#so uh. if y'all have any ideas please comment!

[leilani-lily]

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 9)

A thousand apologies my dearest does and bucks ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

This took much longer than anticipated; I hit a bit of a wall, and time escaped from me. But we're here! We trekkin' on! The story continues \( ᐖ)/

.... And we're actually splitting this into 3 rather than 2 because over 6k later and we're still not done yet so ahaha! Whoopsies~ (´∀｀);

｡°⚠︎°｡ Final note. This is a WARNING that this chapter includes mention of VIOLENCE, GORE, and SEXUAL ASSAULT so please read with caution if this is a trigger for you!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Thank you all for your love and support, honestly ꨄ I've been feeling down lately and re-reading comments has really helped to boost my spirits and push me to keep going! I love y'all dearly ( •̯́ v •̯̀)♡

OK! Without further ado~ SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You venture off on your own to grab Alastor's gift, unaware of the dangers to follow... Word Count: 6.2k Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your feet pounded on the pavement below you and you jogged towards the coffee stall. Your eyes were sharp and alert and your grip on Alastor’s microphone tight. You knew you had to be quick and extra careful now being on your own. But surprisingly enough, you weren’t afraid. Your blood was pumping with adrenaline, and with Alastor’s staff, you felt more powerful than you ever had in your entire life. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

Dodging in between sinners and recognizing landmarks, you were able to find the vendor in question without any problems. You breathed a sigh of relief, coming to a stop in front of the display table and taking a moment to catch your breath. A large, older imp with a white goatee raised an eyebrow at you questioningly from behind the counter. Finally, you stand up straight and give him a quick smile before your eyes flickered over everything he had to offer. 

As much as you enjoyed some of the quirky mugs on display, you knew in your heart what you really wanted. The problem is, you only knew the bare basics about coffee; you had no idea what made a good machine or not. You glanced around at all of the modern tech and felt your shoulders sag. Alastor would hate all of these; you needed something from his time; something more classical. 

“Somethin’ ya looking fer in pa’ticular dollface?”

You lifted your head to the imp across from you. He was leaning against the table with his other hand on his hip, his eyes tired and dull. You gave him a sheepish grin, clearing your throat quickly. 

“Ah, yes please…” you start, “This might sound weird. I’m looking for something from the 30’s that helps to brew coffee.” a thought crossed your mind, and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat, “I… uh. Actually. I don’t even know what they used back then… A kettle? Or some sort of special press…?” Your eyes drifted down awkwardly. Satan’s Ass, you have no idea what the Hell you’re looking for. This guy’s gonna think you’re an idiot. 

To your relief the imp said nothing, but you could tell he was judging you hard. He looked you up and down before simply shrugging off the table and turning on the spot. He began to shuffle through the shelving unit behind him, tea kettles and mugs clattering as he searched. The imp spoke to you over his shoulder.

“Ehhh, I don’ know girlie. I know I had somethin’ a while ago, but might’ve been snatched already.” he shuffled some more, “Antiques like dat are hard ta find, n’ when ya do, dey sell pretty quickly. Humans n’ nostalgia n’ all ‘at.” 

You could feel your fingers fidgeting nervously; you really hoped you didn’t just risk your safety for nothing. The excitement from earlier was beginning to fizzle out with the thought of not being successful. Maybe you could get him a nice mug instead? Or maybe one of those cute, little stirring spoons…

“Well I’ll be blessed th’n damned again…”

You looked up to the seller to see him turn around, a crooked smile on his face as he held what looked like two glass pots connected like an hour-glass. Your eyes widened in amazement at the strange looking contraption. 

“Called a ‘Silex Vacuum Siphon’. D’know what year it’s from, but ya ain't gonna find something more vintage den dis, I can guarantee.”

You tucked Alastor’s mike under your arm as you carefully took the glass contraption in your hands. It was definitely used, and could use a good cleaning. But there were no cracks or chips to be seen, no major damage that could affect its ability to brew. Given it was nearly a century old, it was in fairly good condition.

“It’s perfect.” you breathed, thumb grazing over the glass tenderly as your heart pittered excitedly. Alastor would absolutely love this, you just knew it. You had to get it for him, it was like it was destiny. Your head whipped up to the seller.

“How much?”

Said imp looked you up and down for a moment before his eyes landed near your arm. A sly smile crept up his mouth as his pupils flicked back up to your face.

“How ‘bout that fancy lookin’ cane o’ yours?”

Immediately you placed the siphon back down and clutched the microphone close to your chest, shooting daggers at the creature in front of you. “Absolutely not.”

To your relief, the imp just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. Was woith a shot.” he chuckled, helping your tense shoulders to slowly relax. His eyes darted between you and the siphon, clearly deep in thought before crossing his arms.

“400”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. For fuck sakes, you figured it would be expensive, but this was highway robbery. And you knew very well that he knew that too; he was totally upping the price knowing how desperate you are. And as much as you needed it, you didn’t have enough on you. A thought crossed your mind, something you had observed when you explored the market. With as much confidence as you could muster, you laid your hands flat on the table and leaned in, giving him a very serious look.

“200”

The imp’s smile creaked up to his ears. “375”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and breaking the facade. It was working. Thank God, he seemed like the type who enjoyed a little haggling. If you could just get him down a little more, maybe you could actually pull this off.

“250”

“350”

“300” You finally declare, before quickly adding, “And! you wrap it up nicely for me.” you stare him down, leaning back up and crossing your arms in front of you. “That’s my final offer.”

The background noise of the market droned on as you both glared at each other across the booth. Eventually, the imp’s lips curled up devilishly before giving a sigh and shaking his head.

“Ya drive a hard bargain toots. Deal.” He cocked an eyebrow and reached a clawed hand out. You shook his hand coolly, but it was so hard to contain the excitement bouncing around in your chest. There was something exhilarating about negotiating prices; you could see why some demons got such a high off of coming to markets like these. Of course, this purchase was still going to drain you of all your cash, but it was well worth it. 

While he got to work bubble wrapping the siphon, you basically dumped your purse out and gave him every cent you had. He made sure to cushion the glass carefully and even found an empty box to place it in for double security. You honestly didn’t know how this interaction would've gone; you were initially worried he would’ve robbed you blind or threatened you. But as he handed you the bag with the goods and gave a final nod, you were beyond relieved to find that he actually seemed to be a decent guy. Maybe this market wasn’t completely full of thieves and swindlers like you had thought. 

You were practically skipping down the alley, one hand tight around Alastor’s microphone and the other holding your precious gift (but careful not to swing it around too much). You couldn’t wait to give this to him. You could feel your whole body tingling with anticipation. You really hoped that it did make a good cup of coffee; it would be a shame if it didn’t. Even so, it was such a funky looking thing, at the very least it could make for a cool decoration and hopefully bring back fond memories… You wondered how much of a difference there was between drinking coffee from a coffee machine or a siphon. You’d have to brew a pot with him tomorrow morning and-!

Your daydreaming was instantly snatched away as you were quickly dragged into the darkness of the ally beside you.

You went to scream but a large paw had clamped around your mouth before you could utter a sound. The bag slipped from your grasp and fell to the ground with a clatter, but thankfully you kept your grip on the staff tight. You immediately went to swing your arms, but both your wrists were grabbed, looking like mere toothpicks in the claws of the Hell Hounds that pulled you in. You kicked your feet up in protest as your yells were muffled, but you were no match for the sheer strength these creatures had as they dragged you further into the darkness and away from the crowds. They hauled you backwards until you felt your heels no longer dragged, indicating you had stopped, but you were barely aware of your surroundings. You continue to thrash your shoulders around and kick your feet up, desperately trying to escape like a caged wild animal. 

“Now now, there’s no reason to cause such a ruckus.”

Your eyes flash open and whip to the deep voice ahead of you. Your eyes fall onto a large silhouette leaning against the wall to your right, the brightness of the market ahead of you shading your captor’s full appearance. But as he pushed off and stepped closer, your eyes adjusted and were finally able to take in the finer details. Dripped in a rugged leather jacket and ripped jeans, the wolf looking Hell Hound sauntered towards you. His grin was fierce, and neon-yellow eyes practically glowed in the darkness. You could feel your mouth go dry and your legs turn to jelly. 

Your initial frenzied shock subsiding, you took a moment to look up at your two captors holding you back, One seemed to be a tall, muscular Mastiff with a slobbery snarl, his paws holding your right wrist and shoulder. The other was a Doberman type with cropped ears and sharp eyes, gripping tightly to your mouth and other wrist. You mumble out a pathetic plea and shimmy your shoulders again, trying to get their attention and hope that they take pity, but they pay you no mind, focusing instead on their alpha. 

“Don’t even bother chickie,” the silver dog snarked, making you turn your attention back to him, “We Hounds are very loyal to our pack; they’ll only listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed into angry slits, shooting daggers at the alpha. He merely snickered in reply. 

“You’re probably wondering who we are,” he mused, putting his hands behind his back and calmly pacing in front of you.  “Wondering what we want, why you’re here, ‘yadda yadda ya…” the dog babbled, making a yapping motion with his claws. He turned to you and gave you a cocky grin. “You should know that we don’t usually do this kind of thing… we’re actually nice guys once you get to know us!”

The two dogs behind you chuckle darkly, not at all making you feel reassured. 

“We’re nothing but humble thieves,” the wolf continued, sauntering back over to you, “Steal enough to make a humble living. Only take what we need. Provide for the pack. Today was supposed to be like any other…” 

The alpha’s yellow eyes suddenly grew dull, his smug smile slowly falling to a sneer as he stopped in front of you. The look on his face made a nervous shudder crawl down your spine. 

“... Until that ugly ass, bob-cut bastard stepped in.”

Bob-cut…? What in the Hell is he-

“Tyrion was so sneaky about it too, I was sure the wallet was as good as ours.” the wolf continued, his voice a mix of sorrow and venom. “But then that red-clad fucker saw him and…” you noticed his paws clench into tight fists, his eyes narrowing angrily. 

Red-clad… Oh god… could he mean?

“I saw it with my own eyes. That mad-man butchered him like a pig. Didn’t even give him a chance to apologize or make amends.” His nose was scrunched up in rage before it softened, his eyes holding the tiniest bit of horror, “But I think what was the most haunting was the way that creep smiled the entire time. Almost as if he was enjoying it.”

… God fucking damnit Alastor. 

“You seemed like such an easy target too.” the alpha’s neon eyes flicked up to you. “We didn’t realize what kind of monster you had on a leash.”

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you recalled that wild look in Alastor's eyes earlier, the way his smile seemed sharper... Damnit, you felt so stupid now. How did you not notice? Dear God, how many others had died today by Alastor’s hands? It was clear that this ‘Tyrian’ was trying to steal from you, but did that really warrant death? You felt a twinge of guilt settling in your stomach. 

“So when my boy’s noticed you gallivanting on your own, I couldn’t believe our luck.” the wolf chuckled, leaning in closer until you were face to face, “You seriously made our job so much easier.”

Your cast-down gaze immediately scrunched into one of distrust, feeling your body become on-edge as you focused back on your captor. The wolf smirked at your helplessness, eyeing you up and down before his gaze fell to your left hand. His eyebrows shot up in interest.

“And look at this!” He taunted, leaning back up and reaching for Alastor’s staff, “You even brought us an apology gift! What a nice little girl~”

Your eyes widened in horror, trying to jerk your hand away from the wolf’s grasp. But the Doberman held your wrist tight, making it near impossible for you to do anything as the alpha grabbed hold of the microphone and ripped it from your grasp. You let out a whimper of despair as it left your hand, to which the silver dog’s ears perked, and turned to give you a hungry look.

“Hmmm, what a pretty sound. Almost makes me want to hear it again~”

You could feel your blood boiling at his words, and in a fit of rage, you kick your feet up aggressively. To your dismay, the leader jumped out of the way in time, a joyous laugh escaping his muzzle as he hopped to the side. The two dogs holding you immediately tightened their grip on you, pulling you back and holding you more securely. You huffed through your nose like an angry bull, shooting the wolf a venomous glare as he howled and dusted off his jacket. 

“Wooh! And feisty too. Gotta admit, that just turns me on more~” he grinned, showcasing his sharp fangs and blackened gums. His pupils flicked between his friends, “Do me a favor boys, secure those legs of hers so she doesn’t do that again.” 

Almost immediately, the two henchmen each step on your feet with their large paws, pinning your feet underneath theirs. You try to lift your legs up and away to test your mobility, but sure enough, your feet were locked in place. Panic started to settle now realizing just how much trouble you were in, and instinctively, you jut your shoulders out aggressively to try and once again escape. The wolf snickered at your struggles, slowly moving closer to you. 

“Now originally, we were just going to kill you and leave it at that.” the alpha hummed, eyes slowly grazing your body, “But hey, why stop there? Why waste a perfectly good meal without getting the chance to have a bite~”

Faster than lightning, his free paw came up and slashed at your chest, making you cry out in pure agony underneath the Doberman's paw. White specs blotted your sight as your mind froze in shock. You didn’t have to look to know; you could feel what he had done. Your body felt both cold and hot, from where your dress was torn and your body exposed to the air, and from where you could feel your blood begin to soak into what remained of your dress. You tried so hard to not make too many noises after the wolf's disgusting words, but the way your skin was burning, it was hard not to. Your eyes were beginning to water as you focused your attention back on the leader. Guilt be damned, you didn’t feel a thing for these bastards anymore. You wanted to make them hurt the way they hurt you. 

Outrage helped you find the strength to thrash around again, desperately trying to free your limbs so you could land a punch, a kick, anything. The Hell Hound took a step back to avoid your violent thrashing, chuckling at your display and licking his lips.

“Calm down now Sheila, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It will be over before you know it…” He began his advance again, and you could feel your skin begin to prickle with panic. You continue your thrashing, lifting your legs and pulling at your arms, hoping that something would give way before it was too late.

And by the grace of God above, you felt your left shoe loosen under the paw of the Doberman.

An opportunity.

You spring into action, giving your left knee one final thrust upwards, making your foot pop out of your shoe and free from its confinement. Without even thinking, you slam it down hard into the Doberman’s bottom foot, making sure to dig your heel in deep. The skinny dog howled in agony, his grip on your arm and mouth loosened, giving you the chance you needed to act. As he bends over to grab at his tender paw, you bring your left arm across your chest and swiftly ram your elbow right into his muzzle. The force, along with his now injured foot, is enough to send him toppling over and slamming onto the ground, clutching his now bloodied nose.

Not wasting a precious second, you take the momentum from your left elbow and swing it over to your right, turning your body and socking the Mastif right in the face. He too yelps in pain, letting go of your right arm and freeing your other foot. As he steps back, distracted by the punch you landed, you grab him by the shoulders and lunge your left knee square into his groin. The Hell Hound let out a pathetic squeak as he immediately crumpled to the ground, curling into fetal position as he cradled his tenders.

Two down. One to go.

“Oh you BITCH!”

Right as you turn to face the wolf, his arm was already raised and ready to strike, swiftly bringing it down and backhanding your cheek. You cry out in pain, the sheer strength knocking you off your feet and making you fall harshly on your backside, cracking your head on the pavement. Your bun had come undone, your hair curtaining your glassy gaze as you watched the alpha throw the microphone to the side and stomp towards you. Too dazed by the blow, you felt him come down on you and straddle your hips, bringing his paws down over your throat.

“You think you’re tough shit girlie?” he snarled, his grip on your neck tightening, “Let’s see how tough you are once you beg for mercy.” 

You gasped for air desperately, your hands clawing at his paws and legs kicking out behind him. Your heart was racing anxiously, eyes darting all around you to see if there was anything around that could help you. A shimmer of light catches your eye, and you're just able to turn your head ever so slightly to your right. Your silver hair pin glistened in the light beside you, like a gift from God himself. 

You turn your attention back to the wolf, not wanting to reveal your plan to him. You could feel your vision begin to spot from lack of oxygen, but you stretch out your right arm, desperately trying to reach the pin without making it obvious. You felt the cool metal suddenly come in contact with your fingertips, rolling it closer to you into it finally was tight in your fist. With as much strength as you could muster, you swing your arm up and over, stabbing your assaulter right where his shoulders met his neck.

The wolf immediately howled in pain, rolling to his side and off you to grasp at the makeshift weapon lodged in his neck. You gasped for breath, feeling your blurry vision slowly speckle back as you choked in air. Exhaustion was taking over at this point; your head felt heavy from all the blows, and you could feel your body becoming numb from the blood-loss. Your eyes lazily scanned the area until they locked on Alastor’s mike, and you knew this would be your last chance if you wanted to survive this. 

You force your weak body to move, crawling on the ground as quick as you could towards the staff, scratching your arms and stomach as you went. You whimpered in agony, wishing to just give up and let sleep take over. But Alastor was waiting for you. Your friends back at the hotel were waiting. You couldn’t give up, not after coming this far.

Finally, you manage to stretch out and grab the mike, pulling it close to your mouth and taking a big breath.

“ALAS-!”

A fuzzy hand gripped your ankle and yanked you whole body away, making you cry out in fear as your plea was cut off. Your body scrapped painfully on the ground, dirt and tiny rocks grating against your open wounds. You whip your body around, cane still tight in hand and flinging it over to strike your opponent. But the wolf caught it skillfully in his paw, his pupils constricted and baring his fangs, the fur on his neck now sticky and tainted red. 

“Enough of this shit.”

The hound threw the staff out of your grasp and to the side, straddling you once again, but this time pinning both your arms over your head with one arm and leaning over you dangerously. You sobbed out in agony, your mind desperately telling your body to fight, but too exhausted to react. The alpha sneered down at you, panting and eyes wild with fury.

“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in killing.” he growled, his hot breath hitting your face and making you whine out in dread. “But now…” The dog began to raise his free arm high in the air, his claws extracting with a sharp sound. 

“I’m gonna enjoy watching you bleed out.” 

A sob escaped your throat, tears streaming down your face in thick streams. This was it. This was going to be how you died. You had never actually died in Hell yet, and a part of you was scared. How long until you came back to life? Would you remember any of this… Fuck, would you remember anything at all? You couldn’t imagine a life outside of the hotel, not now. Not without the friends you've made. Certainly not without Alastor. The thought was unbearable. 

His arm came down swiftly, and you cried out in terror, shutting your eyes tight and turning your head, trying to block out the nightmare in front of you. You heard a slash of skin being torn and felt your whole body tense at the sound. You waited for the searing pain, for the blood to gush out from you until you became numb. 

But oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything.

You dared to peek up at the wolf on top of you, a peculiar look on his face as he was frozen in mid swing. His eyelid twitched, mouth partially open before his top half suddenly began to … slide?

“Funny you should say that, I was thinking ₮ⱧɆ ɆӾ₳₵₮ ₴₳₥Ɇ ₮Ⱨł₦₲.” 

Before you could comprehend where the voice came from, the wolf's upper body slid clean off his waist, toppling to the side and beside you on the ground. You slowly sat up, unable to speak as blood began to pool around you, both from his severed chest and his hips and legs. A large black tentacle came up from behind you and grabbed onto one of the wolf's ankles, picking up the severed lower section and flinging it off of your body. You blink in recognition, feeling your  initial shock subside and your chest tighten with hope. You turned around towards your saviour, but had to hold in your gasp at the creature behind you.

Microphone once again tight in his grasp, this demon was as tall as the buildings surrounding you; body barely able to fit between the narrow alleyway as he bent over you. Horns tripled in size and much more resembled deer antlers, black tentacles splayed from his back and writhing around, huge hands and talons sharp, eyes black as night and scarlet pupils in the shape of  dials, and a red ‘x’ on his forehead burning brightly. 

You had never seen Alastor in this state; in his true demonic form. You almost didn’t believe it was him. But his characteristic smile was ever present, your skin feeling that familiar buzz of electricity from his sound waves. You knew just how powerful he was, but to witness him at his full potential, it truly was a sight to behold. 

The giant form was watching you this whole time, dials flickering over your tiny body below him. From your face, to your torn chest and dress, to your bloodied legs, and back up to you. You felt a chill crawl down your spine as you locked eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Any other person would have been terrified looking up at such a creature, but oddly enough, you felt the safest you had ever been. Though you could feel the outrage that was emanating from his very body, you could sense the recognition in his eyes, the kindness deep within those haunting eyes.

The clatter of a loose can snapped you both out of your gaze, Alastor whipping his giant head up and forward, once again sharp and on alert. You heard a whimper of fright and manage to notice the Mastiff tumble out from the shadows and begin to run, yelling like a child and scrambling to get as far away as possible. There was a sudden buzz in the air, the Radio Demon’s smile curling up on his face and drooling blood. A chilling laugh escaped his throat, his jaw practically unhinging like a snake. 

“Well that was not a wise decision on your part…” Alastor growled, his voice deeper and booming as the sound practically shook the ground beneath you. His large body began to move forward, crawling like an animal and the screeching of static ringing out in the air.

“Don’t you know a hunter ⱤɆⱠł₴ⱧɆ₴ ł₦ ₳ ₲ØØĐ ₵Ⱨ₳₴Ɇ??”

The Overlord pounds forward, surprisingly fast for his size as the Hell Hound screeches in horror, sprinting further into the darkness of the alleyway ahead. You sat in the pool of the alpha’s blood, still stunned at the events of this afternoon and unable to do anything other than sit and stare. You numbly look over to the severed wolf beside you, his eyes already glossy and deprived of any life.

One.

You look back up to the large lanky demon stomping forward, laughing maniacally as whimpered screams of the Mastiff could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.

Two.

You blinked for a moment, your brain slow to process, but eventually catching up to the current events and what seemed wrong about this picture.

Fuck. 

Where was the Doberman. 

You heard some shuffling from behind a dumpster and whip your head over, your previous question instantly being answered. The skinny dog limped forward, eyes locked on Alastor and unaware of you watching him. He limped forward, his right paw still sore from you stomping on it. But his arm was tucked into his jacket suspiciously, and you felt your eyes narrow dubiously. A soft click snapped from inside the cloth, and the Doberman pulled out what appeared to be a gun, pointing it right at Alastor’s back. 

But there was something about this weapon that made you feel uneasy. The silver finishes that swirled around it, the way it practically radiated light in the darkness. There was something about this weapon that felt unnatural; like it didn’t belong in this world.

It seemed almost… Holy… 

You felt your blood run cold. 

It was all a blur. Rage and fear had taken full control of your body. Whatever exhaustion you had felt earlier was forgotten, whatever aches and pains slowing you down were no longer a hindrance. Completely fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, you scramble forward, bending over and grabbing your hair pin splayed on the ground. You sprint at a speed in which you never had before, screeching out Alastor’s name in warning before leaping onto the hound from behind.

The Doberman shouted in protest, raising his arms in defense and misfiring. The sound ricocheted off the walls, causing the Radio Demon to whip his head around, mouth half full of the Mastiff to a sight truly unbeheld. 

Your legs tight around the Dobermans waist, your one hand gripped at his head while the other continuously stabbed him in the neck. The dog clawed away at your arms desperately, howling out in pain as blood began to gush from his throat. But his screams were nothing compared to yours. Like a wild animal, you shrieked in fury, holding him tight and eyes feral as you punctured his neck again and again. The Doberman’s eyes eventually rolled to the back of his head, falling to his knees and landing face first on the ground. But as you went down with him, you continued your assault, kneeling over him with both arms overhead and slamming the hair pin into his back again and again and again.

Alastor watched from afar, jaw hanging open and the Mastiff’s carcass falling out from between his razor teeth. Never had he imagined he would see a spectacle such as this, certainly not from the likes of you. Not the girl who sang jazz in the kitchen, laughed at his horrendous puns, and slept so peacefully in his presence. He was convinced you were an angel in disguise, too pure for this damned world. 

And yet.

Here you were, stabbing and slashing and drenched in another's blood.

And he got to witness it.

Your furious screams started sputtering into sobs, and Alastor immediately snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately shifted into the shadows, slithering to you at lightning speed and emerging beside you, back to his regular appearance and hesitating a moment before gently placing both his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/n,” he spoke tenderly, “Y/n, darling. It’s ok. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

The sound of his voice made you whip your head up to him, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes were wide with horror making Alastor flinch, unsure how you were going to react. Immediately, you turn your upper body to him, grabbing onto his cheeks with bloodied hands and inspecting his face all over.

“Are you ok??” you sob, eyes panicked and looking all over his body, “you didn’t get hit, did you?? God please tell me you’re ok!”

Alastor blinked back his confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. “Of course I’m alright my dear, whatever do you-!”

A glimmer of light caught his eye, and his gaze was momentarily pulled away from your frantic face. Upon laying eyes over the peculiar weapon, he felt his eyes widen in recognition. There was no mistaking the silver swirls decorating the gun. He had heard rumours of such weapons, not yet having the pleasure of seeing anything of the like in real life. 

He had heard the gunshot earlier, and was worried you were on the other end of the rifle which had triggered him to turn. But he hadn’t considered that the bullet was intended for him. Of course, a regular bullet wound was of no concern to him, he had survived much worse. 

But a bullet from an angelic weapon? 

As he formed the picture in his head, you calling out his name desperately and your sudden panic for his well being, it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together. 

You didn’t kill out of self defense.

You had killed to protect him.

You had killed for him. 

His mind was tumbling with this new wave of information and emotions, something that he didn’t often struggle with. But he felt your hands slip away from his face, causing him to focus back on you. Your head was bent down, hair draping over and covering your face, and soon your shoulders began to tremble. The distinct sound of you crying caused a jolt to shoot up Alastor’s spine, and immediately he lowered a hand under your chin to tilt your head up towards him. Sure enough, big salty tears were streaming down your face. But what caught him the most off guard was the weepy smile spread across your face. 

“Thank God.” you wept, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “I-I was so worried… I couldn’t live with myself if…” your lip trembled as you burst into tears. Whether they were tears of relief or fear, he wasn’t sure, but one thing was for certain.

Alastor had never seen someone so shaken at the thought of him dying.

And that made him feel… something. 

But he didn’t have time to delve into that. Not right now. He had to address this situation before he could dissect his thoughts. He knelt beside you, truly taking in your state of dress and being. Your dress was torn to shreds and blood-soaked, your chest bearing deep claw marks, the side of your head had dried blood spilling from your hairline, cheek swollen, scrapped stomach and legs, and bruises scattered all over your body. 

Rage swelled up in his body. Furious at the hounds who did this to you. Bitter at you for thinking that going off on your own was a good idea. And most of all, outraged at himself for allowing this to have happened in the first place. And when that last thought trickled into his brain, he felt something else slither in his mind to replace that anger. An ancient feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time; ever since he was alive. 

Guilt.

What a terrible emotion. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He never felt regret or sorrow for the actions he took since descending to Hell. Why would he when dealing with demons and creatures alike that he saw as mere obstacles in his way? But as he looked down at your crumpled form, his usual sunny sparrow clipped of her wings and trembling before him. Knowing that he had broken his promise of protecting you… 

His eyebrows furrowed, ears falling flat on his head as his jaw clenched tightly. 

Of course, you weren’t at all aware of the torment currently happening in Alastor’s mind. You were just so damn relieved he was ok, and that you were alive to tell the tale. Your choked sobs were slowly lessening, trying to focus on your breathing and just so freaking grateful to still have oxygen in your lungs. As you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you could feel your eyes growing tired, body slowly relaxing finally knowing the horror was over. The aches and pains were coming back to life, your chest especially burning painfully and your dress sticky with blood. Whatever adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was fastly subsiding, blood loss making your head heavy and limbs numb. 

You didn’t even realize you were falling over until you felt long arms catch you, holding you up so you didn’t hit the ground. You could hear the familiar buzz of Alastor’s radio-like voice speaking to you, but your head was swimming, and your ears weren’t able to pick up what he was saying. You tried to look up at him, but your vision was so blurred, he was just a red fuzz in your eyes. You were so tired; you just wanted to sleep. And Alastor’s body was so warm and familiar, it was like a comforting blanket. You leaned in closer to his body, desperate for that feeling after such a harrowing event.  

You could feel yourself fading fast, and a single thought emerged that made you panic a moment. The bag. The present. You can’t leave that damned thing behind. You reached out a hand and lazily padded at Alastor’s chest, mumbling out a string of words that you prayed made sense. The red blob tilted to the side, and you knew he was confused, but you couldn’t fully explain yourself. He was smart, you knew he would figure it out. And you knew he would take care of you; you were in safe hands now. 

You could finally allow yourself to sleep. 

Your vision was quickly dimming, darkness beginning to surround you until eventually your eyelids fell shut and you blacked out completely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT (Coming soon)

My beautiful does and bucks: @saccharine-nectarine @doowopshewop @mysterypotatoink @wendds @crispybelieverworld @raicomme ((WE GOT MORE BEAUTIFUL SINNERS YAY ꨄ ))

[fanficsthatmakemybraingobrr]

A Night In Cairo

Chapter 2

Indiana Jones x Gender-Neutral Reader

Content warning: Mild panic attack

You’re a Intern at Marshall College in Bedford Connecticut and you work with Dr.Jones, but he sucks at his job and is never there and is always behind with work making you get the short end of the stick. Then he drags you on a trip to Cairo with him.

I don't quite like how this chapter turned out,  I mean I posted it on a03 and I've been wanting to rewrite it but I want to see how it does on here and maybe I will maybe wont! And please give me feedback and tell me what I could do better next time! I hope y'all enjoy!

link to Chapter 1

Link to AO3

When Jones said the morning you didn’t think he meant 5am. Now you're in his car as he’s driving you to god knows where. You two are sitting in awkward silence. It feels like the silence is lasting for eternity.

So many different thoughts rush through your head while you look out the window at the passing scenery trying to distract yourself. Dr.Jones still hasn’t told you why the hell you are going to Cairo. You’ve never even been out of the US! You had no idea how to pack or prepare for a trip like this! And Egypt for your first trip? This is all way too overwhelming. All of your anxieties and nerves Eat away at you as you sit in the passenger side seat. You need to start asking questions.

“So uh… Dr.Jones-“ He chuckles and lightly waves his hand in the air.

“Please cut it with the formal crap, just call me Indy.” You look at the older man with slight surprise. He's never acted this friendly towards you, he's always been really professional. Maybe he's acting so differently because you two are out of the office? So many thoughts are racing in your mind.

“Um alright Indy-” You grimace slightly saying his first name, it feels weird. “Could you tell me why we are going to Cairo and especially at such a short notice? I mean I've never been out of the US before let alone being on a plane!” You spiral into a rambling mess asking a million different questions at once. Indy sighs. 

“Hey calm down ___ it’s going to be fine.” You shoot him a confused look. What does he mean? It's going to be fine?. He basically kidnapped you and is now taking you to a foreign country! 

“I received an invitation from The Museum Of Cairo to one of their fancy Banquets after I returned an artifact that I found last time I was there. We fly in tonight. The banquet is tomorrow night and then we leave straight away the next morning. ” Indiana says nonchalantly. There's a long pause between you and him.

“And you kidnapped me because…?” Indiana jeered at your comment.

“Hey! I didn't kidnap you! This was all just a little last minute…and I brought you with me because they gave me a plus one and….well…” He paused and had an embarrassed look on his face.

“You don't have any friends?” Indiana's eyes widened and he scoffed at your smartass remark.

“No! because you're my intern, I just thought it would be a good experience for you. and it's nothing too intense, it's basically a vacation if anything you should be thanking me!” This conversation didn't make you feel any better about this damn trip, at this point you don't think anything can. The rest of the car ride fell into the awkward silence once again.

Soon enough the car pulled up to a terminal. As you exit the car, you realize this is your first time on a plane. As you both entered the cabin a short stewardess in a blue uniform with red lipstick greeted you telling you to enjoy your flight. The cabin was pretty spacious with comfortable looking seats and plenty of amenities. Both you and Indy’s seats were vertical from each other with a small table in between. You take your seat closest to the window. Looking around you there weren’t many other people on the plane. 

“Wow, this looks expensive..” your eyes landing back on Indy as you take your seats, the older man chuckled, taking his hat off, placing it down on the table and grabbing a book out of his carry on.

“This is all paid for so enjoy it. We’re gonna be on this plane for about 10 hours.” 10 hours? You could feel your anxiety start to build as the information settled in. What are you going to do? You started thinking of different ways to cope with your anxiety but it just feels worse. The stewardess walks up to the middle of the isles addressing the passengers. 

“Hello, everyone!” She announced with a high pitched peppy and somewhat languid voice.

 “Welcome to your flight to Cairo! This is going to be a long journey, so please make yourself comfortable! If you need anything or have a question or concern during this flight, please don’t be afraid to ask me or one of my fellow stewardesses. We will be taking off very shortly, so sit back, relax and thank you for flying with us, we hope you have a pleasant flight!” You would be lying if you said her voice wasn’t annoying.

The plane slowly started to move forward, as the aircraft moved the tighter your chest felt and the more knotted your stomach got. Gaining speed the cabin rumbled, gripping the armrest, your body felt tense and numb with your anxiety growing more. The plane lifted up from the ground, it felt like you were sinking into your seat while your stomach dropped. You desperately try calming yourself down but failing miserably the feelings of panic were too overwhelming. You look around for something- anything to help. 

Indy couldn’t focus on his book with your heavy breathing in his ear, it was almost getting on his nerves, but he couldn’t be upset about it. It would be hypocritical of him. There have been times where he’s gotten nervous on planes. This trip was also pretty last minute, and it’s your first time flying..dammit now he’s starting to feel bad. You’ve done so much for him and have worked really hard your whole internship, the least he can do is try to comfort you. Indiana placed his book in his lap with a sigh and turned his head towards you. You are staring at the ground with your hands tightly clutching to the armrests of your chair. 

“Hey.” He says in a hush but commanding tone, Indiana isn’t used to comforting people so he was trying his best not to sound too awkward or unnatural. Your eyes were glued to the ground; it felt like you couldn’t speak. There was a pause and you managed to let out a small ‘hm?’ trying not to sound too anxious. 

“Hey, can you look at me?” He grumbled a bit, you snapped your eyes shut and tried to calm down just feeling more overwhelmed. Indy exhaled- he didn’t mean to say it like that he’s just not good at things like this. You deserved better. Indiana gently placed his hand on top of yours. You open your eyes a bit taken aback. This time he spoke more softly.

“Hey ___ it’s going to be okay.” Your hands slowly let go of the chair. That was the first time he’s actually called you by your name. You turn your head and look at him. His face is different. You’ve never seen this kind of expression on him before. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his eyes look at you with worry and concern. A part of you wanted to look away or at least somewhere else but the way his glasses framed his eyes made it almost impossible. Indiana slightly squeezed your hand snapping you out of your daze.

“I promise. It’s okay___.” He’s never acted like this before, and it’s kind of nice. There was a pause of silence and you just looked at him, it wasn’t uncomfortable- it was the opposite, it was oddly comfortable? 

“Do you feel better?” He tilted his head to the side waiting for your answer. 

“Uh yeah, I do feel a lot better thanks.” You pulled your hand away, his touch was starting to feel like a little too much. Your face felt warm but you definitely felt better than before. Indy had a small smile on his face.

“That’s good, I was worried.” He then picked his book back up. 

“Try to sleep, it’ll help time pass by.” Indiana suggested as he started to read his book again. He was right, maybe you should try to sleep. After not being able to sleep last night and having a panic attack, you’re pretty exhausted. You shut your window and lay your chair back, there’s nobody sitting behind you, so you have quite a bit of space to lay back. You then prop your feet on top of the table and then your head against your chair. You didn’t realize how heavy your eyelids were until your head hit the cushioned headrest of your chair and soon enough you were out.

[ashes-writing]

burnin for you pt three | stranger things ; g.emerson

A/N ; I told you guys I love this idiot and I have officially kinda adopted his grumpy ass as one of my own damn it, but anyway... and I wanted to write this for him and all that jazz. Welp, here we kinda have me getting a late night idea about 'stupidest' nicknames that reader and Gareth could call each other -and of course, how to give reader at least one friend that's not hellfire / corroded coffin and a girl so she can do her girly shit and not seem so flat or tragic for me while also exploring reader's home issues and such and inserting ANGST, so here we freakin go.

I shit you not, when the idea for their nicknames came I died laughing. If you guys don't like them, oops? I guess just sub in your own chosen nickname? Look, I'm still working on making the switch from writing OC characters to doing x reader so uh.. I'm trying, lol. [ BTW, i'm gonna attempt to revisit or update the ones for Tommy and Billy, I just.. haven't thought of a way to do it yet. ]

Huuuge huge thanks for all the feedback, oh my god, y'all have been making my days so bright with the comments and the tags and the reblogs and the likes bc I dead ass did not think anybody would read anything I put out bc I am gremlin.. You have no idea how much it truly means to me and I thank you so so so so so much, mwah!

- Ashes

Pairing ; Gareth Emerson x sweet!girly!rich reader [ we're officially calling them pastels and plaid. ]

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ;  pt I | pt II pt III part IIII can be found here those can and should be read first, then this one.. first of all. Gareth has been aged up to 18 before anybody says a word. I'm putting that out there now. So there's no question about it. This is set in 86 BUT BUT.. the upside down, vecna and all the other stuff that goes along with is not a part of this, it's more of a slice of life thing. So if you're into that... NO DEATHS EITHER BTW.

Tag List ; @allelitesmut @aries-arcade @hcloangcls @heyaitsklaudia @krys-orion @musichealsscars and @scoobiessnacks are the only ones currently on my taglist. If you’d like to be on my taglist for anything I write, including Stranger Things [ here ] add yourself there.

Warnings ; Chrissy -and readers, not so great home lives and her relationship with jason are discussed here so there are some not so nice things (ie, her ED is hinted at here but not really discussed, Jason is an asshole, her mother is verbally abusive and readers parents are just plain neglectful killjoy types who alternate between never being around and purposely taking away things that make reader happy if she's not 'good enough' at them) so before I go any further, that's mentioned heavily in the beginning. It's not that graphic but it is there. Mentions of the devils lettuce + the boys doing a smoking circle after jamming in Jeff's garage, lots of internal pining and the angst that goes with it, use of nicknames/petnames (bunny and meatball, my mind at 2 am, babes i s2g) and that's it.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || - send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

You couldn’t sleep. The house was too quiet and your mind was way too noisy. There’s a park just down the street that you’ve been going out to the swingsets to sit on nights like this. It’s normally empty because this is the gated neighborhood and most of the people in it are usually asleep, so as you make your way down dimly lit streets towards the park, you’re surprised to learn that’s not the case tonight.

Chrissy Cunningham is sitting on the jungle gym, Leaned back with all her weight on her palms, her head tilted back as she gazes at the sky. Remembering she’s one of them, you’re about to turn and make your way back up the street but she spots you and jogs over.

“Wait. Don’t go… Please?”

You eye her warily, a hand on your hip. You start to turn and just walk away anyway because looking at her only brings back the way Brook, the queen bee at your old school confronted you in front of everyone at your old school to tear you down and humiliate you and ruin everything, but you happen to see the red in Chrissy’s eyes.

You try to tell yourself she’s probably high, everybody in your old clique at the boarding school you were in before life -and shitty, neglectful parents, landed you in Hawkins in the big lonely house on the end of the street. But something about that thought doesn’t fit. Then you remember hearing her mother shouting earlier, halfway up the block.

What’s more is you heard her over your father’s true pride and joy, a top dollar home theater system. That wasn’t on low volume by any means because you were trying to drive out the tomb-like silence.

You rub the bridge of your nose and it’s what she says next that sways you into sticking around. “Please don’t go. I…I won’t annoy you and this isn’t a trick, okay? I just... I want someone to talk to right now. Please?”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.” you finally respond. The two of you make your way back over to the jungle gym she’d previously been sitting on and for about ten minutes, you’re both just sitting in complete silence.

“The freaks..” Chrissy starts and you cut her off. “They’re not freaks.” you assert calmly, giving her a warning look. “They’re my friends. I think they are, I dunno...” you go quiet and your words trail off as you look down at the manicure you’d given yourself that afternoon while watching General Hospital and babysitting the two youngest Sinclair girls. You’d done the two girls nails to match, of course.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Chrissy swallows hard, swinging bare feet around, her feet making a soft thud when the heels of them met the wood plank behind them. “That’s what everyone around here calls them. It’s a bad habit and I hate it.”

“Then don’t do it. Y’know, you do have the power to change things.” you say it with a quiet laugh and you immediately apologize. “Don’t take my advice. Trust me.” you add a few seconds later. “Because I tried to change things at the boarding school I was at before… Only ended with me getting fucked over.”

Chrissy cringes and looks at you in concern, but closer up, you’re thinking to yourself that if anyone needs a concerned look right now, it’s her. You start to ask her if she’s eaten because everything about the way her face just looks so damn tired makes you think about Elaine from your old school. Before you can stop yourself and remind yourself that Chrissy is one of them and they’re not to be trusted under any circumstance, you’ve asked the question. “Are you okay?”

“The whole neighborhood heard it.” Chrissy mumbles softly. “I thought just this once she’d be proud of me,y’know?” she’s wiping at her eyes and you tense a little because all you wanted to do when you left your house was come down and sit in silence to look up at the stars.

Try to quiet your own noisy mind and all the doubts and fears in it for just a little while. Try to stop yourself from calling Gareth at fuck all o’clock because he’s the only one you sort of trust and you just needed to hear his voice because you’re determined not to give anybody - a friend, your parents, a boy, that much of a hold on you again.

Instead of admitting that you heard it because that feels like the wrong thing to do somehow, you shrug. “I was watching some stupid show.” you mumble quietly. It’s not a complete lie, you were watching tv when it happened. You just omit the fact that you heard her mother lashing out at both her and her father over the volume level of said television show.

She looks a little relieved that maybe one person didn’t hear her mother lashing out. You manage a weak smile and repeat your earlier question because to an extent, she hasn’t fully answered it. She looks down at her bare feet and shakes her head. “I hate being me.”

And you feel that in your bones. But you don’t say anything. She laughs and it’s a quiet and almost bitter sound. “I mean, perfect boyfriend, perfect grades, perfect body… You’d think I’d be happy…Right?” she shakes her head and mutters a quiet, “Forget it.”

“No,no.” you reach out for her wrist when she goes to leave. “Finish what you were going to say. It’s not like I’m gonna sleep tonight anyway.” with a mild shrug.

“Your parents too?” she asks and the question is almost hopefully phrased as she searches your eyes. You bite your lip and shrug. “Lack thereof, actually. They won’t be back from their little business trip until December, if they even come back. According to my father, they’re in talks to merge with some other entertainment business and go in together to open some nightclub or something. They could be gone a year or something, I really don't know..” you laugh quietly.

“Wasn’t your father talking to the mayor about re-visiting the whole idea to buy out the mall?”

“Yeah, he was. Then he got this offer and decided to go with it. Mayor Kline didn’t want to negotiate, something about the current owners of the mall had a better idea.” you shrug, rolling your eyes.

“So you’re there alone?”

“There’s a cleaning lady that comes in twice a week. It’s not like it’s a big deal.” you shrug it off. It is a big deal but you’re so used to the endless parade of service people in and out and the absence of your actual parents that now you just get numb because there’s no hope left.

“We weren’t talking about me, Chrissy.” you mumble after the silence gets just a little too thick. She sighs. “I hate him. I hate him and I hate my mother. But I still love her and I want her to be proud of me just once so I do everything I can…”

You gaze at her and nod. “Listen, this is your life. Fuck them.”

She manages a nervous smile. Twists a strand of strawberry blonde around her finger. “I wish it were that easy.”

“This is gonna sound selfish but trust me.. Or don’t, whatever.” you’re swinging your feet as you look up at the moon and stars overhead. After a second or two to pause and think about how best to word it, you decide to just say it. “Has that idiot Jason Carver ever done anything good or helpful for you?” you gaze at her.

“Well, no but–”

You shake your head. “No buts. Him ‘making you popular’ or whatever bullshit you were about to say is not important, it doesn’t count.” you laugh quietly. The more you sit and talk to her on the jungle gym in the middle of the night, the more you’re confronted with just how much alike you both are.

You don’t like that, it doesn’t sit well.

This in turn, leads you to sort of think that maybe it’s time you follow the advice you’re giving her. Or try harder to.

“Okay, what about your mother? When’s the last time she actually gave a shit?”

Chrissy’s mouth opens and closes and she’s in deep thought. You shrug mildly. “Do what makes you happy. To hell with your mother definitely, Hawkins High student body and especially that piece of shit Jason Carver.”

“Why are you telling me this? I..” she trails off, laughing softly. “I thought you hated us.”

No sense in deluding the poor girl, you respond quietly, “Most of you, yeah. I wouldn’t spare a drop of pee if most of you were on fire..” you gaze at her thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re different. Maybe it’s not too late for you.” and as you say this, you focus all your energy into it because if it’s not too late for her this means it’s not too late for you.

She manages a weak smile. “Maybe.”

“What does make you happy, hm?”

Chrissy giggles quietly. “There’s this boy.” she starts and instantly, you get the feeling you might possibly not want to hear the rest because if it all centers around a boy -because right now, god that sounds just way too close to home and you’re definitely not in the state of mind to deal with that just yet, it’s probably gonna be an awful disaster for her.

“No, I meant like.. Hobbies?” you clarify what you meant.

“Cheerleading. That really does make me happy. It’s the only thing that keeps me hanging on.”

Like your ballet. That your parents took you out of to put you in boarding school so they could jet around god knows where and do anything but be parents. Your mother claims to this day that she was doing it for your own good because you weren’t good enough and she was saving you from pain later, but you honestly didn’t care if you were any good or not, you just loved to dance. You loved the structure and the discipline because it was something nobody gave a shit about you enough to give to you at home.

Besides the one nanny you had when you were 10, the only one who acted like a goddamn parent and didn’t treat you like you were just some kind of little prop when needed. But they took her too because your father said attachments were something that would make you weak.

You nod and you smile a little. Before you stop yourself with the reminder that again, she is one of them and therefore, not to be trusted even a little, you mumble quietly, “Ballet.” and you give a shrug. “I was in classes but my mother decided I wasn’t doing well enough at it to warrant going anymore.”

Chrissy swallows hard and she doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You mumble an apology because there you go again, making it awkward. “Sorry, I… That should’ve stayed in my head.”

“No, no.. It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

And she doesn’t.

Something she’s thinking about makes her smile just a little and you bite your lip, looking at her. “Okay, out with it. What’s his name?” you decide that maybe it's safer to stick to boys or whatever else you can both think of because this conversation is getting just a shade too heavy right now for you but you want to talk to her, you need to talk to someone.

“Eddie Munson.” Chrissy answers in an almost dreamy and shy tone as she laughs softly. "It feels so good to just say it."

You gape for a second and then you laugh quietly. “Wow. I..” you shake your head, dragging your hand through damp hair, “I was not expecting that.”

“You can’t say anything, alright? Please?” she begs.

You’d never say a word, one, because you dunno if she’s trustworthy or not just yet and two, you know how that feels. To trust somebody with something and then they take it and use it against you somehow, make a total mess of everything.

You rub your forehead.

This entire conversation has been one eye-opener after another.

Some necessary and some, like Chrissy’s confession about having a crush on Eddie Munson, totally shocking. But you feel a little lighter somehow. You come away with the desire to stop letting life run over you repeatedly. To stand up for yourself more. With everyone. To stop giving a shit about anyone who doesn’t give a shit about you.

“I won’t.” you manage a smile and hold up your pinkie despite it being the height of childish. She links her pinkie through and you both laugh quietly.

“Y’know..” you’re not even sure why you’re suggesting it, maybe it’s to save her from Jason Carver turning into a worse man later in life and her being trapped, maybe it’s just for shits and giggles because you cannot, for the life of you picture Eddie, an actual golden retriever idiot, - the thought comes with all the friendly affection you can muster, of course,  with her.

“Yeah?”

“Eddie’s a way better person than Jason. Jason’s only going to get worse.”

Chrissy nods. The look in her eyes tells you that this isn’t something she hasn’t thought about a thousand times already. You shrug and lean back against the metal pull bar beside the top of the slide behind you so that you’re actually facing her completely. You laugh a little. “I need to take some of my own advice.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.. that whole fuck them speech? It was aimed at me too.” you admit, going  quiet to stare down at the cracks in the wood beneath you. Chrissy laughs softly. “So do it.”

“You first.” you deadpan, sticking out your tongue.

“Okay, what if we both do it?”

“Do you think they’d be able to handle both of us just lighting a match and watching everything and everyone who didn't care enough and we no longer care about burn though?” you ask quietly, kicking your feet again as you admit in a quiet whisper, “Because I’ve got so much anger sometimes I can’t sleep.”

“I know what you mean. Mine isn’t… It’s more pain than anger.”

“Pain turns into anger, you know that, right? But the whole numb thing, that comes first most of the time. Or that’s how it worked for me.”

“Yeah.”

Both of you go quiet again and then she looks at you. “What’s it like?”

“Hm?” you glance up at her. 

“Dating Gareth Emerson?”

You laugh softly.

“We’re..” you trail off and lean your head back against the wooden post. “He’s just my friend.”

“But you wish there was more going on… Right?”

You shrug. “A little yes, a little bit I’m too scared to even think about it. I’m a fucking mess, okay? Just like.. Trust me.” 

“You don’t seem that bad.”

“Thank you.” you mumble.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Chrissy is poking the bear because she doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell him. She always sees you two around school. And everybody thinks you’re dating him, especially after the brawl that happened a week or two back between him and Mason Allen. A brawl that Mason Allen hasn’t quite gotten over just yet. The thought reminds her that she was going to warn you to warn Gareth and his friends to watch their backs, so she butts in to say so.

“Hey, you might want to warn Gareth.. And his friends. Mason’s furious because Gareth kicked his butt.”

“Oh he is, huh?” you muse, glancing at her. “Is he planning something?”

“Just says that when he catches him alone, he’s going to get him back.”

You scoff. “Yeah, like hell that’s going to happen. I won’t let it.” you assert.

But really, can you stop it? You weren’t brave enough to stand up for yourself thus creating the mess in the first place. Even as the thought hits you, you know that you’re at least going to try. Whatever it takes. Because you’re not going to let Gareth get dragged into something you should’ve been brave enough to handle on your own.

“I’ll warn him later.” you mumble to yourself. Chrissy circles back to her original question, asking again why you don’t just tell Gareth how you feel. You laugh softly. “You first, sweets. I happen to know Munson would be fuckin thrilled. He’s always watching you.” you give her a slightly warmer grin as you say it.

Chrissy nods and takes a deep breath or two. “It’s not that easy.”

“My point exactly.”

“I thought you were dating Gareth, I mean.. He calls you bunny. And you’re always with him. You’re both always kind of touching each other?” Chrissy points out quietly. You laugh again. “I have not the first clue where Gareth came up with that nickname. I just told him he could call me literally anything but my name because I hate it so much and then he started calling me bunny.” you shrug, laughing again. “Knowing him, it probably has to do with me eating vegetables and fruit. Something off the wall like that.”

“What do you call him?” Chrissy giggles as she asks the question, smiling at you all soft and serene.

“Never to his face and this doesn’t leave us, got it?” you look at her and take a deep breath before bursting into laughter. “Pretty boy. I uh.. Had a real interesting dream a few nights ago when I got a little crazy and raided my mom’s wine and I’m pretty sure I called him daddy a thousand times during that.. But seriously,” you’re staring at your pale pink toenails as you swing your feet back and forth, “I call him meatball most of the time. Because he’s stronger than he looks, meatballs are kind of a comfort food for me and like… I dunno where I was going with that. I called him tiger once and his face went so fucking red, it was the cutest thing…” you double over, laughing at your sap and stupidity. 

You cringe a little. “That was way too much information.”

“No, it’s okay. This is nice. Can we?” she fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater while looking down, “Can we do this again sometime? Can I talk to you and stuff at school?”

You laugh and shrug. You don’t expect her to follow through on the talking at school thing, not even slightly, but you smile and nod. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” you mumble, wondering to yourself the whole time if you’re going to regret it in the long run.

Something tells you maybe this time you won’t.

You haven’t regretted a single second since you made the decision not to get sucked right back in with the type of people you used to be friends with and be like, to an extent. 

Chrissy grins brightly at you. You manage a slightly smaller bright grin. “Hey, if you ever need somewhere to go, I’m at the end of the street. The big blue house.” you point out your house to her and she nods. “I’ll probably take you up on that a lot.”

– ( jeff’s garage )

The heavy haze hung in the air and Jeff fanned in front of his face a little as he passes the joint to Grant. Grant took a hit and passes it to Eddie.

Eddie nudges Gareth and Gareth blinks.

“Okay, meatball. Focus, idiot.” Jeff laughs out.

Gareth gives him a dirty look and flips him off. “Fuck off, Jeff.”

“What? I can’t call you that but she can? I thought she wasn’t your girl… Meatball.” Jeff scoots himself away from the circle and lays on the cement slab floor laughing his ass off.

“Of all the nicknames. She picks that one.”Gareth shakes his head, laughing even though sometimes, it is a little annoying. But to be fair, you only started calling him meatball when he started calling you bunny.

And now, it’s become a habit.

“Pretty sure she’ll say the same thing, you call her bunny.” Eddie points it out and this prompts the rest of the little circle to glance at Gareth.

Gareth’s face is on fire and he gives Eddie a death glare. “Dickhole.”

“What? I heard you earlier.” Eddie shrugs.

“Of everything you could call her, man.. Bunny? Seriously?” Jeff questions.

“Why bunny?” Grant asks quietly as he fixes his gaze on Gareth, waiting on an answer.

Gareth laughs and shakes his head, taking a hit of the joint before passing it on to Jeff. He exhales and at first, he tries to just shrug it off without answering.

“You know the rule. Spit it out.” Eddie says it so sternly and with such a shit-eating grin at the same time  that they all burst out laughing.  “This is the circle, Gare. No secrets.”

“Fuckers.” Gareth grumbles, irritated. “Fine. If any of you says a word, I swear to Ozzy..” he trails off and grins, kicking his sneakers together as he leans back, propping on his hands to gaze up at the ceiling. “It’s that little nose wrinkle, okay? It’s.. It’s so fucking cute and it reminds me of that rabbit my older sister Sarah had. And she’s always kicking her foot against the desk.”

Jeff is laughing harder, so hard that he takes a hit and it nearly doubles him over because he can’t stop laughing and he inhales and nearly chokes himself down on the smoke in the process. “Say what now?” he looks at Gareth.

Gareth shrugs and cringes as he adds in a quieter tone, “And she’s shorter than me, there’s that. Look, she’s small and cute… Like a rabbit. If you assholes say one word, I’m gonna kick your asses, got it?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Scout’s dishonor.” Eddie taunts, smirking. Gareth leans out to give him a lazy shove. “Especially not you, asshole.” Gareth warns.

“Aw, he really is in love.”

“I’m not, damn it. I’m not.” Gareth insists, glaring at his friends even though he knows it’s a lie deep down. And even  though it’s been weeks now and she hasn’t proven his original assumption right yet, he’s still living every single second that he knows you with the worry that eventually, the other shoe is going to drop.

Only now, he’s gone and fucked up, truly. He’s too attached now. So when -not if, because he’s convinced that this is too good to be true and any day now, he’ll wake up and it’ll have been a dream or a figment of his imagination, something, the bad thing does happen, it’s going to crush the guy.

The more he tries to fight it off, the deeper he winds up falling. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying and it’s frustrating as hell, especially lately, with the little nicknames and the way he can’t stop himself from touching you all the damn time.

“Just fucking do something, Gare. If you don’t, it’s going to drive you crazy and you will explode.” Jeff’s outburst has Grant and Eddie nodding in agreement. “The tension’s so fucking thick you’re kind of giving us all blue balls, idiot. Any second now,” Eddie wags his finger at Gareth with a smug look on his face, “You will explode.”

“I will not. It’ll be fine. Look, maybe being her friend is enough, man.”

“Bullshit.” Grant coughs but doesn’t bother covering the word as he does it.

“Yeah, he’s full of shit.” Jeff agrees, laughing as he shakes his head. “You’re full of shit.”

“That’s the biggest load of horse shit.” Eddie exclaims.

“Fuck all of you, alright? Why aren’t we talking about Munson making ga-ga eyes at a certain cheerleader, huh?” Gareth smirks when Eddie flips him off and he moves away from the circle, laughing. “Doesn’t feel so fucking great, does it?” he asks, folding his arms.

“Your situation and mine are totally different, shithead.” Eddie answers, going quiet. “Y’know I can’t tell her anything. She’s one of them.”

“And any day now, my girl could be too, idiot.” Gareth points out quietly.

Jeff shakes his head. “If you were any more stubborn you’d be a goddamn brick wall, Emerson. If she was going anywhere, she’d have done it at least the third or fourth day she was here. No… she’s always with you, with us, dumb fucker. Wake up.”

“I can’t with him, I really just can’t. Says all that and calls her his girl. Makes no sense.” Eddie mumbles, shaking his head too.

“You’re blind and an idiot, Emerson. And I mean that with all the care in the world.” Grant muses, taking a sip of a soda he only just remembers that he’d grabbed from Jeff’s kitchen earlier.

“As I said just a second ago, fuck all of you.” Gareth flips off his friends as he stands. “I’ll see you assholes tomorrow. Gotta get home.”

And as he’s leaving, his friends' opinions just won’t get out of his head. No amount of shoving them down will help, either because he’s starting to realize, even now, that they’re all right. Sooner or later -probably sooner, just being your friend isn’t going to be enough. It’s already starting, truth be told.

But the poor guy has not the first clue what to do to move things one way or another.

[the-widow-sisters]

Can you do, "If we both stick to the story, they can't prove anything," with Yelena and Darcy?

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this request!!! 🥰💞💞💞 I got a little carried away with this one and made it a tad longer 😂

I hope you enjoy!!! 😊

Please do send in some requests from my prompt list here if y'all have some! I'm currently only taking requests from the list, but I hope to be back to normal requests at some point soon 💗

Word Count: 1.8k+

   Honestly, Victoria’s Secret was the last store that Yelena would be caught in. She would rather be dead than have to go to a lingerie store.

   But alas, she realized that some sacrifices had to be made in the name of successful tormenting.

   She was here currently to find a piece for Kate just so she could tell her that she could wear it for Clint despite the fact that there was absolutely no way that Kate would actually do it or even have an opportunity to do so. She mostly just wanted to see Kate positively melt into a puddle in the floor at the mere implications of the statement, and then she would believe that all of the horrors of going to what she believed was the worst store in the world would be perfectly valid.

   “Yelena?!” someone suddenly cried, interrupting Yelena in the midst of looking through underwear on clothes hangers and delighting in her evil plan.

   Yelena looked up quickly, gaping blankly as she realized exactly who was in the store with her and who happened to be on the other side of the ring with the clothes hanging.

   “Lewis?!” Yelena almost yelped, and Darcy stared at her for just a moment more before laughing like a nutjob.

   Yelena finally snapped out of her stupor, and she glared at Darcy unhappily.

   “Oh, yeah, laugh it up. I’m here for something to embarrass Kate Bishop with. What are you here for?” Yelena asked her. Darcy instantly faltered, and Yelena just stared her down, waiting for her answer.

   “Uh… That’s not important,” Darcy tried to distract and deflect, but Yelena was not about to afford her the luxury.

   “Uh-huh, sure. You’re in a lingerie store and the reason you’re here isn’t important. Try again, Velma,” Yelena shot back sarcastically, and Darcy narrowed her eyes.

   “I think it’s more concerning that you’re here to embarrass Kate. I could just tell her what you’re up to, you know,” Darcy subtly threatened.

   “Oh, and then I could tell everyone that you’re buying special panties here at the secret store,” Yelena met her blow for blow, and Darcy paused for a moment, taking in Yelena’s threat quietly.

   “Well. Let’s just not tell anyone we were here, then,” Darcy astutely decided, and Yelena scoffed.

   “That’s an idea. I think it’s the first time you’ve ever had one of those, much less a good one,” Yelena responded, and Darcy let out a breath, rolling her eyes heavily as she uncomfortably looked through the clothes before them.

   There was utter silence between them as they searched through the clothes, the both of them largely only pretending to be occupied rather than actually putting their mind to things.

   This went on for just a bit longer until Yelena finally broke the quiet.

   “I can’t find anything here that I want in purple,” Yelena complained after a moment, and Darcy shrugged.

   “Yeah, I can’t find anything either and even if I did, it’s already too weird in here anyway.”

   “Can’t get any weirder than you wearing thongs,” Yelena commented, starting to head toward the exit with Darcy next to her. Darcy instantly let out a long and pained sigh of utter humiliation and unhappiness.

   “Ugh… You remember that?!” Darcy cried, and Yelena smirked widely.

   “That is the only thing I remember from that night, but it’s undoubtedly the best thing,” Yelena pointed out, referencing their wild night on New Year’s Eve not too long ago where she, Kate, and Peter had gotten drunk.

   “Why did you wait so long to bring it up?” Darcy asked, unable to help her curiosity.

   “Because I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment. And I’ve found it,” Yelena declared smugly, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

   “Well, I guess the good part is that you’ll never be able to give me crap in front of the girls about catching me at this store because it incriminates you,” Darcy shot back, and Yelena smirked.

   “Maybe not, but there’s always when it’s just us,” Yelena pointed out, and Darcy just scoffed tiredly, completely unimpressed with Yelena.

   Darcy, however, suddenly thought of something and she stopped in place.

   “Wait,” Darcy stopped them for just a moment, and Yelena turned to look at her strangely.

   “What if someone we know sees us when we head out of here?”

   “Well, then I suggest we think of something to say. Preferably a lie,” Yelena answered.

   “Okay, then, expert, what would you suggest we say then?” Darcy asked, looking far too sassy to be the one that was in the most embarrassing situation between the both of them.

   Yelena nodded to her easily, already coming up with something on the spot.

   “That is simple. We had to go to the bathroom, and this was the nearest place,” Yelena simply declared, and Darcy nodded before pointing out something else.

   “How do you explain why we were together? We don’t exactly make a habit of spending time with each other one-on-one,” Darcy explained, and Yelena groaned, glaring at her.

   “Must you always look at the negative side?” Yelena complained before shaking her head as she thought it through. Unfortunately, Darcy had made a good point despite Yelena’s gripes.

   After only a short moment, she quickly came up with something.

   “Okay, look, so we wanted to get to know each other better or something and so we… went out shopping together,” Yelena begrudgingly declared, unhappy with her own explanation because it was far too emotional for her liking. Darcy huffed, pleased with the statement.

   “Uh-huh… That sounds exactly like us,” Darcy forced a sickly sweetness in her voice.

   “Oh, shut up.”

   Ironically, as they headed out the doors of the place, they suddenly realized that their timing for making up the story they had made up as a contingency plan could not have been more perfect.

   “There’s Carol! And she sees us!” Darcy whispered nervously, completely losing her cool and sarcastic demeanor at the sight of the older woman, and Yelena’s eyes went wide as she instantly realized exactly how deep they were in it now and how quickly they had gotten in that state.

   Sure enough, Carol had spotted them the moment that they headed out the front doors of the store, and although Yelena legitimately felt like having a heart attack, she knew she had to keep it together.

   After all, this was Carol. Yelena knew exactly how she would react. She would be positively relentless and utterly merciless.

   “If we both stick to the story, they can’t prove anything,” Yelena assured her, pretending that she was looking behind her so that she could hide the movement of her mouth. Darcy nodded just barely in agreeance with her, trying to remain subtle so that Carol would not perhaps notice.

   “Well, well, well… What is happening here?” Carol questioned, already far too interested and the conversation had not even gotten particularly involved just yet.

   “Before you start getting fired up, Boomer, there’s a perfectly logical and sensible explanation for this,” Yelena told her, and Carol nodded slowly, regarding her carefully with a raised eyebrow.

   “What? You guys were trying to figure out Victoria’s Secret?” Carol questioned before laughing at her own wisecrack. Yelena narrowed her eyes, and Darcy spoke up.

   “Don’t worry, we all know by now that she was made up by a dude,” Darcy deadpanned as she referenced the popular TikTok song, trying her best to be nonchalant.

   However, Yelena could easily read the anxiety rolling off of her in waves. She just hoped that Carol could not see it so effortlessly.

   “As interesting as that is, I’d like to hear your secret,” Carol pointed out, redirecting them back on the right track.

   Yelena and Darcy shared a brief glance and just as Yelena was going to open her mouth to speak and tell their perfectly logical, completely fabricated explanation that was relatively simple, Darcy spoke up and interrupted.

   “We were going in there because we saw Jen,” Darcy stammered just a little, and Yelena looked at her carefully, narrowing her eyes just a bit before realizing that was actually something that they could work with.

   “Jen, huh? Isn’t she in LA doing her lawyer thing?” Carol questioned, quick on the uptake as she grilled them.

   Carol was on the prowl for information, and her natural, innate affinity for teasing was currently raging like a fire as she sought any fuel she could to keep it going.

   “She must’ve come to visit Bruce. Or that lawyer boyfriend that lives here in New York or something,” Darcy supplied, and Yelena subtly jammed an elbow in her side as she tried her best to keep her quiet.

   They were adding too many details to the story, and it was making too complicated of a mess for the both of them to have to keep up with to maintain the lie.

   “Yeah? And where’s Jen now?”

   “Oh, you didn’t let four-eyes finish,” Yelena declared, and Darcy shot her a definitive glare for her rather rude nickname that she had come up with for her.

   “Jen’s still in there trying things on, so we just decided to leave her to it. Some of those outfits were absolutely disgusting,” Yelena waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the store, her nose wrinkling as she tried to accentuate just how nasty it had been.

   Carol slowly nodded, looking slightly more convinced. After all, that did sound like something Jen could believably be doing.

   “Hmm… So you guys weren’t in there for any other reason?” Carol asked, still fishing to see if there was even the smallest juicy detail that could incriminate them. Yelena shook her head confidently, completely unbothered.

   “Nope. Just that,” Yelena assured her, and Carol looked at them for a moment longer before shrugging and seemingly letting it go.

   “Okay. Well, I’ve got to get going. I came here to look in that biker clothing store place Natasha told me about, and there’s a leather jacket calling my name,” Carol joked with them, and Yelena nodded quickly.

   “You go for it,” Yelena told her, and Darcy nodded with her.

   “Yep.”

   “See you guys around,” Carol told them as she turned to head out, and Yelena offered her a wave in an attempt to be as cool about it as she could.

   “What did you think of my improvisation? I’ve been practicing,” Darcy proudly declared.

   As Yelena opened her mouth to reply, Carol suddenly spoke up once more.

   “Oh, and by the way, I’m going to call Bruce later and fact-check,” Carol called, raising her voice as she moved away. Yelena and Darcy instantly blanched.

   As soon as Carol turned away from them, Yelena turned to Darcy, her eyes narrowed as she practically hissed.

   “Stick to the story! What part of stick to the story do you not UNDERSTAND?!!!!”

[anxiouspotato]

Heard in my school- Part 2- Spring semeter edition:

*On the bus*

Kid: Dude... I was on my laptop yesterday and some teacher was on (computer monitoring software) and I'm not sure who... so anyways... I was kinda messing around and searched 'Snake' on Google and whatever teacher that was watching me closed the tab before the results came up. So I did it again. And they kept closing the tab so I finally opened a Google Document and wrote in huge letters "Bro... Stop closing out my tabs" and tried 'Snake' again and this teacher just closed out of my computer.

Friend: Wait... what class were you in?

Kid: Lunch

*In the hallway*

Student 1: Hey! (Student 2)!

Geometry teacher: *To me and my sister* Aww! Look! (Student 1) is pretending he has friends!

*Earth Science*

*Student comes in with bag of candy and begins handing it out*

Teacher: Come on now (Student)... you should know by now that you can't make friends using candy... the second you run out of sugar they're going to ditch you

*Earth Science*

*Student 1 and Student 2 being noisy*

Teacher: Does anybody remember the day last month when (student 1) and (student 2) were both absent?!?! It was so quiet!

*English class*

Student: *Walks up to teacher* Hypothetically speaking, if a student had one of those party popper things and popped it in class, would you write them up?

Teacher: Hypothetically speaking? I mean... probably not... where are you hiding it?

Student: Oh no... not me... I'm asking for a friend...

*Student proceeds to walk up to front of room and pops the party popper*

Teacher: You're going to clean that up... right?

Student: Sure

*Five minutes later*

Teacher: I'm regretting my choice... now my room smells like gunpowder... thanks (Student)

*Homeroom*

*Janitor walks in with a huge roll of paper towels and awkwardly hands it to teacher*

Teacher: Uh? Thanks?

Janitor: The office said you needed paper towels...

Student: YES!!! (Teacher) you need paper towels!!!!! *Runs up to get the roll*

Teacher: Okay?

Student: *to janitor* Thank you! She needs paper towels... she just hasn't realized it yet.

*After band concert*

Trumpet player: Yeah! Y'all did great! I'm going home and crying now! See y'all tomorrow!

*During band concert*

Band director: *Gets so into music he forgets he's controlling us and we're waiting for the cue to finish song.* *Proceeds to forget his own name*

*Trying to smoke a cigarette on the bus*

Friend 1: Hey (Friend 2) can I have a cigarette?

Friend 2: Nah man... you can't smoke on the bus... it'll smell too much

Friend 3: I mean you could... we'd just have to get a draft going... if *starts pointing out windows that'd have to be opened* then it'd work

Friend 2: Yeeeaaaahhh... that'd work... I only see one problem with that plan...

Friend 3: What's that?

Friend 2: You'd have to convince (Student 4) to open his window so that (Friend 1) can smoke a cigarette...

Friend 1: Hey (Student 4) can you open your window for me?

Student 4: *Barely glances up* no.

*Health class*

*Debating whether or not (student 1) has a hickey on his neck while he denies it, although it really looks like a hickey*

Teacher: *Walks past him and pats him on the shoulder* It does look like a hickey bud.

*After group debate finishes*

Student overseeing: Okay! You all did great! I enjoyed seeing all of your ideas! We still have about 30 minutes before we have to reconvene with the rest of the groups so we're going to have a few fun debates. Before we start that though, does anybody have any questions, comments or concerns?

Student: *Raises hand*

Student overseeing: Sure! What's up!

Student: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Student overseeing: Uh... no... we're not doing that. Next question please!

*On the bus*

Bus driver: Are y'all in the back getting hot?

Students: Yeah

Bus driver: Okay, I'll turn the heat off.

Student 1: Thanks Mom!

Student 2: Yeah thanks Mom!

Bus driver: I don't mind if you call me Mom but just remember one thing, Mothers Day is coming up and I expect a gift.

Student 1: Okay, I'll get you one.

Student 2: Oh sh*t. Nevermind!

*Band*

Whole band: *Playing piece before competition*

*One lone trumpet comes in during what should be a low brass part*

Director: Hey uh... was that (trumpet player)

Trumpet player: Uh... yeah... that was me

Director: Okay... do you know what measure we're on?

Trumpet player: Yeah measure 82

Director: And you play in measure 82?

Trumpet player: Yea-nope. Nevermind. Sorry my bad.

*Day of competition*

*Trumpet player begins to come back in early like the day prior*

Director: *Whisper shouts* NOT YET (trumpet player)

*Author's note! We just listened to the judges comments and when he began to come in early, one of the judges goes "whoops!" and that was probably one of the funniest things I've ever heard*

*English class*

*Kids demonstrating GoNoodle to our english teacher who'd never heard of it before*

English teacher: And what grade did you all do this in?

Students: Fourth and fifth

Teacher: Wow... that explains a lot

Sudent 1: Yeah! Our teachers used it to get our wigglies out!

Teacher: This explains so much

[actually-the-antichrist]

Wat is the American left doing, exactly?

​When we talk about the right we talk about "hate". About the various marginalized and vulnerable groups they have targeted before. But what they have been doing in that time that they've turned from talking point to talking point is to organize- to experiment and hone the political tactics they have, to find leaders to stand behind and pull together rhetoric to use, to form a more and more unified front. When we see the MAGA shit and the right's sensationalist slogans repeated a billion times on TV channels, by politicians, in news papers, in the comment sections of mass media, we think: those irrational people and their irrational beliefs. Their "hate". But that is missing the point, because politics isn't about rationality or "love"- it is about narratives (I would have thought the 2016 US election taught you guys that much "at least"). And what those slogans show is political cohesion.

​And I hate to put it this way, because when I look at the left, what do we have, exactly? Is there something we support, something we stand behind other than scrambling to defend whatever minority the right makes its next target? Are there any single political figures in the current playing field that we can choose to stand behind, or do we just critique all of them and call it a day? Okay, say the status quo of traditional politics itself is to be done away with- do we have an idea of what an alternative looks like and what concrete things we should be doing now to bring it into reality? Or do we just focus all our energy on calling out what's wrong with the current situation and call it a day? It's almost absurd of me to say, but the left is far from powerless. What exactly have we been doing?

And it pleases me in no way to say it like this- but what the right has is an entire cohesive worldview. When the insurrectionests stormed the Capitol, they knew what they believed in. They knew what they were doing. Under the guise of "restoring old glory", actively trying to bring about an unprecedented future of full out white supremacy. That was not the beginning but the result of decades and decades of political narrative work- and that might not have worked at the Capitol but it's going to show at the polls. It's going to show among the public. As much as it pains me to say: there's a reason we talk about the right as a political movement. Because they are a political movement. And we are...what, exactly?

"Oh, the mass media is skewed rightwing"-"the right just know how to do propaganda"- uh, no? What I'm seeing is that the group notorious for calling for "individual freedom" is the only one that knows how to actually politically organize in the States. Whilst the group that's defined by a politics of collectivity is...calling for revolution on Twitter? Infighting amongst ourselves for the billionth time? How do y'all think the Communist revolutions of the 50s started? By...Twitter mobs??

​So now here we are. Here we fucking are. It's trans people "next". But it isn't trans people "next". It isn't anything "next"- Trans people are the "first" on the chopping board in the right's perfected political machine. Trans people are the test for the strength of their carefully sharpened tools over five decades' time. And the leftist response to that move is what, exactly? That this is another standard attack against "lgbt rights"? That this is just another instance of the right's "hate"?

[ttuesday]

Hi there! It's not tuesday, but nevertheless is a good day to wish you the best in life, op! uwu

The trope enemies-to-lovers if one of my faves. This is an idea I saw on tiktok.

Character: *trying to be a smug little shit to tease reader* Oh, you wanna fuck me sooo bad it makes you look stupid.

Reader: *matching their asshole energy to not give them the satisfaction* If I wanted to fuck you I would've done it by now.

Can I please have some HC on the VLD boys reactions after being told this by their enemy they are so obviously crushing on?

Arthur

Arthur was tipsy. He had a few drinks before bumping into you so he was feeling more confident than usual. He puffs out his chest as he says it, feeling uncharacteristically smug.

But my god, the second you snapped back that quick witted response, all that smugness disappeared in an instance. It was kinda like a metaphorical slap in the face that Arthur needed to stop trying to be a smug bastard.

"Right..." he said clearing his throat, suddenly feeling very awkward "well then I guess I'll be on my way". Honestly, he feels a little embarrassed that he said it and regrets it considering he now believes you have zero interest in him. But if you asked, then Arthur would be more than happy to buy you a drink to make up for it.

Dutch

Dutch had thought about this many, many times. This whole back and forth thing you both have going on, constantly insulting each other and trying to one up the other. Oh yeah, Dutch sees all of that as some good ol' foreplay.

It was during a heated fight between the two of you when he finally decides to say it. He was so confident it was going to turn you in a blushing, flustered mess. He couldn't stop smirking after he says it.

But his face drops when you say your response. He wants you a lot more now but he knows that nothing is going to happen now. "Touche" he replies, squinting his eyes slightly. He knows you’ll fall for his charms some day but until then he’ll keep muttering curse words whenever he sees you.

Micah

Micah loves how good you are with comebacks. You don't take any bullshit and you're incredibly badass, and luckily for you both of these things are big turn on’s for him. When Micah said this, his plan was to see how you’d react to the idea of y'all fucking.

And your response? Damn, is it getting hot in here? After hearing your response now he's just horny. If anything, your reply has reinforced his attraction to you.

"How's about you give me the chance to change your mind, hm?" he smirks. Micah would love the chance to tell you 'I told you so' especially when it comes to the possibility of you wanting him too.

John

John was having a bad day so he wasn't in the best of moods when he ran into you. Normally he tries to be somewhat civil around you but today he didn't care anymore. When he said it, John tried to say it in the most teasing tone he could muster.

John expected you to come back with a quick witted response. If he was going to be honest with himself, your sharp replies is one of the many triats he finds so hot about you.

Surprisingly John smiles when you say your response and shakes his head slightly. "Sure, whatever you say" you can tell he doesn't believe you but you can't tell if he's saying it to get under your skin or because he genuinely thinks you're lying.

Javier

Javier had just messed up a robbery when he saw you. He was pissed off and once he spotted you, he was just waiting for you to make some snarky comment and so he decided he'd make a remark before you could. Javier knew he was being kinda petty but he didn’t care.

Though he'd never admit it to you, he was actually impressed with your response. If he overheard you saying that to someone else he probably would've laughed and thought it was really funny but since you were saying this to him, Javier didn't see the funny side of it.

Javier does love some angsty back and forth so he doesn't back down. Lowering his voice and gazing directly into your eyes, he says "We both know that's a lie, I've seen how you look at me".

Bill

Bill was drinking his sorrows away at the local saloon when you walked in and made his day a whole lot worse. You annoy Bill so goddamn much. Sometimes he'll even go on rants by the campfire late at night about how much you irk him but this has only led to the others teasing him about you.

He hates how the others could pick up that he has a crush on you and that's another reason why you annoy him. Bill just blurts it out, not fully thinking through the sentence before he says it out loud.

Bill creases his brow once you retort back your answer. "Well you... I, uh..." Bill's brain goes blank when he tries to think of something else to say. "Shit" he mutters, chugging the rest of his drink.

Sean

Sean was actually very proud of his quick witted comment. In his head, Sean was thinking 'oh yeah, this'll get 'em all flustered'. Christ, he was so goddamn cocky saying this.

He also really hoped you'd admit to being madly in love with him if he said this and then you'd both start ripping each other's clothes off and make some sweet sweet love... Sean has thought about this a lot.

But when you reply, Sean’s in shock and honestly he was trying his best not to pout. "What's that supposed to mean? You really don't find me attractive?" he's gobsmacked "Are you sure? Maybe it's the lighting in here��.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

More demon!Nesta please I am begging 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

Thank y'all so much! I'm glad everyone has been enjoying Demon Nesta :) And I hope y'all enjoy this installment. It has fluff! It has angst! It's over 4,000 words which is CRAZINESS! But shout-out to @talkfantasytome for the idea for Cassian's deal. Also, I tried to pull from Greek mythology in terms of the Underworld and souls but uh... yeah... just go with it! TW for mentions of death and intense Underworld things

Part One // Part Two

Cassian doesn’t like to admit it, but the weather can play a pretty big role in his moods. He considers himself a pretty carefree person through and through, but there’s something about it. Something about waking up to the sun slipping between the cracks of his curtains, painting soft golden spotlights across his floor and sheets. Something about crisp blue overhead and a gentle breeze filling his lungs. It has an uncanny way of flooding his veins and burrowing deep in his bones in the best way.

But for the first time in a long time, Cassian finds himself wishing for darker weather. Wishing for heavy grey clouds to fill the sky, to engulf and blot out the sun, the moon. Sadly, his wishes go unanswered, and Cassian awakes to just a few white wisps streaked across blue. He barely holds in a groan at the back of his throat as he lets his head drop back down against his pillow. He lets himself count to five, let’s his brain focus on each breath as it pulls at his chest and settles in his lungs, before finally pulling himself up.

When he gets down the stairs, Nesta is already up and sitting at his kitchen table, a steaming mug in front of her and an open book perched in one hand. Cassian can’t help but notice the air mattress that’s already deflated, blankets neatly stacked atop it. The sight has Cassian swallowing hard.

“I couldn’t touch them,” Nesta says, not bothering to look up from her page. “But I can feel the power. They’re definitely charged.”

Cassian turns his attention to the crystals sitting on the sill by the open window. He carefully gathers them up, placing them back in the box the shop woman had originally packed them in.

“What are you doing? We need those for the banishment.”

“We can do it tonight,” Cassian explains simply. “I vote that we spend the day doing something fun.”

Nesta slowly closes her book, pinning Cassian with an unimpressed look, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed. Cassian refuses to let the look get under his skin the way he knows she hopes. Instead, he just smiles.

~ * * * ~

“This is your idea of fun?”

Cassian chuckles as he throws his truck into park, turning to where Nesta has her arms crossed in the passenger seat.

“Well, I don’t want to look like a crazy person talking to myself, so that sort of limited my options.”

Before Nesta can protest more, Cassian throws open his door. He hops down and walks around to the passenger side, opening Nesta’s door for her. Nesta slides out of the truck, her feet crunching against the gravel of the parking area. He leans in to grab the backpack from the backseat, tossing it over his shoulder. When he turns back to Nesta, her arms are still crossed and that ever present scowl is pinched across her face.

"That doesn't look like the face of someone who is about to have fun," Cassian teases.

"Has anyone ever told you you're annoying?"

"Multiple times actually."

"And you don't think that warrants a personality change?" Nesta quips.

"You and I both know you wouldn't have me any other way, sweetheart."

And with that, Cassian turns on his heel, making his way toward the trail head. Luckily, Nesta doesn't make any further comments, nor does she dispute his claim, as Cassian hears her soft footsteps fall in behind him.

The start of the hike is a bit steep, so Cassian has Nesta walk in front of him along the narrow path to avoid her slipping. They weave their way up and up, the main road and its cars getting smaller and smaller until they eventually disappear behind the sea of bark. The breeze shakes the branches above their heads, raining down leaves that crunch under their feet.

At a particularly tricky section of the trail, Nesta grips Cassian's hand in her own. He helps hold her steady as she navigates the small rocks pressed into the dirt to create a semblance of stairs. Despite her being a demon and the cool Autumn air, her hands are surprisingly warm, and when the trails evens back out and she releases her grip, Cassian misses that heat instantly.

The path finally branches off to a series of flat rocks, creating a type of overhang, and as they step out of the cover of trees, the full sight takes shape. Canopies of reds and yellows stretch out below them, leaves twisting and swaying in the fall breeze. The Sidra River cuts a path to their left, blue waters glistening and tiny shops and homes dotted along its banks. The sky is mostly blue, but the white clouds that do marr its surface create streaks of light like the Cauldron itself shining down.

Cassian finds himself entranced as he watches Nesta take in the view. The way her whole face softens and her lips part slightly in awe. Her eyes dancing across the landscape before fluttering closed, dark lashes splaying across the apples of her cheeks. Her chest heaving as she takes in a deep breath.

"It's beautiful," Nesta comments.

"Yeah," Cassian whispers, never taking his eyes off her.

It takes a moment, but Cassian shakes himself out of it. He steps forward to join Nesta, sliding the backpack off his shoulders before settling with his feet dangling over the edge of the rock. Nesta settles beside him, as Cassian digs through the bag, pulling out the two sandwiches he had packed and handing one to Nesta.

“It’s so… quiet,” Nesta notes as she unwraps her sandwich.

“The peacefulness is why I like to come out here,” Cassian says, turning his head to face Nesta. “Oh. Um… you have a little…”

Nesta’s eyebrows dip in confusion, and Cassian gestures to his own face in an attempt to better explain what he means. Nesta just continues to blink at him. After another moment passes, Cassian decides to say ‘fuck it.’ After all, this could very well be their last day together. He reaches his hand up between them, his thumb rubbing gently against the corner of Nesta’s lip. Nesta’s eyes catch on his at the brush of his skin against hers, and Cassian isn’t sure if either of them is breathing. Her skin is soft and tantalizing, and Cassian can feel himself subconsciously leaning in closer before he catches himself, pulling back and clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” Nesta assures him. “Should we head back?”

Cassian can feel the word ‘no’ weigh heavily against the tip of his tongue, desperate to escape, so he swallows it down and simply nods. He offers Nesta his hand, but she doesn’t take it, pulling herself to her feet. She takes one last look at the view, something Cassian almost thinks is longing gracing her face, and then heads back for the path. As they make their way down the trail, Cassian finds himself desperate for miles, for the woods around them to stretch for miles and miles and swallow them whole. Instead, his truck comes into view.

~ * * * ~

The sun is just beginning to set when they pull into Cassian’s apartment complex, purple clouds bleeding into deep blue as the first stars begin to twinkle to life. The ride up the elevator is silent, and it takes all of Cassian’s willpower to quiet the incessant buzzing of thoughts ricocheting around his head as he gathers the crystals and sage. Nesta produces a piece of black chalk from somewhere, holding it out for Cassian.

Cassian takes a deep breath before reaching forward and taking the piece of chalk out of Nesta’s outstretched hand. He bends down and begins drawing the circle along the floor. Once the circle is complete, he pauses, fingers gripping the piece of chalk tighter. Before he can talk himself out of it, he draws the line of the pentagram.

“I don’t think we need a pentagram. The lady at the shop just said a circle,” Nesta points out.

Cassian ignores her, hopping to his feet and collecting candles, lighting and setting them around the pentagram.

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be using the crystals, not candles.”

Cassian digs his phone out of his pocket, finding his message chain with Rhys, the photo of the page he had pleaded with him to find in his library. He can feel Nesta’s eyes on him, but he reads the words in the photo.

A deep rumble seems to shake the whole apartment, the pressure in the air dropping as dark tendrils skate along the floor in swirling clouds. Barely another moment passes before a man is standing in the center of the pentagram, power pulsing out of him in heavy waves. His dark eyes pin Cassian in place like a predator sizing up its prey. A slow smile pulls across his face, all sharp edges and too white teeth.

“You humans always do have a death wish,” the demon sneers, looking at Cassian down his nose in disgust.

Cassian resets the stance of his feet, squaring his shoulders as he stares the demon down. “I want to make a deal.”

“Do you?”

“For Nesta’s soul.”

The demon’s eyes snap to where Nesta is standing, watching the whole exchange with wide eyes, before settling back on Cassian. Something like realization seems to crash across his features, and then he laughs. It’s mocking and wrong and it grates against every nerve ending in Cassian’s body.

“A soul has a high price, boy,” the demon bites out. “Are you sure it's worth it?”

“Yes,” Cassian replies without hesitation, earning a head tilt from the demon in response.

“Interesting…” the demon comments before a slow smirk tugs up one side of his lips. “Alright. You can have her soul… if you can find it.”

With a wave of the demon’s hand, a door appears suddenly against the wall of Cassian’s living room, the wood a dark oak with wrought iron nailed into lines across the planks. The hinges creak open, and the darkness awaiting on the other side has the air stuttering to a stop in Cassian’s lungs. A cold breeze blows out the door, leaving goosebumps breaking out along his skin, and he swears there’s a heartbeat coming out of the unnatural darkness. Or maybe that’s his own heartbeat pounding through his ears.

At some point during the process of the door appearing and opening, Nesta has drifted to Cassian’s side. He reaches over to take her hand in his, palms sliding together and fingers tangling in a tight grip. He takes a final deep breath, trying to calm the budding panic settling in his stomach and threatening to claw its way up his throat, then steps through the threshold. The door closes behind them with a resounding boom, and all that’s left is the darkness.

“You know, I knew you were an idiot when you accidentally summoned me, but this is taking it to a whole other level,” Nesta snaps at him, tearing her hand free from his.

Cassian turns toward her voice, blinking a few times to get his eyes to adjust. “Are you kidding me?”

“I should be asking you that! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about you,” Cassian practically yells. “I can’t lose you.”

“And I’m supposed to be okay with losing you? This is a suicide mission. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“It’s worth the risk.”

“No, I’m not,” Nesta protests, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Cassian steps forward, finding his way toward Nesta through the shadows enveloping them. He reaches his hands up between them, framing her face and sliding his thumbs against her cheekbones. They may not get another moment. Nesta may be right and this may be a suicide mission, a fool's dream. So Cassian finally gives in. He gives in to that feeling that's been bubbling and flourishing deep inside him since he first saw her standing in the middle of his living room. That feeling that took root in his chest and spread like vines through his veins until every part of him thrummed for her. He finally leans down and presses his lips against Nesta's, relishing in the softness of them, in the soft sigh that skates across his skin as she melts into him.

A screeching cry breaks the darkness, causing them to break apart. Cassian snaps his head in the direction of the sound, squinting through the shadows. He’s not sure why, but he half expects some winged creature to come tearing toward them, but the stillness remains.

“Welcome to hell,” Nesta mutters. “Literally.”

Nesta grabs his hand and begins walking. He wonders if her demon eyes help her see down here as he blindly follows her. But luckily, as they walk, shapes start to take form. They’re in some sort of tunnel, jagged obsidian rock framing them on both sides and above their heads. Some sort of dark liquid drips down along the rock, and Cassian shudders to think what it could be. Their steps begin to echo around them, the ceiling of rock starting to stretch higher and higher.

The darkness finally begins to bleed into a pale light, and Cassian is finally able to take in more around them. Particularly, the forms walking past them along the walls. They’re ghostly devoid of any color, clothes ragged and barely hanging on to their lithe limbs. Their steps don’t make a sound, and their gaunt faces stare straight ahead with a hollow expression.

“Don’t look at them,” Nesta snaps, keeping her voice low.

“Are they dangerous?”

“If they feel threatened.”

Cassian glances back to the forms. One of them lifts their head slowly, vacant eyes meeting his. Cassian quickly snaps his eyes back forward, just in time to see the tunnel empty out into a large room. Despite there being no sunlight, a large elm tree stretches its branches wide and high to their right, its leaves an ominous deep red. A tall double door made out of that same dark stone stands a few feet ahead, intricate drawings carved into it. It seems to follow some sort of story, the way the carvings weave together. In front of the doors, evenly lining either side, are statues. Cassian swears their stone faces watch him.

Before they make it to the door, the statues snap to life, and suddenly, Cassian finds Nesta’s hand torn away from his own and three female figures crowding into his space. They each are wearing a pale flowing dress, but Cassian doesn’t miss the emptiness to their eyes. Those eyes bore in him, burrowing under his skin like claws, as they circle around him like prey.

“Who do you think you are?” one of them bites out, dragging a nail across his shoulder and down his arm.

“What is it you think you’re doing?” another snaps, digging nails into his forearm in an iron grip.

“Just let us pass,” Cassian pushes out through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure it’s worth it?”

“Are you sure she wants it?”

“Are you sure she wants you?”

“Why would she want a bastard like you?”

“What do you have to offer her anyways?”

“As soon as you free her soul, she’ll find someone better, someone worthy.”

Cassian squeezes his eyes shut, focusing his mind on drowning out their lilting voices dripping with cruelty. He thinks instead about Nesta. As the women continue to hiss in his ears, he thinks of Nesta’s soft smiles, the ones she rarely shares but he knows are just for him. As the women’s nails scrape against his skin and through his hair, he thinks of Nesta’s soft golden waves and the way they fall against her shoulders and back when she wears her hair down. He reaches out blindly for Nesta’s hand to ground him but comes up empty. It makes his eyes snap back open.

Over one of the women’s shoulders, Cassian finds Nesta. She’s standing stark still, a man Cassian doesn’t recognize, who doesn’t look like one of the statues from before, standing before her. The sneer painted across the man’s face and the way his eyes seem to be cutting into Nesta is enough to have Cassian using all his strength to get away from the women. He tears his arm free, pointedly ignoring the pain at the action, shouldering past the other woman blocking his path.

It only takes a few seconds to get to her, and he’s putting himself between this man and Nesta. He’s not quite sure what the man is, but the way his skin seems to bubble and shimmer has Cassian thinking he must be some sort of shapeshifter. The sneer falls from the shapeshifter’s face and his head tilts eerily as he takes Cassian in with dark eyes. Even though those eyes never leave Cassian’s face, he can feel them dig into his bones, sinking into his soul and the secrets it bears. Slowly, the shapeshifter begins to stretch and change, an all too familiar set of dark curls appearing, but the face is less familiar, even as the cruel lines of the smile strike a chord deep in Cassian’s chest.

“Let us pass,” Cassian says again, keeping his voice steady as he reaches back for Nesta’s hand.

The shapeshifter doesn’t say anything, so Cassian decides to take a tentative step forward. When nothing happens, he takes another. The shapeshifter’s eyes follow them, and Cassian can still feel the eyes of the three women crawling over his skin, their hisses of doubt still trying to worm their way into his mind. But Nesta’s hand is a solid weight in his hand, so he presses on, past the other guards, and pushes through the door.

The other side of the door is more darkness, but globes that flicker a sickly yellow at least line the walls. In the distance, Cassian swears he can hear running water.

“Who was it?” Nesta whispers as they walk. “Who did Fear show you?”

Cassian swallows around the lump trying to solidify in his throat, tightening his grip on Nesta’s hand. “My father.” When Nesta doesn’t say anything more, Cassian decides to give in to the question on his mind. “Was the man you—Feyre mentioned there was a guy that—”

“Yes.”

Before Cassian can say anything more, they come up on a river of some kind. It’s wide, but even in the dim lighting, he can see the other side. From the shore they’re standing on, it doesn’t look too deep, but the current is slow enough that Cassian is sure that even if it's not, they should be able to make it to the other side with little issue.

“Cassian, stop!” Nesta’s panicked voice breaks through the quiet, her hand tugging hard against his. “Just one foot in and they’ll pull you under.”

“What will?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What do we do then?”

“Wait.”

Cassian turns to Nesta fully then, his brow furrowed in confusion and tongue heavy with further questions, but Nesta’s gaze is pinned down the river to their left. A small yellow orb breaks through the shadows. It bobs and grows, and soon Cassian realizes it’s coming from a lantern attached to a wooden boat. At the other end of the boat stands a man, or at least Cassian thinks it’s a man. A long, ragged black robe hangs from his body, and the hood hides the top half of his face, only long pale fingers that grip the oar truly visible. The boat comes to a stop in front of them, and the man holds out a hand expectantly.

“You have to pay with a memory,” Nesta explains. “Something important, that means a lot to you.”

Cassian watches as Nesta extends her hand, the way she closes her eyes and shudders when it meets with the man’s. After a moment, the man’s hand shifts toward Cassian, and Cassian slowly raises his own, clasping to fingers around that pale palm. Cassian’s eyes slide closed, and suddenly he’s ten years old. Twinkling red and green lights flicker in his eyes, and the laughs of Rhys and Azriel in the other room echoes in his ears. He can just make out the fresh pine scent of a recently cut down tree and the smokey smell of a crackling fire, but it’s the soft perfume that fills his senses. Delicate hands guide his own as he presses a cookie cutter into the dough. Before Cassian can focus on anything more, the scene falls away to blackness, and when he blinks open his eyes, he can’t even remember what he had been thinking about.

Satisfied with their payment, the man steps back to take up post at the back of the boat. Nesta steps in first and Cassian follows behind her. Once they’re both settled, the man pushes off the shore with the oar. As they make their way down the river, Cassian can’t help but lean over and look into the dark waters below. Gaunt faces with empty eyes stare back at him, their mouths agape and frail limbs reaching up through the dark waters. Suddenly, Cassian understands why Nesta said not to step in the water.

The water begins to pick up around them, burbling and rising around them in swirling waves. They lap up against the side of the boat, and Cassian grips the wooden seat beneath him to stay steady against the rocking. A dip in the river sends the boat careening slightly forward, the sound of the waves growing louder and louder, echoing in Cassian’s ears and bouncing around his head. He can’t see ahead, but he’s sure there must be some sort of rapids. Considering the jagged rock of this whole place, he’s not sure how that will end, and he can’t help but swallow hard against the fear bubbling in his throat.

“Hold your breath,” Nesta’s voice draws his attention suddenly.

“What?”

“Hold your breath, and don’t stop. Even when it hurts. Even when that little voice tells you not to.”

Before Cassian can even ask what she means, the boat jerks suddenly, and then there’s water pressing in all around him. He opens his eyes, but in the dark waters, he can’t tell which way is up. He pushes his arms and tries to swim anyways, hoping his instincts are right and he’ll find the surface. After a few moments, a burning feeling begins to spread in his chest, squeezing his lungs, begging for air. Cassian tries to swim harder, willing his arms to push through it as he fights to find the surface, but he stops short when a familiar voice caresses its way into his mind. It’s a voice of lullabies, of quiet bedtime stories about princes and warriors.

“Let go, Cassian,” the voice whispers. “Let go and breathe in.”

Cassian thinks back to Nesta’s words, and he squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his lips firmly together as he ignores the voice.

“I said let go,” the voice hisses, no longer soft and motherly.

Cassian wills his mind to stay blank, to keep the air tight inside his lungs, even as the voice gives way to a ringing in his ears, even as red begins to pop behind his eyelids. He clenches his fists to ground himself, and he holds his breath.

When Cassian’s eyes snap open, he gasps for air, instantly coughing as dust and dirt fill his mouth. He rolls onto his back, his chest heaving as he swallows down gulps of oxygen. As his lungs finally start to settle, he takes in his surroundings. He seems to have ended up in another tunnel of shadows and jagged rock. He pushes to his feet, and it’s then that he realizes he’s alone. He spins quickly in his place, eyes searching desperately for a familiar figure.

“Nesta?” Cassian rasps, his throat still aching from before. He clears his throat. “Nesta!”

Cassian strains his ears, but only silence answers him. A stone settles hard and heavy in his stomach, his heart clenching in his chest before kicking up to beat double time. He can already feel the bile threatening to climb up his throat, as he forces his feet to move further down the tunnel.

“Nesta!” Cassian calls again, hearing the thick worry that coats his own tone. He doesn’t care, not as his blood pounds in his ears, as his whole body starts to shake. How could they have failed? How could they have come this far, but not far enough? Cassian presses his palms hard against his eyes, tries to stave off the panicked water beginning to build there. How could he be so stupid? He tries to take a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves, but all it does is stutter through his lungs.

“Nesta, fuck, where are you?” he mutters.

Cassian is about to try calling her name again when he notices a light. Before he can even think, he’s running in that direction. The tunnel gives way to a meadow, and Cassian has to cover his eyes and blink a few times against the brightness. A warm, summer breeze dances across his cheek, leaving the tall blades of grass and soft flowers dotting through the green swaying like a gentle tide. And there, in the center, is a figure, a soft blue dress adorning her frame and golden brown waves flowing down her back.

Slowly, Cassian steps through the meadow toward her. He prays to whatever gods that may be listening that it isn’t a trick, that he isn’t dreaming.

“Nesta,” Cassian whispers, reaching out for her arm.

She turns, and this time there’s smokey blue eyes staring back into his own.

[tokyokookmin]

Hello.. first of all I wanted to kneo if you ads korean ?? Hehe okay now the real question.

Can you please claim a bit about taehyungs statement to a taekooker 'GET OUT OF YOUR IMAGINATION IT'S NOT GOOD THERE' . What he actually meant ? I see taekookers defending him saying many k- tkkrs also said he doesn't meant that ! He was just saying army to get out of their imagination because they can't get Jungkook I'm their lyf. So Please put some light on this. And are there k- tkkrs also?? 🤔🤔 I mean are they also "loud" as jikook in Korea?? What does korean people think about it?? I saw somewhere that taekook are more loud (2019 ? Till now) and they also say that jikookers only misinterpreted his statement because taekook are getting more loud ?? 🤔🤔 Especially tae ?

AND BTW I BELIEVE IN JIKOOK AND SUPPORT TEHM 💗 I was just curious!! 😅😅

Thank uh "^

Helloo anon! It's been a long time since I blogged lol. Thank you for being patient with my delay <3!!!

"first of all, I wanted to know if you are Korean ??"

The plain answer is No, I'm not Korean but I certainly am an Asian. Our cultures are pretty similar (send me asks if y'all want to know more about Asian cultures, been thinking to make a series!) and I'm only one hour earlier than Korea! So that means that I don't miss their CB's 😂 .

'GET OUT OF YOUR IMAGINATION IT'S NOT GOOD THERE'.What does he actually mean? I see taekookers defending him saying many k- tkkrs also said he doesn't mean that!

Thank you for letting me know regarding this issue, really had no idea about this. So after about 10 minutes of scrolling through the get out of your imagination searches, I found esoteric tweets. Before I get to that, this was exactly what MR KIM TAEHYUNG, THE MAN HIMSELF commented on a ridiculous post on Weverse.

Tae wanted to sleep quicker and asked fans if they had any suggestions on how to fall asleep quickly.

An Army said... I do! Oppa, you can look at pictures of Jungkook Oppa who you love. You know what Tae said, we know 🤣 I ain't giving trans!! 🤣🤣

You know what? What taehyung said to that taekooker is him indirectly telling them not to go extreme with the shipping. He's done, he really is. I have no clue what taekookers mean by the get out of your imagination sentence because most of those tweets were like 'if you know you know' so ig that remains as a secret that only taekookers know LOL. I'm the least interested to know what it means.

I mean are they also "loud" as jikook in Korea?? What do Korean people think about it?? I saw somewhere that taekook are louder (2019 ? Till now)

Alright, alright, I see... Again, I searched for taekook on the bird app and I found multiple tweets about K-taekookers, mostly just i-taekookers talking about how much k-taekookers know things more than them,( LOL my tongue is getting twisted reading my own sentence 😭😭)

anywayssssss

I really don't think that the population of k-tkkrs are more than k-jkkrs. LOL.

I'm not gonna attach tweets about K-jkkrs because there are just so many of them and I would like to protect those accounts <3 (the biggest shipper acc got suspended so #iykyk)! I personally have interacted with my k-jkkrs so I can assure yall they do exist and that they proudly stan jikook! I love them so so so much💗!!!

Just one jikook tweet since we're all missing them!

Since I just found out that our little mochi jiminie has just gone through an operation, let us give him lots and lots of love and good wishes for him! Speedy recovery my dear!

Once again, continue to support them and thank you anon <3!!💗💗.

[just-mya-writing]

wasn't sure if you wanted it where reader is in a relationship with each boy, or if there's just a crush, so I did both cuz why not

Fem!Reader Casually Mentions she Masturbates in Front of the Boys

Kyle (if dating)

Bless this boy

He was picking you up with the plan to take you out to eat

You were running just a liiiittle late

But Kyle is on a schedule

No tardiness allowed

So you knew what to expect when you hopped into the gingers car

His expression a mix between annoyance and amusement

Melted into something sweeter as you kissed him on the cheek

He couldn't even scold you for being twenty minutes late

You clicked your seat belt in place as you should always do as he started the ignition

"So what took so long? Make-up? Getting dressed?" he oh so innocently asked

"Nah, I was masturbating" you jokingly responded

oh

oh dear god

Kyle's mind went blank and his brain shut down

You looked over at him when you realized the car wasn't moving

He sat upright, hands clenching the steering wheel, with his mouth slightly ajar

He was blushing

He was drooling

"...Kyyyyyle..."

"Ah...y-yeah?"

He seemed to snap out of it for a sec, turning to look at you while wiping his mouth

You smirked at him

"Whatcha thinking bout?" You asked with a devilish smile

Kyle turned away quickly, face becoming hotter

"I think...you know"

"Oh?" You smiled, unbuckling your seat belt "I do?"

He sunk down in his seat, hands still on the wheel of the motionless vehicle

"Mmhmm..." he bit his bottom lip as he glanced over at you

His entire face turned two shades of red as you moved from your seat to his

Prying his hands off the wheel and moving the seat back, you sat on your boyfriend's lap, staring into his glossy eyes

"I think you should tell me Kyle" you whispered, leaning close to his face. "What were you thinking when I told you I was masturbating?"

His hands were fidgeting at this point, trying to keep away from your thighs

"What would you think..." you continued, licking your lips mid sentence "if I told you I was thinking about you while I touched myself?"

That finally made him come undone

The two of you spent a long time in his car

Missing your dinner reservations entirely

(if not dating)

Flustering Kyle was so much fun to do

Also incredibly easy

You decided it'd be funny to make him turn as red as his hair while in class one day

"Hey Kyle! I know what I want you to get me for my birthday!"

"...your birthday isn't for another-"

You shut him up by thrusting your laptop in his face, showing him the site and item you were requesting

It was a dildo.

A large, black, twelve inch, pulsating, self lubricating dildo

It was on sale

He immediately started sputtering and looking away from the screen

"Wh-what the hell do you need that for?!" He squeaked

You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion

"To masturbate with...duh."

He immediately covered his face, trying to shake the dirty thoughts of one of his best friends away

You tried not to laugh as he almost groaned out your name

"Pleeeease stoooop" he pleaded, face peaking out just enough to see him blushing intensely

"..."

"...so no dildo?"

Stan (dating)

You were hanging out with your close friends one surprisingly warm day

You had convinced everyone to get some bubble tea

So now everyone was hanging around the local cafe, talking about literally nothing

Jokes, stories, and insults flew by so quickly, there was never a lull in the conversation

Stan had his arm around your waist

His grip tightening anytime you spoke and had all the boys look at you

Somehow someway, the conversation went on a huge tangent and y'all were talking about porn stars

Everyone was naming the hottest actors in multiple categories

You piped in with one you personally liked

The boys went quiet as you took a sip of your drink

"Uh...what?"

You looked at the boys curiously

Kenny had a weird smile on his face

Kyle was blushing

Cartman looked like his brain was malfunctioning

Your boyfriend started at you wildly

"You...you watch porn?" Stan asked hesitantly

"What the hell for?!" Cartman squeaked

"Sex education" you said deadpanned. "I watch when I masturbate! Duh" you rolled your eyes

"Oh ho hoo, you're a dirty little girl, aren't you?" Kenny smirked, earning a deadly glare from Stan

You just shrugged your shoulders

"Y-you can't just say stuff like that out loud!" Kyle sputtered

"How the fuck do you even do it without a dick?" Cartman argued

sigh

"Well you see, I usually start with just two fingers and-"

"Alright! That's enough, we're leaving now" Stan announced, grabbing the hand you were about to use to demonstrate and speed walking away

The comments your friends made behind you only made you laugh and cause Stan to walk faster

The blush on your boyfriend's face becoming more apparent, as well as the boner

(if not dating)

"Lalala, can't hear you, nope. I'm not listening..."

Stan was covering his ears, eyes tightly shut while you continued to laugh

"Awww, c'mon Stan. What's wrong with wanting to feel good?" You joked, bumping his shoulder

The two of you were relaxing on his couch playing video games

You didn't realize casually joking about masturbating to one of characters would cause Stan to break down, yet here you were

"Staaaaaaan, c'mon, we gotta finish" you laughed, trying to look at his face

He was definitely blushing

He grumbled incoherently, picking up his controller. Refusing to look at you as the game continued

...

"...I'd masturbate to that character too."

"Please! Why?!"

Stan couldn't exactly focus on the game anymore

Kenny (dating)

ohhhh man

This boy

He is personally offended if you touch yourself without him

You're just laying with him in your room

Actually, you're laying on the floor, while he searches for your "secret drawer" full of "secret toys"

You can't help but shake your head and joke with him

"I bet you have a purple dragon dildo" he snickered "and at least, like, three vibrators"

You laughed, nodding your head

"Oh wow, yup, you got me. I have a very large collection"

Hearing the sarcasm in your voice, Kenny looked over at you with a smirk

"Heh. Knew it"

He went back to his fake search, continuing to mess with you while you went along with it

"I can't believe I haven't even found a bottle of lube yet" he sighed, faking disappointment

"Yeahhh..." you mumbled, picking at your nails. "I used a lot of toys last night, you might wanna check under the bed"

When you didn't hear any response or movement from the boy, you looked up, angling your neck to look at him

His sad, upside-down figure looked back at you

Puppy eyes, lip out and quivering, he looked like a child that was just told they couldn't have any sweets

"...you masturbated...without me?" His voice raised an octave and he added a few fake sniffles "I thought you loved me..."

You held back a chuckle before turning to lay on your stomach

"I'm sorry baby, I was needy"

"I'm needy!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air

"Awww, you poor thing..." you shook your head. "I'll remember that for the next time"

That made him perk up as he shuffled closer to you

"Next time? When is this illusive next time?" He asked, smile growing wider

You paused to think for a second, sitting up

"...you got condoms on you?"

"Duh"

Turns out that "next time" was a lot closer than either of you thought

(if not dating)

He also casually mentions masturbating

Frequently suggests you two masturbate together

Always laughs when you say it in front of the boys cause watching them freak out is the best kind of entertainment

You and him had a sort of friendly competition to see who could get the other flustered

You won when you described how you thought of him while you touched yourself the other day

was it a lie? the truth will never be revealed

Kenny.exe has stopped working

Congrats, you broke the town slut

Cartman (dating)

NOPE

This boy is too immature to even entertain the idea of you playing with yourself

He doesn't even understand female anatomy

He's never even seen you naked before

So when you oh so casually mention a certain past time of yours, his mind just goes blank

He can't even picture it

His sweet, darling, perfect girlfriend

Masturbating?

"Only dudes masturbate! What the hell are you lying for?!"

Bless your patience

You gotta explain

He doesn't even know where the g-spot is

He didn't even know what the clit was

bully him

next time he’s with the gang

he just obnoxiously goes, “hey fuckers, did you know my girlfriend masturbates??? isn’t that weird?” 

congratulations, guess what your friends are gonna be thinking about for the next forever three days 

(If not dating)

?

??

???

he’s

he’s just

why are you telling him this, why is he listening, why is he thinking

he still thinks girls have balls, like

why 

is personally offended each time you allude to it

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[ashes-writing]

the power of love pt seven | stranger things ; s.harrington

TAG LIST BABES || REQ RULES + FANDOMS/CHARACTERS || GOT A ? || MASTERLIST

CHAPTERS ; 

one + two + three +four+five +six can all be found by clicking.

AUTHORS NOTES;

SO... this one is a step forward. Maybe. This is another one of my attempts at a slow burn that's actually not a slow burn fail yet. But I swear, y'all. Things are going to start to heat up real,real soon. I have an idea in mind for it, tbh.

Huuuuge hugs and thanks to everyone who takes the time to read and interact whether it be a like / reblog with tags / reblog / comment, you guys have kept me going more times than you realize. You have no idea how much it means to me and how happy it makes me bc honestly. I mean it when I say that I do not post with any expectation beyond getting rid of ideas in my head as they pop up. So this blows me away, it really does.

SUMMARY;

-- steve doesn't like soap operas but he loves likes having you around so he'll endure it.

aka, the one where you start off totally unaware of Steve Harrington and then you start to tutor him. Then you become friends. And this, of course, leads to other things.

PAIRING;

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem reader of no physical description beyond having female parts.

WARNINGS;

Swearing. Cute awkward domestic fluff. Steve is angsty, oh my god. But that'll be clearing up soon wink wink.

TAGLIST;

The only people on my taglist for Stranger Things currently are listed below. If you’d like to be and you aren’t, please go add yourself via the link at the very top of the post.

@ALLELITESMUT

@AURUMBELIS

@ARIES-ARCADE

@COLE22ANN

@HCLOANGCLS

@HEYAITSKLAUDIA

@ICEQUEEN1371

@KRYS-ORION

@LETSBEDRAGONSTOGETHER

@MUSICHEALSSCARS

@SCOOBIESSNACKS

@SUITS-AND-SMIRKS

OTHER STUFF;

Set in S2. After his breakup with Nancy. Upside Down + all assorted monsters and fuckery do not exist here and nobody dies (Barb is alive actually) it's just slice of life stuff.

He hates this stupid soap opera, but he’d never tell you this. Because the noise -and you being with him, are what really matter. He’s not alone, left to stew in his own thoughts in a big empty house whenever you’re around.

“Why are we watching this shit again?” your brother asks the question in an annoyed tone and you glare. “Because, damn it. Today is the day Luke Spencer will finally not fuck something up, I can feel it in my bones.”

“You say this every single time. I hate to tell ya.. He’s gonna do it again. I’m calling it now.” Steve chuckles as he says it. He doesn’t have the first clue what the plot is about for today’s episode. He doesn’t care to. But when you get angry and you rant at the tv screen like what you say will have any bearing on the outcome of whatever the fuck is happening, it’s kind of cute and you look hot when you’re annoyed, he can’t deny that if he tries.

He watches for you.

“Goddamn it, Luke, no. You stupid, stupid son of a bitch.” you throw up your arms in such a rush that the popcorn in the bowl on your lap spills out a little. “I’m gonna go punch something or flip a table over. Either of you want anything while I’m up?” you ask as you lean back in the doorway from inside the kitchen.

“The remote.” Dustin deadpans and you laugh. “Not happening, kid.”

“Damn it.” Dustin frowns and grumbles. Steve clears his throat. “This show is bullshit.”

“You agree?” Dustin’s looking at him now, interested. Steve isn’t dumb, he sees that this is possibly getting his foot in the door just a little bit more.

There’s clanging and banging in the kitchen and Steve’s head snaps around on a swivel as he raises up to peer over the back of the sofa. “Damn it. I’m buying your sister a stepladder. What is it with her, huh? She takes anything higher than her head as a personal climbing challenge.”

“She always has.” Dustin answers. And then, it clicks for him and he grins. Checking to see if you’re still out of earshot, he gazes at Steve. “Do you like her?”

Steve freezes.

And then he gulps.

“I,uh.” he messes with his hair. “I mean, she’s my friend, duh.” he snorts, laughing as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world but Dustin shakes his head. “No. I mean do you like her, like her. Is she the girl you were talking about outside of the arcade that day when you said “There’s this one girl, I don’t think she’d hurt anybody, but..” and then you went quiet?”

Steve bites his lip and squirms a little. And he doesn’t know how to answer it. If he answers honestly, he’s not dumb, there’s a good 50/50 chance Dustin will tell you, because you’re close even when you’re arguing or he’s annoying you. But he wants Dustin to like him and more importantly, he wants the kid to trust him, so he takes a deep breath. Brown eyes fix on the worn leg of his jeans and after a few seconds, he finally finds the nerve to answer. “Yeah.”

After another deep breath, he gazes at Dustin. “You can’t tell her though. Pretty sure she doesn’t feel that way.”

Dustin gapes. And then laughs to himself. He could correct Steve in a heartbeat, but you’re his sister and that loyalty is one hell of a lot stronger. Besides, you know his robot broke your mom’s vase and he is not risking any of your mother’s wrath. 

“What’s so funny, huh?” Steve questions, because it stings just a little and he’s half expecting the kid to say something along the lines of him not being good enough or his past reputation. Dustin glances back at the kitchen, you’ve apparently decided that you’re hungry and you’re making pasta with that marinara your mother taught you how to make. 

And he thinks to himself, ,, screw it. Somebody has to clue this poor bastard in.” and with that thought in mind, he speaks up. “She likes you too. Just won’t say anything. I mean, she really likes you. She went on a three page tangent in her diary about it.”

The confession hits Steve like a brick wall full speed and full force.

“Diaries are private.” Steve scolds the kid gently. Dustin shrugs. “She left it on her windowsill when I was scavenging for quarters to use at the arcade. Besides.. I’m not telling if you don’t, got it, Harrington?”

You wander back into the living room and the rich and herby scent of whatever you were cooking wafts in with you as you hold a plate piled high with pasta. Steve pretends to pout but you hold out your fork to him. His mouth closes around the piece of pasta and his teeth scrape the fork as you gently pull it free from his mouth.

“Hey! You could’ve brought me some.” Dustin grumbles, pulling himself off the couch to go and fix himself a plate. Steve groans at the taste of the second bite he’s taken and you laugh softly as you shrug. “Good?” you tease gently, leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder for a second only to shoot up, yelling at the soap opera as it plays on the television in front of you.

“I told you so.” Steve chuckles through a mouthful.

“Oh bite it, Harrington.” you retort, pouting a little. 

And all Steve can do is sit beside you, stealing bites off your plate as he tries to wrap his head around what Dustin admitted to him. He cannot, for the life of him, figure out what to do with what he knows now.

On the one hand, it’s what he wanted to hear but honestly didn’t expect. On the other, what if he’s not enough?

The thought is persistent and it’s always plaguing him, never far from his mind because there are a list of people in life he hasn’t been enough for, his own parents being right at the top.

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 6

So I'm thinking next chapter will be... a big one.

You cannot know how happy I am to see all your comments and reblogs and messages and general kind words about how this story is making you feel. Love y'all. Keep asking! Keep messaging! I want to talk about this all day lmao.

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Angst, slow-burn, yearning, 18+ language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Next Part Playlist

--------------

Age: 20

“Why did you even ask me out Frankie? Do you even like me?” She was embarrassed, walking towards the door.

“Yes of course, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.” He tried to walk it back but she was incensed, her cheeks burning bright with anger. She rounded on him when she got to the door, making him step back slightly from her onslaught.

“When you invited me over to meet your friends I didn’t expect to be ignored so you could flirt with her. Get your shit together Frankie, I’m not gonna go out with someone who’s too busy pining over someone else to notice me.” Her eyes were bright with un-shed tears, if she expected some sort of answer or explanation - he had none.

He watched her go.

“Everything okay Francis?” Spills had come looking for him.

“Yes, everything’s good. She had to go.” He had a big smile for her when he turned around.

“Will she be back?” Thankfully she hadn’t heard them.

“I doubt it.” He couldn’t be too sad about it though, not when she looked up at him like that.

——————

**Present Day**

He could still feel her wrapped around him as he walked to the shore. Could feel her moulded to his back, her legs on his waist. He had meant every word he’d said to her, he would gladly stay there with her forever.

“How was the water babe?” Claudia kissed him when he lay on the towel next to her to dry off, wrinkling her nose slightly at the water that trickled from his hair onto her face.

“Beautiful.” His eyes were on Spills, floating in the water. “You should take a dip.”

“No thanks, I’m perfectly happy here. Can you get my back babe?” She smiled up at him but he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were trained on the water. “Francisco?” She had to tap him to get his attention. He tore his gaze away to face her.

“Sorry babe, yes of course.”

You can’t keep doing this Francisco. Get your fucking shit together and focus.

“You okay fish?” Pope's voice startled him slightly and when he turned to look at him his expression was serious. “You seem a little… distracted.” His eyes quickly flashed towards Spills floating in the water.

I never should have told him.

“I’m fine.” His voice was clipped, he really didn’t need this right now and he hoped his tone was warning enough. Pope didn’t say anything but he had a feeling he’d hear about this later.

“I wanna ask her out.” Benny had sat down beside Frankie and was staring out at Spills.

“You should! You guys would look cute together, wouldn’t they babe? We could double date or something.” Claudia was happy at the prospect but Frankie's stomach dropped. He felt the anger crawling in his gut, tensing his muscles at the prospect of Benny with her.

This isn’t normal, I shouldn’t feel like this.

“I think you should, Benny.” Pope clapped him on the back. “Fish - I think you should put in a good word for our boy.” It was hard for Frankie not to lash out but why would he? He was engaged and Spills was free. What reason could he possibly have to not want this to happen?

There’s only one reason why, and I can’t fucking help it.

“Yeah of course. I’ll talk to her.” It took everything in him to keep his voice neutral.

“Only ask her out if you’re serious, don’t bother if you’re going to fuck around because that’s his friend, she’s not a random.” Will chimed in, ever the voice of reason and Frankie was thankful.

“I know that.” Benny smiled, and Frankie had to keep quiet.

----

Everything was quiet. Your ears were submerged as you floated peacefully in the water, eyes closed. The ocean always managed to make you feel safe despite its size. Maybe that was what appealed to you, it was so vast and unknowable, you could get lost in it.

You saw the shadow obscure the light despite having your eyes closed. Pope was in the water with you and you smiled at him. Of all the army friends Frankie had introduced you to, Pope was the most mysterious. He guarded his words and you had the sense that he knew way more than he let on.

“Did you have anything planned for the bachelor party yet?” His question dropped a boulder into your stomach.

Fuck, I forgot about that.

“Nope - hadn't even remembered until you said it. I have no idea how the hell to plan one.” Your eyes widened at the thought of it and he laughed, not unkindly.

“I figured, I can help you out. He’s a simple guy - but I'm guessing you already know that. I’m guessing you know much more about him than we do in a lot of respects.” He was smiling at you but there was something underneath his words, a tone you couldn’t discern.

“Probably - known him a long time.” It felt like you were under the microscope.

“Years worth of stuff that Claudia doesn’t even know.” His eyes were burning into you and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was gauging your reaction.

“In all likelihood, but she’ll learn eventually I imagine.” Your voice sounded a lot calmer than you felt.

“Obviously no strip clubs, that’s not his thing. Just get all his friends together and get him drunk.” He was watching you closely but your eyes were focused on Frankie, he was laughing and happy - talking animatedly with Will about something and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I can see how much you love him.” Your eyes flashed towards him. “Like a brother, right?” He raised his eyebrows at you and you felt the colour drain from your face.

Am I that fucking obvious?

“Yeah… like a brother.” You were lying, even when you were younger you knew you’d always loved him, but it never felt brotherly. He knew. “See ya.” As much as you wanted to be in the water, you couldn't handle the scrutiny anymore and you made your way back to shore.

---

The rest of the day was spent mostly in your head, you tried to focus on the conversations you had. You tried to focus on the water and the sunshine but it seemed like Pope’s words and his implications followed you.

“You okay Spills? You’ve been distracted all day.” You’d been on the road for almost half an hour and you’d barely said anything.

“Yeah - sorry, just tired. Need a shower.” You smiled at him weakly.

“You sure? Seems like you have something else on your mind.” He glanced over to you and your heart swelled. His curls were defined from the salt water, his face was a little pink from the sun and he looked so warm and soft. You ran your fingers through his hair seemingly without thought. It was so soft and you had to fight the urge to keep touching it.

“I’m okay Francis - gotta plan your bachelor party.” You couldn’t keep the sadness out of your voice, hoping it came across as tired. You were both silent the whole ride home.

--------

You never would have thought it, but you were glad to be back at work. It was the one place that had no memory of Francis. You could come in, completely focus your energy and forget everything for most of the day. In all the time you worked there - you’d never been this productive but with the wedding slowly approaching, the anxiety was slowly creeping in.

Nowhere was safe now.

[unknown contact]: hey Spills! It’s Claudia - I got your number from Frankie. I was hoping you’d be able to come with me tomorrow to the bridal store. We have to make sure you match everyone on the big day!

Really fucking wish you wouldn’t call me that.

[you:] hey Claudia! Uh yeah sure what time?

[claudia😒]: great! Appointment is for 10am - I’ll send you the address, see you then! 🙂

[you]: sounds great - see you then!

Well that’s just great.

It had been a week since the beach trip and the peace couldn’t last.

—-

There was something about Claudia that got under your skin.

She’s marrying the love of your life, obviously she gets under your skin.

She was friendly enough, and she loved Francis - you could see that in her excitement; but there was something underneath. You got a sense that she was trying to pull a fast one on him.

“Spills, if Frankie and I move, would you come visit us? I think you’re holding him back a little bit.” She was standing as they made adjustments on the dress which thankfully had made it in time to be altered.

“What? What do you mean?” Where was this question coming from?

“Well, he wants to stay here. He wants to live close to his mom and you, but I’m trying to convince him to live back home with me. Maybe if you told him it would be okay and that you’d visit he’d give in.” Your blood was boiling. Give in? His wants and needs had to mean more to her than that?

I have to calm down, I’m overreacting.

“He already told you he doesn’t want to leave? Maybe you guys should compromise? Middle-ground?” You had to put your diplomatic hat on, couldn’t just tear into this girl. The logical part of your brain told you that this was normal - couples disagree about things all the time and it made sense that she’d want to be close to her family and her home.

“Yes he’s set in his ways. It’s frustrating.” She laughed lightly. “I just think that if you gave him your blessing he’d be more open to leaving with me.”

But you don’t have my blessing, I’m the wrong person to come to with this.

“I really think you should talk to him about this - he’s never been the kind of guy to be swayed. Won’t matter what I say.” You were being honest as well as telling her it wasn’t your problem in a roundabout way. She didn’t say anything else and you could tell she wasn’t happy with your answer. You left it alone.

---

You couldn’t put it off any more, as much as you were dreading this wedding you still had responsibilities as his best-person. You had to get everything together and throw this stupid fucking bachelor party.

You messaged all of the friends you knew he kept in touch with, telling them about the outing. They had things planned the whole week up until the wedding so it had to be the Friday before the wedding. Which means you had little less than a week to get it together.

[you]: Hey Francis - can you give me Popes number? Trying to plan your party!

[Francis]: Sure - sending it now. Hopefully it’s nothing too crazy?

[you]: Shit… you mean you don’t want your own parade? Should I cancel the army of exotic dancers?

[Francis]: You’re hilarious, honestly.

[you]: just taking you to a bar you fool, just want to coordinate with him because I don’t have everyone's contact info.

[Francis]: Sounds good, thanks for this - I never got a chance to ask but how did it go at the bridal store?

[you]: Went well

You thought about everything Claudia had said and debated on telling him. Would he want you to? Would she want you to? Somehow you didn’t think she’d be too happy unless you were on her side. Which you decidedly weren’t.

[you]: Think you should talk to her, she’s not happy with you wanting to stay here, after the wedding I mean. I support you whatever you decide but she seemed to think that you needed my blessing in order to leave with her. I told her she needed to talk to you - and I’m telling you the same thing.

Being honest and supportive was the best course of action and you hoped that neither of them (him more so than her) would be upset with how you went about it.

It worried you though when he didn’t answer and you had to trust that they would both understand that you didn’t actually want to influence anyones decision.

Liar, I want him to stay. Even if it’s not with me. I want him to stay.

You pushed the thought away and messaged Pope, the both of you came together and planned a dinner for everyone on the Friday before the wedding, which would turn into the bachelor party after. In five days, he’d be married and if Claudia got her way - far far away from you.

------

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @librariantothejedi @studythoreauly

[yuki-the-master-of-demons]

Sensitive Spots Part 2 (NSFW smut/angst) Mammon X Male MC

This is a continuation of another post: Part 1

Yuki is FTM (he/him). I just wanted to write smut but characters decided to go for angst

"What? Did I say something weird?" Yuki asks as all the demon brothers stare at him.

"Oh, Yuki." Asmo coos. "You really don't know what you do to us do you? Giving Mammon's wings special attention and then asking to do the same with everyone else."

"We weren't doing anything like that!" Mammon barks. "And even if we- If we were, what's the problem, huh?"

Yuki shrugs. "It's biology, and I like biology. I wanna learn about demon anatomy, and, while books can teach a lot, a diagram is nothing like touching the real thing."

"Well, that statement isn't wrong," Satan chuckles. "I suppose I should have leant you more descriptive books."

"That would be nice." Yuki comments. "Though, I'd still like to poke and prod y'all if y'all'd let me."

"You can poke and prod me all you want, Darling." Asmo giggles. "I can show you just how different demon anatomy can be."

"Me first." Belphie buts in.

Beel pauses chewing. "I wouldn't mind it either."

Satan chuckles. "I'd be happy to help educate you with a private lesson, Yuki."

"Oh no you don't!" Mammon growls. "The only one giving Yuki an anatomy lesson is me!"

Levi whines. "How can all of you say this stuff so casually?!"

Lucifer sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Yuki, why is it that you always seem to rile them up?"

"I don't fucking know, but it's nice to know I can study y'alls' demon forms, at least most of you it seems like." Yuki smiles. "This is gonna be fun."

"I can't wait, Darling." Asmo leans in closer to Yuki, but, before he can respond, Mammon yoinks him out of his chair.

"I call dibs!" Mammon yells before running off with the human as an uproar comes from his brothers. The demon pulls Yuki into his room, slams the door, and shifts into his demon form as he faces the human.

"So that just happened?" Yuki looks at Mammon with confusion.

"Can you not be a nerd for 5 seconds?" Mammon grumbles with his cheeks flushed. "Do you have any idea what you've been saying?"

Yuki stares blankly at Mammon. "Uh..." Yuki shrugs.

"Well, if you really want to be a nerd and study demon anatomy, you'll be studying me first." Mammon pouts.

"Oh uh, okay. So how do you wanna do this?"

Mammon gulps and takes Yuki by the hand, guides the human to sit on the bed with him. "Ya can go ahead and touch me..."

Yuki hesitates. "Where am I allowed to touch you?"

"Anywhere. Just- Touch me."

Yuki looks over Mammon's torso before tracing the markings on the demon's chest. Mammon's breath hitches.

"They're a different texture." Yuki mutters. "Are these tattoos or...?"

"They're kinda like birth marks." Mammon answers. "I didn't pick 'em."

"They look good on you." Yuki begins to undo the buckles of Mammon's top. It doesn't take long for the leather to fall from Mammon's shoulders. Yuki scoots himself to sit behind the demon.

"Ya really like my wings, don't ya?" Mammon chuckles softly.

"Yeah," Yuki answers easily. "They're really cool." Yuki delicately pulls at Mammon's wing and sees how far it can spread. He feels the thing leathery like skin and follows the white edges to the demon's shoulder blades. Mammon bites his lip. Yuki's hands feel up along Mammon's back, feeling how the muscles connect to the demon's wings. Mammon swallows his moan.

"You said the tissue here was sensitive." Yuki comments. "What does it feel like?"

"Good." Is the only word Mammon can get out without letting a groan slip past his lips. Yuki rubs the area where the leathery wing joins Mammon's back. The demon's wing twitches. Yuki rubs it again, the wing twitches again. Mammon can feel his cock stirring in his pants. Yuki tries rubbing another spot, this time Mammon's wing flutters. Yuki does this again and again, finding different spots at the base of Mammon's wings, seeing how the wings move depending on where he touches. A soft curse from the demon catches Yuki's attention.

"You good?" Yuki asks, looking over Mammon's shoulder. The human notices how Mammon's chest is heaving, cheeks and shoulders are flushed. Yuki's eyes widen as he looks further down and sees Mammon's cock straining against his pants. "Oh..." Yuki mumbles. "Oooooh, so they're that kind of sensitive."

Mammon turns to the human and growls. "Now you realize it?"

"Huh."

"'Huh?' 'Huh?!' Is that all you're gonna say?" Mammon tries to calm his breathing down.

Yuki shrugs, eyes not leaving the tent in Mammon's pants. "It's interesting anatomy. Is this kind of reaction common with all demons or is it-"

"Are you seriously still acting fucking like a nerd right now?"

"Should I not be?" Yuki asks.

"Fucking-" Mammon grunts. "You really are something else."

Heat rises in his Yuki's cheeks. "Are demons different down there as well?"

"I- Yeah." Mammon gulps. "Do ya... wanna see?"

Yuki slides off the bed and sets himself between Mammon's legs. "May I?" He asks.

"Fuck yes." Mammon groans.

Yuki hesitates for a moment and then undoes Mammon's belt. He unconsciously licks his lips as he pulls the zipper down, leaning closer as he does so. When Mammon's cock springs free, Yuki's eyes stare in amazement.

"Wow." Yuki mutters. White markings line either side of Mammon's cock, and rows of ridges are stacked along his shaft. Yuki leans in closer, fingers wrapping around the base of the demon's cock. Without thinking, Yuki leans down and licks the tip.

"Fuck." Mammon moans.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me." Yuki pulls away.

"Don't fucking apologize." Mammon reaches down and runs his hand through Yuki's hair. "Go ahead. Study my cock with your mouth."

Yuki leans in closer again, looking up at the demon to make sure what he's doing is okay, and takes the tip of Mammon's cock between his lips. He runs his tongue over the slit, savoring the taste of the demon. His hand slowly begins stroking the demon.

Mammon groans. "Fuck, Yuki."

Yuki takes more of Mammon into his mouth, mind going fuzzy as heat grows in his lower body. Yuki's other hand wanders down and begins rubbing circles against his clit through the fabric of his pants. Yuki strokes faster and begins to bob his head, taking in more and more of Mammon's cock each time his head descends. When he looks up, Mammon's blue eyes are staring back at him with flushed cheeks.

"You look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock." Mammon moans.

Those words both embarrasses and encourages Yuki. He tries to take Mammon deeper, trying to take the demon down his throat. He chokes and has to pull away, but he does back down, determined to take all he can. He closes his eyes as his head bobs faster, both of his hands working Mammon's cock.

"Y-Yuki-" Mammon pants. "I'm- Fuck, I'm close."

Yuki pulls Mammon's cock from his lips and strokes the demon's cock. He opens his mouth, tongue out and ready. The human looks up, watching as how Mammon's shoulders shudder and how the demon's bottom lip bleeds as he bites it.

A guttural groan escapes Mammon as he cums, his fingers digging into Yuki's scalp. Yuki keeps staring at the demon, taking note of every detail he can, as rope after rope of cum shoots into his mouth. Mammon stares back, watching as Yuki licks his lips clean and sucks the tip of Mammon's cock, making sure every drop is in his mouth. For a moment, the two stare at each other in silence. When Yuki swallows his cum, Mammon pulls the human onto his lap, and they kiss each other desperately.

"Mammon!" Yuki gasps when the demon bites the base of his neck. "Fuck- Your teeth."

"Too much?"

"No." Yuki grinds on Mammon's cock. "Do it again."

"Fucking asking to touch all my brothers." Mammon growls in Yuki's ear. "If you're gonna pick us all, I'm gonna be your first."

Yuki moans loudly as Mammon's teeth sink into shoulder, and the demon bucks his hips. "On you back." Yuki commands.

Mammon's pact pulls him down onto the mattress. He gazes up at Yuki with wide eyes.

"Was that okay?" Yuki asks as he rest his hands on the demon's chest.

"Y-yeah, ya just surprised me."

"Sorry." Yuki chuckles and lifts himself, pulling his leg free from his pants and underwear. His shirt is just long enough to cover himself. Mammon can't see it, but, when Yuki sits himself back on the demon's abdomen, Mammon can feel how wet Yuki is.

Mammon's hands trace up Yuki's thighs and pushing up the human's shirt. "Damn." He mutters.

Yuki flushes and pulls the shirt back down. "It's okay. You don't have to pretend to find me attractive."

Mammon's eyebrows furrow. "'Pretend?' What the hell are ya- Yuki, you're hot as fuck!"

"I'm really not." Yuki shrugs. "I accidentally got you horny, now you need a release, and I'm a warm body close by. It's okay, I'm mediocre. I get it. You don't have to lie."

"I ain't lying!" Mammon grumbles and flips Yuki over, laying the human face up while he cages Yuki in with his arms. "What the fuck are you talking about? Yuki, you fucking drive me wild! You drive so many demons nuts with how hot you are!"

Yuki stares blankly at Mammon for a beat and then laughs. The human yelps suddenly when Mammon flips Yuki on his back. "Mammon?" Yuki gasps.

"You're fucking sexy." Mammon growls. "If you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you." The demon licks up Yuki's neck, making the human gasp. Mammon's hands sneak under Yuki's shirt, feeling up the human's torso.

"Ma-Mammon-" Yuki moans. "You don't have to-"

"I want to." Mammon pulls Yuki's shirt over the human's head. "I want you."

Yuki looks back silently before nodding. "Okay, just- If you want to stop at any time, I won't be mad."

"Ya don't need to worry about that." Mammon mutters as he trails kisses down Yuki's torso. "Spread your legs for me."

Yuki gulps and does what he's told, opening his legs and revealing his hard clit and wet folds. Mammon rests his hands on the human's thighs and licks his lips. He leans in closer and blows on Yuki's sensitive bud. Yuki gasps, hips jumping forward at the sensation.

"Mammon, please-" Yuki mewls.

"Don't worry. I got you." Mammon says before running his tongue across Yuki's hole. The human's hands shoot to Mammon's hair, one of them gripping one of the demon's horn. Mammon goes deeper, pushing his tongue into Yuki and savoring the human's taste.

"Fuck- Mammon, I- ." Yuki moans, back arching. Mammon shifts his his focus, tongue twisting around Yuki's clit, as two of his fingers slowly enter the human's hole. Yuki's legs encase Mammon's head, pulling him in even more.

"M-Mammon, yes- Mammon." Yuki squirms in the demon's grasp as he repeats Mammon's name again and again. Mammon's fingers pump into Yuki, making the human's legs shake, as the demon sucks and nibbles on Yuki's clit. With a final curse and whimper of Mammon's name, Yuki cums. Mammon feels Yuki's walls squeeze his soaked fingers, and the human's clit pulsing on his tongue.

Mammon pulls away and licks his lips as he looks over Yuki's body. Yuki's chest is heaving, and his body still twitches as he comes down from his high. Yuki's arms have pushed his glasses up as he covers his face. "Yuki," Mammon pulls himself up and kisses Yuki's chest. "Lemme see that handsome face of yours."

"I'm sorry." Yuki chokes out, not moving his arms.

"What the hell are you apologizing about?"

"I just- This is-" Yuki sniffles. "What we just did- Why? How could you- Why me?"

"Ah fuck, are ya crying?" Mammon panics. "Did I hurt you? Did I-"

"No! No, I just-" Yuki wipes his eyes. "It feels so impossible. Mammon, you're- I know I'm not ugly, and that I can be cute sometimes, but I know I'm not sexy. You said that's not true, but you're- You're fucking gorgeous Mammon. You have it all, the looks, the voice, the confidence, the experience, but me- I just- I don't understand how you would ever do something like this with me. I'm just the mediocre nerd who's lucky enough to not be repulsive on a good day."

"What the hell, Yuki? Is that how you see yourself?" Mammon pulls the human in for a hug.

"I mean, how else can I see myself." Yuki murmurs. "Look at me."

"I am, and you're fucking sexy."

"I don't understand how you can say that."

"Because you are!" Flushed, Mammon leans in and kisses Yuki with agrowl. "You don't know how often you drive me wild."

Yuki is silent for a moment before speaking. "I don't understand, but... I know you aren't lying to me. I just- You're you, Mammon, a model with tons of fans who flirt with you, while the only people who try and get my attention want to copy my assignments or ask to cheat off of me during exams. It's obvious what people think of me, so how- Why do you, of all people, think I'm sexy?"

"Yuki, have you seen your face? Have you seen your body? Do you know how often you leave me all hot and bothered? I-" Mammon's face turns a darker pink and takes Yuki's hand, guiding it to hard cock. "Your voice, the way you called my name. The way you moved and moaned for me, I'm hard again because of how fucking sexy you are."

Yuki kisses him.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[rudjedet]

I mean mostly yes, but since being trans is a neurological condition based on dysphoria your claim that this person definitely wasn't trans doesn't hold water. It may not be incredibly likely, but it is most certainly possible. Trans people, especially trans men have almost no historical figures, unlike women, so please don't be rude.

Is there like.. a reason you're copy pasting a three year old comment on Controversial Truths into my inbox or what's your deal here anon?

So for the record, while I'm not trans I know that trans people without dysphoria do exist. The idea that you have to be dysphoric to be trans is outdated and harmful I'm pretty sure.

And secondly, as I've said a thousand times before: even if we ignore the fact that we can't apply current gender/sexuality terminology to ancient cultures simply because they would not have had the exact same gender/sexuality experience, we should always listen to the individual in question when it comes to their identities. In Hatshepsut's case, she referred to herself with feminine markers whenever and wherever she could. The times she used male markers were when she couldn't do otherwise for grammatical or sometimes religious reasons, and she wasn't alone in that. Two other female kings did the exact same thing. Based on that - based on listening to the closest thing we have to her own words on the matter - we can say that she likely wasn't trans.

Tumblr talks a big game about listening to an individual's words about how they want to be addressed. Y'all do it right for Dr. Barry, but Hatshepsut is definitely not getting the same treatment. Even if that is because you've all been told that she "had herself portrayed as a man" and "referred to herself as a man" without further context or nuance, too many people are unwilling to change pace even after being told the whole story. Why is that?

Lastly, this discussion is literally front and centre in my FAQ and it would behoove you to peruse it instead of copying years-old comments into my inbox, which is, uh, pretty rude. From this point on I will delete any and all asks about Hatshepsut's gender identity immediately simply because I'm done repeating myself.