore her fear that something unexpected... something sinister... is looming.

An unwilling pawn in a deadly game, Alex's shoulders bear the crushing weight of an entire race's survival. Only she can save the Medorans, but what if doing so prevents her from ever returning home?

The Girl With Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts (1980)

Everyone knows that Katie is different. The first thing people notice about her are her shiny silver eyes, but even they are not her most unique feature. If they paid a bit more attention, they might see that, as well as being very clever, she attracts strange activity. She can move her glasses back up her nose without touching them and freak weather seems to follow her around. However, when Katie moves to a new neighbourhood, she begins to realise that she might not be the only one who has the ability to do unbelievable things. Join Katie as she struggles to learn more about her place in two very different worlds. A magical story about a magical girl, with powers almost as sharp as her sensational silver eyes.

The Song of Albion by Stephen R. Lawhead (1991-1991)

From the dreaming spires of Oxford, Lewis Gillies drives north to seek a mythical creature in a misty glen in Scotland. Expecting little more than a weekend diversion, Lewis finds himself in a mystical place where two worlds meet, in the time-between-times--and in the heart of a battle between good and evil. The ancient Celts admitted no separation between this world and the Otherworld: the two were delicately interwoven, each dependent on the other. The Paradise War crosses the thin places between this world and that, as Lewis Gillies comes face-to-face with an ancient mystery--and a cosmic catastrophe in the making.

The World of Riverside by Ellen Kushner (1987-2002)

On the treacherous streets of Riverside, a man lives and dies by the sword. Even the nobles on the Hill turn to duels to settle their disputes. Within this elite, dangerous world, Richard St. Vier is the undisputed master, as skilled as he is ruthless—until a death by the sword is met with outrage instead of awe, and the city discovers that the line between hero and villain can be altered in the blink of an eye.

The Tarot Sequence by K. D. Edwards (2018-present)

Rune Saint John, last child of the fallen Sun Court, is hired to search for Lady Judgment's missing son, Addam, on New Atlantis, the island city where the Atlanteans moved after ordinary humans destroyed their original home.

With his companion and bodyguard, Brand, he questions Addam's relatives and business contacts through the highest ranks of the nobles of New Atlantis. But as they investigate, they uncover more than a missing man: a legendary creature connected to the secret of the massacre of Rune's Court.

In looking for Addam, can Rune find the truth behind his family's death and the torments of his past?

Bardic Voices by Mercedes Lackey (1992-1997)

With the proper schooling young Rune would be one of the greatest bards her world has ever seen. Even if only she knows it. Unfortunately, the daughter of a tavern wench at the Hungry Bear, no matter how talented, doesn't get much in the way of formal training. What she does get is frustrated. 

One night, to back up a brag she probably wouldn't have made if she weren't so mad, she went up to play her fiddle for the Ghost of Skull Hill. Everyone knows that no one who has ever gone up Skull Hill has come down again. Not alive, anyway. 

But when the ghost appears Rune Strikes a bargain: if the ghost tires of her playing before morning her life is his; if he is still listening when the sun glints over yonder hill she will have earned both life and a sack of silver. Let the music begin...

The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris (1998-2010)

Life for the young orphan Terence has been peaceful, living with Trevisant, the old Hermit in a quiet, isolated wood.

That is, until the day a strange green sprite leads him to Gawain, King Arthur's nephew, who is on his way to Camelot hoping to be knighted. Trevisant can see the future and knows that Terence must leave to serve as Gawain's squire. From that moment on, Terence's life is filled with heart-stopping adventure as he helps damsels-in-distress, fights battles with devious men, and protects King Arthur from his many enemies.

Along the way, Terence is amazed at his skills and new-found magical abilities. Were these a gift from his unknown parents? As Gawain continues his quest for knighthood, Terence searches for answers to the riddles in his own past.

[colourstreakgryffin]

KNY Hashira Shitpost; Merfolk AU

You see! I watched the live action of “the Little Mermaid” yesterday and wanted to change the Hashira into merpeople so ya!

The Hashira

Under the phrase “Hashira”, nine merpeople are the personal guardians of the Royal Ubuyashiki family and the kingdom the Ubuyashikis rule from dangerous life like sharks, eels, serpent/octopus monsters, etc.

The Hashira use weapons like katanas and staffs to fend off these threats. Three of the Hashira use different weapons for their own comfortability

The Hashira guard the kingdom at night and kill those creatures to ensure the merpeople race aren’t further killed

All merpeople have hydrokinetic magic powered by lunar energy. Through moonstone pendants, they can bend water, control sealife and alternate swimming speeds

Sea monsters’ magic is ten times stronger than merpeople, but have a bigger mental affect. Darkness corrupts their mindsets quicker

Tomioka Giyuu

Giyuu is a cobalt blue zebrafish merman

Spends a lot of his spare time collecting rare ores and shells to make them into gifts to give to Tanjiro and Nezuko

Giyuu has his own private cave, that basically all the Hashira plus the Royal family don’t know about. He can get away from socialisation and recollect himself in silence

Kocho Shinobu

Shinobu is a teardrop butterflyfish merwoman

Cleans up toxic waste with the butterfly girls in her free time, for all to be recycled into poisons she uses in her missions

Shinobu can’t stand being above the seawater for too long, the sun is too hot and the air makes her skin feel itchy. She is very petty with her needs

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro is a firefish goby merman

Gathers and brings back round troubled sealife to the sea. He feels required to make sure the innocent beings of the waters are safe

Kyojuro spends pretty much all his free time with his little brother, sightseeing the land people at the beach

Tengen Uzui

Tengen is a mandarinfish merman

His overall style is so flamboyant and over-the-top, that most are blinded by the mere sight of him

Tengen, with his excellently-singing wives, create music for the underwater kingdom and hosts his own music club

Tokito Muichiro

Muichiro is a transparent surgeon fish merman

Gets lost so often that the Hashira have to drench his tail in sticking glowing dust to track him down more easily

Muichiro always runs into those dangerous creatures like sharks and octopus, but ends up playing with them

Kanroji Mitsuri

Mitsuri is a bubblegum pink betta fish merwoman

Loves decorating tails and hairs of her fellow merwomen and is very skilled at the art. She can groom tails in a few minutes tops

Mitsuri has a incredibly beautiful singing voice and makes up random catchy songs on the fly to sing as she swims

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei is a stonefish monster+gray snapper merman hybrid

This merbeing hybrid can easily withstand the pressure of the deeper waters and studies the sea life deeper below

Gyomei has very poisonous spines all over his tail so he has to be very weary of contact with other merpeople

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Sanemi is a blackwing flying fish merman

A very speedy swimmer and can make a gliding jump for 350m at a time. His sleek tail and fins help double his speed

Sanemi spends lot of his time tracking down threats to take care of them, even outside of his duty as a Hashira, since it’s fun to him

Iguro Obanai

Obanai is a banded sea serpent monster+swordtail fish merman hybrid

Uses his magic a lot as it’s a effective way to restrain the enemies, but eventually has to be restrained himself until that mental effect disappears

Obanai covers his mouth with special seaweed and has it as precaution bandages, incase he comes across a injured being

[nightbunnysong]

Music artists that always make me fell happy and alive

Empire of the sun ☀️

Empire of the Sun's music has a unique ability to evoke feelings of genuine happiness and carefreeness through its dreamy, uplifting soundscapes and vibrant energy. Their use of bright synths, catchy melodies, and rhythmic beats creates a sense of escapism that transports you to a world of positivity and joy. The lyrics often carry a message of optimism and wonder, while their fusion of electronic and pop elements adds a playful, lighthearted vibe. Together, these elements form an immersive experience that feels effortless and liberating, making their music a go-to for boosting your mood.

Charly XCX ☀️

Charli XCX's music channels that 2014 Tumblr "bad bitch" energy straight into your veins with her unapologetic attitude, bold lyrics, and futuristic production. Her sound is a mix of hyper-pop, edgy beats, and rebellious vibes that make you feel empowered and unstoppable. Songs like Von Dutch and Roll With Me blend sass, confidence, and a carefree spirit that taps into that iconic Tumblr aesthetic — where neon lights, internet culture, and self-expression ruled. It's a blend of nostalgia and raw power, giving you that fearless, no-holds-barred energy.

Pitbull ☀️

Pitbull’s music is all about bringing that larger-than-life party energy, making you feel like you’re unstoppable and ready to take over the world. With his infectious beats, high-energy rhythms, and signature catchphrases, Pitbull’s tracks instantly make you want to hit the dance floor and live in the moment. His blend of Latin influence, rap, and pop creates an atmosphere of celebration and confidence, like you're in the middle of an endless summer night. Mr. Worldwide makes you feel like you own every room you walk into, exuding charisma and that "let’s get it" attitude. Dale!!

Gigi D’Agostino ☀️

Gigi D'Ag and Eurodance hold a special place in the hearts of Europeans because they capture the essence of an era defined by freedom, unity, and unfiltered emotional. Tracks like L’Amour Toujours and Bla Bla Bla are timeless anthems that blend catchy, melodic beats with euphoric rhythms, creating a sense of shared nostalgia. Eurodance, with its high-energy beats and uplifting vocals, became the soundtrack of youth for many across Europe, reflecting a time when borders blurred through music and collective joy was found in clubs and festivals. Gigi D'Agostino, in particular, infused emotional depth into the genre, adding that signature Italian flair, making his tracks feel both intimate and universally epic. It's more than just music—it's a cultural phenomenon that speaks to unity, joy, and a love for life.

AVICII ☀️

yeah and now I'm crying

The music of the early 2010s by artists like David Guetta, Avicii, Calvin Harris, Ellie Goulding, and WALK THE MOON captured a sense of carefree joy and happiness that defined the era. These songs were upbeat, infectious, and full of energy, making you want to dance, celebrate, and live in the moment.

Whether it was the euphoric beats of Guetta’s and Harris' EDM anthems or the heartfelt, sing-along lyrics of WALK THE MOON’s Shut Up and Dance, the music had a way of lifting your spirits and making everything feel light and fun. Avicii’s tracks blended folk melodies with electronic drops, giving a sense of freedom and adventure, while Ellie Goulding’s dreamy voice added a sense of wonder and optimism to every song she touched.

In essence, these artists created a soundtrack for good times — nights out with friends, summer festivals, and spontaneous road trips. Their music evoked a carefree, almost timeless joy, transporting listeners to a place where worries faded away and the focus was on pure, unfiltered fun.

[photos from Pinterest]

[polaroid-sorcery]

Hazbin Hotel and Tangled the series parallels

・Charlie / Rapunzel

Both Charlie and Rapunzel have a generally very positive attitude. They are friendly and always try to see the good in people. For Charlie, she’s all about second chances and redemption. For Rapunzel, she always tries to help everyone. Also, Charlie and Rapunzel aren’t one to back down from a fight. They are brave and go against injustice.

Personalities aside, both of them are princesses. Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer and the princess Hell. Rapunzel is the daughter of the King and Queen, which makes her the princess of Corona.

Beside their titles, we cannot deny the similarities in appearance. They both have long blonde hair and wear it in almost exactly the same way. Only Charlie’s hair isn’t as long as Rapunzel’s when it’s not put together in the braid-hairstyle-thingy.

・Vaggie / Cassandra

Personally, I think the biggest similarity between Vaggie and Cassandra is the secret-keeping part of their story.

Vaggie is revealed to be an angel who has fallen from grace.

Cassandra is revealed to be the daughter of Gothel.

Though their secrets have nothing in common, it’s not so much about the actual secret than it is about the way they handle the secret. Vaggie never told Charlie about the fact that she was an angel and part of the exterminations. Cassandra didn’t know she was Gothel’s daughter for the majority of her life and after she does find out she doesn’t tell Rapunzel. She keeps it a secret until the final moment when she takes charge of her own destiny.

So yes, the secrets are different, the reveal of the secrets is different too, but the fact they both keep a secret from their blonde (girl)friend stays the same.

・Lucifer / Varian

The most obvious similarity is, of course, the voice actor. Lucifer and Varian are both voiced by the talented Jeremy Jordan.

One of the easy to spot parallels is the character introduction. Both characters are introduced in a suspenseful way. Meant to intimidate the viewer, only for it to show the actual character a few seconds later, which turns out to be a dorky inventor.

When we are introduced to Lucifer, the music is a tad menacing and the whole shot tries to be dark and mysterious, like the all-powerful Lucifer, only to show him being proud of his rubber duckie, completely shattering expectations for this dark entity. Varian is introduced in a very similar way. He is presented as this threatening figure, only to reveal he’s just a 14-year-old who cares about science (alchemy, specifically)

On top of that, Lucifer and Varian are both inventors. Lucifer spends his time creating rubber duckies. Anyone who knows Varian, knows inventions aren’t his main thing. He’s all about the science of things, alchemy is his speciality. Still, Varian did recreate the automatons and made other machines across the series.

・Ready For This / Ready As I’ll Ever Be / Through It All

All three songs have the same core: a song to get ready for battle, but all three go about it differently. Ready For This and Through It All match the most. Both songs are upbeat songs meant to rally the troops. At this point in the story the characters are getting ready to face a threat and spreading motivation.

Charlie is actively gathering souls to fight with her against the Extermination, whereas Rapunzel is trying to lift everyone’s spirits before they leave to go to the castle.

Ready As I’ll Ever Be still matches in terms of its core: prepare for battle, but goes about it in a different way. Both Ready For This and Through It All are songs sung by the protagonist with a large ensemble to back them up as the song progresses. Ready As I’ll Ever Be is sung from different perspectives from different characters: Varian, Cassandra, Rapunzel, King Frederic. Only towards the end everyone harmonises because they all have one thing in common: they are ready as they’ll ever be to face whatever the opponent throws at them. But still, each character has a different motivation to fight. Honestly, I could go on and on about how great of a song this is, but then this post would get way too long.

・Destiny

A big part of the plot of Tangled the series revolves around destiny, especially in the second and third season it discusses Rapunzel’s destiny a lot. For most of season three the plot is all about destiny. Cassandra’s turn to the dark side, Zhan Tiri being brought back to life, the final battle. It’s all connected to the concept of destiny and how Rapunzel has to be the one to end it.

Hazbin Hotel doesn’t have the same focus on destiny like Tangled the series. Instead, it is only referenced in passing and not part of any discussion (if I remember correctly)

Here are some examples of talk about destiny in Hazbin Hotel songs:

Mentioned in Happy Day In Hell:

“Uh no thank you, I’m just gonna fulfill my destiny!”

Mentioned in Ready For This:

“I can come into my own, and I think I’ve always known my destiny could never be postponed”

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Pajarito in a cage ♦️

One shot written in a spur of a moment, because I had an idea and an evil OC hyperixation. Also something different than birdies for 7000 hits ^^

Summary:

The Evil Queen of Diamond Helena has defeated the Clover Kingdom and took many prisoners. Prisoners she likes to toy with. However one stubborn pajarito is not so keen to kneel. A challenge leads to a beginning of a dangerous game...

The illustration is the Queen of Diamonds Helena card

Evilena lore before the one shot

Type: One shot

Word count: 1104

Song: Ariana Grande - Dangerous Woman I listened to this on an unrelated note, but found it fitting.

Ao3 link

The attack on Clover was a success. How could it not be? Helena had planned it for years. She would say that it was for the good of her people, that the lands of their enemies were more fertile, that they could help Diamond grow. The truth was she wanted to play, wanted a challenge and wished to see her strategy come true. It was just her way, whatever Helena had planned it always worked out her way. Any disappointments… they did not happen, she could not recollect any. She was not emotional, only calculating. That was why her behavior seemed strange even to herself. 

Why would she go down to the cells, where she kept her imprisoned enemies? Most of them feared her, those were boring, but then there was this one man, whose stare was colder than her own. She sensed hate just emanating from him. He had every right to despise her, the man was one of the captains, one of those most powerful in Clover and yet all it took was taking his baby sister, who did not know how to use her magic to make him squirm. Helena paid specific attention to that family. Their mother used to be friends with Helena’s and helped her in the time of need. That was why Helena decided to not kill, or maim the siblings. It was a token of gratitude, if she ever had that feeling. 

Not really, Helena bounced off from excitement, getting intrigued and strategising. She would choose her next prey and when that one yielded, she would move onto her next one. However her current prey was being… difficult to say at least. 

She ordered her staff to leave her alone as she walked down the stone stairs through the insides of the mountain that the Diamond’s Royal Castle was built on. Her long red sleeves touched the steps dripping from them as in a river of blood. A river that she had certainly filled. Her heels echoed on the stones. The prisoners knew who was coming. 

When Helena finally reached her destination she smirked. It was not the kind type, confident, cocky, arrogant, but never compassionate. She did not have this kind of emotion.

“How are you doing pajarito?” She chirped as she approached a cell. This one was separated from others, special. Her little birdie in a cage. Birdie whose lilac gaze wished to execute her on sight. It amused her. 

The man was standing up in the more shaded part of the cell. A small ray of light hit him reflecting from a collar on his neck. A piece of clothing he refused to get rid off. She was curious, because she would wear a collar of her own. A silver one. Did the man have something to hide? She looked at his shaded posture. He was slim, maybe not the tallest one, but taller than Helena. His palms were clenched into fists.

Cold. 

Helena felt an excited chill go down her spine. 

She approached the bars, a confident smirk on her face.

“Say hello pajarito. You’re a Royal, you should know basic etiquette,” there was no answer from the man. “You’re silent,” she accentuated the fake sad note in her tone. “It’s breaking my heart.”

“We both know that you do not have one,” a low voice came from the shadows and cut through the air.

“He speaks?” Helena chuckled. She let her hand linger over the bar, before gripping onto it. “Come closer pajarito. Your queen commands you.”

“You are no queen of mine,” he would not listen.

“Ouch,” she sobbed, gripping another bar with her free hand. 

Slow footsteps and the man came out of the shadows.

He wore a white tunic, ripped in a couple places. Even though Helena provided him with some new clothes, he had refused to wear them, so the staff continued washing that same old tunic. Clothes of his House. Prideful birdie. He had long, silver hair. It was let loose and while the lower part fell down his shoulders, up front messy strands covered his straight nose and narrow lilac eyes. They were pretty, like gems Helena adored. Diamonds were a girl's best friend, especially their queen. Thin brows were furrowed and the man’s lips pressed together. Sharp chin, defined jawline.

He looked her straight in the eyes. Once again no fear. Her prey was stubborn.

“Why are you doing this?” The man hissed. 

“I don’t know what you mean pajarito,” Helena smiled innocently, pressing herself closer to the bars, letting them touch her chest. She felt their cold on her skin. Exciting, especially since the man’s eyes followed and just for a moment hung upon her shapes. She was satisfied. Yet another perk to wearing revealing clothes. 

“You keep on pestering me,” a sharp tongue that birdie had. 

“Pestering? I would say you should be honored, that I dedicate my time to come see you pajarito,” Helena smirked. She let go of the bar and went even further, moving her hand between the magic nullifying rods inside the cell as if to caress the man’s jaw. 

A split of a second. It was enough for the man to grab and yank her at the bars of the cell. Long fingers were wrapped around her wrist. Helena hit the bar with her nose, her head spun a bit and arm hurt. 

Drip, drip.

A metallic taste of blood reached her lips, her own blood. It was boiling. She looked up, her gaze dangerous. The man kept on holding her arm, his touch was forceful, digging into her skin and flesh. Lilac eyes focused on her and they would not drop. 

“Let me go pajarito,” she spoke sweetly.

“That is not my name,” his tone was low and had a slight hoarse to it. 

“I know,” Helena said. “However, you've never introduced yourself to me, so I gave you a nickname. It’s affectionate pajarito.”

“Nozel,” he hissed. 

“Nozel,” Helena repeated, accentuating the syllables. 

“The eldest son of the Royal House of Silva, captain of the Silver Eagles,” the man continued.

“Helena,” she stated. “Helena Drazel-Almaz, the Queen of Diamond. The pleasure is mine, Nozel Silva.”

Forcefully the man let go of her arm. 

“Begone,” his voice was bitter. 

Helena pulled her arm back. She shook it to get some blood coursing again and smirked.

“I’ll indulge you this time paja- Nozel,” Helena lowered her voice. “But don’t worry I’ll be back.”

She turned around ready to leave.

“Don’t,” a sharp voice reached her.

Helena chuckled. Part one of her strategy accomplished. Her prey started talking to her. 

[blakeswritingimagines]

Kink List With Shiera Seastar

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

If needed, she'll offer comforting words, reminding you of your strength and the pleasure you brought each other. Her voice is warm and reassuring, helping to ease any post-sex jitters or vulnerability. As you both gradually unwind, she might suggest a relaxing bath together, or simply lying entwined under the covers, enjoying quiet conversation or contented silence. Shiera believes in nurturing the emotional connection just as much as the physical, ensuring both partners feel cherished and fulfilled.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Shiera has a fondness for her own curves, particularly her hips and the way they sway when she moves with confidence. The attention paid to these features during lovemaking never fails to send shivers through her. And when it comes to her partner's body parts well, let's just say she has a special fondness for hands that know how to caress and explore. There's nothing quite like having those skillful digits trace over every curve and contour of her body, igniting sparks of pleasure everywhere they go.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

When the heat builds to a fever pitch and climax approaches, Shiera lets out breathy moans, her back arching as ecstasy crashes through her. She might bury her face against a pillow to muffle cries of rapture or throw her head back in abandon, reveling in the raw passion overtaking her. Her release is always intense, leaving her trembling and gasping. Shiera's orgasms are a beautiful sight - flushed skin glistening with exertion, eyes glazed with euphoria, lips parted around sighs of pure satisfaction.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When she's completely alone, indulging in some solo playtime, she loves to use a certain toy shaped like a golden trident. The phallic design sends shivers down her spine, and the weight of it in her hand feels incredibly empowering. She'll often imagine it belongs to a powerful sea god, bestowing its divine favor upon her as she brings herself to heights of pleasure.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Shiera is a seasoned lover, possessing a wealth of experience and knowledge gained from countless encounters. She's honed her skills over many years, learning what works best for her and you through trial and error, experimentation, and a keen intuition for pleasure.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Shiera particularly enjoys the 69 position. She finds great pleasure in being able to reciprocate oral pleasures with you while also receiving her own. The intimacy of facing one another, eye-to-eye contact during this act, and the ability to deepen the connection through shared moans and sighs makes it all the more arousing for her.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

While Shiera certainly knows how to be serious and sensual when the mood strikes, she also has a playful side that emerges during intimate moments. She loves to keep things fun and flirty, especially in the aftermath of a passionate encounter. She might even break into an impromptu song or dance, her naked body gyrating in a way that's equal parts ridiculous and irresistible. These goofy interludes serve to reaffirm the bond you share, reminding you both that even in the heat of the moment, you can still find joy and levity in each other's company.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Shiera maintains her long, flowing locks with meticulous care, ensuring they're always tangle-free and perfectly styled. Whether she opts for loose waves cascading down her back or sleek strands pulled up into a messy bun, her hair always complements her ethereal beauty. And yes, the carpet matches the drapes—her luxurious locks extend down to her lower back, providing ample coverage during intimate moments.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

During moments of intimacy, Shiera becomes a vision of romance. Her movements are graceful yet passionate, a delicate balance of tenderness and need. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer, her breasts pressing against your chest. Her eyes, usually bright and playful, soften with affection as she gazes at you. Her lips part slightly, inviting you to capture them in a deep kiss, her tongue swirling with yours in a dance as old as time. The scent of her perfume, a blend of ocean mist and wildflowers fills your senses, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere. As she guides your hands to explore her curves, she murmurs sweet nothings against your skin, her voice a melody that soothes and excites in equal measure.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When Shiera engages in self-pleasure, she takes her time, savoring every touch and stroke. She starts off slowly, running her fingers along her body, tracing the outline of her curves before dipping lower to tease her nipples into hard peaks. As her arousal grows, she delves deeper, slipping a finger inside her wetness, circling her clit with deliberate intent. She might hum softly to herself, lost in the rhythm of her own making, or whisper words of encouragement under her breath.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

She thrives on control, whether it's taking charge during lovemaking sessions or relinquishing control to a dominant partner who knows precisely how to handle her.

She also enjoys roleplaying, often assuming the persona of a noble queen commanding her subjects' undivided attention and devotion.

But perhaps her most surprising kink involves water sports. Yes, you read that right – she gets turned on by being urinated on, finding the sensation of warm liquid trickling down her thighs incredibly arousing. It's a taboo fetish that only adds to her enigmatic allure.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Shiera has a penchant for unconventional locations, choosing settings that heighten the sense of danger and excitement. A secluded beach, with the sound of crashing waves serving as a backdrop, is one of her favorite spots. The sand beneath her feet, the salty air filling her lungs, and the vast expanse of ocean stretching out before her. However, if push comes to shove, Shiera is equally content to indulge in some steamy escapades in her own bedroom. After all, there's something undeniably sexy about the familiar surroundings transformed into a playground of carnal delights.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

She's highly responsive to displays of confidence and assertiveness. There's something undeniably enticing about a person who knows what you want and isn't afraid to go after it. Watching you take control, your eyes locked onto hers with a fiery determination sends a thrill coursing through her veins. Shiera revels in the unexpected. She loves surprises, both in terms of location and technique.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shiera has a few firm 'no-go' zones when it comes to intimacy. For starters, she despises insensitivity and lack of respect. Any attempt to treat her like just another conquest, rather than a unique individual, will be met with immediate rejection. She also draws the line between violence and pain for pleasure's sake. While she may enjoy the occasional roughhousing, she doesn't crave physical harm. Her body is sacred ground, and she expects her partners to treat it with reverence.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Shiera is an oral enthusiast, relishing both the act of giving and receiving. She finds immense pleasure in pleasuring others with her mouth, her tongue dancing across sensitive flesh with a skill honed over years of practice.

When engaging in cunnilingus, she takes her time, lavishing attention on every fold and crevice of her lover's pussy. She's particularly fond of teasing the clitoris, using her teeth and lips to create a delicious mix of pleasure and tension.

On the blowing/sucking end, Shiera is equally skilled. She's not shy about returning the favor, wrapping her lips around a throbbing cock and sucking with a fervor that leaves her partners breathless. Her throat is elastic and accommodating, allowing her to take impressive lengths without gagging.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Shiera's pace is as versatile as her appetite for adventure. She can be fast and frenzied, driven by a primal hunger that demands satisfaction immediately. In these moments, she moves with a ferocity that borders on wild abandon, her hips slamming against your own with a force that rattles the bed frame. Alternatively, she can be slow and sensual, drawing out each thrust and caress until it feels like an eternity stretched between two lovers. She revels in the buildup, the anticipation of the release, savoring every second of the journey towards a climax.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Shiera has a love-hate relationship with quickies. On one hand, she appreciates the spontaneity and raw intensity that comes with a sudden, passionate encounter. There's something thrilling about giving in to impulse, about surrendering to desire without the luxury of foreplay or preparation.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She's not afraid to try something once, even if it makes her uncomfortable or uncertain. Her curiosity drives her to push boundaries, to test the limits of pleasure and pain. She sees each experience as a chance to learn more about herself and her desires. Moreover, Shiera thrives on the element of surprise. Whether it's a new position, a kinky toy, or a daring location, she loves the unpredictability of the unknown. The thrill of the chase, the suspense of the reveal – it's all part of the game for her.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

In the heat of passion, she can easily sustain multiple rounds of lovemaking, each one as intense and fulfilling as the last. Her refractory period is virtually nonexistent, allowing her to bounce back quickly and maintain a high level of arousal throughout the entire encounter.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Shiera has a well-stocked arsenal of sexual toys, each one carefully selected to cater to her diverse tastes and desires. From vibrators and dildos to anal beads and nipple clamps, her collection is a testament to her adventurous spirit and unquenchable thirst for novelty. While she enjoys using toys on herself during solo play, Shiera is equally enthusiastic about incorporating them into partnered activities. She delights in watching you explore and master various implements, finding great pleasure in guiding your hands and teaching you the art of effective toy usage.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Shiera is a master of teases, relishing in the power she holds to draw out pleasure and torment you with tantalizingly close touches and promises of what could be. She knows exactly how to push your buttons, and how to make your bodies ache with need while remaining maddeningly out of reach.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Shiera is a vocal lover, unafraid to express her pleasure through a symphony of moans, gasps, and cries of ecstasy. She's not shy about begging for more, her words tumbling out in breathless pleas as she surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. And when she reaches her peak, her cries of rapture echo through the room, a primal declaration of the depths of her pleasure.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Shiera harbors a secret fascination with the idea of a threesome. While she's perfectly content exploring her sexuality alone or with a single partner, there's something undeniably enticing about the prospect of sharing herself with you and another person. The thought of three bodies entwined in carnal delight, the mingling of different flavors and textures, the possibility of discovering new heights of pleasure – it's an allure that she finds hard to resist.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Her pink, erect clit peeks out from its hood, standing proudly amidst the sea of blonde curls. It twitches in anticipation, every tiny movement amplified by the charged atmosphere surrounding her. Despite the air conditioning, a light sheen of sweat coats her skin, accentuating the contours of her body and emphasizing her arousal.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Her libido is a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. She craves the touch, the taste, and the scent of her lovers with an intensity that borders on obsession. Every nerve ending in her body is attuned to pleasure, every cell vibrating with the need for release. Shiera's yearning is a living thing, a creature that prowls the shadows of her mind, whispering seductive promises and tempting her with fantasies of forbidden delights.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After a particularly intense session of lovemaking, Shiera's exhaustion hits her like a tidal wave. The sheer intensity of her orgasm leaves her drained, her limbs heavy and her eyelids drooping. She collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. It doesn't take long for sleep to claim her, her body surrendering to the comforting embrace of unconsciousness. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, becoming slow and steady. Her face relaxes into a peaceful expression, the lines of tension etched across her forehead smoothing out. As she slips into slumber, her body continues to twitch occasionally, caught in the aftershocks of pleasure. Each pulse sends a ripple through her, a final wave crashing onto the shore after a storm.

[demifiendrsa]

Persona 3 Reload | Meet the S.E.E.S. Trailer

Japanese version

Battle BGM & Gameplay Reveal

Japanese with English subs version

Persona 3 Reload will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and PC (Steam, Microsoft Store) February 2, 2024 worldwide. It will also be available via Xbox Game Pass.

The game will be available in the following editions:

Physical Editions

Standard Edition ($69.99)

Base Game

Aigis Edition

Base game

Collector’s box

Art book

Two-disc soundtrack CD

Aigis figure

Downloadable Content Pack – Includes all purchasable additional content for the game. (“Persona 5 Royal Phantom Thieves Costume Set,” “Persona 5 Royal Shujin Academy Costume Set,” “Persona 5 Royal Persona Set 1,” “Persona 5 Royal Persona Set 2,” “Persona 5 Royal Background Music Set,” “Persona 4 Golden Yasogami High Costume Set,” “Persona 4 Golden Persona Set”).

Digital Editions

Standard Edition ($69.99)

Base game

Digital Deluxe Edition ($79.99)

Base game

Digital art book – Filled with 64 pages of character art, concept art, backgrounds and other illustrations from the game.

Digital soundtrack – Listen to newly arranged tracks from the original Persona 3 plus all new tracks from Persona 3 Reload, presented by the ATLUS Sound Team for a total of 60 new songs.

Digital Premium Edition ($99.99)

Base game

Digital art book

Digital soundtrack

Downloadable Content Pack

Users who pre-order any version of the game will receive the “Persona 4 Background Music Set,” which features the following additional tracks:

“A New World Fool”

“I’ll Face Myself -Battle-“

“The Fog”

“Reach Out to the Truth”

“Results”

“Time To Make History”

Latest details

■ Characters

Koromaru (voiced by Shinya Takahashi in Japanese)

A dog who awakens to the power of Persona after a tragic event. Since his original owner—the priest of the dorm’s neighboring Naganaki Shrine—had passed away, the protagonist and friends take him in as a full-fledged member of S.E.E.S.

Clever, loyal, and friendly, he quickly becomes a beloved member of the group. He seems especially close to Aigis—who translates his barks—and Ken Amada, the elementary school student.

In battle, he wields a knife in his mouth. His unique Persona is Cerberus, specializing in dark skills.

Aigis (voiced by Dawn M. Bennett in English, Maaya Sakamoto in Japanese)

A man-made Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapon, 7th Generation. She joins S.E.E.S. as an android with a humanlike heart, granting her the power of Persona.

She harbors a mysterious attachment to the Protagonist from the first day they meet. Initially coming across as cold and robotic, she begins to discover more human emotions through her experiences with the group.

In battle, she fires off an arsenal of weapons built into her mechanical body. Her unique Persona is Palladion, specializing in physical and support skills.

Ken Amada (voiced by Justine Lee in English, Megumi Ogata in Japanese)

The youngest member of S.E.E.S.—a 5th grader at Gekkoukan Elementary. After losing his mother in an accident, he comes to live at the Iwatodai Dorm.

After awakening to his Persona abilities, he joins S.E.E.S. of his own accord. While he strives to act mature with his mannerisms, deep down he is still a child with a passion for superhero TV shows.

In battle, he holds a long spear in contrast to his short stature. His unique Persona is Nemesis, specializing in light skills.

Shinjiro Aragaki (voiced by Justice Slocum in English, Kazuya Nakai in Japanese)

A third-year at Gekkoukan High, though he can rarely be seen at school. He was a founding member of SEES alongside Mitsuru and Akihiko. After distancing himself for about two years, a certain turn of events convinces him to rejoin the group.

While unapproachable at first glance, beneath the gruff exterior is a gentle heart and a knack for cooking. He even has a soft spot for animals, doting on Koromaru when no one is looking.

In battle, he bludgeons with weapons like axes. His unique Persona is Castor, specializing in hard-hitting physical attacks.

■ Key Art and Protagonist’s Battle Uniform Revealed

In Persona 3 Reload, all members of the Special Extracurricular Execution Squad (S.E.E.S.) now don new battle uniforms when taking on Tartarus.

The newly revealed key art depicts the protagonist in his new outfit alongside his Persona, Thanatos. The iconic S.E.E.S armbands have also been redesigned to match the updated battle uniform.

[luxuriouscharms]

I can’t help but love you (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader)

Pairing: The Darkling x Special Grisha!reader

Universe: The Grishaverse/Shadow and bone

Summary: He realises he’s in love with you and so do you.

Key note: Please play the listed songs for better experience. Also the striked words are the songs to be played, if followed, a better experience is assured.

Songs:  1. Cinnamon Girl (Lana Del Rey) 2. Cherry (Lana Del Rey) 3. War of Hearts [Acoustic] (Ruelle)

—————————————————————————————

cinnamon girl

The room was filled with people, laughing, talking and enjoying themselves. She moved a dirty blonde strip of her hair from her face and looked around. This was all familiar in a new way. A  way she has never been in. Maybe the punishment to her sins aren’t that bad if this is it. She took a glass of wine and sipped it slowly taking in the details of the room. The music changed into a slow one and she noticed people getting into couples, women having one of their hands on the shoulders of men and the other in their upper arm.  

“Excuse-me, ma’am” she heard a masculine voice next to her. She turned to look at a man, atleast 4 inches taller than her, his brown hair slicked back neatly smiling at her.

“May I help you,” she responded back in the best “elegant” voice she could. This new cover has been quite the task for her, as being an elegant woman was the exact opposite she was told to do her whole life.

“It would quite please me if I could have this dance with you,” he told her, raising his hand, asking for her permission.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but i’ve never danced before,” she said him her truth as her lips went into a thin line.

“Well, that will have to change tonight,” he smiled and took her hand in his and placed her other one in her shoulder as he slowly led her to the dance floor.

“Oh well, as long as you dont charge me for the damage i cause in your legs,” she shrugged as she gave a playful smile and let him lead her.

Now, who would not love such a punishment. It was true that she had never danced before, she never had the chance. She doubts most Grisha gets the chance to, afterall they grow up being taught to protect and fight. She smiled at where she was now but soon it had to be ruined as people heard screams outside the room. The music muffled the noise but it was still audible to hear them.

She froze as she looked at outside of the building. It was getting darker and darker every second and it could only mean one thing.

He was back.

Soon, the room darkened and a figure came through the shadows. Everyone knew who it was, it was The Darkling. The same man who destructed many families of people in the very same room. Of hers too.

cherry

She looked at his arising form with mixed emotions in her eyes. He came out of the dark and searched around the room when his eyes finally met hers. His grey orbs then skimmed to her hands that were on top of the man next to her. Her quick instinct was to take them off him making the man responsible for her reactions smirk. He looked around once more and swiftly moved his hands, she realised what he was doing and screamed, “No.” as her eyes widened.

In a swift move, her hands moved in a V shape and a shield arise from her hands shielding the whole room from his dark presence. He was moved back in a gush of air due to the excess use of power as his hands shielded his face.  He looked back at her and said,

“This is the only way to do it, remove the shield and we shall disappear.” His statement rang through her ears as she fumed at him. He had the audacity to do this just after killing millions and making her having to disguise herself for his consequences.

“I can erase their memory of our presence.” She stated as she looked into his eyes. His eyes searched hers in amusement and soon his lips broke into a playful yet proud smile as he questioned,

“You can do that now, huh? Well the make it fast, we’ve got places to be and things to discuss.”

She looked at him one last time before moving her hands, as green light broke out of her palms, her eyes emitting a bright shade of green. Soon, everyone in the room fell down into a slumber except for herself and the dark presence across her. He took a look around him as he strolled closer to her,

“What did you do,” he asked looking into her eyes as he came closer than he should but it wasn’t new for her.

“A litte trick that i learned a few weeks ago,” she told him looking back at his eyes. He look at her and sighed.

He took a strand of her hair falling on her face and said,

“That’s not what i asked. What did u do to your hair.”

Realisation swimmed in her eyes and she caught his arm and snatched it away from her face, from her now blonde hair.

“A consequence of your actions.” She stated glaring at his eyes. His eyes moved as he looked at hers and he stepped back,

“You look absolutely gorgeous, but put my colour back on” He whispered before starting to move towards “the places they have to be”.

She looked at his walking figure and remembered the pitch black hair she once had. Something about it always made him feel superior, one of the reasons she loved having to colour her hair to disguise herself. Especially when she could simply do it and blame it on him.

She slowly strolled behind him forgetting the life she had just a few minutes earlier. What else could be done for he is here now.

As soon as she skipped to his pace, his hands moved in a swift motion as darkness engulfed them both. They both were now in a place that looked like a hut but with better interior. She looked out the window and say darkness and shadows of creatures walking around, screeching and flying.  She realised where they were and her voice was caught in her throat. If her little trick was amazing this was terrific, both in a huge and a bad way.

“Who was it.” She turned to him, her eyes confused as she watched him remove his coat.

“Who���s who.” She questioned back at him as her brows formed into a frown. He looked up at her and murmured slowly, “The guy you were with.” Her gaze turned more confused at his sudden interest.

“A gentleman who was willing to teach me how to slow dance,” she said.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Not long enough for me to actually learn it, because you just had to interrupt,” she said coldly to him.

He chuckled at her as his head went low and back again to looking at her.

“Well why don’t you spend some more time with him for a while,” he asked at her smiling.

She frowned more in confusion as he continued,

“Surely, you can still get into you fantasy lands right.” he said.

She looked down for a moment and realised he was referring to her ability to reimagine realities. She can imagine herself in clouds while simply sitting in her bed. She slowly looked up at him and saw his hand raised towards her. She hesitated for a minute but her heart did not as her hand reached on top of his palm. Within the blink of her eye, they were outside among the monsters he created out of shadows. He noticed at her wary look and said,

“They will be of no disturbance,” She turned to look at him and asked, “what about the musics.”

He smiled, as his other hand removed the wooden stick that had her hair in a neat bun, making her hair flow down, like she usually had her hair when it was black and placed his hand on her hips bringing her closer as he whispered,

“Why don’t you bring the very same one you were listening to,” His eyes moved in a quick movement looking into hers, wanting to take in both her emerald ones.

war of hearts (acoustic)

She closed her eyes as he lowered his head, making both their foreheads to meet. Soon, slow piano flowed  into their ears and his legs started to lead both their legs.

“Come to me in the night hours

I will wait for you”

Never once did his eyes leave hers even when they were closed. She slowly opened her eyes and tried to put herself into the fantasy land where the very same man she owns a deep hatred in her heart would be that man that managed to steal her eyes even if it’s only for seconds.

“Thoughts of you consume”

But it was not happening. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him no matter how much she tried.  She couldn’t go back to that ball, to that man. They both remained dancing, even though surrounded by darkness and monsters they were still captivated into each other’s souls, their eyes being the doorway…

“I can’t help but love you,

even though I try not to”

Her eyes skimmed through the scars in his face, an aftermath. He was in pain, she could see it. His head was crippling in pain, a pain as a consequence of consumption of power beyond one should hold. A pain that can only be cured by more absorption of the very same darkness he holds.

“Stay with me, a little longer”

She was scared of what she was doing while he was fooled that she was being in fantasies of another man while dancing with him. The eyes of her held empathy, he convinced himself it was not for him and that she wasn’t looking at him. But something in his heart craved for the look in her eyes, the eyes that held so much light in them, ironic to what he was.

“Oh, oh, oh”

As every second passed, his pain suppressed through the music. For a second he thought it was the music healing it but when he looked at her glowing eyes, he realised it was her doing. Unconsciously, she was holding his pain back which made him realise she wasn’t in her fantasies and was very much present in the moment with him. “What did you do.” He asked her, as his pain was nothing but a memory now.

“A consequence of my mistake,” she stated.

“I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to”

His walls broke, as his eyes opened the doorway and gave a peek of his soul to her. The shattered one, terribly shattered than his face. He realised that he had let his guard down and regained his composure, stopping his legs from moving to the music. Their eyes, never leaving each others was now holding an intense look. A stubborn one, an interaction they would have never imagined with each other.

Just for once, he craved her. He craved her eyes to look at him the same way, their intertwined hands to be stitched together. He craved for him to be able to touch more of her and for the first time he was greedy for something that wasn’t power and it made him fear for what shall come next. For what she was made of.

“I can’t help but want oceans to part

Because i’m overcome this war of hearts”